#the chilling simplicity of “do not come here”… the fact it was sent as a separate text… the desperation. the humanity.

[cdroloisms]

I really love when people write about c!wilbur manipulating c!dream so I was wondering if you could write on about the smp realizing that c!wilbur manipulated c!dream into being a lap dog for him but a hell lot of trouble for then and if you could add c!wilbur taking advantage of the fact that dream is a god during a fight that would make my day. Hope you have a great day.thank you. Love your work.

ooh yeah - c!wilbur is back and GGG-ing as good as ever, , which Really makes you think abt what it’s gonna be like when he interacts with c!dream again. this ended up being a little more c!sapnap centric than i intended, hope that’s alright haha. (and thank you so much for the kind words!) 

tw: implied abuse, torture, drowning, dismemberment, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault, c!sapnap critical? not really?, dark portrayal of c!wilbur (typical MAD duo shenanigans)

Sapnap isn’t expecting to find anyone when he storms out in the middle of the night - he’s tense, they all are after the fiasco at the prison, but really his thoughts are filled with Karl once again going inexplicably radio silent for days on end and Quackity ignoring all of his questions with a simple “i’m busy” that he’d failed to follow up even twelve hours later, so Dream and Wilbur and whatever the hell happened that left Pandora’s Vault - obsidian, indestructible, tall and dark and proud - half-crumbled and sunken into the sea are just about the last things on his mind.  

Even so, he’s not an idiot, so he had enough foresight to pack a few potions and gather his armor and weapons before stepping into the summer night - it’s cool under the moonlight, a soft breeze cutting through the otherwise stifling weight of the humid air, and the comfortable night is enough to make his anger die down, just a little. Kinoko Kingdom glows soft and warm from the lanterns Foolish had scattered all over the place, thick with the earthy smell of fungus and flowers, and he takes a deep breath before walking to the city outskirts to hopefully clear his mind.

He’s no stranger to late-night walks; his temper had always been fiery, even as a child, and he’d figured out pretty early on that the easiest way to deal with it was to walk or run until his brain was too tired to think anymore. Walking at night also meant he could take out some of his frustration on mobs as well as the satisfaction of setting a random patch of forest on fire without worrying about burning down someone else’s property, and once he got good enough with a sword and shield to come and go relatively unscathed, Bad had stopped his worrying enough to let him do whatever as long as he came back in time in the morning. Sapnap frowns as he hacks at a random branch in his way with an axe, watching as it falls in a spray of leaves and crashes to the ground; he hasn’t seen Bad in a while, not since he became obsessed with the whole Egg thing. Quackity had mentioned some cryptic things, and Karl was adamant that they avoid the Egg as much as possible, but he probably should’ve at least visited, or something. Bad always knew what to say when it came to messy things like this.

Though - Sapnap laughs wryly - it’d never been this bad, before. Karl distant and absent, Q somehow even more so with a new glint to his gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. George, usually asleep, never around, expression perpetually foggy like he doesn’t know where he was. Dream- evil, insane, awful, somehow so familiar it hurt and too much of a stranger to recognize. He wonders when it all got this bad. He wonders what it says about himself, that he didn’t notice until it was far too late.

“Fancy seeing you out here.”

Sapnap whirls around, sword drawn; the figure staring back at him doesn’t even flinch. His eyes narrow at the sight, stance widening, shoulders tense.

“Wilbur?” He keeps his voice wary, guarded, trying his best to keep surprise from coloring his tone. Wilbur grins at him, tight-lipped, the planes of his face faintly lit by the moon shining over them, facial features only barely visible in the dim light. Without really meaning to, Sapnap cranes his head to look around at the surrounding forest, but nothing moves or makes itself known outside of the figure still staring at him, smirking. “What- what are you doing here?”

And where’s Dream?

Because Sapnap might not know much about what went down at the prison and what Dream’s plans are and the whole mess that he’d been so desperate to put behind him and utterly failed at doing so, but what he does know is that the two of them - Dream and Wilbur, Wilbur and Dream - had been all but inseparable, strangely attached to each other in a way that spelled out nothing but trouble for the rest of them. The rest of the server had been compiling sightings of the two in the hopes of being able to stop whatever it was that they had planned, but Sapnap knows his former friend, brother, and even if he doesn’t know Wilbur, his reputation more than precedes him: the two of them are smart, not to mention paranoid as fuck, and the rest of them have a better shot shooting targets in the dark than figuring out whatever the hell was going on in their heads with the two of them working together. Either way, he knows that they’d never been sighted apart - it was always Wilbur standing on a hill with Dream sitting next to him, or Dream hacking through mobs as Wilbur followed, or the two of them stepping into a fortress and leaving minutes after - until now.

“Could ask the same of you,” Wilbur laughs, just a shade to the left of friendly, and the moonlight scatters through the leaves and glints off his glasses. “Don’t be so tense, man! I’m just going on a walk, thought I’d enjoy the night. Didn’t see anything like this in Limbo, you know.”

Sapnap winces at the reminder, that Wilbur is here and alive in defiance of law and reason and the universe itself, but Wilbur barrels on, seeming unaware of his unease.

“Anyway - how are you doing, man? Haven’t seen you around in a while.” He leans back, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, stance loose, relaxed. “I’d ask Dream, but he’s been in prison for a bit, you know? Most of what he knows is pretty - ah, outdated, not that I tell him that.”

“What are you planning?” Sapnap snaps, grip tightening around the handle of his sword. “You and Dream. What do you want?”

“Who’s to say we want anything?” Wilbur seems to grin wider, and the expression on his face is unsettling, makes something cold slither up his spine. He shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling, half-wishing it was brighter so he could better see the other’s eyes.

“I mean-” he stutters. Because Dream always wants, he almost says, bitter and angry, that all-too-familar swell of betrayal rising in his chest at Dream, forever insatiated, forever wanting, forever looking for more more more. Because if he were to escape, and if he were to want nothing, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Because if he didn’t want, if he wasn’t left wanting, then did Sapnap ever mean anything at all? The thoughts stick to his skull like tar, words clinging to the roof of his mouth as it goes dry. Wilbur seems to stare at him, unimpressed, and he feels his face go hot.

“He’s not- he’s dangerous, you know,” Sapnap says instead of answering, because untangling the awful, knotted feelings that make up his remaining ties with Dream, half-frayed and neglected and forgotten, is more work than he can handle and more emotions than he has the energy to bear. It doesn’t matter, in the end, because Dream is still dangerous; he knows that, resolutely, and maybe it’s lucky, that he found Wilbur without Dream whispering plans and manipulations and meaningless words by his side. It’ll give him a chance to warn Wilbur, bring him back to their side instead of risking his life (again) in the company of his friend-turned-tyrant. Dream is dangerous, whether he wants or not, because Dream is Dream and he’s been in too many manhunts to face him with anything less than one hundred percent confidence. “You don’t want to be with him, Wilbur. He’s hurt- so many people.”

Wilbur’s expression doesn’t change, seeming as indifferent to the words as ever; if anything, he looks a little amused. “Really,” he hums, almost to himself. “Dangerous, you say?”

“He’s Dream,” Sapnap insists, because it’s the truth, and it’s the simplicity of it, really. It’s Dream, and Dream is dangerous whether he’s on your side or not, forever ruthless and unheeding as long as he gets what he wants. He’d been in Wilbur’s place, once, convinced that Dream’s strategies and planning and infallible logic had meant they had no way of losing. He knows better, now. “You’ve fought him before! He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anything.”

And if the words are a little more bitter than they should be when he says that, who but he is going to notice?

Wilbur’s eyes stay on his, completely silent, expression unreadable. The quiet gets awkward quickly, Wilbur’s expression seeming unchanging, nothing but the faint rustling of the leaves around them to break the stillness of the air, and Sapnap feels his gut roll uncomfortably as he looks off to the ground, waiting for Wilbur to react in some way, any way. It’s hard, he knows, to realize that someone you thought was on your side had been using you the entire time, he’s been there before and he gets it, but- it’s still strange, how still Wilbur has become. How he still hasn’t reacted - is his expression going to change?

And suddenly, starting quiet and then swelling in volume, Wilbur begins to laugh.

“Goodness,” Wilbur drawls through his chuckles, voice low and dark and sending chills down his back. “I thought he was exaggerating, man - you really do hate him, don’t you?”

“What- what’s so funny?”

Wilbur smiles, teeth flashing white as the faint light from the moon bounces off of them, “I have to give you my thanks, truly. I’d thought that Quackity did the most of it, or Sam, but you- I really couldn’t have guessed.”

Sapnap’s head is spinning. Wilbur’s expression is positively gleeful, eyes dancing, smile wide and brilliant, bouncing from one name to another with little explanation to how any of them tie together. Sam? Quackity? Nothing is making sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh Sapnap,” Wilbur croons. “You really don’t know, do you?”

He twists his hand in a flippant gesture, eyes directed into the forest surrounding them.

“Let’s just say that his, ah- stay, in Pandora, wasn’t exactly what I’d call a five-star experience. But you know that, don’t you?” Wilbur directs a flat smile his way, and Sapnap swallows, throat dry. Briefly, images flash behind his eyes - walls, dripping with crying obsidian, the lava’s heat hard to bear at his back, even for him, mining fatigue pulling at his limbs and making them heavy. How startlingly bare the cell had been, even through the haze of his anger, Dream, slumped in a corner of the cell, barely moving, barely even breathing as it seemed sometimes, sunken-in cheeks and sagging shoulders speaking of nothing but a bone-deep exhaustion. “Apparently, being psychologically and physically tortured for months on end has an interesting effect on the human psyche. Even more so when, say, your best friend comes once in the entire time to tell you that he’ll kill you if you ever try to escape.”

“How-” he trips on his own words, lungs seizing, “how do you know that?”

“He tells me things. A lot of things, really. Did you know it takes one and a half regen potions to reattach an arm after it’s been cut off? It takes three and a half for a leg, he thinks, but the blood loss made it rather hard to remember.” Wilbur steps forward. “Did you know that scars created by healing potions tend to be much thicker and more prominent than those made by regens? Or that he can hold his breath for a little more than two minutes before passing out?” Wilbur smirks, jagged, threatening. “Did you know that I can tell him just about everything, and he’ll believe me because there’s no one else to tell him otherwise?”

“Wh- what?”

“I’ll be sure to tell him what you said; I’m sure he’ll love to hear how his brother is doing.” Wilbur waves. “And when you see Quackity, be sure to give him my thanks, will you?”

“Wilbur, what- come back-”

And with a flash of purple particles, Wilbur disappears, leaving Sapnap alone in the middle of the forest. Stasis chamber. His heart pounds in his ears, breathing all-too-loud, and he stares desperately at the empty space where Wilbur had stood like it’ll bring him back again.

Fuck, he swipes his hand across his face, startled when it comes back wet. What does he do now?

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Date #7

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 7.2k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: a bit of talking down on yourself, the confusion continues, general fluff with a touch of angst 

a/n: this is the final date. guys...how is this going by so fast?? please let me know your thoughts on the date, on everything else overall...and I’ll see you soon? Next Saturday is the finale!

Date #7

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

Note from the creator of this stupid idea:

I loved her first.

 “Who do you think it was? Any ideas?”

           “I…” you shrug. “No?”

           Gina arches a brow, staring you down from across your kitchen table. “So, that was a lie.”

           You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, Gina also chuckling. It’s a relief, the fact that she doesn’t hesitate to call you out. You’re grateful that you finagled her number from Jin, shooting him a text that looked a lot like this:

Me: Burn this after reading

Me: We can’t have any evidence !!

Kim Seokjinnie: ok, hi. I’m not burning my phone weirdo. I’ll just keep it away from Jungkook. What’s up??

Me: Hi. You know what I meant.

Me: Can you give me Gina’s number?

Kim Seokjinnie: Sure, I’ll send you the contact in a second. You two gonna hang out or something?

Me: Hopefully…do you think it’s weird if I just ask her out of the blue? Will she not wanna come?

Kim Seokjinnie: Nah, she’s pretty chill. I bet she’ll come

Kim Seokjinnie: *Kim Seokjinnie shared a contact with you*

Kim Seokjinnie: do you need anything before I burn my phone?

Me: no, thank you!! I owe you one. I’m short on friends rn, hopefully she’ll come over

Kim Seokjinnie: I’m sorry  miss you. We’ll all get to hang out once this is all over, I promise.

“Yah! I really don’t know. I mean they’ve all be so…”

“So what?”

You sigh, sounding like some kid in a dreamy teen movie. “Perfect?”

“There’s no such thing,” Gina huffs, leaning back in her chair. It’s a bit rickety, you’d found it at a yard sale with Namjoon and Jimin. You had just moved into your apartment, and realized that you were a little low on furniture. Together, you’d managed to find three mismatching chairs that made you grin each time you saw them.

It was a little odd at the time, you didn’t want to buy three chairs. Two seemed like plenty. They convinced you though, and looking back you understand why they were so adamant.

Wasn’t it rule #3? “Limit one-on-one interaction”? Three chairs made it so that there was always space for at least two of them.

Suddenly you look at the most average things in your house with different eyes.

Groaning, you rub your hands over your face. You’ve probably smudged your makeup, but you don’t care. It’s Friday night, you can do whatever you want.

“Unfortunately, I really think that there might be.” You let out a dry chuckle. “Seven dates with the world’s most perfect men. I knew I was screwed from the beginning, but this, I mean, I didn’t expect it to go this far.”

“On the bright side, you only have one more to go.” Gina gets up, stretching before moving to put her plate in the sink. She’d picked up some takeout on her way to your house, proving to you that you two are going to be friends for a long, long time.

“I’m terrified because of that. What happens after tomorrow’s date? I know it’s up to me, but I feel like I’m waiting for someone to come tell me the next step.”

Gina hums in agreement, shooting you an apologetic look. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pointed out how flirty they were at the haunted house. You never would have gotten into this mess.”

“No,” you wave her off. “It’s not your fault. Jungkook let it slip anyway, after the door closed on us in the basement. Ugh, I still get freaked out thinking about that. Has that happened since?”

Gina pauses over the sink, back turned to you as she runs her plate under the hot water. After a moment she shuts it off, turning around to wipe her hands off on a dish towel before leaning up against the counter.

“Erm…”

Your stomach drops. “What.”

“It’s just…” she crosses her arms and uncrosses them, unsure of what to do with her hands. “The door is connected to a little button on every employee’s key fob. You know, just for some extra scare factor.”

You meet her sheepish gaze with a blank stare. “So you’re telling me…”

“It’s just a part of the tour,” Gina shrugs. “Wait, what happened? He told you about the pact when the door closed? That’s…that’s honestly not the most romantic setting-”

“No no, we had a little moment after the door closed, and we almost kissed. But he stopped himself and said the I didn’t have to worry about him making a move. When we got out, I asked him why, and that’s when he mentioned the pact.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So tomorrow is the last date, correct?”

           “Yup.”

           “Look,” Gina notices your worried expression. “Do yourself a favor. Let go. Don’t waste tomorrow thinking about what’s gonna happen next. Focus on the moment, ok? Then how about we get together next week sometime to talk everything over? If you feel like that might help, that is.”

           You definitely made the right choice in inviting Gina over. You can already feel your stress levels going down.

           “Ok.”

           You’re up early the next morning, earlier than you’d like. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on your sofa, basking in the golden morning sun and watching the little dust motes float in the air, but it’s certainly been a while.

           For once, it’s quiet in your mind. You’re not sure why now, why today. There’s no doubt you’ll be your typical bumbling mess once Yoongi picks you up, but for now all is peaceful.

           It’s the last date. Somehow, despite how much you’ve enjoyed these little escapades, you feel relief at the thought. Knowing that you’ve made it nearly to the end without doing anything remarkably stupid (you’re still mortified that you and Jimin got kicked out of that basilica but oh well), and now you’re so close.  

           For now, you slide your worries under the rug, to be left there for the weekend. You curl your legs under you and lean your head back against the cushions to drink in the sunlight. It warms your skin, leaving you feeling even better than before.

           Yoongi is supposed to be here around four. Jungkook had sent you a quick text earlier in the week checking that you didn’t have any plans for Saturday afternoon and night. You didn’t bother to tell him that you always had all day open for them.

           While the exchange had been short, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was blushing just as much as you when his contact popped up on your screen. In an instant you were plunged into the memory of clinging to him just outside your front door, Jungkook’s shaky breaths the only thing keeping you planted in reality.

           Either way, it was safe to say that you were a blushing mess despite the simplicity of the text. He kept it strictly professional, not once alluding to the events of last Saturday. But you could still hear those words he uttered when he asked if you ever thought about what might have happened if he’d kissed you in the haunted house when he had the chance.

           “I do. Every day.”

           Of course you thought about it. You let out an amused huff on the couch, laughing to yourself. Who wouldn’t? But the only thing was the fact that you were thinking about a lot of things. Not just Jungkook.

           Or his lips, for that matter.

           The couch rustles as you get up, deciding to change out of your red sweatshirt for a green one. You’d been instructed to dress warm, which made you wonder what was planned for today. Outside everything looks warm and pleasant, certainly no need for anything too heavy.

           By the time afternoon rolls around, you’re tempted to call up Gina for a late lunch or something. To say you’re antsy is an understatement; you’re positively losing it. The clock on the wall has decided to try its hand at stopping time altogether, and you think it’s doing a pretty good job of it. Every time you glace over, seemingly no time has passed.

           This time, you really start to wonder if no time has passed. You swear it’s been stuck at 3 o’clock for a while-

           The sound of someone knocking on your door has you nearly tipping over from where you perch trying to grab the clock.

           For some stupid reason, you’re frozen to your spot at the far end of your living room. Holding the clock in your hands, you jump a little as a second tentative knock sounds.

           To your utter mortification, your mouth opens and you yell out, “Come in!”

           You’re still frozen in place when the door opens and Yoongi pokes his head in. His eyes immediately land on you, a sheepish smile that he has a hard time containing immediately breaking out.

           “You’re not planning on throwing that at me, right?” He asks, making you glare down at the clock you cling to.

           “Oh.” Your knuckles have turned white, and somehow your heart has decided to try its hand at sprinting a marathon. “No. I- it’s broken. I think.”

           Yoongi shuffles inside, closing the door gently behind him before wandering over to you. His pale complexion makes the pink on his cheeks easy to spot. Somehow the fact that he’s blushing makes you blush.

           “Do you have batteries around here?” He asks quietly, hiding his amusement.

           “Maybe in the kitchen?” You brush past him, handing off the clock. “Would you mind getting the old batteries out?”

           He mumbles out a sure, plopping down on your sofa while he gets to work on the clock. He’s wearing a similar outfit to you, which makes you smile. It’s not very often these days that he sports a bandana and you wonder if he somehow knew that you love the way he looks in it. His hair looks particularly fluffy as it kisses his forehead, the dark bandana giving him an air of coolness you know you could never pull off.

           Rummaging around your kitchen drawers, you pause when you realize what you’re doing. Are you stalling? What’s the rush to fix a clock when you have Min Yoongi in the other room waiting to take you out?

           Closing the drawer, you take a deep breath and shake your head.

           “Sorry Yoongi,” you call out, trudging back into the living room. “I’m an idiot.”

           He looks at you over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s your reasoning?”

           “Ouch.”

           Yoongi chuckles, setting the clock down on the coffee table before getting to his feet. “Wow, is it just me or…”

           You wince. “This got off to a bad start, huh.”

           “Yeah.”

           Looking at each other from across the room, you realize just how much you’ve missed him. His witty sarcastic remarks, his honesty.

           Him.

           “Can we start over? Go knock on the door again.”

           Yoongi’s already on his way, huffing out a laugh as he steps outside. “Alright, see you in a second.” The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re suddenly left with the silence of your house.

           As Yoongi timidly knocks on the door, the same sense of calm you experienced this morning settles over you.

           The seventh date. No more guessing who’s on the other side of the door, no more anxious glances in the mirror to check that everything looks flawless. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the door between you.

           There’s already a smile on your face as you open that door, finding Yoongi standing with his hands in his pocket. He returns your grin, feeling like a fellow conspirator in a heist that has yet to be planned.

           “I’m here,” he announces, then adds with a chuckle, “finally.”

           “Took you long enough,” you tease, reaching out to grab his jacket and pull him inside. He feigns a horrified expression at your flirty nature, but you just roll your eyes. You’re not sure who wraps their arms around the other first, but the next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in a tight embrace.

           I missed you, is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. The lump that’s formed there only grows thicker with emotion as Yoongi’s gravelly voice rumbles against your hair.

           “How’re you holding up?”

           Your arms fall around his waist, ever aware of his shoulder. Even though he says he’s completely healed now, you aren’t taking any chances. It’s quiet for a long moment as you struggle to find an answer.

           “I…fine. I’m fine.” You pull away and arch an eyebrow at him, pleased to see that is cheeks are still rosy despite the serious look in his eye. “How are you holding up?”

           He lets out a breathy laugh, dropping your gaze. “Fine.” Then, when he catches your disbelieving stare, he states as innocently as possible, “What? Aren’t we lying to each other tonight?”

           “You suck.”

           “See!” He exclaims as you step out of his grasp to grab your things. “You always do that when you’ve been caught in a lie!”

           “Ugh, yah! I wasn’t lying,” you turn around to face him, walking backward toward your room. “I’m fine, really.”

           He shrugs. “And so am I.”

           You stifle your laughter as you enter your room, grabbing your things and wondering if you should grab a coat. “Do I really need a coat?” You call down the hall.

           “Yes!”

           Pursing your lips, you snatch the puffy monstrosity from your closet before turning to head out. Double checking that you have everything you need; your eyes can’t help but glance at the item sitting atop your dresser.

           You stick your tongue out at it. A few seconds later it’s tucked safely away in your top drawer and you’re heading out into the hallway. Your stomach does an uneasy flip as you recall the words that are practically burned in the backs of your eyelids now.

           I loved her first.

           Yoongi gets up from off the couch, waiting for you beside the door. His dark eyes survey you as you walk toward him. “Good to go?” He asks quietly. Clutching your coat a little tighter to your chest, you nod.

           The two of you head out, locking up your apartment and settling in the car that Yoongi drove over. Before long, you’re out on the highway, speeding toward your destination.

           Which, you’ve just realized, is still a mystery to you.

           “Sooo…” You begin, smiling lazily at Yoongi. You take a moment to admire his hands that are wrapped around the steering wheel. “Where are we going?”

           A smile tugs at his lips, but he manages to contain it as he adopts a serious expression. He glances over at you. “We’re going to see the sea.”

           “We’re…” you stutter, furrowing your brows. “We’re going to see the sea?”

           A breathy chuckle escapes him. “Yeah. But it’s a long drive, so are you down to listen to a murder-mystery with me?”

           “YES.”

            You’re still pretty sure that it was the nosy maid that did it by the time you arrive at your destination. Two hours, one murder-mystery short audiobook, and several snacks later, the sun is well on its way to the horizon when Yoongi pulls off to a sandy parking lot filled to the brim with cars.

           There’s tons of people mulling about, several of them appear to be young families who smile fondly as their children laugh and play in the sand. There’s a couple of food-trucks that have popped up on the beach, which sport long lines. Yoongi observes them woefully, seeming to come to some sort of understanding with himself before moving to get out of the car.

           “Woah, what’s with all the people? Is this beach always this busy?”

           It’s a beach you’ve never been to before, the pristine sand glowing as the sun makes its way across the sky.

           “Today’s a special occasion,” Yoongi explains, popping the trunk and rummaging around. “We should probably pick out a spot now before all the good ones are taken.”

           You come around to the back of the car to meet him, taking the blanket he extends out to you. Leaving your big coat in the backseat, you hope he doesn’t scold you and tell you to put it on. Right now it’s windy, but fairly warm. No need to look like a living marshmallow just yet.

           Before you can inquire after what the special occasion is, Yoongi passes you a couple of water bottles and begins rattling off instructions.

           “How about I jump in line to buy us some dinner,” the way he says it so casually has your heart skipping a beat for some reason, “and you head down the beach to scout out a decent spot?”

           “But what kind of spot do you mean? Is there a show or something?”

           Yoongi pauses, closing the trunk and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that. A show. Just find a spot that you like, I’ll come find you with our food, ok?”

           “Ay ay, captain.” You trudge away, hoisting the blanket up higher in your arms as you begin to look for an empty space. The immediate surrounding beach area appears to be pretty packed, which has you marching farther and farther away from the parking lot.

           You grin as a couple of children race past you, giggling as they fly their kites. It’s looks like it’s a little boy and with his younger sister, trying their best to keep their kites afloat in wind. Waving at them, your smile only grows as the boy sheepishly turns away and the girl cheerfully waves back.

           It feels like you walk for years before finding a clearing. You were definitely looking for a semi-secluded spot, not too keen on spending your long-awaited date with Yoongi surrounded by strangers. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone what the big deal is about today before you’re laying the blanket out. Not wanting to leave anything unattended just for it to blow away, you decide to just be patient until Yoongi finds you.

           The sand is warm beneath the blanket as you plop down, resting with your face turned toward the sun as you let out a content sigh. Despite the chill of the wind, the sun warms you right up.

           “Why are you alone?”

           Peeking one eye open at the little voice, you’re delighted to see the same little girl from earlier standing a little ways away. She watches you with a meek expression, her kite forgotten at her feet.

           “Oh, I’m not alone,” you explain. “I’m just waiting for my friend to come find me. He went to go get food.”

           “Oh.” The young girl shuffles her feet. “My mommy says that I need to get all my wiggles out before the show.”

           You chuckle. “Really? What show are we watching tonight? Is it Disney?” That would certainly make sense for all of the young families here tonight. Did Yoongi bring you to a beach-front outdoor movie?

           “No, silly!” The girl giggles at your questions. “The sky’s coming to say hello!”

           “What?”

           “That’s what my mommy said. She said, ‘Young-mi get your wiggles out, the sky is coming to say hello soon!’”

           You blink, a little amused by Young-mi’s earnest response. “I see…I didn’t know that the sky was coming to say hello tonight.”

           “Then why are you here?”

           “Oh,” you crane your neck toward the parking lot, but it’s too far away to see Yoongi. “My friend brought me, as a surprise.”

           “Wow,” Young-mi utters in a reverent tone. “Can I meet your friend?”

           “I don’t see why not.”

           With a gleeful shout, Young-mi takes off running, her kite skipping along the ground behind her. She runs toward her family, her mother grinning at the sight before reaching out to pull her into her arms. You watch on with a forgotten smile, wondering for a split second what that would be like.

           If you squint, that could be Yoongi sitting beside Young-mi’s mother, throwing his head back with laughter at something his daughter says to him. Their son crouches in the sand nearby, digging around as though searching for gold.

           Laying down with a soft sigh, you close your eyes and let the little daydream take over. Here, at the beach. Telling your children that this is where you had your first date; laughing as they make disgusted faces when Yoongi plants a loud kiss on your cheek-

           “Did the nosy maid get to you?”

           Yoongi stands above you with arms laden with food. He blocks out the sun, the rays coming around to make him appear like an angel. Judging from the delicious smells radiating from the food he carries, you think he actually might be.

           “Ah, so you agree that you think it was her that murdered Duke Rittington?” Your voice sounds a little croaky, a testament to the fact that you were just dozing a moment ago. Leaning up to ease some of the food from his arms, Yoongi snorts.

           “No. It was obviously the son. Why can’t you see it?”

           Rolling your eyes, you pat a spot next to you on the blankets. Yoongi takes the seat without hesitation. “Because, the son seems like too easy of a suspect. Whereas the maid-”

           The screams of Young-mi as she rushes toward you cut you off. “You have a boyfriend?!”

           “Oh, no.”

           Yoongi leans over, still busy arranging the bags of food – is that a cheeseburger you see? – around the blanket. “Who’s that?” He mumbles.

           “I, uh, made a friend while you were grabbing food,” you explain with a small smile.

           Now Young-mi reaches your blanket, dropping to her knees as she gazes up at Yoongi with wide, innocent eyes. “Hi, my name is Young-mi and I’m four years old. I’m the second tallest in my class.” Young-mi prattles off information, her large eyes never once leaving Yoongi’s face. “Are you her boyfriend? I hope you’re her boyfriend.”

           Yoongi lets out a startled laugh. “You do? Why’s that?”

           “You’re so pretty.”

           Now both of you burst out laughing, Young-mi looking utterly confused at your outburst. Yoongi covers his face with his hands, shaking his head.

           “What? What’s so funny?” Young-mi questions.

           You grin at her. “You think he’s pretty?” The little girl nods enthusiastically. “I do too.”

           Yoongi peers over at you at this comment, an unasked question in his eyes. The pink in his cheeks has intensified, as has your own blush.

           “Aren’t I supposed to be the one complementing you?” He asks under his breath. You shrug.

           “You brought food, so now we’re even.”

           Young-mi lingers a little while longer, asking a few questions and drawing in the sand. Munching down on your cheeseburger, you eye Young-mi’s kite.

           “Do you mind if I try to fly your kite for a second?” The question is out of your mouth before you can fully process it, but Young-mi looks up at you excitedly.

           “Yes!!” She squeals, immediately dragging the little handle over to you. “You have to run really fast, that’s what my mommy told me. Then it’ll fly!”

           Glancing back at Yoongi as you clamber to your feet, you don’t miss the fond smile he wears as he watches the interaction take place. You wave at him, heading off down the beach with Young-mi. Once you’ve walked far enough, you wink down at her.

           “Ok, you run on ahead and I’ll catch up in a few seconds.”

           The girl wastes no time running off, her laughter making you feel lighter than you have in weeks. Once she’s far enough off, you take off after her. She heads straight toward her family, who smile at you as you attempt to get the kite off the ground.

           Sand flies up behind you as you race, and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi with his phone out, recording you with a wide smile on his face. The sun has hit the horizon now, a dizzying array of colors sending your mind into a joyful frenzy. Up ahead, Young-mi has successfully made it to her family and is waiting for you to catch up. She jumps up and down as the kite soars above you, the little pinwheels attached to it spinning around in the wind.

           A bit more energy overtakes you, and you sprint the last few yards toward Young-mi, unable to stop the laugh that jumps out of you. You feel so free, here on the beach. It’s almost like you’re up there flying with the kite-

           “Wait!”

           Someone shouts it, you’re not exactly sure who, but by the time the plea registers in your ears, it’s too late. Foot catching in the hole that Young-mi’s brother had been digging earlier, you feel a twist of pain before tumbling to the ground.

           You cry out, barely managing to catch yourself before faceplanting it. The handle from Young-mi’s kite digs painfully into your hand, but that’s the least of your problems at the moment.

           Young-mi’s family rushes over to you, but before they reach you Yoongi is dropping to your side.

           “Oh,” you pant, “hi Yoongs.”

           “Are you alright?” He’s also panting, and you wonder if he had begun running after you before you even fell, foreseeing your path. “Your foot…”

           “I am so sorry!” Young-mi’s mother stoops down on your other side, her husband right behind her. “We completely forgot that Doyun even dug that hole! Can you move? Are you in pain?”

           From where you’re laying belly-down on the sand, you can’t help but feel the burn of embarrassment in your cheeks. “I…move? Yeah, I can – ah never mind.” You wince as you attempt to get to your feet only for the dull ache in your right foot to flare up to a fiery red pain. Yoongi immediately reaches out for you, unsure of what to do. His hands ghost over your leg, but retract when you hiss in pain.

           “Here, my husband-” Young-mi’s mother points over her shoulder to the man in question. “He’s a nurse. Honey, could you…?”

           “Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle?” The man asks in a gentle voice. “Just to make sure nothing’s broken.”

           With a nod, you allow both him and Yoongi to help you swivel around to sit the correct way, the blush you already have deepening even more when Yoongi takes up a spot at your back. He gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re leaning into his chest, his arms coming to wrap around you in a protective manner.

           When you wince as the man delicately presses down on your already swollen ankle, Yoongi begins talking.

           “So, is it just me, or has this entire night been a disaster?”

           You let out a choked laugh. “No, Yoongs. Well, maybe it has, but it’s all my fault. I can’t believe I fell, how embarrassing…”

           “Oh, are you two out on a date? Er, sorry for prying…”

           Both you and Yoongi awkwardly chuckle. “No, no…um, yeah. We are.”

           “It’s our first date, actually,” Yoongi adds as an afterthought.

           “How exciting! Honey, it’s their first date, did you hear that?”

           The man currently inspecting your ankle spares the two of you a kindly glance. “Good for you two. You make a good looking couple.”

           “But I swear I’ve seen you before,” the mother comments, squinting at Yoongi. “Where do I know you from…”

           You can feel Yoongi tense up behind you, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead he takes to finding your hands (which you’ve slipped into your sweatshirt pocket to avoid accidentally punching the man poking and prodding at your foot), eventually curling his hands around yours and steadily unclenching your fists.

           “Oh! I know it! Do you do commercials?”

           Yoongi lets out an audible sigh of relief, which makes you smile for half a second before a particularly hard prod at your ankle sends you into a tailspin.

           “Yeah, I’ve done a few commercials.”

           “I knew it. How’s it looking, honey?”

           Her husband sits back on his heels, giving you a nod. “Nothing appears to be broken, you just twisted it pretty good. Babe, grab that icepack out of the cooler. You should keep ice on it for a while to counter the swelling.”

           A second later you’re handing a little bag of ice. “I don’t wanna take your ice,” you comment lamely. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, pulling back from you and standing.

           “It’s just a disposable pack we used for the cooler,” the mother explains, waving off your concern. “No need to worry. We’ve got plenty more. Now, go enjoy your date!”

           “Yeah, try your best to have fun. And keep ice on that, on and off for the next couple of days. It shouldn’t give you too much trouble after that.” With a wink toward Yoongi, your temporary nurse gives him a little nudge. “You seem like a good man. I think you’re in good hands here, miss.”

           Young-mi bids you a mournful goodbye as you limp away with Yoongi, quickly coming to find that sand isn’t the kindest to people hopping around on one leg. You’ve made it all of four hops while clinging to Yoongi before he stops.

           “Hop on my back,” he commands, stepping directly in front of you.

           You blanch. “But Yoongi…your shoulder.”

           “It’s fine. Just hop on. You don’t need to limp all the way back to where we’re sitting.” When you hesitate another moment, he looks back at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes sparking in the sunset. “Jagiya.”

           Well, the man puts up a convincing argument.

           Yoongi crouches down so you don’t have to jump, and with a bit of careful maneuvering you manage to hop onto his back. His hands grip your thighs, hoisting you up a bit higher which makes you gasp a little. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on shoulder.

           Setting off toward your abandoned blanket and food, you can’t help but feel a rise of disappointment in your chest.

           “Yoongi?” You mumble, almost sounding like an embarrassed child.

           “Hmm?”

           Hiding your face in the back of his neck, you groan. “I’m sorry.”

           Yoongi’s steps falter before he continues on, confusion evident in his tone. “Sorry? For what?”

           The calm that you felt earlier has completely shattered at this point, and you grit your teeth against the pain in your ankle and the onslaught of emotions that surface. What happened to picture perfect? Why couldn’t you focus?

           Other than sitting in the car together, you feel as though you’ve hardly touched base with Yoongi. You haven’t seen the man in nearly two months, and yet here you are distracted as ever. Distracted with your dumb broke clock, distracted with the audiobook, distracted with a kite.

           Yoongi stops in his tracks as he feels hot tears against his neck. “Jagiya?”

           “I- I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you blubber. “I’m an idiot! I c-can’t focus on anything tonight and…and now I’ve made everything fall apart by going and getting h-hurt…Yoongi, it hurts so bad. A-and now I’m complaining, which is making everything worse!”

           You’re surprised when Yoongi doesn’t say a single thing, instead picking up where he left off as he trudges on toward the blanket. In response to his silence, you continue in your repentant monologue.

           “And you waited in line to get us fooood,” you bite down on your lip as you fight the urge to wail. “It’s probably c-cold now, and you waited for s-so long to get it…I feel like such a bad person…if you don’t wanna continue the date, I u-understand. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you want! J-just, I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I’ve completely ruined this, and you drove t-two hours to get me here….” You’ve reached the blanket now, Yoongi gently sets you down, and you hobble on one foot as you half-expect him to grab his keys and set off toward the car. “I just can’t think straight because I read that stupid pact and-”

           “Woah, back up.”

           Swiveling around to face you, Yoongi has a frown etched into his face. It makes you want to turn and run, to crawl into a cave to die from embarrassment, but it’s the fact that you can barely manage to stand on one foot at the moment – let alone run – that has you standing still.

           “You read the pact?” You blink, hopping a little. When Yoongi sees your struggle he reaches out to you, steadying you. “Here, let’s sit.”

           “W-we’re staying?”

           Yoongi gazes down at you, the look in his eyes turning unspeakable soft. “Yes, jagiya. Unless you aren’t feeling up to it anymore?” He looks as though the thought of leaving now pains him, but he waits patiently for your answer.

           “I wanna stay.”

           “Good. Now, what’s this about you reading the pact?”

           Having successfully turned into a sniffling mess, you wipe away your tears with an angry swipe. It’s time to come clean.

           “I found a copy in Jin’s room-”

           “What were you doing in Jin’s room?!” Yoongi whispers frantically, growing more concerned by the second. You wave him off.

           “-and I took it! I knew I shouldn’t, but I just wanted to know, you know? So I stole it but that was stupid because then I saw that thing on the back…the little note.” Your words trail off, unable to even say the word lovewhen Yoongi’s looking at you like he’s unsure of whether he wants to laugh or cry.

           “The little…note?”

           “Yeah, you know…” You shake your head, moving on. “And since I saw that, I’ve been a mess. Like, an actual mess. I finally called Gina help just to get some help, I needed someone to talk to because you know, I can’t talk to you guys right now which is stupid. But I’m still so lost and I screwed everything up and my ankle hurts Min Yoongi!”

           You’ve stunned yourself into silence with your outburst, Yoongi across from you looks a bit lost himself as he sits back on his heels. It’s clear the moment he comes to a realization.

           “The note.”

           It’s all you can do to breathe normally and not burst out into tears again. Yoongi’s expression turns mournful when he sees you.

           “Oh, jagiya…” leaning forward, Yoongi somehow manages to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head close to his chest, Yoongi pulls you in as close as he can. He sways gently back and forth, a hand coming up to cup your cheek to make you look at him.

           You do so begrudgingly, feeling like nothing more than a large child. However, the moment you meet his eyes, it hits you like a lightning strike.

           “Do you remember,” he begins quietly, “that time when your final paper accidentally got deleted? All you had left to do on it was add the reference page. You were distraught, remember?”

           Of course you do. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Countless hours spent laboring over a final essay for a class you loathed, only to make a stupid mistake and delete it all. All of it, all nineteen pages were gone in a blink. Your hard work along with it.

           “I remember you called me, a sobbing mess. Obviously I thought you’d hurt yourself, the way you were crying about killed me.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, leaving you completely enraptured in his spell as he continues speaking. “I fought with Namjoon because I needed to go see you, but we had a schedule. It was an interview, I don’t even remember for what or with whom, but I was so angry. I seriously thought I was gonna punch him. Then I remembered he goes to the gym a lot more than me, so I didn’t.”

           He manages to make you crack a small grin at that. The sight spurs him on. “But I’ll never forget the sight I saw when I finally made it out to your house later that night. It was like what, two in the morning? No one knew I was even going over, which obviously I did on purpose. I didn’t want to get into another argument. When I walked in your apartment, you were sat at the kitchen table. Remember?”

           The memory is vague, tinged with exhaustion and disappointment, but it’s there. You’d set up camp at your kitchen table all day, missing all other appointments just to try to rewrite your paper. You were half delirious at that point, staring at the screen seemed equal to burning at the stake.

           “I’ve never seen you look more exhausted in my entire life,” Yoongi chuckles. “I remember I was ready to write the paper for you, I was so sad for you. But when I made it over there, I was floored to see that you’d already written it. Not only that, but you’d written twenty-seven pages. Twenty-seven! Who does that?!” He shakes his head at you, looking absolutely shocked.

           “When I asked you why you would do that, you just shrugged and said, ‘why not reach for the stars?’ Then you submitted it, stood up, walked over to me and gave me a hug before going straight to bed. I was so shocked that I just stood there for ages, trying to fathom what had just happened.”

           Yoongi sighs, glancing up at the night sky. You admire his jawline from this angle, nuzzling in a little closer to him for warmth. He notices that you didn’t bring your coat out with you, giving you a playful glare before gently rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

           “Why did you tell me that?”

           You can feel his shrug. “You are more capable, more special than you will ever know. I’ve always kept that in my heart, over the years. Why not reach for the stars? Jagiya…”

           Yoongi shuffles a little bit before cupping your chin and pointing toward the horizon where the sun has slipped down. The night sky is becoming more visible by the second, a few stray stars winking down at you.

           “Look.” He points at a certain spot in the sky just in time for you to see a streak of breathtaking light.

           A falling star.

           In the span of a few minutes, you’re completely speechless as the sky continues to darken and your eyes are glued heavenward. Gradually, more and more falling stars dart across the sky, taking your breath away. As they continue, you recall Young-mi’s words. The sky is coming to say hello.

           Yoongi reaches for your hand, easily enveloping it while tracing the outline of your knuckles.

           “You,” Yoongi breathes out, sending tingles down your spine. “Are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.”

           Heart thundering against your ribs, you turn to look at him only to find his eyes also trained on the heavens. He speaks the words softly, almost to himself, but you still catch them.

           “You’re a star, all the way up there…and I’m all the way down here. Maybe all I’m meant to do is admire you from afar. But for tonight, just for a moment, I’ll hold you.” His eyes slide down to meet yours, glinting with pure starlight. Cold and beautiful. Hurtling toward you, burning up in your atmosphere and leaving you wondering what would happen if you let him in.

           If it would lead to utter destruction or the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

           All words have escaped you at this moment in time, but you don’t feel the need to scramble for some sort of a response. Instead you settle for snuggling in a bit closer, allowing Yoongi to hold you a bit tighter.

           Tonight, he’ll hold you close to his chest while what will later be recorded as the most prominent meteor shower in recent history rains down above you. The dark night sky is set aflame with streaks of silver as falling stars graze the earth, sharing a sweet goodnight kiss as they hurtle through space. You marvel at the seemingly never-ending parade the night sky puts on, relishing the way Yoongi keeps your warm as he also marvels at the wonder above you.

           There’s no words that are exchanged for the entirety of the meteor shower, the only form of communication found in the patterns Yoongi traces out against the back of your hand and the way he gazes down at you from time to time. As though making sure you’re really there.

           It’s a long while before the meteor shower begins to fade, and it’s only when you hear Yoongi softly calling your name that you realized you’ve dozed off.

           “It’s over, jagiya,” he coos, brushing hair away from your eyes. “Let’s get you to the car, then you can sleep the rest of the way home.”

           Somehow you two manage to make it to the car, you yourself being much more coherent by then due to the sharp pains in your ankle. You realize that you two are some of the few people left at the beach, making you wonder when everyone else left.

           Your eyes are half-closed when Yoongi begins to drive away, your hand finding his atop the console.

           “You know you don’t need to worry about us, right?” Yoongi mumbles out, glancing over at you with a worried expression. “We’ll support whatever you decide to do. Remember what I said before? You’re the most capable person I know. You don’t need us, not really. Just…be happy.”

           You mumble out something incoherent, not completely realizing that he’s referring to the aftermath of the pact until you’re already asleep.

           The next thing you know, you’re parked in front of your apartment and Yoongi is grinning down at you from the passenger side door.

           “C’mon,” he urges, helping you out of the car. “Careful with the ankle.”

           “Mmm.”

           It takes a bit of careful maneuvering to get up the stairs to your apartment, but you manage to make it. Leaning up against the door, you fumble for your keys.

           Once you’ve found them, you hand them straight over to Yoongi. You’re far too tired to attempt unlocking your door at the moment. He laughs at your behavior, shooting you a proud gummy smile when he unlocks the door. You don’t even have to ask before he’s assisting you inside, helping you hobble to your room before turning to leave.

           “Thank you, Yoongi. For everything.”

           Yoongi smiles down at his shoes. “We’ll swing by tomorrow to check up on you if that’s ok?”

           We.

           Your stomach flips to remember that you’re over now with these dates. Now what-

           “Or just shoot me a text? I know that might be awkward if we all show up…”

           “Thank you. I’ll text you?” You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Yoongi, I…” You trail off, staring up at him from your bed as your mind and heart races. There’s just no words.

           With a soft smile, he leans down and pecks your nose. The innocent gesture has your ears turning red, which widens his grin.

           “I know.” He whispers back.

           And then he’s gone.

           And you’re left here, suddenly colder than ever.

main masterlist

the dates are DONE. please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you! Tomorrow I'll be opening up a poll for your top two dates, so stay tuned for that! 

alsooo stay tuned this week because I may have a lil bonus chapter for you guys 

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @delacyrose224  @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay @fanfictionreader05 @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger  @beepbeep11 @extraordinary_reads @vntwishlist @aussiebeachbabes​ @hitsussi @hannah2291 @alwaysasadaesthetic​ 

[ksfnmoments]

The Tide Rises ~ Chapter 20

“Midas?”

No matter how much he despised their new forced commanders, Midas always kept to his usual routines and tried to be up early and presentable for whatever strange tasks SHADOW would set them to, when they weren’t taunting them, at least. Despite his sarcasm and smart remarks against them, it seemed his mannerisms were hard to drop.

Today, however, Jules hadn’t seen him.

Sure, he would always force himself to awaken before her, or in general would make an effort to be up and running before her. It had been a few hours since Jules herself had been up to her tasks, and she had only now realized Midas was nowhere to be seen. Now, here she was, knocking on the door to his makeshift prison room, which lay just above the seized vault.

There was a growing unease in her stomach as she waited in silence for her brother to give her even a grunt of a response, but there was nothing. Only the chattering of nearby SHADOW agents or henchmen, whether originally SHADOW or GHOST turned SHADOW, and their steady, patrolling steps through the rubble of The Agency.

Something was off. She knocked again. “Midas, if you don’t come out I’m going to force you out.” She laughed quietly to herself, but her smile quickly faded when she was still met with nothing. Only now was she really beginning to worry. "Midas...?"

Had he been sent out for a mission? Cast out? Was he… dead?

The doorknob finally jiggled, and the door slowly opened. In the entrance, there stood not her brother… but a cold gaze from the sinister eyes of a gas mask. And, judging by his posture, he was not pleased to see her.

“Hello, Jules,” Chaos Agent spoke, his bitter voice sending chills down her spine. “Please, come in.”

Hesitantly, she inched forward, knowing that if she didn’t, her end would draw near. Her breaths were caught in her throat.

She looked around. The room, for its gloomy, prison simplicity, was trashed. She had not actually seen her brother’s room before, but she knew this couldn’t be his doing.

Her eyes darted to her right at the movement of a SHADOW henchman who had blended in too well with the wall. A gun was now threatening her face. The door behind them all slammed, and next to it, another henchman, who had been hiding behind the door, lunged forward and pulled her arms behind her in restraint.

Jules found herself trembling as she was held against her will. She hadn’t shaken so bad since February, not even when she had initially been captured. “What- what’s going on…?” She whispered.

Standing beside the armed henchman, Chaos Agent broke into a fit of sarcastic, maniacal chuckles. His version of anger. “You tell me,” he hissed, then dangling a piece of paper in her face. It was a note, she realized… a note written in elegant, golden cursive, ending with the incomparable ‘M’ signed at the bottom, taking up a fourth of the page.

All she had to read was the last small paragraph just above it to realize what had happened, and what would soon happen.

‘They will wish they hadn’t messed with us. I’m sorry, Jules. Hold tight. I will return as quickly as possible.’

Midas had fled.

He was no longer here, and soon, she would be gone, too.

~•~

The true fact of the matter was that it was his calculations that left The Fortilla as GHOST’s only remains, but Midas could never admit that. He could barely admit it to himself. So, as he familiarized himself with every corner of The Fortilla, there was always a mix of impressiveness as he wandered it’s tactical, sturdy structures, yet more so shame, because this was all his work had become.

It was his second day back and he knew his way around quite well already. He had individually spoken to and made amends with each of his agents, but there was one, not simply an agent, who seemed to be avoiding his every move. Jules frequented the blue warehouse, Skye had told him, and her sanctuary of choice was no surprise to him. That was his next stop: to find out what the deal was and why she wouldn’t speak to him.

Any word she uttered to him after their first encounter was cold and abrupt, and she had walked away under the excuse that she was busy when they had first arrived. It wasn’t that he doubted that claim, more-so that she was clearly using it as a way to get out of conversation with him, accompanied with a mild glare she sent his way each time she spotted him.

They hadn’t had time to sit back and have a casual conversation in such a long time, not even before The Device. They had stressed out so much about it in the months leading up to it that they hadn’t talked about anything less important in half a year. Maybe it was time tor him to finally take up those requests everyone would bombard him with in the past: take a break.

Without any regard for whatever she may be focused on, he walked straight into the warehouse. He wasn’t surprised to find several screws and other unique pieces scattered around—she never cared to clean up until a project was completely finished. He couldn’t, however, spot anything impressive in particular.

What did catch his eye, however, was the certain glint of gold laying on a table. A shade of gold particular to his own golden touch. It was his drum gun; he immediately picked it up and ran his fingers over its polished surface, which held the gleam of his reflection in it. Jules had kept to her word and made sure it was still in its glory.

There was a new sense of power as he held his prized possession in his hands again. With a bold smirk, he stepped outside and pointed it into the water, held the trigger down, and listened to its fire with satisfaction for a second or two…

A satisfaction that was short-lived as he realized something wasn’t quite right.

Just to be sure his ears weren’t deceiving him, he shot a few more times, and the difference was clear. He scowled—maybe to an untrained ear, there would be nothing wrong with it, but before the flood, it shot way faster than what it had been reduced to now. “What?” He muttered to himself, flipping it around to see if anything in particular had been tampered with, before being stopped by a familiar, irritated voice.

“Hey, don’t mess with…”

Jules was storming towards the warehouse, only to slow to a stop as she met his eyes; her gaze instantly trailed to the gun between his hands. She muttered a quiet “oh” and turned her gaze downwards, fiddling with the fingertips of her gloves.

“Jules,” Midas started, “what did you do to my drum gun?”

A glare immediately settled back on her face. She hated it. She hated everything about him. She hated how his eyes narrowed at her, she hated the way his voice was laced with clear disappointment, she hated the way it was condescending, even. Her glare softened to a frown. “I… I tinkered with it a little.”

Midas raised an eyebrow. “You made it worse.”

“I didn’t mean to!” She spun around to stare at the wall. “Look, Hazard and Sorana gave me the idea to upgrade it, but I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how to do guns, okay? I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I don’t know.” She felt Midas surveying her closely. She continued, voice small. “But I kind of like it this way… it’s easier for me to handle.”

Midas sighed. “Well, feel free to keep it then. I suppose I did plan on handing it down to you at some point.”

He set the gun down, almost with a scowl, and turned the other way. Jules finally turned her head and sighed. “You obviously didn’t build that boat yourself, right? The one we found you on?”

“I’m not completely useless, mind you,” he scoffed. “I did have some help from a wandering mechanic, however. Sparkplug, her name was. I haven’t heard from her in a week, but I may need to meet her soon to inform her of my whereabouts.”

Jules stopped listening and rolled her eyes at the mention of her name. She hated to admit it then, but Kit’s endless praise of the mechanic at their visit to Catty Corner had sparked some jealousy inside her. But now she was involved in her own brother’s life while she was stuck at The Authority? “Yeah, her,” she spat. “My replacement for everything.”

Finding no other suitable response, Midas scoffed again, which only prompted Jules to roll her eyes more and turn back to the wall. Somewhere in her annoyance, though, he knew there was something further wrong. He set a hand on her shoulder and tried to turn her around, but she wouldn’t budge. “Replacement? Jules, that’s ridiculous. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Oh, now you want to help me,” she hissed, shrugging off his hand. “Just like you were going to help for, what, the past two months? Oh, I forgot! You weren’t around because you decided you were too good for everyone and left.”

Midas blinked. He managed to spit out some jumbled gibberish, but nothing more. Her anger was only starting to spark his own, but he managed to keep his composure. “What are you on about-“

“Don’t even try to act innocent,” she spat. “You left without even hinting at it and ran off to who knows where and- and got lost for months, you oeave everyone to think you’re dead and now all of a sudden you want to come back because you realized you’re not enough on your own?!”

“First of all, I was not lost,” he countered immediately. “I knew exactly where I was going, where I was, and what I was planning to do. I could have easily stayed on that boat and taken SHADOW apart piece by piece on my own, if that’s what you really wanted me to do.”

“And how would you even know what I really wanted- did you even bother to ask before you just- just took off?! You’re not a god, Midas, and you sure as hell can’t solve the world’s problems by existing!”

“Well, then perhaps being here was a mistake.”

“Maybe it was.”

He focused on his breathing, feeling a hint of gold rise up his arms. ‘No, I’m glad you’re back’ was a response he would have preferred, but if she wasn’t going to be grateful, then he didn’t need to be anymore, either.

As much as he wanted to give up with her and leave, he didn’t want to suffer another large rigtnin their relationship. They had hung onto a thread when she hit some sort of rebellious phase in her teen years and he had just reached adulthood, and he never wanted to experience something like that again by not taking care of the issue now.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Jules. I had to find a way to reclaim everything we had lost, and I couldn’t do that while-“

“Do you remember what they said?” She interrupted.

Midas glared down at her. “I wasn’t finished.”

“Do you remember what they told you would happen if one of us fucked up?”

His mind drew a blank; it was Jules’s turn to scoff. “God, you- you’re so damn selfish, Midas!”

“Everything I have done I have done for you, Jules,” he claimed, waving his hands wildly in the air. “I rebuilt E.G.O from the ground after our father drove it there, and I could easily do the same now. I would have built an army by myself, and they wouldn’t have stood a chance, Jules! We would have taken back everything, they would have wished they had never messed with us! Why can’t you just see-“

“That you’ve done everything for you?!”

Midas’s anger melted away when she whipped around to finally face him. Her arms, tightly crossed over her chest, were doing nothing to help her already quickened breaths, which were almost to the point of hyperventilation. He didn’t know what to do. “Jules-“

“You left me.” She cut him off in a low, almost growling tone. “They told you I would be dead if you tried anything, and what did you do not even a week later? Exactly that! Do I mean nothing to you, Midas…?”

It wasn’t until then that everything sunk in. Everything hit him. She was right. They were told so many times, ‘if one slips up, the other dies’ in some variant. She could have been dead. She could have never been on that GHOST motorboat that found him. She could have been a corpse buried in the soil of The Authority. But she had survived, she had escaped, and she was here now. SHADOW hadn’t gone through with their word, and he was grateful for that.

But the damage had already been done to her. He was immune to SHADOW’s coercion, but she wasn’t. “Jules, of course you- you’re my sister.” He stepped closer. “I wouldn’t-“

“Am I, really?” She whispered, taking in a sharp breath. “Or did you just need me for your little projects and you cat and mouse game with SHADOW?”

She bowed her head, swiping an arm across her face to dry the tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks. She slowly glared back up at him, but Midas couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye as he pondered on what could have happened if SHADOW really had gone through with their word.

“I joined GHOST for you the second I turned 18, I helper you build all of your contraptions and played into your stupid little conspiracies, I became a double agent for you and almost died when they found out, I- I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone for you, so many times. And when I needed you, you left me.”

She saw him frown at her words, contraptions and conspiracies, and it didn’t take long for her to put two and two together on what had come to his mind. “You’re still mad at me about The Device.”

Midas’s frown deepened at the proper mention of the cursed contraption, memories flooding back of the dreaded day. The walls of water, the broken Agency, SHADOW’s troops storming them… holding them, holding his little sister at gunpoint as they forced the two of them to turn to their side. Forcing them to betray their own, to betray their family… leaving him with no choice but to agree, or to face the consequences.

In just those ten minutes after the storm returned, he had lost everything. They had checked their plans so many times, making sure every last detail of The Device was prepared and at the best quality it could be, and in the end, it was all for nothing.

It wasn’t her fault, and he knew that. The storm clearly had its own plans, and they never would have been able to account for them. Yet every time he thought about The Device’s failure… he found himself searching for someone to blame other than himself, and it just so happened that Jules was his victim. She was a victim of his arrogance which she didn’t deserve… and he had put so much unnecessary pressure on her in the process because he hated his own failure.

So he would deny all of it. “Jules, I- that’s ridiculous-“

“Don’t lie to me!” Jules bellowed, ripping her arm away from his grasp. “I can see it in your eyes, every time you look at me! Every. Single. Damn. Time!”

The tears fell freely as she only grew more frantic. “You’re disappointed in me because I messed up your stupid Device, and I screwed over your life and everyone’s lives because I failed everyone! I failed you, I failed all of our friends, no matter how hard I worked on it- on everything, I- I ruined everyone’s lives and now I’m just a burden to everyone, to everyone on this stupid island and this stupid- stupid flood and- and stupid Device, stupid SHADOW, stupid me… I…”

Hyperventilating. She was hyperventilating. Unable to breathe. Before her rant had even finished, arms had wrapped around her tightly, and she was vaguely aware through her pounding heart of someone's hands clutching her tightly, her hair and her back. The contact was enough for her to finally break down, sobbing all of the emotions she had been longing to get rid of into her brother’s chest.

There were shuddering breaths against her neck, soon replaced by a face burying itself in her shoulder as it held her tightly. “I’m so sorry,” said his strained voice. And on his final word, it broke. “God, I’m so sorry, Jules.”

As what must have been minutes went on, she felt herself calm a little as she focused on the fast, but steady beat of his heart. To be in his embrace like this again… it was finally a sense of security, one she wasn’t sure she had felt since the days before she was dragged into the war conflict. At one point, they had fallen to their knees together, drawing comfort as they held onto each other for dear life.

Finally, Midas pulled gently away and thumbed away whatever tears were on her face, though the attempt was ineffective, as they had yet to stop spilling from her eyes. She finally found the courage to look at him, and to her astonishment, there lay a tear against his pale face, a sight she hadn’t seen in a long time. Whether he felt it or had finally come to his senses from seeing her expression, he quickly wiped it away and cupped her cheek. “I’ve been selfish,” he rasped out. “And you didn’t deserve any of it, Jules. The Device was an error on my end. I pushed you too hard to finish it, and the storm had other plans regardless. But I wanted someone to blame, and you were there… and you didn’t deserve any of that. If there is anyone to blame for all the suffering we’ve been through, that you have been through, it’s me. It’s no one else but me, Jules.”

And those words, coming from him and only him, were all the relief she had wanted since Doomsday.

She collapsed further into his arms and laid the back of her head upon his chest. “Why did we fail? Why…?”

“Because the storm had capabilities we were completely unaware of,” he said, resting his chin atop her head. “We weren’t prepared for those capabilities, not at all. You failed only because I put too much pressure on you to make everything perfect. I’ve always done that to you. I’ve always thrown you into situations without asking your opinions about the matters, and that is all my fault. Only mine.”

She found the heart to muster a watery laugh. “You… don’t have to keep saying that.”

“Then that should just prove to you how sorry I am,” he said with a ghost of a smirk, and this time, his playful cockiness didn’t bother her.

She finally asked, “what was it like… after you left? How fid you even get out?”

“We’re spies, Jules,” he said, but his smile faded into a grimace. “However, I… barely made it out, I have to admit.”

So he told his tale, from turning a guard to gold and escaping his prison to being intercepted somehow not by Chaos Agent, who was supposedly always watching, but by a different agent who had let him go (who she could only assume to be Hazard). “As much as I hate to admit it… I was so afraid when I had escaped, Jules,” he said softly. “I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t have a plan, and I needed a plan. I can’t think without a plan. I couldn’t think properly for weeks. But I always planned on going back for you, I swear it.”

“Good,” she teased, rubbing her hand over her dried tear tracks.

He wrapped his arms around her, even tighter than before. “You mean everything to me, Jules. You always have, and you always will… And I’m so, terribly sorry for leaving you to think otherwise.”

And for the first time in what seemed to be forever, Jules truly felt at ease, and the two would maybe, finally start to heal.

[caterpellas]

munich nights • harry styles 2

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (thigh riding, oral f receiving, girl on top n i think that’s it)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut, it’s the works y’all

pt 2/3 (one is here)           word count: 6k

a/n: this is the penultimate bit now :) i’m actually super nervous to post this lol i’m a mess anyway pls enjoy 

chapter 2 playlist

you couldn’t lie, you cried yourself to sleep that night, with a movie you sort of cared about playing in the background. harry didn’t love you, and what used to be the strongest friendship in mankind had now crumbled apart and returned to a state of distant nothingness. harry didn’t love you. he didn’t have to say those words to you for you to know they were true. the realisation hit you about twenty minutes after harry left like an arrow to your chest, that was so recently covered in his ejaculate. not only were the pair of you virtually inseparable, you worked together as well and you had absolutely no idea what was going to happen now. you felt too ashamed for him and his band members to see you now after last night.

waking up in a damp patch of tears in your double bed, you try your hardest to get on with your day and forget last night. a bath felt appropriate so, just before midday, before you’d even greeted your friends yet, you ran one. the tub itself was freestanding and as deep as your head when you sat in it, the victorian taps centred in the middle. it was definitely the nicest bath you’d had in your life. you stripped off last nights clothes that you had shamelessly fallen asleep in and hoped to god the hot water of your bath would erase the images of last night, but the feeling of harry’s touch burned hotter then any water.

almost an hour later, milo, your drummer, knocked on the door of the bathroom you were still in.

“y/n? you in there? we haven’t seen you since last night before you and harry left. is everything okay?” milo’s voice reached you through the oak walls. you wanted to tell him that nothing was okay, and that you’re most important relationship ceased to exist but you couldn’t bare to tell anyone else, especially your friend and bandmate of 5 years.

“i’m all good, i’ll be out soon.” you make it downstairs another half an hour later, the need for a cup of tea driving you to the kitchen. as you reached the breakfast bar right next to the kitchen, you saw the sickening mop of brown curls that you were hoping to avoid. he turns to face you at the sound of your slippers against the tiled floor.

but instead of plain ignorance, a much more unexpected reaction finds its way to harry as he greets you, “y/n! we were beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

you stood in bewilderment at harry’s attempt at a joke, wondering why he was trying you like all of last night never happened to either of you. but you picked this over cold silence so went along with it, “yeah sorry i needed to recover from the jet lag yesterday.”

it was sort of true, you were feeling the time difference and were grateful to be able to rest today. aside from plans to go out this evening, you were all going to rest up at home. which meant being in close quarters with the man you were trying so hard to avoid. making your cup of tea on the old aga kettle, your friends went back to discussing tour details, chatting about last and what was in store for the rest of the trip. you got a feeling their plans for the future weren’t going to be that plain and simple.

-

by the evening, you had all found yourselves comfortably sat around the fire outside, eating takeout from a german restaurant nearby. it was really good, and although you and harry had barely spoken more than those few words to each other things weren’t as awkward as you were dreading they’d be. usually, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, you and harry would be sat next to one another, your sides touching all the way down whilst you giggled over something harry was telling you.but as it goes, milo and olly sandwiched you between their huge bodies.

“does anyone know the name of the club we’re going to tonight?”

your ears pricked up at the mention of going to a club. you didn’t realise you were going out-out.

“panorama, i think? i put harry’s name on the guest list.”

it occurred to you that you were heavily underdressed for an exclusive nightclub. you had a good feeling they wouldn’t accept your cargo pants and grubby trainers. jumping up from the bench you run to the door, “i need to go change!”

you opted for an ever so slightly classier look and went with a small pleated skirt and a cropped cardigan. not a combo you’d usually wear, it was a little more fitted then you’d choose for yourself but you’d compromise a little to get in the club. you stuck with the dr martens purely for comfort and called it a night there. you loved your style for many reasons, but the most important one was that it was low effort. it took a maximum of 20 minutes to get ready and you took pride in that.

the group had organised to have a limo to share instead of a taxi, so harry was a little more protected from paparazzi and also to fit the size of your party. they were all waiting outside on the drive when you got downstairs and in unison, their heads turned to face you.

sarah grinned at you, “i love it.”

“very cute,” charlotte smiled as well.

you responded with a “cheers” before daring to look at harry. he was wearing a silk shirt and slacks in a baby pink colour. nothing different to harry’s usual attire but the outfit still sent a chill down your spine. well that, and the way he was looking at you. it was dark out but you could still see how electric his green eyes were as they stared directly at you. you’d been caught off guard, harry wasn’t someone you were prepared to connect with again this evening. in fact, you’d convinced yourself that you didn’t even care whether harry was going to be there or not (utter lies of course). but by the way he was looking at you, you knew this wasn’t the end and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

-

the vip section of ‘panorama’ was plush and teal coloured, with flower garlands and strip lights along the ceiling. you had a lounging area all to yourselves, with big padded benches and cushions. it was luxurious and if you weren’t so highly strung from having harry sat so near by, you’d fall asleep on it. you drunk so many cocktails by this point and your worries seemed to fade away into the loud club music.

“y/n.”

harry was sat next to you, but distantly. he was chatting to mitch before he said your name. no matter how loud the music playing was, you’d still always here his voice. turning to him, you asked, “harry?”

he’s smiling at you, like nothing has changed, “how come you haven’t danced yet this evening?”

it was a good question- you loved to dance more than you loved to perform. harry would always make fun of you, the shimmy you would do when he was playing disco in the studio and the way you always swayed along to fleetwood mac, pretending to be stevie nicks on stage. the reason you weren’t dancing is because you were far too obsessed with the closeness you had achieved with harry in your booth.

“i haven’t quite been feeling it just yet,” you teased back and you felt as though things with harry had gone back to normal, so you dared to ask, “are we good?”

harry’s boyish smile took over his face as he gave you a definite, “yes.”

“well i’m feeling more in the mood now so i’ll see you later,” you get up to exit, smoothing out the pleats in your skirt and struggle to take your eyes away from his. dreaming he’ll follow you, you make your way into the adjacent room filled to the brim with people. the song was bassy, but mellow and you could immediately feel your body moving to it. before you knew it you were almost next to the dj booth, opposite the ceiling high speakers and the song was perfect. you hadn’t felt this relaxed since yesterday’s plane journey and you let your unease pour out of your limbs as they writhed to the music. it took a few minutes to take you out of the trance and realise, although surrounded by a mass of people, you weren’t alone.

a tall figure was behind you, and without turning you knew who it was. you could smell his cologne easily- it was gucci of course and it was heavenly. not even daring to turn to him, you stayed facing away, afraid of what it meant to have him in your view. his hands, large and firm, gripped your shoulders, like he did twice yesterday, and his hot breath was against your neck.

“can i join you?”

the question itself was said innocently, this wasn’t the first time harry had asked to dance with you, and probably wasn’t the last, but it felt different to you now. god how you missed the simplicity of harry being unattainably yours as a friend. finally bracing yourself to meet his eyes from almost a foot above you, you spun, his arms falling from your shoulders to your forearms.

smiling up at the familiar face of the love of your life, you said into his ear, “of course you can dance with me.”

dancing with harry was nothing sexy or erotic but it was the most intimate you’d ever been with him, before last night. harry loved to dance almost as much as you and the best part of his whole personality was nothing other than his devil-may-care disposition. it reminded you of the times he’d twirl you while you were stood somewhere completely out of the blue, or when he’d snap his fingers along to a song and by the time you’d joined in the two of you had broken out into a full dance routine just for the sheer fun of it.

harry grabbed your small, clammy hands and pulled you into him, and then straight back out as wild cherry played through the speakers and you inaudibly laughed at his initial dance moves.

“is that all you’ve got styles?” you smirked at him before laughing at the ridiculous version of the hustle he was trying to pull off. he looked way better than you’d ever want to declare, looking fresh out of the 70s whilst funk music played to his dance moves. it suited him down to a fine art and the song was tailor made for his steps. your hips circled to the song and you remembered just how much you love it. pulling out some more unconventional dance moves you went for the peace signs over your eyes and harry’s head fell back in laughter whilst watching you.

this was it. the perfect moment you were so afraid of losing with him. you understood now that whatever yours and harry’s union was, it was far stronger than you ever gave it credit for. harry and you were back to normal again and instead of last night’s beer goggles making you far more candid then you’d like, now your feelings were crystal clear. harry was all you’d ever want.

as boney m. began to fade in now harry’s dancing had become more intense and now the pair of you were far closer then you’d ever danced together before. one of his hands made a brave attempt at looping around your waist and spinning you, making your skirt flare up in the process. usually you’d be shy and care, but only harry was paying attention to you and the thought of him have a small peak at what was under your skirt didn’t even slightly bother you. one of your arms clutches his lean bicep and you moved in unison together, only inches away from one another now.

“i love watching you dance,” harry whisper-shouted in your ear. unprepared for that statement, you stare into his eyes as they flashed in the colours of the lights. his gaze is unfocused, undecided on if it will look into your own or watch your lips, dampened from the small lick you gave them. his own lips were distracting you as well, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth, a habit he picked up when he was feeling conflicted. you wished he wasn’t such a hard man to read. the only definite you held onto right now was that he wanted to kiss you, reaffirmed when his eyes closed and his head ducked to meet your own.

“harry,” you place a hand on his exposed chest, “i can’t kiss you.”

he knew why. he knew that it crossed the boundary you weren’t meant to cross again. but much like you that didn’t want to stop him. so, despite himself, harry ignored your remark and hesitantly placed his lips on yours. the feeling of his kiss muted the sounds around you and in desperation you urged him to kiss you harder. no matter the height difference between the two of you, harry and you still felt perfectly matched. harry’s hands came into your tangled hair and gripped at the top of your neck, his lips even firmer against yours at the new angle. this was far more passionate then last night, and you were seeing harry in a whole new light. he wasn’t just your friend, an unrequited love and now a one time sexual partner but something more on par with your own emotions. harry’s zealous kiss seemed to correspond with all the feelings you had never spoken about him. but then he pulled away, leaving you empty again. you frowned at him, “why did you stop?”

he simply smiled back at you, soothing your nerves, and took your hand as he pulled you through the crowds to a curtained doorway. the room he took you to was a semi circle, the wall surrounded by a settee, and the floor was carpeted and plush with cushions and blankets. it reminded you of a harem, which made you question harry’s choice of destination. it was far quieter in here, the music now a dull bass in the background.

“why are we in here?” you looked over to harry who had already taken a seat on the sofa.

“i thought you’d want more privacy,” he grinned at you. harry’s attitude towards the whole thing was starting to irritate you instead now. why was he acting like this whole thing was so casual? did it not affect him like it did you?

“you’re kidding right? what even is this?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms across your chest. you were pissed.

harry’s brows creased in confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“what’s the matter? how can you ask me that? things are different now harry and you know it.”

he knew it. he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you that he’d wanted things to be this way for the past 2 years. it’s why he was constantly cracking jokes or messing around with you, making you smile and laugh brought him more joy then anything else in his life. it’s why he was so overwhelmed by white hot jealousy when he saw your mouth around that arsehole sound tech’s dick.

“jesus, y/n we’re friends aren’t we? why do we have to talk about that anyway, we’re having fun.”

“because harry,” you huff at him, “unlike you my feelings are a little bruised from last nights events.”

his eyes momentarily filled with guilt, “i know that was- not decent of me.”

“uh you think? i love you harry but you’re not pulling this crap on me again,” you tried to sound stern but his eyes melted you. you looked away but his hand reached for yours. this was it though. your temper had gotten the better of you and you were ready to leave him here and say goodbye to any relationship you formerly had with him. if he did anything again to you like he did last night you were sure your dignity would crumble into unfixable pieces. sighing, you finish off by telling him, “i can’t do this anymore harry.”

“i don’t want to lose you,” harry’s eyes were filled with pleading.

“you should have thought about that before i put your cock in my mouth,” you snapped at him. you hated to admit that saying out loud what you and harry had done had turned you on immensely. harry’s pupils dilated in synchronisation with yours. he played right into this.

“so you’d never do it again?” why was he asking you this?

“no. i wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing what he did to you anymore. even though the sight of him with his half buttoned silk shirt, damp with sweat as he lounged on the settee, his high waisted trousers spread apart along his long legs made your legs feel like mush. your voice was so convincing that harry’s face fell and in an instant you wanted to eat your words.

“y/n, i’m sorry if i overstepped,” he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers, “do you wanna just go back to being friends?”

there was only one right answer to that question;

“fuck no.”

you jumped harry then and there and he fell back onto the padded seat, hands strongly gripping your waist. you quickly kissed him and in shock you retreated, your eyes locking, before connecting your lips with him again. his hands move south to your hips and then to your buttocks, giving your scantily clad cheeks a squeeze. you knew from a past discussion harry was an ass man, after a few drinks together one night you were talking about likes and dislikes. it reminded you of one preference in particular. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tugged it gently and an audible moan fell in between his lips against yours.

“fuck, y/n do that again,” he mumbled into your mouth and you responded with another pull on his curls. his hips jerked up to meet the middle of your legs and between the thin material of his trousers and nothing covering your crotch other then the thin material of your underwear, little was left to the imagination. you could feel harry’s erection growing the more your hand tangled into his hair. your bare thighs clutched tightly by harry’s hands and you could tell they were longing to hold your bare ass. with your other hand on harry’s bicep, you moved it down to his hand and guided it up along your cheek and he hummed in satisfaction.

“hey harry,” you spoke into the kiss, “you remember california?”

how could he forget- you had spent the whole day drinking on the beach and that was where you had confessed about all your likes and dislikes, giggling like little kids the whole time. who knew that several months later that secret information would become so beneficial?

“what about it?” he asked as your lips traced down his neck to his chest.

“do you remember what i told you?”

a switch flipped in harry’s head and he suddenly knew what you wanted. his thigh came between your legs and you put your weight onto it eagerly, and his hands rocked you back and forth on the cotton of his slacks. the friction was exactly what you needed and you had never been more thankful that harry had listened so intently to your confession; you loved dry humping.

harry’s gaze was on you as you continued to grind on him, and the sight was enough to turn him from semi to fully hard.

“does that feel good?” harry asked you and you were too shy to answer him, only whimpering in response, “tell me y/n.”

“it feels so good harry,” you moaned out. your pace had begun to quick as you needily searched for your release. you could feel your wetness seeping into the material against his thigh and a faint squelching noise could be heard underneath your mewls of satisfaction. your hand fell across the bridge of his nose, outlining his sharp cheekbone and rest along his neck, licking his lips as he watches you get yourself off on him.

on a normal occasion, you’d be too embarrassed to ever ride someone’s thigh, it made you the centre of their attention and that frightened you. but knowing that harry’s undivided recognition was different. you loved having his hands and eyes all over your body. not that he knew, but it was his after all. if he wanted it to, it could belong to him.

“harry,” you gasped, “i’m going to cum.”

to know he was about to witness your undoing just like you’d seen his thrilled him.

“cum for me y/n,” harry pushed your hips for you, gripping the flesh of your ass, and rolling you back and forth till you let out a sob as you came all over his thigh. your forehead fell onto harry’s shoulder as you recollected yourself. that was the first time you had ever cum just from humping. and it was on harry’s leg. the familiar blush crept up your arms to your neck and cheeks and you couldn’t bare to lift your head off of harry’s shoulder.

“y/n,” harry’s voice gently interrupted, “not to rush you or anything but my trousers really are soaked.”

his fingers slid down your thighs to help you off of his leg, your own like that of a baby deer. you weren’t expecting harry to unbuckle his belt and slip his trousers off his legs, the thick wet patch taking up a lot of the fabric.

“what are you doing?”

“well you don’t expect me to keep them on do you?”

“i sort of thought you’d just leave again.”

harry’s face flushed in shame, “i am really sorry i did that last time, y/n. it was a dick move.”

“just a little,” you give him a half smile to let him know you couldn’t stay mad at him. stood in awkward silence, your panties dripping with your cum and harry in nothing but a shirt and boxers, you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t common  that you’d find an uncomfortable lack of words to say to harry.

finally, after one too many moments in silence, harry beckoned you with his finger, “c’mere.”

suddenly you found yourself snugly wrapped in his arms, your cheek to his chest as he held you.

“harry i-“

“don’t just yet please.”

so you stayed that way for a little longer. you realised that this could be the last chance you hold him like this, so you mentally noted every last thing about him you loved. his smell, typically of gucci, but underneath the artificial scent a more clean, personal one of clean bedding and shampoo. his arms, and how their length seemed to engulf you better than any of the softest, plushest bedding in existence. his lips that you could feel on the top of your head and how the feeling of them on your own was tattooed to you now. you knew that if you ever kissed anyone in the future it couldn’t penetrate the lasting layer of his.

he pulled away from you a few moments later, looking down over you. searching his eyes for any clues to his own thoughts from under your lashes, you found nothing. it didn’t mean you were expecting what came next.

as you started, “i understand if you don’t want to do this anymo-“

“i love you.”

the words hung in the air in stunned silence, and you were in too much of a state of shock to know how to take them. he loved you? was he saying the way he always did or did he mean he loved you the way you loved him?

“harry you don’t mean that you.. does that mean you, like, love-me-love-me?” you sounded like a teenager, your juvenile question was all you could muster up.

“i’ve always loved you y/n,”

“i know you have bu-“

“will you just let me finish please?” his fingers pressed against your lips to silence you, “you always talk without actually listening. let me a second please.

“i realised that you’ve never been my friend. don’t interrupt. you were never my friend because you were always like way more than that. friend seemed too small a word for us, you know? and then that day after i saw you and that shitty sound tech fucking in your room i was so angry and jealous and then i realised how much i wanted to be in his place. but you and me had already had such a good relationship i was worried i would ruin it by changing our dynamic. then on the night i met camila, you were so distant from me. i was upset and camila was into me so i was going to fuck her, but i couldn’t. i haven’t had sex with anyone since i saw you and-“

“his name was josh.”

“y/n i really couldn’t give a fuck what his name was. but anyway last night that prick wouldn’t leave you alone and i had to do something, and i wasn’t planning on taking things where they went but by the time you’d brought up my tattoos i was in too deep. i hate that i left you last night. i wanted to say all of this then, but i was too scared. so i left and hoped things would go back to normal between us. but our normal is nothing compared to what we had last night.”

overwhelmed, you sat down on the settee, leaning back to accommodate all of this information.

“so you want to be with me?” you asked him, still not believing it for yourself.

harry beamed at you, “i know, crazy right?”

“i just- i,” you stuttered over your lack of words.

“you don’t have to feel the same why i just figured it was best to be honest.”

you couldn’t help it, but you snorted at him, “you’re kidding right? i have not wanted anything more in my entire life.“

harry knelt down in front of you, and from this height you to were level. you could see eye to eye as equals now. his lips came to your forehead and softly kissed you there, your eyes fluttering closed. it was contentment to know he was finally yours. moving even closer to you, harry moved your legs aside and came between them and you had to prevent him from getting too close so your still-damp panties didn’t come into contact with his expensive shirt.

“you know,” you could feel harry’s lips turn upwards into a smirk on your forehead, “this means you don’t have to feel quite as worried about me fucking you anymore. i’m yours now, y/n.”

he lowered onto the back of his heals, taking his head to the level of your breasts, and he moved back a bit to take in the sight of you. you had to have been a mess, your black eyeliner probably smudged and your hair knotted around your head. your legs were still wide apart, giving harry the greatest opportunity to see under your little tartan skirt.

his pupils widen at the sight, “i can’t believe i’ve never seen you in a skirt like this before. you look so cute in it. it gives me great opportunity to do this,” his hands slid up your thighs slowly and surely, eventually coming down so that they were on the inside of your legs, just before your crotch. you were at his mercy at this angle, and he used it to his advantage. his long fingers brushed up against your clothed core and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“are you still sore from earlier?”

you nodded and swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. his fingers moved up towards your hips, bumping your clit in the process and grabbed the sides of your tight underwear. pulling them down your legs, he got to see your pussy for the very first time. mouth practically salivating at the sight of your already wet lips, he began kissing along the insides of your legs, working inwards from the knee. he stopped at the edge of your thighs, teasing you with no touch. you hips were writhing at the need for contact and he pinned your thighs down, restricting you.

“i want to undress you first.”

his nimble fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on your cardigan and it only just occurred to you that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. your bare sternum is exposed and you can tell harry is surprised to find you completely naked behind the cardi. slipping it off your shoulders, your perky breasts are finally unleashed for harry’s viewing.

“we never fucked,” you blurred out.

“what do you mean?”

“me and josh never had sex. i haven’t actually had sex in about two years.”

harry’s jaw sunk slightly at your confession, “but- how haven’t you?”

you felt embarrassed by this. no one ever compared to harry so why would you waste your time on them? you mostly only fooled around with josh because you needed a distraction from harry’s constant sex appeal.

“well josh and me never actually got around to it since he left the crew and aside from him there hasn’t been anyone else.”

you couldn’t believe you were saying this to him right after he’d undressed you, the air con hardening your nipples. harry couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying, especially when his name was mentioned and your breasts were on full display to him. ignoring your rambling, harry’s mouth came down onto your right nipple, circling it with his tongue and ending your words with a gasp. your nipples were more sensitive then you’d initially realised, or maybe it was just because it was harry’s mouth encapsulating them, but the sensation felt like enough to make you cum from that alone.

“harry, i,” you sighed out breathily. sentences weren’t able to be formed presently, it was all too much. not for harry though, who had no qualms about saying, “i want to fuck you in nothing but that little skirt.”

you tried to press your thighs together, his words jolted down to your clit and you needed some kind of release. harry’s mouth went back to your boobs and down the valley in the middle, licking down it, to your pierced belly button and finally his head disappeared under your skirt. you instinctively placed your feet up on either side of the sofa to spread your pussy even further for his access.

his tongue mercilessly licked up from your taint to your clit and you bucked in delight.  the muscle of his tongue pressed hard against the sensitive ball of nerves in quick movements, lapping at it rhythmically. you couldn’t control the volume of your moans now, cussing incoherently to him. but it wasn’t enough, you needed harry fully.

pulling his hair, you were so close to cumming but you couldn’t let it happen yet, not till he’d been inside you.

“harry stop,” you manage to get out, “i need you in me.”

he drew back as soon as you spoke and you leant forward to unbutton his shirt, but you lost your balance as you go forward, falling on top of him onto the cushioned floor. you both burst into giggles at your clumsiness, it was something that you joked about a lot together. you hadn’t loved anyone more then you loved harry right now, his chuckles like music to your ears as you lay on him nearly naked, his curls sat on his forehead.

“i love you,” harry told you, his hand cupping your cheek from below.

“i love you too,” leaning to kiss him, you moved your hand down and gripped his erection, forcing a moan from his lips, “now make love to me.”

he wasted no time in finishing off unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and you ground your hips into his erection, forcing a groan from his lips. you were so close to feeling harry inside you, only boxers in the way of you two. you sat back and slipped them off his hips. before you got a chance to line him up with your walls, harry interrupted you, “are you in birth control?”

“yes,” you blushed. he smirked at you as he grabbed his hard cock in his hand and positioned it with you. you sunk down ont his cock, sighing is feel yourself being filled. you had craved this feeling for far too long, and harry filled you so well.

“fuck, y/n,” harry’s eyes closed when you engulfed him fully. adjusting, you began to bob up and down on his dick slowly, getting used to the foreign sensation. it stung a little bit as you hadn’t been filled in so long, but the need for harry numbed any of the pain. harry’s sweaty hands came up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples as you began to quicken your pace.

“how do i feel inside you? does it feel good?”

you could only nod back, his cock hitting your g spot so well from this angle. as you began to speed up, your tits bounced delectably in front of harry’s face and he had to take over dominance, slamming his hips up to meet your own. his erection pounded into you, your mouth eliciting depraved whines. your skirt was swinging around your barely clothed ass and giving harry only sneaky glimpses of how the two of you were connected.

with harry’s hips moving more erratically, you could tell he was close.

you leant your mouth into his ear to whisper, “i want you to cum inside me.”

that was enough to tip harry over the edge, and so you could both finish together he reached his thumb under your skirt and thumbed your clit, sending your body into a heavenly orgasm. harry unloaded into your walls as you clenched around him, the both of you finishing in unison. flopping down onto his chest, he left his cock in you, both too fucked out to move yet. when he had softened, he slipped out of you, making you wince at the feeling.

“so,” you said into harry’s chest, “does that mean you’re mine now?”

his hand rubbed the small of your back, “i’m yours.”

[spidersbane]

Hello! Can I get MCU, The Hobbit, and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ship? 💚

Appearance: She/her. 179,5cm tall, rectangle body shape. Fair skin complexion with quite a few birthmarks. Dyed brown with honey-red highlights, shoulder-length, straight hair with bangs. The left eye is a mix of two colors – a smaller portion of (darker) greyish-blue and a larger portion of hazel; while the right eye is just a (lighter) greyish-blue. Heptagon face shape with two dimples on the left cheek and one on the right cheek (only visible while smiling). A gap between the upper front teeth.

Personality (good and bad traits): Ever since I was a kid, I was always quite mature for my age – I identify myself as an old soul. I come off as polite and well-mannered to strangers, yet I tend to keep it to myself by being reserved. But, that’s because I have social anxiety and I’m nervous and shy when meeting/talking to people. The only people I’m comfortable with being with my inner circle – closest friends and family. I am usually more “open” with my friends than with my family. With my friends I can be my “truest-self” – I smile more, I laugh more, I feel more accepted and understood. I am the mom and the fashionista of the group. Don’t get me wrong, I am fiercely protective of my family, especially of my mother and younger sister. But, lately, I’ve been feeling like the “black sheep” of the family, Cinderella who’s been taken advantage of. I express my affection for the people I care about in little, but practical, ways. I can be a little stiff when it comes to open, gushy displays of affection. Others turn to me for help and advice. I’m kind-hearted and generous, always ready to help a person in need. Always have been motherly towards children. Very awkward at keeping small talk (usually with people that I’m not that close with). Absolutely, hate speaking in front of a public, and if I do, because of my nervousness, I tend to mess up my words and/or I practice whatever I’m about to say in my head at first. I appreciate the simplicity and am often most comfortable when I’m not getting too much attention from the world. I am sensitive – both to criticism and to others’ feelings (I sponge up the feelings and moods of people and the environment around me). Have a hard time saying no or expressing my true thoughts, feelings. I get influenced by other people’s opinions/thoughts quite hard (I take everything to the heart), that is why I tend to keep a lot to myself (may come off as a little bit tense, secretive, mysterious). I avoid the harsh reality by daydreaming (almost every day) – imagining myself in situations far from my current circumstances. Sort of like a self-escape. I worry a lot and overthink almost everything. I am easily distracted and my attention span can be quite short. I have an internal struggle between my needs and wants. I can lack focus and be indecisive as a result – when I decide on one route, I am pulled in another direction at the same time (“But what if…”, “on the other hand...”). That is why I’m having a bit of a struggle with deciding what I want to do in the future (career-wise). I am easily overwhelmed by pressure and stress. There is a self-destructive side to me (self-critical, lack of self-confidence) that I’m working on by confronting my fears (coming out of my shell). Don’t like taking pictures, or other people taking pictures of me. I feel most content when I’ve straightened out all the details of everyday life. I have a routine, that I follow by mostly every day, and if something small changes in that routine, I start to have a small internal anxiety attack. Also, I like to do things my own way, like, when it comes to cleaning the house or organizing stuff, etc. I get triggered even if people don’t do the laundry the way I do. I guess you could describe me as a perfectionist, clean/control freak. In triggering situations I can be impulsive, spontaneous, quick to act. Quick flare-ups of anger/annoyance when being provoked on my patience. Even when I’m feeling low, I manage to find humor in life and have fun with whatever I do have. Although I tend to bottle things up, I am an emotional person and my emotions are genuine – I love and care deeply and passionately and wish no ill will upon anyone, yet it hards for me to imagine someone falling in love with me or just liking me.

Hobbies, likes: My hobbies are cleaning, writing (re-writing song lyrics, making small notes, writing stories), listening to any type of music, catching up on my favorite films and TV shows, hanging out with friends, going to the cinema, or the club, being out in nature, reading, traveling. I like history, cooking, fashion magazines (or fashion in general), road trips, spirituality, mythology, books, orange juice, previous decades, cottage-core, dark academia.

Overall: Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-sexual. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. “Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. That’s it, thank you!

hey @pataim ! thanks so much for sending in your request, and thank you so much for your honesty about yourself. like it takes a lot to air yourself out like that, and I admire your strength for it. but also fINALLY a 'Man from U.N.C.L.E' ship! I love that movie and attempt Illya's accent all the time, so this will be fun :)

For the MCU/Marvel - I ship you with Steve Rogers/Captain America ! 

no one can tell me that Steve doesn’t have a set routine honestly, so let me just get that out there 

he seems intimidating at first, esp as a public figure and Avenger, but Steve is nothing but passionate about what he does. so it may clash w your lack of direction, but I could honestly see him envying that a lil bit, like it’s not that you don’t have direction, it’s the fact that you still have a choice in the matter. 

your love of history put you in a museum, here you bumped into Steve in a horrible disguise. he struck up the conversation first, and once you got past the whole “holy crap that’s Captain America”, you could actually engage with him in the material and boi was he smitten 

he would love to join you when your rewatched your fave things, bc not only is he catching up on more media he missed out on, he’s also getting to know your interests in a way that’s comfortable with you. it avoids all the small talk, but leaves room for discussion after the film/show ! 

since you tend to sponge up a lot of what other people believe, it’s totally Steve who actually tries to question what you think and what you feel about things. he’s someone who encourages you to have your own opinions and to stay true to those thoughts. so while with him, you can rely on him to learn about yourself, you also gain skills for independence

overall, Steve is super patient, and despite his chaotic job as Cap, he takes comfort in his routine, and would find comfort incorporating a partner’s routine into his life. and as you grow in a relationship with him, he’s patient about teaching you how to be your own person, and helping you learn more about yourself. and while it’s uncomfortable, you grow stronger throughout being with him :) 

For The Hobbit - I ship you with Bilbo Baggins !

Bilbo is the definition of introvert, and you're right there with him

not that introversion is ever a bad thing, bc it isn't. but Bilbo is quite content to sit in his little hobbit hole and vibe. like Gandalf had to come find him, ya know. dude disappeared from his own bday.

but anyways. it's not that Bilbo lacks purpose, it's just that he's more content with a quieter life. and it seems like his quiet life would balance you out well! like the Shire is so so chill, and there doesn't really seem to be a lot of pressure on the hobbits to pick a profession. like they just genuinely do what needs to get done.

similarly, Bilbo is the type who seems a little bothered by mushy displays of affection. exhibit a: disappearing from his own bday. like he's much more the type to refill your tea when y'all are reading by the fireplace, which he would totally do w you

it will probs take you a little while to warm up to each, given just how introverted you both are. but when he explains that he has set ways of doing things, then if they're compatible w your ways of doing things, then it doesn't take you long to open up to him

like it'll be a little jarring, but he takes comfort in his routines too. and it'll be an event trying to incorporate both of your ways of life together, but he's willing to do it

overall, yours is a very quaint partnership, built on deep respect for one another. neither of you are going to push the other to do things you aren't into. and y'all just live your best lives together tbh :)

For The Man From U.N.C.L.E - I ship you with Illya Kuryakin !

I love my big Russian spy so much, so this is fun for me

so Illya is the epitome of reserved and generally quiet, so it might take a while to really break down his walls and talk to him. and he's not quite sure what to do with you once you join the team

but, he's playing his game of chess alone, and when you sit down and ask to play with him, he opens up a little more after that

if you're one who get sent out on mission with the team, get ready, bc sometimes those missions require a lot of improvising. but you'd probably be at whatever 'base' was, helping run operations from a more secure place. but Illya and Napoleon improvise a lot, leading to a lot of headaches for you and Waverly

Illya has small bursts of anger, but similar to Gaby, most times, you can intervene and he doesn't get violent. or when he does, he tries to make sure it isn't in front of you. but bc you care so deeply for him, you're there for him in the aftermath. and that's how you show your love for him.

by patching him up if he gets cut, by talking him down when he's angry. and just generally trying to take care of him. and he totally does the same for you, especially if you get sent out into the field

and much to Illya's dismay, Solo doesn't refrain form making jokes about you. but if you can take them in stride, then Solo welcomes you into the team just as well :)

[valhallasubstitute]

Yours, And Only Yours Pt.2

-- Sihtric x Virgin!Reader

After travelling with Uthred for many months the fact that you’re still a virgin is revealed in a drunken confession, from that moment on Sihtric can’t help but thinking of making you his.

A/N: hellooo and welcome back for part 2. I hope you enjoy, I’ve got a few more ideas for our boy Sihtric as well as a certain Irishman. So if you like my writing then you shouldn’t have to wait too long 😊

part three

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, oral female receiving, unprotected sex -  it’s the ninth century they have an excuse you don’t.

wc: 2180

It was dark and it was late, dragons breath dancing from your lips as you leant against the stables. You had never intended to be a virgin for this long but no man had ever wanted you badly enough for you to even consider opening your thighs. You admired the simplicity of being a whore and respected their work but you were not willing give yourself so easily.

So your legs remained closed.

Despite the chill the call of your name on Sihtric’s tongue warmed you from the inside out. His shoulders were heaving and for a brief moment you wondered if there had been a fight, but there was no blood,  no new bruises, only his eyes on yours. 

It was pure instinct that had you take a step back as he stepped forward. You felt as if he was hunting you and the minute your back hit the post he invaded your personal space.

Almost.

He stopped inches from you, your bodies so close together that you could feel the heat radiating off him in waves, you could smell the ale on his breath and his gaze just kept burning into you, straight to your center.

‘Why did you refuse him?’ His voice was tight. If you hadn’t known him any better you would have thought he was angry but there was desperation there.  

‘I-‘ the words caught in your throat, the look you had grown accustomed to was in his eyes again. Desperation and something else. ‘I did not desire him.’

‘Then who is it that you desire?’ It was the way he said the word, how it dripped from his tongue. Desire. Lust. Wanting. The unknown look in his eye. All the same. ‘You deny every man who wishes to touch you, you risk all of our lives by pulling a blade to stop such an advance. Why?’ His voice was steadily rising and with it the beat of your heart. ‘Who is it that you desire Y/N?’

How could you deny it any longer, deny him?

‘You.’

There was a calm before the storm, pupils blown and the final breath taken before the tension broke. His lips were on yours and his hands bunched your hair. The tug was sharp but a delicious ache spread across your scalp. This kiss was not gentle but his lips were soft and plush against your own. You felt as if you were burning up and your clothes began to feel entirely unnecessary. Your hands grasped at Sihtric’s neck as his thigh pushed open your legs. The friction caused a moan to fall from your lips.

You would be willing forfeit your seat in Valhalla if this what you rose to each morning and fell to each night. His lips devouring yours like a starved man. His hands, one of them holding so tightly to the beam behind you that you feared it might crumble. You could feel his strength of his thighs as they ground against you. Harsh and unyielding, the idea of Valhalla paled in comparison.

Sihtric let himself touch you as he had so many time in his dreams. Releasing his grip on your hair he didn’t hesitate to trail his fingers down your neck all the way down to your breasts. He palmed at them, feeling you stiffen beneath his fingers. The noise you made was sinful, even to his heathen ears.

The reality of how he had you, pinned against the stable, withering underneath his touch for all to see had him snapping his hips to your full ones. You were allowing him to touch you like no other man, in a place where every other man could see. Where every other man could see…

The loss of his warmth sent your mind reeling but the desire in his eyes kept you still. ‘Not here. I won’t take you here. Not for your first.’ He was nodding to himself as he said it, convincing himself. You would have let him do anything, take you anywhere he wanted, in any way he wanted. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease before you found yourself in his bed.

‘Who said you could take me?’ His smile was bright in the darkness. The sincere happiness in his smile disarmed you, blinded you to the dark mischief that  lingered there, so much so that you hardly noticed him lifting your dress, nor expect the hand that cupped your heat.

‘You will not deny me Y/N.’

He slipped one finger through your folds as he retracted. Not enough to enter you fully but enough that it coated him, and it felt like you had been struck by lighting as he brought it to his lips.

The walk to his bed was filled with lingering touches, at least one of his hands on you the entire way there. Sihtric enjoyed the way peoples eyes followed the two of you, what he intended to do with you clear to every person in the room. Oh, the things he intended to do.

Your body was pressed against his as soon as the door was closed but he didn’t miss the nervousness in your demeanor. It took all his will not to rip your clothes from you, months of torment pushing him to the limit of self-control.

‘Take off your dress.’ The fabric fell to the ground and he would swear for years to come that the Gods could hear his heartbeat as you walked towards him.

You stood just shy of him. Sihtric began roughly pulling at his belts but you placed your hands on his larger ones and resumed the task yourself. He was smiling at you softly with heavy lidded eyes and you couldn’t help but mirror the look. As a warrior the task was well rehearsed but you took your time, each item of clothing removed exposed a new piece of him to explore. Hard ridges and scars littered the pale skin and as you placed his tunic down his hand came to rest on your waist.

It was warm and rough and the very first to touch you there. He would be the first to touch you everywhere and as he laid you down onto the furs you had never been so grateful for the fact that Sihtric Kjartanson couldn’t hold his tongue.

He kissed you again slowly. The weight of his body was foreign but welcomed, safe and exhilarating at the same time. You smiled as he kissed you, his beard tickling you as he worked his way down. He chuckled breathlessly as you squirmed beneath him, deliberately moving his head side to side in the valley of your breasts.

‘Don’t take your eyes from me.’

Sihtric attached his mouth to one nipple while his fingers brushed against the other. The touch was light, his eyes shining as your face grew red. He worked them both, alternating , favouring neither but devouring both.

All too soon his lips were moving south and your legs tightened on instinct. His kisses eased you, your head falling back onto the furs before a light nip to the soft of your thigh had your eyes snapping back to his. His tongue soothed the sting, kissing it gently before he came face to face with your heat. The look you shared was intense, you could hardly see the colour for black in his eyes.

The feeling of his tongue on you was euphoric but came second to the sound he made as he tasted you. It was a deep moan that vibrated straight through you. While the sensation was new it wasn’t long before you relaxed into it, your hips slowly beginning to grind against his face. A silent plea. The familiar coil in your stomach had begun to tighten yet Sihtric never slowed.

His mouth was hot against your clit and his fingers were cold as they slipped into you. One at first but he soon added another. His fingers worked on you without hesitation, simultaneously making your walls stretch and clench.

When the coil in your stomach finally snapped it felt like a white hot heat had spread all over your body. Sihtric’s name fell from your lips again and again. It had never felt this good before.

Your eyes were screwed shut but you could feel the bed dip as Sihtric returned to your side. You could hear him removing his breeches, his breath fanning your neck the only indication of his proximity. It cooled you and set you on fire all at once.

‘You taste sweeter than any ale.’

Your heart skipped a beat at he nipped at your pulse point. He positioned himself back between your thighs and you could feel his manhood against your stomach. You wanted to taste him but Sihtric placed a hand on your wrist as you reached for him. He didn’t try to hide the want in his eyes, nor the tenderness.

‘Another time, my love.’ His love, his love. The words  spun in your head as he entered you. It was a brief distraction from the pain. You could see Sihtric stiffen, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you had changed your mind. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into the hard flesh. A nod was all he needed. Each inch you took from him became easier, breathless moans mixing from parted lips.

Once the initial pain had subsided you kicked yourself for waiting this long. The feel of him stretching you was immense and when he bottomed out you had never felt so full.

The roll of his hips had your name falling from Sihtric’s lips. You could see that he was holding back, his brow was creased in concentration and his jaw twitching repeatedly. The longer you watched him the clearer it became how much he wanted to do right by you. The longer you watched him the clearer it became how much you wanted him to claim you.

When your hips snapped to meet his the pleasure doubled, the friction sending shocks to your overworked bundle of nerves. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, instead you would use your body. Your hands started to wander over the hard muscle of his back, letting your nails dig in where they pleased as he hit that one spot inside you. Each time he would hiss. Each time his thrusts becoming a fraction harder, faster. Curses mixed with the chanting of his name.

It was obvious his resolve was waning, his grip on your hips tightened. Tight enough to bruise. You took his head in your hands, trembling fingers smoothing the wayward hair from his face. He looked down questioningly. You kissed him once harshly, biting and sucking on his pretty bottom lip. Using your heels on the back of his thighs you pulled him in deeper. His body tensed as you broke the kiss.

‘Take me properly. I will not ask twice.’

The growl that erupted from the back of his throat was almost enough to have you cumming there and then. He shifted his position, becoming impossibly deep within you. The force he pounded you with moved your entire body, the linen of the bed meeting the floor as it shifted under you.

The weight of him pinned you to what remained of the bed, sounds of pleasure echoing off the walls. His breath was ragged and you don’t recognise the noises you’re making. His pace was relentless and you could feel another orgasm building. You knew Sihtric could feel you getting close and you clenched around him for good measure.

‘Y/N.’ His tone was dangerous, the tiniest falter in his rhythm giving away his pleasure. You do it again. The small smirk that was beginning to from was wiped from your face as the rough pad of his thumb rubbed harshly at your clit. His touch had you arching from the bed, your chest flush with his.

Your orgasm slammed into you. Sihtric’s name was ripped from you against your own accord and you swear the world melted away as you milked his cock. The feeling of you so tight around him sent Sihtric over the edge and his thrusts slowed as his own high spilled inside of you.

He collapses beside you, sweaty and panting. You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped you, virgin no more.

Sihtric pulled you to his side, enjoying the way you tucked your body into his. Your hands run across his chest, idly toying with his pendant. The silence that followed was not uncomfortable but you broke it anyway.

‘You called me your love. Does this make me your woman?’ Sihtric hummed in response, his head tilting to get a better look at you.

‘Do you object?’ There was no worry on his face, the way you looked at him was enough to settle any reservations he might have had.

‘No. I am yours, and only yours.’ You did not miss the twitch of his cock or the ghost of a smile, nor the mischief in his eyes.

‘It’s a shame, Finan was looking forward to having his way with you.’

[lettrespromises]

LettresPromise informs you : you have one notification.

author’s letter :

❝dear reader,

given that today is the bisexuality visibility day, i thought it was convenient to write a series of headcanons regarding bisexuality through the lense of different verses. i hope that you had a lovely bi day, my fellow bisexuals, and i wish nothing but the very best for you all.

sealed with a kiss,

nikki.❞

letter object : a series of headcanons where the reader is doing their coming out in the most serene, welcoming and comforting way possible.

genre : fluff.

warnings : none.

> Hawks just sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

Confidence reigns supreme in your bond with Hawks, it’s secret and perhaps silent, but you both know that you can trust each other with everything you possess.

It’s Hawks, after all. He’s pretty chill himself, so you don’t need the need to organize a flashing coming out with a cake or hell, even a plane which passes by him with a message attached to its tail indicating that you’re bisexual.

It doesn’t have to be over the top, and this is what you cherish with Hawks— the simplicity of things.

It probably comes natural, after a day at work and patrol. You’re just both exhausted and crash down on the sofa, your arms cradle the back of your head as a support while Hawks his stretching his wings.

“Keigo, can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead, kid, I’m all ears.”

As a matter of fact, it does come natural.

“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal but I’m bisexual, I just wanted to tell you know since you’re so obsessed with me.”

Regardless whether or not the both of you are in a relationship, his first instinct will be to protect you— whether it’s through wording or gestures.

Picture yourself cradled in his embrace and not only do you have the protection given by his arms, you are also shielded from the rest of the world by his scarlet wings.

He knows out of all people that the world can be a bad place and you’re an absolute gem to his eyes so he can’t help protecting you, nurturing you almost, after all, it’s in his nature.

Then, the pseudo-serious atmosphere is shattered by the man who created it himself. He allows a laughter to break free from his lips, a deed caused by an intense reflexion... or so you thought.

“Pretty bird, do you really think you can fool me? I’ve seen the way you look at Miruko, it’s cute. But I’ve also seen the way you look at me, and it’s also cute. Don’t sweat it, kid, I ain’t surprised one bit.”

Overall, his best atout is that you will feel at ease instantly. Dealing with Hawks equals entering a permanent “no judgement zone”, although... He’s not one to keep it quiet all the time, which leaves a rosy tint on the apples of your cheeks.

> Nami just sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

I wish I was kidding but Nami was actually a very big part of my bisexual awakening.

Nami not only has a sixth sense to detect any changes concerning the weather, she also possesses a sixth sense regarding lies— she can smell a lie from miles away.

This hidden ability of hers is the reason why she does not buy it for a single second when you’re telling her that you’re “fine” when in reality you have been cruelly lacking slumber.

Needless to say, Nami isn’t the type to beat around the bush (especially when the health and well-being of her crew mates are at sake) and will confront you.

She may exude some kind of terrifying aura when she is feeling vivid emotions, but this shell enveloping her is mostly coming from a place of love and care for you. As a matter of fact, she is hiding this haunting fear of you being hurt or anything of the sort behind this scary façade.

Although she is worried about you, she doesn’t want this to embarrass you or make things awkward hence why she decided to pull you aide from the preying eyes of the crew. Nami thinks that intimacy is the best environment to settle issues.

“So, do you mind telling me what’s been bothering you lately?”

“It’s so stupid, I don’t even know how to say this...” You answer but failed to form this sentence without hesitating over the choice of your wording.

“If you’re scared or don’t want to talk about it, we can just go back to whatever we were doing before and I’ll forget everything about it.” She offers, the pads of her fingertips brushing hesitantly against the flesh of your wrist.

You take a few seconds to inhale and exhale deeply, you needed this. You just needed a few seconds before jumping in the abyss “No, no, it’s fine. I agreed to come here so I might as well say it : I’m bisexual.” You sound even more out of breath than expected.

The sole thing you can see before being yanked into Nami’s chest is a grin plastered upon her facial traits, it shines amongst the stars dancing in the sky. “It’s okay to be scared, but just know that I’m so proud of you for having found the courage to tell me this.”

Ever since that day she trained Zeus to electrocute any homophobic person she sees in your honor.

[yuezhong]

593 followers special! + appreciation & shoutouts <3

Hi guys! I’m back. Now, I know it’s been a while since I last posted anything as uni has been kicking my butt, and I was busy with my final sem exams. But now that I’m back, I would like to do something simple to celebrate me reaching 506 followers (596 currently) a while ago, and that is to open a discord server.

Yep, you heard me. I’m having my own discord server! :3 So don’t be shy and come join it if you want. The mods are lovely and so are the users that have joined. The criteria for joining my server is that you have to be 15 or older ! And don’t even try to lie about your age, we can tell from the way you carry yourself.

https://discord.gg/pA9au9S

In addition to celebrating my 5th milestone, I would like to thank these people, which are my lovely friends, fanfic writers and non writers alike, those who are in bold write nsfw/mild nsfw :

To start off, I want to thank these three servers/groups as wholes:

1. Jay and Co.:

@oikawasass -- Jay my spicy cinnamon roll! You are very cool person, periodt. Tbh, I was a little intimidated by you when I first spoke to you in your server. But overtime as I spoke to you more, I can see that you're actually a very lovely and sweet person in your own way. Also, I love how you can be super blunt and say the most hilarious things with a serious tone. You’re self-assured, bold and not afraid to speak your mind, and that is what I admire about you. And thank you, for being there and talking sense into me when I needed it, I appreciate that very much 🥺

And boy oh boy, your writing? *Chef's kiss* the first time when I read one of your works, I fell in love with how easy on the eyes it is. Your writing style is simple yet beautiful. Your choice of words, the imagery and the cohesiveness too! It’s godtier💞, must stan it. I especially love your crack fics/hcs and you whole aesthetic as well. Ma'am, pls spare some of your skills. 

@archn my dear cupcake! Honestly, you're the sweetest person I've ever met and you're so so supportive and patient 🥺, plus I love how crackhead you can get when we’re fooling around lmao. Other than that, you’re really easygoing, not only towards me, but to everyone in general. You’re like that cool cousin that everyone looks up to and deserves all the appreciation in the world.

Also, your writing style is gorgeous and you write the characters' personality so spot on! I also love the flow of words sm ahhhj. I especially love your  headcanons of the bnha boyos working out with their fem s/o, that idea is really creative!

@mizukuni -- Mizuuu, my beautiful, gorgeous sweet red date! Babe, you have come so far from starting off as a new writing blog not long ago to finally achieving 1k followers! I just wanna say congrats for reaching your 10th milestone and you deserve every one of your followers! You can definitely go further and achieve more milestones. As for your writing style, it is simplistic but beautiful: you don’t use many flowery words to express your writing,  yet those simple words you choose bring out what you want to show in your works exactly, and the flow of words is just rly smooth and I stan the cohesiveness 💞. Oh and you have such a cute minimalistic art style that is very pleasant on the eyes! And lately I can see that you’re improving at a quick pace; your drawings are getting more detailed than last time and that’s really amazing! Also, did I mention that I love your blog’s aesthetic as well?

Also, thank you for being there for me when I was feeling down and needed someone to talk to, I cherish that gesture of yours greatly luv 💞As for my first impression of you, I could tell you’re a really chill person and go with the flow easily. Honestly, that helped a lot to buffer my social awkwardness and made me open up to y’all easier. So yeah, I must say a very big thank you once again to you babe 💞

@cherry-pancakes  -- Diiii my sweet cherry blossom! You are the cutest person I’ve ever met sjdnjsn. Your antics remind me of a sweet little sister and that is pretty darn adorable. Even though you can be a little bit wild and spontaneous sometimes, that just adds to your charm! Plus, a little wild every once in a while does’t do harm < 3

As for your writing, it has a simple flow but it is easily understood. If writing styles were aesthetics/ sceneries, yours would be a small flowing stream-- small but smooth flowing, simple but not insignificant. Beauty in simplicity describes your works perfectly. Also, did I mention that you have a really adorable artstyle as well? Your art style is relatively simple but it is so so cute 🥺

 @chizo --Guava my gummy bear! Babe, even though you are no longer active here, I just want to say a very big thank you. Thank you for giving us so many beautifully written works. Seriously, when I first met you through discord and followed your writing blog ( @izukyu ) I fell in love with your works. Something about your writing is just really special, plus I love the fact that you start sentences with small letters (Caps lock be damned lol). Your writing is a mixture of sophistication and simplicity, yet they compliment each other perfectly when you incorporate them into your works! It is pretty impressive because it is not an easy thing to do.

As for my first impression of you, I can tell you’re genuinely a vv caring and supportive person. You give off motherly vibes as well in a good way! You’re like the cool mom friend of the group who looks after everyone tbh 💝. So yeah, once again I want to say a very very big thank you to you again. Thank you for blessing the writers’ community with your wonderful fics and thank you for being such a good friend, let’s continue to be good friends in the near future!

@sourbkg  -- Emmie my blueberry! Babey you are another sweetheart who is caring and so so supportive. I still remembered that time when I felt a little ill and sad and you immediately sent some cat pictures to cheer me up, thank you sm for that love, it helped me a great deal 💕, plus I’m never one to say no to cats and kitties! Also, you know exactly what to say at the right moments! Your easygoing personality makes it easy for other people to open up to you as well.

As for your writing style, it has a simple yet realistic approach. It’s like I can see what is happening in your works like a movie scene and I think that is really cool! Keep up the good work < 3! I really love that one shot with Shoto’s s/o attempting to scare him, it’s so cute ahh! And I love the ending lol, Shoto cracking a joke is golden. 

@kozumie -- Kai! Oh man, where do I start. Okay, here we go. When I first met you in the server, I gravitated towards your easygoing, cool and chill vibe. After talking to you more, I can tell that I love the laid-back chill vibe you give off, you’re so awesome! 

Also, even though I haven’t read much of your work, I must say I really love the way you write. It’s precise and your vocabulary really helps with imagery, the words you can help the readers easily envision what is going on in your story, and that is really amazing! Keep up the good work! Looking forward to more works from you. 

@succu6us-- Anni! Babe, ahh it has been a while since we last spoke too hasn’t it? I missed you along with the others too 🥺 But now that I’m back for the time being, I’m going to be more active. Anni babe, your writing style is minimalistic yet gorgeous. I can tell you’re not a big fan of writing long paragraphs and that’s completely fine! Because if I’m being honest here, I tend to keep things simple and short as well if I can. Yet your simplistic style captures the gist of your works perfectly! did I mention that I love your nsfw works as well 

As for my first impression of you, I could tell that you had a very self-assured, confident aura about you, and you still do! But you are not arrogant at all. On the contrary, you’re a humble and supportive soul! I quite envy that self-assurance and air of confidence you have dear, and I can say that I have grown to be a bit more confident in myself by having you around, so you’re a wonderful influence! Let’s continue to keep in touch sweetie.

@mysterypotatoink -- Morgann! Sugarcakes, let me just say that you are the best big sister figure we could ever ask for! You are so sweet, supportive, loving and willing to help us whenever we need it. You are our server’s big sister and guardian 💕💕 You always make us feel loved and warm inside. Personally, whenever we talk to you, it gives off the vibe like a child wrapped up in a safety blanket-- toasty and secured. 

You’re so strong and wise, I look up to you a lot and want to learn from you in terms of being the pillar of support. 🥺

@needs-serotonin -- Joanna! Muffin, you’re another one of the sweetest, most supportive people in the server. You’re so honest about what you say in the group and know when to say it at the exact time.

Also Joanna, you give off a really cool vibe! Initially, I was a bit shy and unsure on how to approach you but overtime as I warmed up to you, you’re actually pretty easy to get along with! I would love to get to know you better, let’s talk more dear. 

2. Deku protection squad! (Aka dps) :

@suckersuki -- Lei! Sugarplum, you are another one of the sweetest, most supportive people I’ve ever met. You are always there for us when we need it and I love how crackhead you can get hahaha, I still remembered that time when we teased you by shipping you with shinsou hehe. Anyways, back to the original topic of appreciating you, you are a great listener and offer good advice! Also, you’re very easy to talk to and give off a cute vibe! 

Did I mention that I love your writing as well? Your style consists of a mixture of comedy and seriousness. Like, your hcs for the tik tok trend and argument scenario for the bnha boys are really funny; on the other hand, your fic with yandere shoto gives off a completely different aura and it sent shivers down my spine. Miss, pls spare some of them writing skills.

@babydabi -- Mei! Gingerbread, you are a another kind, loving and supportive soul that I have the honor of meeting in the dps. You are really easygoing and considerate. You are not afraid to speak up for your friends, but you do it with a careful choice of words and this shows that you’re really considerate.

As for your writing style, it is much like yourself. You know how to choose the best words to express what you want to and you’re cautious doing so. As I can be a little indecisive on deciding my choice of words, I’d love to learn from you! 

@bakugoustanaccount — Bri! Dear, tbh I was a little intimidated by your vibe when I first met you, bc you just seemed so cool,,, and I’m awkward and still don’t really know how to socialise well with people. But after interacting with you more, you’re actually pretty chill! Let’s talk more, I’d love to get to know you better.

As for your writing style, it has a certain smooth flowing, poetic aesthetic. I fell in love with it the moment I read your latest fic. The way you phrased everything is just so fitting! Pls teach me your ways miss.

@bnhatrashh -- Izzy! Luv, you give off a similar vibe like bri, so I was also kind of intimidated by you at first. But like bri, I opened up to you more and here we are! Let’s get to know each other better, I’d like to talk to you more often.

And I really love, love your way of writing! Your writing style has a pleasant, smooth homey vibe. It’s very soothing to the eyes and your vocabulary complements it really well! 

@cellotonin  —cookie! Love, you’re another one of the sweetest and most supportive people in the dps server ahhhh. You’re always ready to support us whenever and I love your vibe! I’d like to get to know you better sweetie.

Also, I love the way you write! it’s so sweet, warm and ahh so pretty 🥺, did I mention that I love your blog’s aesthetic and theme as well? Your style of writing is mellow and gorgeous! I would love to learn some of that from you pls.

 @hoekaashi — Ash! Dear, you give off a cool and mature vibe. You’re like the awesome aunt of the dps. When I first spoke to you in the dps, I was like “this person is really cool, I’m kinda scared if I mess up”, but that thought quickly faded as I chatted with you more. You’re not only cool, but also super chill, supportive and easygoing! Let’s talk more, I’d love to know you better. 

Also, I really love your way of writing! It has this realistic touch and lets people have the feeling of being in that scenario/situation. Plus, the flow of words are smooth and complements your style! Keep up the good work dear, I look forward to see more works from you in the future.

@xoxo-dede — Dede! Darling, you’re bold, outspoken and really cool. You speak your mind and I like that, also I love your crackhead side. Most of the time, you can say the most hilarious and crackhead things that never fail to crack us up (hahaha, see what I did there? Ok I’ll stop) , you’re a big bouncy ball of energy that we simply can’t get enough of! Oh, and your art style is really cool too!

As for your writing style, it’s simple but has that realistic vibe, like I can see what’s happening clearly through your words and that’s really amazing! Your writing is gorgeous dear.

3. 我的家庭!= my family (tree <3) 

@moonlit-xio -- Ara! My sweetpea, love. You are the sweetest, kindest and most understanding sweetheart I have ever met. You are so selfless and loving, making sure that we’re always accounted for and put us before you. You always make sure to give us the attention, love and support. But love, please let us give you back the love and attention too, for you deserve them as much as us. And you’re absolutely adorable!

And did I mention that the headcanons you come up with for us in the server are absolutely 100% beautiful and on point? No? Well, now you know, because they are. Queen ara, your writing is gorgeous, has a poetic touch and deserves more love, your descriptive skills are immaculate! The words you use to express your writings is just immaculate. Also, you’re very musically talented! Your music taste is delectable and refreshing, not to mention that you have the voice of a siren as well. Your singing is lovely, sweetpea.

@sunshhinnee -- Sunni! My darling pudding, love you are literally sunshine (hahaha,get it? Okay, I’ll stop). You’re so bright, positive and always look at the good side of things even if the going starts to get tough. You bring a warm and chaotic good atmosphere to our server, which serves as a nice distraction whenever I had a bad day or feel upset about something. 

Also, your art-style is really really cute! I like your shortcut way of drawing expressions and the anatomy of your characters haha. It’s not too detailed but you can tell what their expressions are saying and their poses are clear.

@bumbbo -- Max! Bubblegum, you’re another one of the most adorable people I ever met. You’re really easygoing and chill, but can be chaotic good sometimes, I like how crackhead you can get when Sunni is in on it too, haha. I especially love it when you two send memes and funny tiktoks to the group, I do enjoy them very much! Also, have I mentioned how much of a cutie and sweetheart you are? You’re so caring, giving and strong. Always willing to help out and so patient with us.🥺

Also, you have great taste in music and you’re great at writing too! Have I mentioned how on point your headcanons you wrote for us are? If I haven’t, now you know <3. Oh, and your editing skills are superb too! 

@sondering-thoughts -- Aria! Macaron, you’re another one of the sweetest, most understanding, and supportive people in our server. You’re like the server’s mom, living up to your nickname. You always watch out for us and make sure that we are doing well; if we felt down, you never fail to cheer us up by writing comfort headcanons for us and console us with the words we need to hear! Thank you so much, for doing all that for us dear 🥺 Also, the way you fluster us? You’re a pro at it snjssk, you make us blush so easily that it’s unfair 😭😭

And speaking of writing, you sure have a way with words macaron! Your writing has a poetic take in it, which is something I hope to incorporate into my writing style one day.

@what-a-creative-username --Liana! Chocolate chip! My bro to my bromance, the kuroo to my bokuto, the bread to my shinya! Bro, you are another 100% cutie plus sweetie! I love it when you’re being chaotic along with the rest of them and spam the group with memes and chaotic Youtube vines/vids lmao. Also, the aesthetics you made for us are so pretty ahh! 

Besides that, you’re also really considerate and willing to lend an ear. I still remember when I was anxious and vented to you and you let me rant. Then you reassured me and comforted me, which both calmed me down successfully. Thank you love, I appreciate that gesture very much 🥺 . I miss your presence very much in the server, hope we’ll get to talk again and raise hell all together soon!

@txmxkis --Linds! Cake pop, dearie you’re another kind, loving and sweet soul I have the fortune of meeting in the server. If Ari is the mother, then you’re the cool aunt who’s always wiling to hype us up! And support us when we feel down or need someone to vent to ofc. You’re really chill, easygoing and so adorable! Even though you can be a lil mischief and fluster us on purpose sometimes, not that I’ll ever admit it  Your vibe is rly pretty, and okay...I admit that I like you flustering me...maybe a little bit. 

Honourable mentions! :

@cosmicskin --Lily, my dear love. Honestly you’re the sweetest person I first met on tumblr. Back then when you gave me that shout out, I felt happy, shocked in a good way, and honored all at the same time. And yet, you claim that you are not an angel. Sweetie, you are wrong. You are an angel, even if you claim that you are not. And the way you write? Immaculate, your fluff works have a poetic vibe in them and I’m in love with it. Even though you are no longer writing, I still want to say a very big thank you. Thank you for giving us so many beautiful, gorgeous stunning works. 

@keigos-dove --Eli my sweet! Dear, you are another lovely soul that I’m really fortunate to meet here. I still remember that time when I asked you to proofread a fic of mine and you did, giving me your honest opinion about it 🥺, so thank you very much for that love! Also, you’re really easygoing and I love the way you carry yourself, you’re not only sweet, but also really cool! I love talking to you and the way you write? Absolutely gorgeous. There’s something about your writing that’s just... so pretty and it tugs at my heartstrings! Keep up the good work, gorgeous! 

@seashellsandshores--Emmie dear! Another fellow sweetheart that I have the honor of meeting here. Dearie, you are really chill and easygoing. I like how easy it is to talk to you and rant to you about ons besides bnha lmao, it has been a while but I want to let you know that I enjoy the time I spend with you and hopefully we’ll get to talk again! Also, the fact that you gave me and your fanfic writer friends a shout out on your birthday says that you are not only a sweetheart, but you’re also a really kind and supportive soul 🥺. And boy, your writing? beautiful. Your url complements your writing style perfectly. Your style is simple, but gorgeous and I can easily imagine what is happening in your fics, like I can mentally picture the scene and hear what the characters are saying. Keep up the good work sweetie! 

@birds-have-teeth -- Ashi sweetie! Again, I just want to say a very big welcome back. I hope that you have been resting well during your break sweetheart 🥺. Also, I was caught off-guard when you posted that appreciation post! How dare you do that when I was least expecting it >:c, you have no idea how flustered I felt when I read that ahhhh 🥺. You are such a sweet, supportive, easygoing and loving person, I really love talking to you! And the way you write? IT IS STUNNING, BREATH-TAKING MMM PERFECTION. The flow of words and vocabulary are just so in sync! Immaculate! Also, your art style is really awesome too! I look forward to see more works from you and can’t wait to get back on a regular basis of talking to you again💕

@90s-belladonna -- Aixa! Queen, you’re another one of the coolest, most easygoing people I have ever met! I was kind of awkward when i first talked to you in our dms on twitter, but overtime we got closer and could talk about almost anything! I really love love your laid-back chill vibe, let’s talk more lovely, I enjoy talking to you a lot! Also, have I mentioned how delectable your writing is? Even though most of your works that I’ve read are headcanons, i can say that your writing style is sophisticated yet easy on the eyes. The way you write takes my breath away, I look forward to see more works from you! Keep up the good work <3

@pastelgurlie --Kassy dear, you are really dynamic, funny and outspoken.Thank you for approaching me first on wattpad and dming me, you give off a really fun and cheerful vibe that makes you easy to be around with. Initially,  I was a little stiff and unsure on how to interact with you, but fortunately you were patient and willing to stick around until I came out of my shell ^-^.  Oh, also did I mention how cool your artstyle is? Your style consists of a semi-realistic coupled with elements of anime in it and that’s really awesome! And the way you draw my and Amy’s oc for free? That’s so sweet of you 🥺. 

@adelheidvonschicksal -- Adel my love, you’re another sweet supportive babe I have the fortune of meeting here! You’re really chill, laid-back cool and I feel like a fan living the dream of befriending her idol when I talk to you! You are the very first Shoto blog I came across on Tumblr, and when I first read your works, I fell in love with them. And to have you follow me back, ahh I feel so honored 🥺! And as for your writing style, it is immaculate! I read most of your fics, including the nsfw ones (cough) and they have this beautiful, realistic touch. You characterize the characters rly well and it’s like I can picture what is happening in your works in my head! Keep up the good work, senpai 🥺, I look forward to more amazing works from you.

@lavander-cherry--Cheska! Dear, my second writing senpai for shoto. First I want to say it’s good to have you back! it has been a while since we last talked and tbh, I felt a little sad when I saw your announcement about leaving the bnha writing community, still I do respect your decision back then! And now, I feel really happy that you are back writing for this fandom. Your works are superb, dear! Your characterization is on point and your flow of words complements it very well. Also, I like how you are not afraid to speak your mind and how bold you are, let’s talk again soon!

@shoutodoki --Val! Dear, ahhhh you are another sweetheart that I'm so so fortunate to meet here! You're really easygoing and sweet and it's really easy to talk to you. Your vibe is gorgeous and I cannot stress enough on how much I adore your writings! The flow of words throughout your stories, works and headcanons is just so immaculate and aesthetically pleasing! Even though you have deactivated your acc, I just want to say a very big thank you. Thank you for all of your wonderful works that you have written, you have been a really big inspiration to many writers(including me), I’m sure of that. 

@random-mha-thoughts -- Rachel! Sweetheart, dear I still remembered the way you first helped me back then, we didn’t know each other at all, and yet you were so willing to stand up for and help me! I’m trully grateful for the help you provided so so much. And thank you, also for sticking by me even after that and being such a kind soul after all this while. Let’s continue to be friends sweetie!

As for your writing, it’s simple and sweet. The way you write brings a mellow feeling that’s very pleasant to the viewers, it brings about a fluffy feeling and is easy on the eyes. Look forward to more works from you! Keep up the good work! 

@min-atoo --Minny my sweet! Man, it has been 3 years since we known each other hasn’t it? You’re just the sweetest, super understanding and kindest person ever! I’m really glad to call you one of my closest friends <333. You’re really easy to hang out with and I love the vibe you give off so much! I still remember the moment when we got into a discussion about what todo’s beard color would be on ig lol. It’s really fun hanging out with you, and yoi and chessie ofc. We should get tgt and have a discord grp call sometime! 

Oh, and you have the cutest artstyle ever! The pastel colours you use and the chibi aesthetic you have go perfectly together! All of your works are very easy on the eyes and are super cute! Let’s stay in touch bb x

Make sure to show some love to these lovely ppl that I tagged above by giving them a follow! Oh, I also want to show some love to @dee-madwriter , @dimplesum , @heroprose @kingtamakimurder @love-toxin  @lovelove-dere , @yandere-daydreams, @trafalgar-temptress @wonderwomanfantasy, @combust-catalyst @talpup @shoutogepi and @bnhabadass ! They are some amazing fanfic authors as well so go follow them if you haven’t already :3

Words cannot express how much I love and appreciate every one of you, both my friends I have tagged in this post and my dear followers. I am very thankful for every one of you, let’s work hard together! 

So, what’s next? Since that I am back for now, i will finish off the belated birthday fics I left unfinished for some of my lovely writer friends above, move on to one last request from the last time and finish off some fics of mine. As for when I will re-open requests...they are put on hold until further notice. Oh and I'll be clearing my asks and tags at the same time.

Until then, see y'all soon!

[irwinkitten]

quarantine and chill | poly!lashton

notes: so as some of you may know, i got hit with covid-19. i’d kept socials updated with my symptoms and how i was dealing with it but i’ve been quite on the aftermath of what i went through. so i did what i do best, i wrote. similar with teulu, i decided to write it out in the form of a fic. a lot of what happens is what i’ve had to struggle through with regards to recovery and what i’m still struggling with. there is a lot that i haven’t really talked about with it either, however i got the main points down and just wrote. if i was feeling better, i’d probably have shifted it to an oc but this felt much too personal to do. i was debating on whether or not this was going to be posted. at first i wasn’t, then i wasn’t sure. i finally decided to because i enjoy writing and i enjoy giving people something to read, something to enjoy. i also decided on poly!lashton mostly because of the interview on one of the instagram lives where ash said he cooks and i think it was with @sexgodashton​ where were talking about how ashton would mother hen you when you’re sick lmao and then i got daydreamy because i’ve been dealing with the whole situation alone and it’s difficult when your loved ones (both friends and family) are too far away and unable to be with you. i’m rambling at this point but yeah, tldr; this is really personal on how i recovered from that godforsaken virus. warnings: talks of dying, depression, sickness word count: 9k (oops)

donate to my ko-fi here

-

When you’d come home from closing up the store, it had been an almost nightmarish day for you. It felt surreal that the store was closing until further notice and you had no idea when you were going to even be back in your job again.

What frustrated you was the fact that you hadn’t been able to book a flight out to LA before the travel bans kicked in, leaving you to be self-isolating in your apartment for the duration of the lockdown, alone.

Luke and Ashton had both voiced their complaints, but no amount of money being thrown at the problem wasn’t getting you back to LA with them.

 “How are you feeling?” Ashton asked over facetime whilst you tidied up. The simplicity of living in communal housing meant that you only had two rooms to tidy and keep clean. Luke and Ashton loved it for the fact that it afforded the three of you some privacy away from prying eyes of the media because you were tight-lipped about where you lived.

“Tired. I’ve cried a lot and I’m missing the both of you.” You admitted quietly as Luke popped into the screen, his head resting on Ashton’s shoulder. His lips wore a tired smile, one that you could match.

“We’re missing you too, love.” Luke’s voice was comforting. You finally settled down on the couch, your body sinking into the cushions and sighed.

“You know you don’t have to worry right? Ash and I are gonna help you.” The reassurance from Luke made your lips twitch up.

“I know. I’m just frustrated. They should have made this decision well over a week ago.” 

Neither of them could say much against that. You’d told the company bosses that you were at risk, you’d warned them that the store wouldn’t pull in enough money to warrant staying open for the week.

But they’d simply said that they were following government guidelines. It had been nothing but frustration for the three of you.

“Are you both home finally?” Your question was much quieter and Ashton grimaced. 

“Because I have a cough, they’ve organised us to be quarantined since we’re together. They’ve done the tests but I don’t think it’s anything, I think it’s just allergies playing up since I’ve been sneezing non stop.” Ashton explained and you sighed.

“Irony at its finest.” You received sad smiles in return from your boys.

“I’ve got some last minute paperwork to finish up and send off since I couldn’t do so at the shop. How about I call you both tomorrow?” Luke pouted and you giggled at the expression, your heart lifting that little bit.

“Fine but next time I’m hogging the phone.” Luke muttered and you laughed before blowing them both a kiss.

“Love you both, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

The paperwork was easy to finish off and left you a few hours to shower and change whilst tidying up around. 

When you crawled into bed, you checked your phone to see a photo of the two of them snuggled up together, Ashton practically smothering Luke. You sent them one back of you with the bear they’d gotten you, sprayed in their cologne. 

When you woke up the next day, there was only a slight difference, your blocked nose making you groan. 

“Fucking allergies.” Was muttered as you made your way to the bathroom, waving to one of your neighbours who was just leaving the kitchen.

You’d decided to stock up on food, making quick work of the short walk. It was nice to be able to still move about in the fresh air at least, offering a small, yet nervous smile at the cashier as you paid for your shopping, packed it in your bag and made your way home.

Before you even realised it, you’d settled on the couch and fallen asleep, wrapped up in your fluffy blanket, eyes heavy as you set an alarm. 

You slept through the alarm and when you next woke up, there were three missed facetimes from Luke. You called him back immediately.

“There’s the love of our lives.” Luke crowed when he answered, making you laugh. It was followed by a cough which made Luke pause, his eyes studying the screen. “Said love of our lives doesn’t look too well.” The concern was evident and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s probably allergies and my body finally relaxing from the last three weeks of stress.” Luke didn’t look convinced but you managed to switch the conversation. “Did you find out the results of Ashton’s test?” 

“Yeah, he came up negative. Since we’ve been quarantined for what, three weeks now? We’ll probably be on the next essential flight back home. But that won’t be for another week from what they’ve said. We both agreed to hang back long enough to let other people go ahead.” You frowned at that.

“But baby, you guys need to be back for the launch.” He shook his head.

“Ash was quite forceful with management on this one. There isn't going to be any kind of physical launch so we’re cleared to be delayed, just as long as we have a good wifi connection for the weekend for the various streams.” You sighed but understood their concerns. 

“How is our no longer sick drummer boy?” You finally asked and as if he was waiting for the question, he all but piled himself on top of Luke, a muffled whine escaping as he tried to shove Ashton off him.

You laughed.

“Behave children otherwise no rewards.” You teased them, making the two of them laugh as they settled themselves  down on the sofa they were on.

The conversation was easy between the three of you as they both excitedly discussed the possible plans they had for the album release, relying on them being home on time to do so.

“It wouldn’t do well to be still in the air when we do the release party, but knowing our luck...” Ashton trailed off, making you snort.

“Knowing our luck, that’s what would happen.” You grinned and he rolled his eyes.

“Probably.” 

The three of you talked until you were dropping off, and despite voicing their concerns, you waved them off, pointing out that you always got like this during allergy season. Ashton didn’t argue the point, but Luke still frowned in concern.

“We love you, sunshine. Get some decent rest please.” He’d pleaded with you and you gave them both a gentle smile in return, hoping that it was at least semi-reassuring.

“I’ll be fine, but I’ll go to bed. Love you two.” 

“Love you more.” Came the unified response before the call dropped and you settled back asleep.

Part of you knew that you should’ve realised that they had every right to be concerned when you woke up the following morning.

Your entire body was aching. And what concerned you most was the tightness across your chest coupled with the pain radiating across your body.

When you checked your temperature, you felt your stomach sink at the fact that your fever had crept up and was alarmingly high. So you called the helpline, putting the phone on speaker whilst you waited to get through, sending a text to the group chat you had with your boyfriends.

‘Woke up with fever and body hurts. Struggling to breath too so checking in with the helpline to see what i need to do. Don’t know if I’m gonna be up for calling later bc I wanna sleep.’ 

You felt bad but you could already feel the drowsiness pull at your body. 

When you got through and described your symptoms, the lady on the other end advised you to self-isolate and upon the symptoms getting worse, to call the emergency services.

You relayed the information back to Luke and Ashton before falling asleep after taking some medication, trying to desperately ignore how much your body ached as you slept.

The first few days, it felt like you’d been run over with a truck repeatedly, but what concerned you was the pain that was radiating from your kidneys. Both Luke and Ashton knew of your previous history with kidney failure and both had been urging you to go into the hospital, but you’d couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t that bad.

By day four, both of your boyfriends were worried because you’d mentioned to them that you were unable to breath properly. It was late at night, but with the pain reaching an overwhelming point, you knew it was pointless to argue. Even your friends had been urging you to contact the helpline once more.

You’d been on hold for over an hour as the pain got worse. You were struggling to focus and it was everything you could do to try and breathe through the agony that was radiating through your body, so you cut off from the hold music and contacted the emergency services. 

This time fear started to settle into your stomach as you answered the questions posed to you, trying to get across that it wasn’t a block of flats but a shared home.

The operator understood and urged you to get help from your neighbours to at least let the crew into the building. You were nervous enough about standing up by yourself but you managed.

When you stood from your bed, the walk to the door, even though it was five steps away, the agony that shot up your legs had you stumbling into the door. 

Pulling it open, despite your neighbour’s door being six feet away, you knew you weren’t going to be able to stumble that far. The pain was steadily getting worse and tears started falling down your cheeks.

“Can someone help?” You finally got out, gasping for a breath once the words were out. Your neighbour was quick to open the door and knew something was wrong.

“What’s happened, are you okay?” 

“Can’t breathe. Called medics, but need someone to let them in.” You gasped out and he nodded, taking a step closer.

“Lets sit you down and I’ll get one of the others to go and wait for them.” The firm grip on your arms supported you, your own hands grasping his arms to keep you from falling as he slowly walked you back to the edge of your bed, setting you down gently.

The pain receded slightly.

“I’m gonna prop the door open and get one of the others to come and give me a hand, is that okay?” And you could only nod tearfully as you tried to take in slow breaths, despite the pain that was radiating from your chest.

With the door propped open, you could hear him banging on the other doors, calling for help and explaining the situation. The hallway wasn’t very long but their voices carried down to you as you tried, and failed, to calm down.

And then the medics were there, pulling the blanket from your shoulders despite how cold you were feeling.

“It’s because of the fever, your body is already warm, you won’t be helping yourself with the blankets.” 

They asked various questions and you tried to answer in the gasping breaths, but then the pain shot up and it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Okay, we’re getting you to the hospital.” 

You could barely move, but between the medic and your neighbour, they managed to get the things you needed and help you down the stairs. It took much longer, but you knew that rushing wasn’t going to help and the pain was pushing close to hitting 10 for you. 

Once in the ambulance, you had a cannula inserted, laughing breathlessly between your tears at the first failed attempt and the second attempt to find a vein. 

When you reached the hospital, waiting to hear where you needed to be taken, you finally got out your phone, the morphine hindering your ability to focus, hitting the audio button instead to send a voice note to your now worried boyfriends.

“At the hospital. Been given some morphine but still hurts. Missing you and love you lots.” You could barely keep your eyes open, the words slurring together. The medic gave you a kind smile.

“Partner?” You nodded, the motion making you feel nauseous. 

“Need to drive to the other side, they’ve got a specific ward set up.” You heard and realised belatedly that the driver must have turned up. The drive was short and finally you were helped from the vehicle into a waiting wheelchair. You were too tired to protest and you knew it would be quicker for you to get situated.

You could hear them talking, explaining your medical history and the symptoms you were displaying. Part of your mind was listening but the other part of your mind was wondering how Ashton and Luke were. 

You missed them.

Once in a room, the nurses took over and did some more tests. Eventually you were left alone, your fever creeping higher despite the fact that you felt so cold. You were tired, but the pain that was radiating from your kidneys and joints, it was enough to keep you awake, unable to relax to sleep. 

Your phone was going off every few minutes, various people messaging you, making sure that you were okay. The only ones you were really replying to were Luke and Ashton, but even then it was sparse. 

It didn’t stop them from worrying.

When the doctor on shift came into your bare room, it took every effort to focus on her words.

“We’ve taken some bloods to help rule out any other possibilities, despite displaying symptoms of the virus. When we have the first results of your bloods back, we’ll be moving you onto one of the wards, so it should be another hour or so.” 

You nodded your head, eyes heavy as you let out a tired sigh.

“Any idea of how long I’ll be here for?” Despite the mask in place, you could see her cheeks lifting up into what you assumed was a smile.

“Less than 24 hours, I’d assume. Try to get some rest, another nurse will be taking some obs in about an hour, before you need to be moved hopefully.” You nodded tiredly, curling up on your side. It seemed to be the only relief you could find.

You drifted in and out, the stark quietness of your room so different to the usual noises you had of cars passing by or Ashton and Luke’s steady breathing.

 When the nurse came back in, you were beyond exhausted. You felt nauseous and the pain wasn’t receding. 

“We’re going to be moving you instead, they’ll do all the obs that they need once you’re settled in the room. I’m just waiting on the porters.” You nodded tiredly as she unplugged your phone charger and placed your bag at the bottom of the bed.

You kept your face turned into the pillow, the lights hurting your eyes. 

“Sensitive to the light?” Came a kind voice, you could only let out a muffled noise of agreement. When you were wheeled into the room, the light was dimmed down and you felt more relaxed. 

Glancing at the time you hadn’t realised it’d been so long. The numbers read 7am and you could feel your body shaking, your mind taking a minute to catch up with the fact that you were cold.

The next few hours were difficult. You went from being too hot to freezing cold, the pain creeping up as you tried to curl in on yourself to warm up. Even with additional blankets, you were still shaking, teeth chattering when you tried to talk.

When they took the second round of bloods, you didn’t offer any argument, simply holding out your arm for them to take the blood from. Things were getting hazy and you couldn’t focus on the nurse as he spoke to you about what was going to happen. 

You knew some of it was tiredness. Despite the mini naps you were having, you hadn’t slept solidly in nearly 48 hours. 

“We’re going to be coming in to do the test in a moment.” You found yourself confused as a different nurse explained what was going to happen and she took her time to make sure you understood each part. 

Once it was done, your cough having flared up after having the swab hit the back of your throat you noticed that you had missed calls.

‘How did I not hear them?’ You thought to yourself, confused. You clicked on the notification and realised it was Luke that had been calling.

“Hi angel, we were just checking in.” His voice seemed to set off the tears, unable to understand why you were so tearful. But he heard the sniffle. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this. You know we’re here for you.” 

“I just wanna be home with you two.” You choked out, a cough escaping, the motion making you feel sick. 

“I know angel, what have the doctors said?” You tried to steady your breathing so you wouldn’t set your coughing off again. 

“Two weeks self quarantine.” You finally got out, wiping a few stray tears away. You heard the two of them sigh in unison. 

“Maybe we could—”

“Ash no. If they are sick with the virus, it’s likely to just pass between the three of us.” Luke interrupted and you had to hold back the sob. 

“I’m scared.” You finally admitted quietly and tried to stop the sob that was crawling up your throat. You knew that if you’d started, you were most likely not going to stop. 

“Baby.” Ashton whispered and you sucked in a deep breath, determined not to ask the question. 

“Lu’s right. It’d just pass between the three of us. I should have maybe another week of symptoms.” Your voice was quiet but they heard you. 

“We’re not going home.” Luke’s voice finally filtered through. “Not with you being in hospital and not with you being so sick. We’re staying in a hotel till your symptoms die down and then we’re gonna come and look after you.” 

You couldn’t even argue with them. They were both as stubborn as mules and having them would make the recovery easier with some help. 

“How are you gonna get here?” You finally gasped out. 

“We’ve got a rented car. We extended it the day you got sick.” You felt your heart warm at their words.

“Okay.” You finally muttered. 

Eventually you were discharged with medication for the fever and a reminder to keep your fluid intake up at least. 

The journey back was exhausting. 

The medic was kind enough to chat to you about your job, about Luke and Ashton. He didn’t bat an eyelash when you mentioned them both. He was quick to help you figure out where the turning was, especially in the dark. And he helped you to the door of the building. 

Just the journey up the stairs was tiring, and your neighbours heard you arrive, the three of them checking that you were okay. 

“Until my breathing gets worse, I can self manage at home. However, I need rest and my body currently feels like I’ve been run over multiple times.” 

One of them checked about collecting your food shop the following morning and you smiled in return before getting into your bedroom and collapsing on the bed. 

You made sure that your phone charger was plugged in before sending a text to Luke and Ashton saying you were home. It was barely another five minutes before you fell into a fitful sleep. 

The following day you were woken to a knock on your door, but you could barely move. Sleep had been scarce and your joints felt so heavy. 

“Don’t try and get up! Just letting you know that I’m off to get your shopping! I should be back in an hour or so.” Your neighbour called through the door and you felt a little bit of relief flood you at that. 

“Thanks!” You called back before coughing, twisting sharply to the side where the bowl lay, your body aching when the coughing stopped.

You’d had the bowl lay there since the night before you’d gone into hospital, terrified that the coughing would lead you to throwing up. You weren’t good with vomit at the best of times but this was another level. 

Collapsing onto your back, taking in slow deep breaths as you tried to calm your heart down, you took a few moments before taking some meds, pulling the covers off your body to help you cool down. This was the one thing about fever that wasn’t fun for you.

You ended up napping on and off, unable to pay attention to your phone at the various texts coming through from concerned friends before there was another knock on the door which jolted you awake, despite feeling disorientated.

“I’m leaving the bags just outside your doors! Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll have them all up.” You didn’t reply as you heard the hallway door shut, and instead slowly moved to collect one of the face masks you’d been given, slipping it on with ease before grabbing disinfectant wipes. 

You ignored the dizziness that caught you off guard, taking a steadying breath as you waited, leaning heavily against the door.

“Right, they’re all there for you chicken!” Your neighbours voice was more distant and you hesitantly opened the door. He was standing halfway down the hallway, a kind smile on his face.

“How are you feeling today?” The concern was genuine and you could only shrug.

“A lot of pain. Not sleeping well.” You got out breathlessly. He frowned.

“Well if you need anything, you’ve got my number now, so just give me a text, especially if you need any drinks. You take care of yourself now.” You lifted your hand in acknowledgement before propping open the living room door and heading in there where your fridge sat.

When the food was put away, you were half staggering the few steps back to your bed, barely getting your mask off and on your desk before you half collapsed on your bed.

Glancing at your phone there was a missed call from Ashton.

“Hi love, you weren’t responding so we figured to call you.” His voice was hesitant when you’d accepted the call.

“Everything hurts Ash.” You finally sobbed, your body protesting the movement, but in that moment you couldn’t care. You missed them both and with the combined pain, it didn’t help.

“Baby.” Luke’s voice was soft and you knew they were worried, but you were too far gone to understand their worries. You just wanted them.

“Want you both, and can’t even have that because of this fucking virus.” You got out a cough ending the sentence as you tried to catch your breath and not choke.

“Calming breaths sweetheart. You’re okay.” Ashton soothed immediately and you tried to follow his instructions. But everything hurt. There was a sharp pain in your chest, coupled with the pain in your lower back as well as the joint aches. It practically burned you.

“Do you think you can manage a shower later, love? It might help.” Luke’s voice was hesitant once you were calm enough and you took in a deep breath.

“Maybe.” You got out, your voice quieter and they knew you were tired.

“Rest for a bit angel, see if you can try and get a few hours at least.” Ashton encouraged and you could feel the heaviness wash over you as you settled down.

“Love you both.” You tiredly got out before you let yourself sink into sleep, taking a slow deep breath as you did.

You didn’t hear their returned words or them cutting the call, you’d fallen asleep easily and your body relaxed just a little bit as you slept.

When you next woke up, it was dark. Making sure that you were at least drinking, you had another glass of juice followed by some water before pulling yourself up to take a shower. You texted them both and your best friend to let them know you’d slept some and you were about to attempt a shower.

It was slow going, trying to keep yourself upright, but the steam helped clear your sinuses, making sure you got every part of you with the scrubber before just standing under the shower, your hands pressed into the cold tiles to keep you upright. 

It’d been thirty minutes by the time you’d returned to your room, feeling more tired than when you’d first woken, so you took the opportunity to try and get more sleep. 

That was when the coughing became so violent at two in the morning that you felt like you were practically choking on air, unable to catch a breath until you’d rolled onto your side and something cleared enough for you to take a gasping breath, your heart racing so fast that you had to call your best friend to calm down.

It became frightening as days began to pass and you could barely recall them, your mind confused and muddled with exhaustion mixed in with the hunger that was plaguing you. But when you’d eaten, your body had rejected the food immediately so you didn’t try again. 

By day ten, you were struggling. You’d cried far too much and your body felt like lead. You knew that both Luke and Ashton were concerned at this point, knowing that this was the point where either you’d start to get better or it could get worse.

Two days later, between fitful nap and gasping breaths after a coughing fit, your phone went off.

It was Ashton.

“Baby?” You got out tiredly, keeping measured breaths as you sat up slowly.

“Take a look outside your bedroom window.” You frowned, moving to the otherside of the room, leaning enough to peer out of your open window before a sob escaped.

They both stood there, arms laden with bags. Both were looking up at you.

“Reckon you can come let us in angel? Lu and I are gonna commandeer your living room ‘till you’re better.” It took everything in you not to go racing down the stairs. You knew it would set you back further so you took hesitant breaths before looking back to your phone then you heard a voice in the hallway.

You were quick enough to catch your neighbour as he was heading back to his room.

“You alright there petal?” His voice was concerned and you held your hand up indicating you needed a moment to catch your breath. He waited patiently.

“My, my partners, they’re downstairs with some shopping and taking over my living room till I’m better. Could you let them in for me please?” You were hesitant in asking, but the pleading eyes you had seemed to have his shoulders wilt as he took a step forward.

“I take it they’re gonna be self-isolating for the two weeks they need to?” You nodded. 

“I’ve got to wait seven days after my fever stops as it is before I can even be in the same room as them. I know that they’re worried and being so far hasn’t really helped.” He smiled kindly.

“Got you, petal. Get back in and I’ll go get them for you.” 

You could hear their voices get closer and it took everything in you not to throw yourself out of the room at them. You didn’t want them to get sick.

“Delivered safely petal, feel better soon.” Your neighbour called and you tried not to let out a sob.

“Hi angel.” It took everything in you not to open the door. You had to clench your hands into a fist, head resting on the door.

“I don’t know what’s harder. You both being away, or you being so close but I can’t even see you.” You let out a choked cough and Luke let out a soothing noise.

“Well we’ve got you some good wifi now, and we’re here for you angel. We’ve got a couple of streams and you best be watching when we go live.” You let out a breathless giggle. They were there.

The first few days were the hardest. They’d leave cartons of juice and bottles of water outside your door. It finally added to fruit when you managed to keep an orange down.

Watching them do the streams from your living room was strange, but it seemed to settle your anxiety that they were so close. You could see it was being brought up about their shared change of scenery which prompted them to explain after you’d texted Ashton and told him that it was okay for them to know about your situation.

“So our partner, well they got pretty sick at the start of last week. We were already stuck in the UK at this point, so we just extended it so that we’d be with them when they got better. None of us handle being sick alone very well.” This made the other three laugh. You grinned.

“I think that extends to the rest of the band too.” Luke piped up, making the other two complain loudly. You giggled before coughing violently.

“Oops. As you can probably hear, it got real bad and real close by the end of last week. It’s why we were so distracted on the live because we were so worried. When they told us that they’d slept for a solid six hours last night, we made the drive back to theirs, shopping in tow to help look after them. We can’t see them, and Luke and I are stuck on the couch for the next two weeks at least, but we couldn’t just fly out and leave them alone.” 

Ashton’s explanation had well wishes pouring in for you and it warmed your heart to see that there were fans that cared. 

Part of you wished you could at least be watching them, or better yet, be cuddled up with them, to hell with the stream. But you knew they were trying to keep the focus on the album. You’d already had texts from the others to check in with you and you took your time to reply to them and settle down, your eyes heavy as you snuggled under the covers.

It was nice to watch them, seeing the ease in the way they joked about. You knew they worried but it was obvious to anyone who saw them when you’d gone into hospital that the tension that was sat on the both of them was both obvious and heartbreaking. 

You could see the shadows under Luke’s eyes and you wondered if they traded the nights between each other to make sure they wouldn’t miss an update or a call. 

You tried to squash down the guilt instant that reared up. They were doing this because they cared. There was nothing in it for them, apart from the possibility of you getting better. But you knew they expected nothing back. 

Your eyes were tired and you took in the time. It was creeping closer to midnight so you closed off the stream and texted the chat to let them both know you were going to sleep. Had you stayed on the stream a few moments longer, you’d have seen Ashton’s face relax as a gentle smile crept onto his lips, causing the two that were still stateside to tease him. 

The following morning was better in some way but also worse. Your cough wasn’t easing up but your fever seemed to have broken in the night. 

You weren’t overheating but you weren’t cold either. You took a few moments to move your limbs and regretted it almost instantly. But you knew that if your fever stayed down, it would be a further week until you weren’t contagious. 

Part of you wanted to practically sing in joy, but as you took in the early morning, you decided against that, knowing your men would be fast asleep still. 

Slowly you got yourself up, collecting your shower stuff before making your way down the hallway to the shower. The warm water felt almost luxurious on your skin as you took care in washing your hair, still leaning against the cold tiles to keep yourself upright, your legs trembling as you did so. 

It took the same amount of time as the previous shower, but once you were clean, you knew it made a small amount of difference as you stumbled back to your room, crawling under the covers to take a well deserved nap. 

You missed the text from Luke asking if you were awake. 

Now that you seemed to be stomaching food, Ashton kept it simple with dry toast, not willing to push your body too far. And you agreed with his judgement after he’d placed it in front of your door and you waited for the other door to close before you opened yours. 

“Love you.” You felt your heart melt as he spoke through the door. 

“Love you too Ash. Thank you.” You returned quietly before stepping back into your room. It was getting harder to stay in, especially when your cuddle monsters of boyfriends were just in the next room. 

It hurt. 

They FaceTimed with you to keep you company, both of them making a strong effort to not only keep you company but to also stop you from giving into temptation to just join them. 

Ashton was practically insistent on that. 

You knew by the time that you would be allowed to have them back in your room, their own self isolation would be over. 

It didn’t fail to amuse you how Ashton started cooking once you started being able to stomach more than dry toast. It took a few goes but he kept it plain enough to not make your stomach complain but changed it up so you didn’t get bored of it. 

What made it even better were the small notes of affection they left for you on the tray which held your food. You had them pinned up to your cork board without a second though, the small pieces of heaven from them only making it feel that much cosier. 

Something to ward away the bad days in the future. 

Luke snuck you some of your favourite snacks, even after the scolding Ashton gave him when he tried sneaking you a chocolate bar. 

It’d made you giggle and they’d both paused to hear it. 

It was a sound they hadn’t heard in nearly a month and it made their hearts soar. 

Despite the pain you were in, it felt like you could at least breathe with the both of them with you. Even if you couldn’t see them. 

By day nine after your fever had broken, you were beginning to feel semi human once more. You still had issues with exhaustion and light sensitivity, but you certainly felt more better than you had done in weeks. 

Luke had given up on waiting. 

“Ash, they said a week after the fever went down, they’d no longer be contagious. This is killing me.” You’d chosen to curl up on the side that was proclaimed as Luke’s side. 

Your heart was feeling heavy again. 

“I mean. We’re what? A week and a half?” Ashton’s voice was hesitant. You missed the mutter in return before the door opened and there was a knock on your door. 

Luke stuck his head in and you wanted to cry. 

“Reckon you can put up with some self care cuddles?” You simply nodded your head and shuffled into the middle of the bed. Luke wasted no time, his arms wrapped around you and you could feel every part of you seemingly shaking. 

Ashton followed a few minutes later and your memory seemed to fail you in that moment. You could barely remember the last six weeks, but the feeling of comfort was something entirely different as they held you. 

That was when you began to sob in earnest because you’d missed them. And they knew it. 

When you’d calmed down, part of you felt torn because you wanted to hold them both, not let go and just lay there. But they didn’t protest when you’d snuggle up to one, legs tangled and arms wrapped around tight and eventually switch to the other. 

If anything, it amused them both. 

As the day got later, Ashton untangled himself, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Luke was your current cuddle buddy of choice. 

Turning your head, your confusion must have shown because Ashton smiled gently. 

“We need to keep up with the meals, love. I’m gonna make some soup for all of us, how does that sound?” You hummed in agreement. 

“It’s allowed I guess. But you gotta come back.” And he chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead, doing the same to Luke before disappearing out of your room. 

“You realise that he’s going to mother hen you to death, right?” Luke teased and you shrugged. 

“He’s here. You both are. That’s more than enough for me.” You murmured softly. Luke held you that little bit tighter.

“You up for a shower sweetheart?” You hesitated, your mind drifting back to the previous two times you showered. The hesitation must have been obvious because Luke pressed a kiss to the top of your head, not willing to push you.

“Will you, will you help? It’ll be a tight fit but, I struggled the last two times.” You finally admitted to him and he smiled. 

“C’mon. We can let the chef know as we pass him.” You giggled at his words, allowing him to help you out of the bed and making your way slowly across the room. Luke didn’t push, but he kept his arms available and easy for you to grab if you needed him.

You’d made it to the kitchen before you relied on him a bit more, your joints achy and your legs shaking. 

“Gonna get this one showered and clean.” Luke called into the kitchen where Ashton was cooking. He glanced back and grinned at you both before turning back to the food and you two carried on. 

Luke was nothing but patient with you as you climbed into the shower, his tall body fitting into the rest of the space. He was gentle as he helped you and it took the pressure off you, focusing on keeping yourself upright as his hands started working the shampoo into your hair.

You’d forgotten how well he massaged your scalp when washing your hair, and you only protested when he rinsed it out, making him laugh.

“I forgot how nice your head massages were.” You groaned as he worked the conditioner in. You carefully washed your body with the shower gel, cleaning Luke’s body whilst you were at it. 

He tried to stop you but you gave him pleading eyes and he relented easily. Using the time whilst your hair was soaking in the conditioner to wash his own hair quickly whilst you cleaned his body.

And then his fingers were back in your hair, cleaning out the conditioner and you had to stop yourself from leaning into him.

Once you were clean and dried off, dressed and the towels over Luke’s shoulder, you could feel yourself begin to flag again, leaning heavily on Luke for the short trip back to your room.

“I’ve got you sweet.” He murmured as you passed the kitchen. Ashton was talking with one of your neighbours who gave you a small wave but didn’t stop you to talk. Part of you felt guilty, but the larger part felt relieved because you were almost certain once you’d eaten something, you were going to be asleep.

Once you were back in your bedroom, you scooted so that your back was resting against the headboard whilst Luke let the towels hang so that they could dry and put everything back in its place. He understood your need for everything in its own place, whilst Ashton understood, but still sometimes made a small game of moving things to see if you’d notice.

Luke could see that you were too tired to even be playful.

When Ashton returned, he frowned for a moment before resting the first bowl on your lap, spoon already in the bowl.

“Don’t worry about eating it all. Just try to eat something for us.” He encouraged gently, handing Luke his own bowl before heading back to retrieve his own.

You were slow and methodical before your stomach protested and you left the spoon in the bowl, your head resting on Luke’s shoulder.

“M’ready for sleep.” You muttered and he hummed in acknowledgement. He’d long since finished his bowl, as had Ashton.

“You alright with Ash for a bit, love? Since he cooked, I’ll clean.” Luke murmured and you just nodded before shuffling till you were laid down. Ashton followed and you snuggled into him. 

You barely heard his murmured “sleep well” before you were fast asleep.

It was the first night that you’d slept for eight hours and it felt almost refreshing, especially after having the shower the previous night.

You were still nestled into Ashton’s side, Luke’s arm was slung over you both, his hand resting on Ashton’s stomach. You felt very safe between your men and you were so grateful that they were with you in that moment.

It was another hour before either of them stirred, but you’d been resting in that hour, not really awake but not asleep either. Luke was first to move, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he moved off the bed.

“Morning, love. How are you feeling today?” He murmured as he stretched. You shifted onto your back and gave an experimental test of your joints. They weren’t so bad and your cough had eased up that your chest no longer hurt if there was the occasional cough.

“Better, I think. It’s only a dull ache, the kind I get when you two put me through the paces at the gym.” You admitted softly and Luke grinned as Ashton stretched out, almost like a cat before turning on his side to face you.

“Nice to hear that, angel. And good morning.” You grinned at him and kissed him gently before glancing at the time. 

“What are we doing today?” You asked quietly as Luke continued to stretch out his muscles. Part of you felt bad for them both to be stuck inside with you, but you were much too selfish to let that bad feeling linger. 

“I’m gonna do some exercises and then Ash is probably gonna do his own. And then a movie day for the rest of the day?” He posed the question and you paused before nodding your head. It sounded good to you and it meant you had some individual time with each of them.

The morning passed by easily. They did their exercises and showered before returning to your room that Luke had playfully dubbed ‘The Den’. Ashton had laughed at that as he went to set up in the living room for another live, but this time Luke was staying with you. They’d been trading off which had bothered you first, but then Ashton explained their reason.

“We don’t really want to leave you alone. Not that you can’t take care of yourself,” he hastily added on upon seeing your look of outrage, “but being so far away whilst you were so ill, it kinda scared us. We don’t want to leave you by yourself yet. It’s more to ease our own anxieties.” And you relaxed before shoving any negative thoughts to the back of your mind.

Luke was napping when your phone went off-Ashton was still on the live-and you answered the No Caller ID hesitantly. 

It was the hospital that you were at, a nurse confirming who you were before she’d go any further. It took a few moments before she got to the point of the phone call.

“So we’re calling you about the various tests. I’m assuming that you know you were confirmed with COVID-19, correct?”

“Yeah, about two days after the test, someone called to let me know.” You responded hesitantly. You wondered what this was about.

“And how are you feeling?” You were confused.

“I mean, I’m coming up to two weeks of no fever and starting to feel a lot better. I’m just more exhausted but I suspect that’s because of what my body went through.” You explained quietly and you heard her hum in agreement. Luke shifted beside you and you noticed that he was  awake, only because his hand had started to drift up and down your spine.

“That’s good to hear. What I’m calling about is that you’d said your kidneys had been hurting upon admittance, correct?” 

“Yes.” You were worried now.

“So when we looked at the numbers, we noticed that they’d started dropping. Not drastically enough for us to have you in intensive care, but that was why we moved you to the ward. It was as a precaution.” You felt your heart race at her words.

“They’d started failing again, hadn’t they?” You whispered and she sighed.

“Yes. However, because the numbers were back on the rise when we took your second blood test, we felt that we could discharge you safely. Had they dropped further, you’d have been admitted to intensive care. The only reason why you weren’t told immediately was because we didn’t want you to panic or go into further distress which could’ve made it much more worse.” 

It hit you like a ton of bricks what she was saying. 

“Is there anything I need to worry about?” You finally choked out, your hands trembling.

“At this time, no. When things ease up, we will request you get another test just to confirm you’re clear of the virus. Otherwise for now, just rest up and feel better soon.” 

“Thank you.” You got out, ending the call. Luke took the phone from your trembling hands and he sat up, pulling you onto his lap, his arms around you.

“What happened, love?” You were trying to take in slow deep breaths to stop the panic attack, knowing that it wouldn’t help you.

“They’ve just told me, when I went into hospital, my kidneys were failing.” You whispered and his arms tightened around you tighten enough that he understood the implications.

You’d told them both of the previous two times when you’d been so ill that your kidneys had started failing and as a result you’d been on death's door. 

You didn’t realise you were hyperventilating until Luke began to rub his hands up and down your arms to try and distract you, but your mind was too focused on the fact that you’d escaped death, again.

“Ashton!” Luke called loudly, a tinge of panic in his own voice.

Ashton practically crashed through into your door and his face was ashen as he took in your state, a look of relief followed by concern filling his features. He clambered onto the bed, his hands cupping your face gently. When you didn’t flinch away, he ducked his head to catch your eyes.

“Slow deep breaths sweetheart. We’ve got you.” It took you a while before you could finally focus on Luke’s hands which were still rubbing your arms gently.

“How’s your sense of smell?” Ashton teased as he noted that you were fighting to keep your breathing under control.

“Smell you and Luke, favourite smell.” You muttered and he grinned. You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch and he let his thumb brush across your cheeks in comfort.

“What happened?” Despite the question being directed at you, you knew that Ashton was also asking Luke.

“A nurse from the hospital phoned I think. They explained about the blood tests they’d run. Apparently their kidneys were failing when they’d gone in, but not enough to alarm the hospital staff or get them rushed to intensive care.” His voice was calm and you needed that. 

You knew that Ashton understood what he wasn’t saying, but also you weren’t too sure if you could voice it properly without crying.

“Come here sweetheart.” Ashton’s tone brokered no arguments and you moved so that you were cradled in his lap, his back resting against the headboard. Luke was nestled as close as possible.

“Part of me knew something was wrong, but, not that.” You whispered finally. Ashton made a soothing sound as you let your head rest on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck.

“It’s one thing to guess, it’s another thing to be told, love. You’re allowed to cry because it’s a frightening thing to be told.” His voice was one of reason and you finally let it out, allowing them both to comfort you as you processed what had been said.

He wasn’t wrong. It was one thing to guess, but to be told that your kidneys had started failing once more, it was frightening.

Neither of them moved away from you as you got it off your chest. You couldn’t pin how long had passed until you finally took a steadying breath, lifting your head from Ashton’s neck. Luke was first to move, his thumb wiping the tear tracks and you gave him a weak smile.

It dawned on you then that Ashton had been on a live.

“Ash, I’m sorry.” You finally whispered and he gave you a confused look.

“What are you sorry for? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“The live you were doing...” You trailed off and he shrugged.

“They’ll get over it. You’re more important and we’re doing more radio interviews on the live so it doesn’t matter.” He muttered and you didn’t push, relaxing in his hold. Luke glanced at the clock and gave you a gentle smile.

“My turn to make lunch. Nothing cooked unfortunately, but I make a damn good sandwich.” He teased playfully which made you giggle, a sigh escaping your lips as he left after giving you both gentle kisses.

“Just think, tomorrow we can take you out for a short walk.” 

“Freedom.” You muttered deadpan, making him laugh as his lips found yours.

“Even for half an hour, it’ll help. Home stretch now.” You mustered up a smile for him before stretching your legs out and he moved with you, his arms not quite leaving your body.

“Am I not allowed to lie down?” You queried and he shook his head, a playful grin on his lips as he pulled you flush against his body, his lips finding your neck.

“No, all mine to have and feast on.” The cackle like laugh that he let off had you giggling as he blew a raspberry on your skin. This earned a squeal from you, laughing as he rocked you back and forth. “No one can take you from me!” 

You were still laughing when Luke returned with three plates, an amused grin on his lips as he raised an eyebrow.

“Save me Lu! Ash is gonna feast on me!” You shrieked again as he blew another raspberry into your neck, the ticklish sensation making you laugh as he held you tightly. 

Luke set the plates down before climbing on the bed, his lips curving into a smirk, making you pause.

“Can I feast with you Ash?” And you groaned as Ashton laughed as Luke straddled the both of you, his body causing the three of you to fall back onto the bed, effectively trapping you between the two of them as Luke left gentle kisses along your neck and you held back your moan, knowing that if he started to pull at the skin you were a goner.

Pulling back, he had a cheeky grin on his lips and you groaned as Ashton laughed.

“You two are the worst. Let me eat, you monsters!” You cried out playfully, making them both laugh as Luke shifted himself off you to get the plates once more and Ashton loosened his hold on your waist.

The rest of the day passed quietly, Ashton had apologised for having to ditch and the three of you settled watching movies long into the early hours of the morning.

Despite the lack of sleep, you were still up early excited that you were finally allowed to go for a walk today, and both of them laughed at your excitement.

Once you were dressed, they followed your lead and got ready. And then you were out of the building and the fresh air felt glorious, even if there was a spattering of rain. You didn’t care.

You led them both to a small pathway that led to the river that ran through the town, the edge of the river filled with cherry blossom trees. Both of them were taking as many photos as they could and you couldn’t hide your smile if you tried. 

Ashton managed to get a nice selfie of the three of you under one of the trees and before long, you realised that the half an hour had gone by and you were beginning to struggle, your legs becoming a little bit shaky. 

But it didn’t deter from the fact that you’d been able to go out for a walk and enjoy it. Both Luke and Ashton could see the immediate difference.

“We’ll go out every day and stay an extra five minutes longer. Build you up. How does that sound?” Ashton asked as you walked up the driveway, arm in arm with the both of them.

“That sounds good. Onwards and upwards from here and I am so going to kick your butts at Mario Kart now.”  

Their laughter rang around the empty drive as you reached the building and you felt much more positive with them by your sides.

-

if you wanna be added to my taglist just hmu!! 

@sexgodashton​​​, @goth5sos​​​, @calumsmermaid​​​, @empathycth​​​, @wildflowergrae​​​, @calpops​​​, @rosecolouredash​​​, @cal-puddies​​​, @clockwork124​​​, @loveroflrh​​​, @stellar5sosrecs​​, @ashtoniwir​​, @cthla​​, @liketheydidwithyou​​, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer​​, @bluehairedtracii​​, @drummerboy794​​, @feliznavidaddycal​​, @ukulelecal​​, @wokeupinjapanisabop​​, @converse-luke​​, @madbomb​​, @ccnicole02​​ @youngblood199456​​, @megz1985​​, @lukesidentitycrisis​​, @snapback-irwie​​, @neonweeknds​​, @666yourwitchyfriend666​​, @cherrycolamike​​, @cashtonasfuck​​, @ashtaway​​, @conquerwhatliesahead92​​, @itjustkindahappenedreally​​, @kchillout​​, @damselindistressanu​​, @colormekaykay​​, @findingliam-o​​, @sublimehood​​, @sugarcoated-pain​​, @singt0mecalum​​, @singledadharrington​​, @calumspeachy​​, @colourfulcalum​​, @lostincalum​​, @burncrashbromance​​, @asht0ns-world​​, @flusteredcliffo​​, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​​, @fangirl-everythang​​, @lashtondaddies​​, @calumssunshine​​, @ambskiwi​​, @abundant-stars​​, @myescapefromthislife​​, @lmao5sosimagines​​, @beyoncesdragon​​, @jae-writes-fanfiction​​, @cxddlyash​​, @tresfandom​​, @utterly-u-n-p-e-r-f-e-c-t​​, @niallisworld​​, @lietomevalntyn​​, @babylon-corgis​​, @monochrome44​​, @behind-my-hazeleyes27​​, @ghost0fy0u​​, @lyllibug​​, @bloodmoonashton​, @ghostofmashton​, @summerellaz​, @a-little-less-sixteen​, @cashworthy​, @smokeinherlungs​, @longlastingdaydream​, @h0tsos​, @sweetcherrymike​, @5sosnsfw​, @sugar-nico​, @angel-cal​​, @samros95​​, @maluminspace​​, @lukeinblue​​, @cakesunflower​​, @allamerican-betch​​, @britnicole11​​, @gigglyirwin​​, @loverofcashton​​, @iovehemmings​​, @g-l-pierce​​, @jannimoeller3​​, @wildmichaelflower​​, @lukeskisses​​, @5sossstan​​, @youngbloodchild​​, @abb-lan-5sos​​, @calumsbub​​, @flameraine​​, @here-for-the-uproars​​, @mateisit-balsamic​​, @ilovelukey​​, @goldenmndes​​, @musiclover1263​​, @alloutofcashton​​, @tobefalling​​, @sarahshepherdblog​​, @cassie-sos​​, @banditocth​​, @cthwldflwr​,

if you’ve been removed from my taglist it’s because i couldn’t tag you!! 

[galaxyghost4081]

To Timpani

(Description is from the AO3 version, which is right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675729)

(Inspired by the song "Oh Fionna" by Rebecca Sugar from Adventure Time)

“A mind full of chaos, my madness unending. The void in my heart kept growing and growing. But all of it ended with a bittersweet wedding. Star-crossed forever, finally together, my dearest Timpani."

Lord Blumiere adored watching the majesty that were sunsets. They were his favorite time of day, a time where he could be with nothing but himself. They were calming and pleasant, perfect for thinking of ways to make another sweet memory with his love, Lady Timpani. Luckily, when he finds a certain instrument someplace, a magnificent idea comes into his mind: A serenade! Not only would Timpani would completely enamored by one, but the song would be the perfect gift for her! However, despite the practice Blumiere put into it, keeping it secret from her... is another situation.

"The one who brought me out of my dark memories. Attracting my soul with her heart made of purity. Fluttering into view is the loveliest lady. The love of my life, my wonderful wife… My Lady Timpani.”

~

The golden glare of the sun cast its light all throughout the land, and Lord Blumiere rested right against the hill’s tree, appreciating the view. A gradient of oranges, pinks, and blue was redecorating the sky. The sun slowly sank toward the horizon, its once bright glow gradually darkening. Down below, an endless field of grass waved in the evening light, soft breezes grazing right above it. Even the faint rustle of the tree’s leaves was heard, and although the incoming nightly chill made him shiver, Blumiere adored this time of day nonetheless. 

Sunset had finally arrived. 

For him, watching the setting sun was pure serenity. The honey-colored light, an enjoyable sight, and glorious beginning of night - It was the perfect way to end a day. In fact, Blumiere could have slept right then and there if he chose to, but as of lately, he had been working on something special. He rose from his seat on the hill, leaning against the tree for support, and moved his gaze to the base of the valley. It was a fair distance away, and just like the grassy field, it had been bestowed with the sun’s amber glow. However, a certain element caught his eye. It was out of place yet subtly fitting at the same time, and Blumiere knew exactly what it was: 

It was a cottage, the humble home he loved in with the one he loved. Although the man-made structure contrasted with the nature surrounding it, it was still a pleasant presence. Flowering flora bloomed around the cottage’s borders, and its simplicity gave out a calming aura within its environment. It was alone, all by itself with nothing around, but Blumiere knew it was anything but. Soon enough, he smiled, recalling the previous memories his home held. He remembered forming the little garden in its backyard with his partner. There was the time she attempted to bake her own creations, onle for him to end up helping her. Of course, there was no forgetting the times they spent at their favorite location atop the hill. There seemed to be no end to the happiness they shared together… 

Perhaps it was a good time for another memory to be born. 

Blumiere took note of the trail of spoke leaving the cottage’s chimney before observing the area around him. The sunset continued to disappear as dusk slowly arrived. Chilled winds came and flew by, and the only sign of movement was the grass rippling down below. The lord then took one last glimpse of the pewter puffs spewing out of his home, and only then did he give out a small sigh of relief. Blumiere’s privacy was certain. His beloved knew he enjoyed watching the setting sun from atop the hill. 

What she didn’t know, however, was the secret gift he was making for her. 

Blumiere turned around, shifting his attention toward the back of the tree, and caught sight of the item he was looking for. Only its peak was visible as it rested beside the trunk, but when it was snatched out of its hiding place, the entirety of its form was revealed. It was colored a dark blue, nearly the same shade of twilight, with gold and silver swirls decorating it quite nicely. It was an elegant instrument indeed, and Blumiere held it close to him, lightly resting his fingers atop its strings. After tuning it to his liking, he then closed his eyes and made but a simple strum. The sound was pleasant, coming from a guitar, but to the lord, it was perfect. He smirked as he clearly envisioned the music in his mind and reopened his eyes. He then readjusted his grip, took a deep breath, and set his eyes toward the setting sun. 

“To you, my lady,” Blumiere murmured before beginning to play. 

“A mind full of chaos, my madness unending. The void in my heart kept growing and growing. But all of it ended with a bittersweet wedding. Star-crossed forever, finally together, my dearest Timpani.” The lord felt a smile grow across his face as he sang, but he paid no mind to it. Instead, he continued to strum along to the melody, wanting to conclude his song. “The one who brought me out of my dark memories. Attracting my soul with her heart made of purity. Fluttering into view is the loveliest lady. The love of my life, my wonderful wife… My Lady Timpani.” 

Although Blumiere’s song was short, he knew it was very sweet, and he ended it with one final strum. The sound of the guitar echoed around him, reverberating within the ares before finally fading away. He appreciated the whistling cheers of the evening gusts, but there was a certain something on his mind. Blumiere peered down at his instrument, his expression now a serious frown. The darkening amber light of dusk gleamed atop of it, and he simply stared at its design, pondering about a thought in his head as he concentrated. 

“‘Fluttering into view…’” He mumbled to himself. “Perhaps a different line would be more fitting.” 

“Well,” an unexpected voice said, “I thought it sounded nice.” 

The lord nearly jumped in surprise when he caught the sound of the voice. He swiftly spun around, hiding the guitar behind him, and faced its source. Only its head peeked out from behind the tree, but Blumiere knew all too well who it was. The future moved to the side, a slightly mischievous smile on its face, and it was revealing to be none other than Timpani herself. The colorful hues of her dress were now in plain view as they flowed with the soft wind. Her grin, mixed with curiosity and cheerfulness, stayed as her expression, and it took Blumiere a moment to remember his situation and break free of her lovely trance. 

He attempted to steady his anxious, quivering tone as he spoke. “T-Timpani, my dear, you startled me. I thought you were taking care of the cottage.” 

“Oh, I was, but then I decided to go out and look for you.” The lord stayed put as Timpani approached him, daring to straighten his stance ever so slightly as she neared. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but notice her smile gained the slightest hint of seriousness to it. “I do apologize for frightening you, Blumie,” she added. “I understand you like evening sunsets and all, but when it becomes dark, I begin to get concerned.” 

“No worries, my lady. I’ll be sure to return home earlier next time.” Blumiere wished to add one last part to his words, but he hesitated. A certain question had piqued his curiosity, and much to his disliking, it had gotten the best of him. “H-How did you know I was up here anyway?” He found himself spouting. 

With Timpani sending a smug look his way, Blumiere realized the consequences of his simple ask. He could only try his best to appear neutral as she teased him, his secret on the verge of being uncovered. “I just had a feeling you’d be at our favorite spot,” the lady said with a giggle. “Plus, I thought I heard something from up here. Something that sounded like your voice, oddly enough… Were you singing some sort of song, Blumie?” 

Blumiere stood still as he met Timpani’s adamant gaze. He knew she was determined to discover whatever he was hiding, but the smallest detail caught his eye. Her expression softened as her curiosity took over, and only then did he let his guard down. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he sighed, “but I suppose there’s no use in hiding it any longer.” 

Bringing out the guitar from behind him, Blumiere displayed it right in front of Timpani, whose eyes were wide with interest. “What a magnificent guitar… Where did you get it from?” 

“There was a traveling merchant who came by one evening. I looked at her wares and found it there. She told me its music would work best in a moment as special as the one I loved the most, but…” The lord chuckled just before he finished himself. “That secret has already been revealed, hasn’t it?” 

“Well, not exactly.” 

“Hm?” 

Timpani sent a small, caring smile his way as she delivered her own confession. “While I did enjoy your song, I only heard a part of it.” 

“And how much was that, my dear Tippi?” 

“Just the ending, really. I remember you said something about a ‘heart made of purity,’ but you finished as soon as I came up here.” 

Blumiere looked at the lady with a thoughtful gaze before moving it elsewhere to ponder. He brought the instrument back to himself, giving it a quick glance, and suddenly, an idea came to mind. A smirk swiftly grew on his face, and before his partner knew it herself, he crouched down on one knee, holding the guitar close to him as if ready to play. 

“Would you like to hear my serenade for you then, Lady Timpani.” 

Her reaction was anything but simple. Her cheeks flushed red in the darkening evening light, and her ecstatic grin already told him what her response would be. 

“Lord Blumiere… Of course.” 

Upon hearing her answer, Blumiere looked down and plucked on the strings, introducing the music to the new scene. He started off with playing one luxurious note after another. The tune swirled around them, growing as he continued, and it would not take long for him to strum and formally bring the melody to life. 

“A mind full of chaos, my madness unending. The void in my heart kept growing and growing. But all of it ended with a bittersweet wedding. Star-crossed forever, finally together, my dearest Timpani.” 

“Blumie…” 

He felt himself blush when he caught sight of her enamored gaze aimed right at him. Nonetheless, he smiled and continued to play his music. “The one who brought me out of my dark memories,” he mused. “Attracting my soul with her heart made of purity. Fluttering into view is the loveliest lady. The love of my life, my wonderful wife…” 

All of a sudden, Blumiere stopped, pausing only to come face-to-face with the lady in front of him. He allowed his final strum to reverberate as he rose. He then cupped her cheek, her expression lovely and mystified, and quietly hummed the finale. 

“My Lady Timpani.” 

The lord brought his head toward hers, the lady doing the same, and the two of them kissed. Blumiere made sure it was gentle as Timpani’s soft, pleasant lips pressed against his. In that moment, all was perfect as the world around them faded away, and the both of them felt completely content in the other’s company. However, they needed to return to reality eventually. Soon enough, Blumiere slowly and reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, only to get pulled into a large, loving hug. 

“Thank you for that song, Blumie,” timpani murmured, nuzzling him. “I love it, but not as much as I love you.” 

The lord held her close as he returned the embrace. “Anything for you, Timpani,” he said. “I love you too.”

[yandere-daydreams]

can you please write a run away bride, running away from her wedding with Prince Shoto?

This came out *so* much longer than I expected, but I hope y’all like it. Just stick with me, and while I would recommend checking out Part One, you probably don’t have to.

He’d never proposed. Out of all things, that was what you held onto, clinging to that fact like a baby to its favorite blanket, refusing to let go despite how blatant he was about it. 

He’d never asked for your hand.

At first, the changes were small, subtle, barely noticeable. He would hold your waist in public, one day, kissing your cheek rather than your hand, his hand resting on your hips rather than your side. The next he would hold you captive in the ballroom, telling the guards not to let anyone in while he attempted to dance with you, Shoto only laughing and demanding another few minutes when you tripped-up, something he’d bever been so persistant on, before. He was as touchy as ever, too, constantly clinging and whining and pouting whenever you were the slightest bit hesitant to comply with his commands. This kind of behavior wasn’t new, and yet, you found yourself dreading the next day more than ever as you lied awake at night.

 Still, all you could do was tolerate it and pray that your patience would last. Disobedience was a crime worthy of execution, among staff, and you were in no great rush to find yourself on the wrong side of a guillotine.

Then, Shoto just had to go and talk to your parents.

You’d been heading to visit them, when you caught the young prince storming through the servant’s chambers, a crumbled envelope clenched in his hand and the other nearly tearing into his tunic. You’d rushed to his side, more concerned with the damage he’d cause than his mental state, but that didn’t stop you from grabbing his free hand, forcing him to stop and making him acknowledge you. It’d taken a minute for him to calm down, Shoto only shaking his head, grunting something before pulling you back to his chambers.

“They’re being sent away,” He mumbled, his teeth gritted and gaze never rising from the ground. You probed for more, asking what he meant, tentatively pushing for information, but Shoto only dug his nails into your hand. He hadn’t let go, even when you two had stopped walking. “They’re all being sent away. No one can take away what belongs to me.”

You stopped asking, after that.

Your parents weren’t in their chambers, when you returned that night. Nor were they there the next night, or the following, or the night after that. No one else seemed willing to talk, not the chefs or squires or butlers, but you couldn’t blame them. Shoto’s greed had no limit, and you knew that better than most.

That was the point when he started becoming more… mature, with his lingering gestures. He would pull you into his lap on late nights, letting your head rest on his chest, keeping a hand on your thigh as he showed you different flowers, asking with you preferred, which you thought would look the best together, which ones you could picture yourself holding as you walked down a certain, unspecific aisle. He no longer let you slink away to your own room once he’s fallen asleep, insisting on helping you change into your nightclothes, holding cloth and fabric hostage until you gave him a ‘goodnight kiss’, childish pecks on the cheek no longer ending your embarrassment.

His intentions became undeniable, barely a few days after you’d stopped going to the servant’s wing altogether. It was one of the rare days Shoto allowed you to leave the castle, surrounded by hidden knights in civilian clothing and never letting go of your hand, clinging to your side whenever someone looked for a little too long. At one point, you asked where the two of you were supposed to be going, but he only hushed you, insisting that it was a surprise, that you would be so happy when you found out. That he would be happy for you.

You still wonder if he ever noticed how distraught you must’ve looked, when he took you two a higher-end, cozily isolated jeweler, glass cases of hand-made necklaces, bracelets, rings lining the wall. You had to have been there for hours, trying on whatever Shoto saw fit, never complaining and only smiling when he asked you to. You thought he would have you pick out a few of the rings, too, but Shoto was already prepared. Silently, when you were attempting to unclasp the golden bracelet he’d trapped you in, he slipped on a silver band, beautiful in its simplicity. With only a laugh and a dazed stare, a ring that squeezed a little too snuggly was pushed onto your right hand, the gleaming sapphire too big and the metal cutting uncomfortably into your skin. But, Shoto didn’t bat an eye when you brought it up.

He’d chuckled, pulling you close, ignoring the onlooking civilians and workers as he cupped your cheek, going on about how perfect it looked on you, about how beautiful you’d be in white, about how glad he was, to finally do this. He’d continued until you were sick of his voice and pleading to just go home. but you waited until you two were back in his chambers to bring up his words, fiddling with the ring too tight to take off alone. There would be an indent, surely, when you took it off. 

If you took it off.

Shoto barely glanced up from his checklist, more invested in his guests than any questions you’d been dying to ask. It was rare for him to read on his own, but you were thankful. You didn’t think you could keep your voice steady, tonight. “It’ll be like one of those fantasies we always had, the ones we used to act out, with weddings and dancing and balls...” His voice never changed, a deeply embedded monotone, like he hadn’t even thought twice about whether or not you wanted to live out a passing daydream from before you could add properly. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, I promise. I’ll make this perfect, for you.”

You hadn’t been able to control yourself, so agitated and frustrated and infantilized, you simply couldn’t stop. You brought up your parents, how much you missed them, his tantrums, how much you hated him for it, hell, even the time he tried to drown you, nearly killing you and never doing so much as apologizing for it. You shoved him away when he tried to hold you, clawing and kicking and slapping, anything that would keep him at a distance. Your parents were dead, for all you knew, and he was the only one at fault.

You weren’t sure when Shoto started crying, nor when he decided his love wouldn’t enough to sedate you. The first assault had come swiftly, Shoto only grabbing your hair, jerking you back towards the bed and holding you down when you struggled, showering you in threats and deterrents, promises so vile, you doubted even he would go through with them. You only fought harder, determined to just get him away from you, but Shoto’s hold only tightened with every little insult, every movement. Within a second, you were on your back, his hands wrapped around your neck until black spots were forming in your vision, your lungs screaming for air but Shoto only becoming more determined when you began begging him to stop. He waited until you’d stopped trying to let go, just watching coldly as you coughed and sputtered. There were no words of comfort, this time, no reassurances or soothing touches. He didn’t speak a word, not until you attempted to push yourself up. You were so exhausted, you didn’t even resist when he pulled you into his chest, only curling into yourself, trying to ignore the way he cradled you.

You fell asleep like that, tired and beaten and done. He didn’t speak, nor did you cry, both of your remaining still and stiff until your breathing evened out, sleep taking you quickly. Shoto never seemed to blink, just staring as you closed your eyes. Always staring. 

Always, always, always watching you.

When you woke up, you weren’t in Shoto’s chambers. You recognized the plain stone walls, the chilled air, that eternal dampness that seemed to solely exist in the royal family’s dungeons. The room was furnished, a cot and a desk shoved into opposite corners. It was closer to a bedroom than a prison, but the thick, iron shackles around your wrist were enough to disprove any rational theory you could’ve thought up.

It took hours for Shoto to find you, but eventually, he walked through your cell door, smiling so casually, you would’ve thought he’d only come to visit a friend, rather than a prisoner. He sat on the end of your bed, an arm around your shoulders while he murmured, speaking softly and so, so sweetly. The monotone was gone, replaced as if it had never existed. You would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t thankful.”

“It’s a shame, my beloved running away so soon after we were engaged, so stressed by the new status that they simply disappeared. The whole kingdom is on a man-hunt, ever since our disagreement.” A grin pulled at his lips, stretching and distorting his features. He didn’t make an attempt to hide his intentions, now, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head towards him, pushing a chaste, excited kiss against your lips. “Maybe, when we work things out, you’ll be able to come home. Or, I could keep you locked up here as my personal prisoner. Would that be better than marrying someone who loves you?”

You never answered, and Shoto didn’t push you to, content with humming and slotting himself against your back, tracing his fingers over that heavy, oversized, disgusting ring. Briefly, you considered doing it, just agreeing with whatever he wanted and resigning yourself to a life of reading fairy-tales and playing dress-up with a man who acted half his age. 

But, you knew that wouldn’t be a fate any better than rotting in a dungeon.

If you were being honest with yourself, you’d been in chains since the moment Shoto had first decided he wanted you to be. The shackles were only a formality, really.

[enbyleighlines]

Wlecome back! I hope things are going well for you, I've missed seeing you on my dash as much. Can I prompt something Wen Qing related please? I would especially love her interacting with Wen Ning or Jiang Yanli, but when it comes to my girl I am not fussy (^‿^)

Thank you! You can absolutely ask for something Wen Qing related! I hope you enjoy this Wen Qing centric drabble~

STARTING LINE

Early September | Gusu University

The first time Wen Qing passed through Gusu, she had had her nose buried in a book, and had completely missed the opportunity to observe the city through the window of the carriage. Aside from one monosyllabic servant, 18-year-old Wen Qing was making the journey to Gusu University on her own. Usually, it was A-Ning who reminded Wen Qing to take the time to observe the scenery. 

A-Ning had wanted to escort Wen Qing, had even mustered up the courage to ask Master Wen about it, but his request had been denied. A-Ning was already behind in his arcane studies, and Master Wen thought it unwise to risk setting him further behind.

Logically, Wen Qing could accept that reasoning. Her beloved brother had always been unusually meek and humble; the very opposite of what a disciple of the Wen family ought to be. In her heart, however, Wen Qing could not help but miss her sweet baby brother. He was certainly a much better conversationalist than the morose maid sent to accompany her. 

Wen Qing very much hoped that the girl — she had introduced herself as A-Yang — would prove to be more interesting as time went on, as they would be spending the next three years together. 

But those musings would have to be continued at a later time. Wen Qing’s attention was finally drawn away from her book by the sound of the coachman urging the horses to halt. For the first time during the trip, Wen Qing pulled aside the curtain to peer outside. She did not know what she had expected from the most prestigious arcane university in the country, but Wen Qing was surprised to see rolling hills and little else. It was only when Wen Qing craned her head that she saw the corner of an actual building.

“We’re here,” A-Yang said, unnecessarily. 

“Yes, I can see that, thank you,” Wen Qing replied, trying to sound polite rather than sarcastic, and probably failing. 

Wen Qing didn’t wait for the coachman to open her door, and instead took that small duty into her own hands. When she stepped out, the first thing she noticed was the chill in the air. Wen Qing shivered, and drew her outer coat tighter around her. The next thing that hit Wen Qing was the silence. Gusu University was a place of study, true, but still. Wen Qing wondered if the silence was due to the fact that not many students had arrived yet. 

(Later, she would realize that, no, Gusu was always that quiet.)

When Wen Qing turned to take a better look at the building, she was struck yet again with surprise. It was unexpectedly modest, in both size and design. It was not ugly by any stretch of the imagination, as its simplicity gave it a certain charm, but in a world where magi families loved to showcase their wealth, it stood out like a sore thumb. 

As Wen Qing stood there staring at it, the front door opened, and a woman in a purple and pink dress stepped out. 

The stranger was just an inch shorter than Wen Qing, with a round, pale face, partially concealed by a curtain of bangs. The quality of her clothes suggested that she was a woman of high standing. And though her features were rather plain, she had a very kind smile.

“Hello,” the woman said, as she approached Wen Qing, “You must be Miss Qing.”

Wen Qing frowned, unable to hide her surprise. “I am,” she answered, dropping into a curtsey. And then, “I apologize, but I did not realize that someone would be waiting for me.”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” the other woman scrambled to say, “I should apologize. I should have introduced myself first.” She dipped into her own curtsey, and then went on, “My name is Jiang Yanli, only daughter to Master Jiang. This will be my third year at Gusu University. There are only a handful of female students here at Gusu, so I like to take the time to help each first-year get settled in.”

“Oh.” Wen Qing rolled that over her head. “So that’s how you knew my name,” she guessed.

Miss Yanli’s hand flew to her mouth in shock. “Yes, sorry,” she said, “I didn’t realize that would sound so suspicious. Like I said, there are not many female students here. And not much happens here. So gossip spreads quickly.”

Wen Qing nodded. That made sense to her. “Is that why the female dorm is so small?”

With a slightly embarrassed giggle, Miss Yanli glanced over her shoulder at the unimpressive looking building. “Yes,” she admitted, “That’s exactly why. It’s only recently that Gusu University has accepted female students. There are exactly one dozen bedrooms, with two students assigned to each room. And half of them have never been used.”

“Why not let every student have their own room, then?”

Miss Yanli glanced at Wen Qing, and then quickly looked away. She kept her eyes focused on the horizon as she answered, “The headmaster believes that students might be more inclined to misbehave if they don’t have a roommate to hold them accountable.”

Well, wasn’t that a vague, nothing answer? But Wen Qing did not point that out. It was clear that the very mention of the topic made Miss Yanli uncomfortable, and Wen Qing saw no reason to press the matter. Wen Qing had never shared a room with anyone before, but she was not so spoiled that she would throw a fit over being asked to do so, especially since Miss Yanli had been nothing but pleasant towards her thus far. Besides, Wen Qing suspected that Miss Yanli’s non-answer was an attempt at conveying a rude truth in a polite manner. 

“Where will my maid, A-Yang, sleep?” Wen Qing asked instead.

Miss Yanli smiled sheepishly. “The servants have their own separate quarters,” she answered, “They share a building with the school staff, which is closer to campus. Men and women are still divided into two separate wings, but they share a cafeteria and recreation room. I suppose, since they are adults, they can be trusted not to engage in... mischief.”

There was something about the way Miss Yanli had phrased that that made Wen Qing chuckle. It seemed that they shared a sense of humor.

“Quite,” Wen Qing snickered. She didn’t point out that A-Yang was hardly much older than Miss Yanli. It was not that the adult staff were more trusted, but rather that they were not held to the same standards. If Wen Qing was correct about “mischief” being a euphemism for something else, then it made sense that the headmaster at Gusu University did not care whether or not the staff and servants engaged in it. The purity of their souls was of no consequence to magi. It was the apprentice magi who had to prove that they were good and virtuous, in order to maintain the facade of moral superiority. 

There was a brief second of silence. Then Miss Yanli spoke again.

“Well,” Miss Yanli said, making a show of looking in all directions, “It doesn’t look like anyone else will be arriving soon. May I give you a short tour?”

Wen Qing curtsied. “You may,” she answered, half sarcastic and half sincere.

That got a small giggle out of Miss Yanli. 

Wen Qing turned to A-Yang, who was already helping the coachman unload Wen Qing’s belongings. Before she could say anything, however, Miss Yanli rushed forward.

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me help carry something,” Miss Yanli offered, “We can transfer the luggage to Miss Qing’s assigned quarters before the tour. That is, if Miss Qing doesn’t mind?” She then gave Wen Qing a wide-eyed look that only a sociopath could have denied.

Wen Qing was immediately reminded of A-Ning. It was similarly impossible to deny him anything, as soon as he pulled out the puppy eyes.

Beyond that, though, was the fact that Miss Yanli was making a point of participating in the kind of work reserved for servants. Wen Qing was not offended, like some other aristocrats might have been, but she was surprised. Of course, Wen Qing felt the occasional stab of discomfort when her servants performed tasks that Wen Qing could have easily accomplished on her own, but it was an easy emotion to ignore. A-Ning also insisted on doing his own chores, a fact that earned him no small amount of ridicule. For Wen Qing, it was easier to just go along with harmless little things like that. Perhaps Wen Qing did not believe that she was inherently superior to the peasant class just because she had been born into money, but the servants were getting paid to do their job, and as long as they were treated with basic courtesy, what was the harm in it?

Still, Wen Qing could appreciate a woman like Miss Yanli who, despite being higher on the totem pole than Wen Qing, did not consider herself above manual labor. 

“It’s fine,” Wen Qing said. She went to A-Yang’s side and held out a hand. When A-Yang looked at her as though Wen Qing had just sprouted horns, Wen Qing jokingly inquired, “What? I can’t just sit back while the daughter of Master Jiang carries my luggage, can I? Let me help, too.”

[greencrusader13]

All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 10 - Knights in Training

Yay! At long last another chapter done! As evidenced by the year stamp at the start of the chapter, this one takes place after a time skip from when we last saw these characters, eight years in fact. The kiddos are growing up!

As always please like and reblog if you’ve been enjoying this fic! It’s been a real pleasure writing it.

3653 BBY…

There was blood in the air, the copper-like scent intertwined with smoke and chaos and fear. Eonur felt it thick in his lungs, strangling him as he coughed, pushing his way through the haze. The blue glow of his lightsaber provided what little additional sight it could, but it wasn’t much. All around him he could feel the terror of the other Jedi permeating through the temple halls, the younger ones’ emotions running rampant. Their home was in ruins, the main hall aflame. The great statues and pillars situated there were nothing more than mounds of rubble. Overhead starfighters, Republic and Empire alike, screamed as they pursued one another across Coruscant’s sky.

And all the while he felt it, something he hadn’t felt since he was first rescued by the Jedi years ago. Hatred, a thick miasma in the air. The dark side of the Force.

As he continued down the hall a hand gripped his shoulder from behind. “Hey! Boy! Get back to work!” the voice said in Huttese.

Huttese?

Eonur jolted awake, launching himself upright while seizing his sheets tighter. His scrambling nearly sent him tumbling to the floor, but he caught himself in time. No sooner had he fully come to consciousness than he realized he heard laughter, the light cackling sound of a cathar boy perched across from him. Tyar grinned playfully as he balanced at the foot of Eonur’s bed, his hands planted between his feet as he crouched, looking borderline feral, and his red eyes sparked with mirth.

“What’s the matter Eonur? Did I frighten you?” he said, once again speaking fluent Huttese.

“Jerk.” Eonur reached behind him for his pillow, which he promptly hurled at his friend with the Force, who ducked out of the way with ease. Tyar rolled back, pushed himself to a handstand, and then vaulted from Eonur’s bed. Though he lacked Eonur’s innate strength, the cathar had been blessed with agility unlike any of the other initiates they’d encountered, and was prone to showing it off. With a sigh Eonur shook his head and swung out his legs. “Is everything okay?” His eyes flicked to the window, where golden sunlight was just beginning to crack along Coruscant’s skyline. “Did something happen?”

Tyar shook his head. “Nah you’re fine. Besides, Greylam would be the one at your door right now if you had overslept. Probably would chastise you with one of the Order’s philosophies or something.”

Eonur chuckled despite himself. “He’s been reading The Collected Writings of Master Dorak again. I don’t think he can help it.” He stopped, then shot a blank glance at his friend. “What are you doing in my room anyhow? For that matter, how did you even get in here?”

“Used a security spike that I made.” Tyar shrugged, as though the act of breaking into any part of the Jedi Temple was a frivolity.

“But…why?”

“In part because I can, but mostly because there’s something I want to show you.”

“Ominous.”

Tyar rolled his eyes and, with the flick of his wrist, flung Eonur’s duvet off over the end of his bed using the Force. “Just get dressed and meet me in five minutes.” Still facing Eonur he started to leave, exiting backwards through the door. “And if I have to break in here again because you decided to get some more shut eye then I’m dragging you down the halls.” The door slid open at his approach, and then Tyar was gone.

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try,” he mumbled, though Tyar was well gone by the time the words left his mouth. Eonur didn’t doubt that his friend would make some vain attempt should he go back to sleep. It was for both their sakes that he decided to get up.

How could he go back to sleep anyhow, with the dream still fresh in his head? Everything about it – up until Tyar’s disruption – had felt so real, as though he lived it. A chill ran up his back as he recalled the nightmare. In all his years at the temple, he couldn’t picture it so devastated, that the war would reach the very heart of the Jedi Order in all its terrifying chaos. Yet here he was, safe in his own bed, the Jedi Temple assuredly safe.

It was just a dream.

He dressed quickly, not wanting to keep Tyar waiting any longer. His robes, the standard faire for an initiate, was his fourth set in the past three years. The sudden onset of adolescence had caused Eonur to grow significantly in that time after spending most of his time at the academy as a smaller-than-average youth. His first he’d simply outgrown. The other two he’d tried preserving as long as possible, but they both tore despite his best efforts. He was growing still, and fast at that.

Tyar had his arms crossed when Eonur stepped outside. The cathar tapped his foot impatiently against the opposite wall, ignorant of the other initiates likely trying to sleep at this early hour. He was up far earlier than most of their peers, aside from Greylam of course, who most often awoke before dawn to meditate in the gardens. Most mornings they would both be asleep at this particular hour, yet Tyar was already his robes, but they were covered in light patches of dirt and grime smears. His black hair had been tied back into his usual topknot, but stray strands of hair stuck out on parts of his head. He’d been out – again – and something had him excited.

“You ready? Let’s go,” Tyar said, waving Eonur along down the hall without even giving him a moment’s pause.

Eonur quickened his pace to match his friend’s stride. “Where are we even going?” He kept his voice low, though they were nearly out of earshot of the nearby rooms.

“You’re pretty jumpy this morning,” Tyar replied, flashing another playful grin. “I didn’t mean to scare you that badly. All in good fun.” He rounded the corner to the elevators and pressed the “up” button, which glowed red in response.

“It’s not that, just…” he paused, watching the unlit arrow on the wall above them. “I had a dream. A bad one. Right before you woke me up, actually.”

“So?”

“So, it felt real. It wasn’t like other dreams I’ve had that only felt real while I was having them. This one felt different, like it could actually happen. I’ve heard some masters talking about how sometimes the Force gives us visions of things yet to come, and I was thinking-”

“It’s not real,” Tyar said, his voice softer now, sympathetic even. The elevator opened before them, and he waved Eonur inside. Outside the glass Coruscant’s cityscape lay sprawling across the horizon. A golden sun rose just beyond the skyline, setting the morning sky ablaze with beautiful color, and they too rose with it as the elevator ascended. He could hardly stand to picture what the skies would look like ablaze, though he knew from history it had been several times before.

“I used to have dreams that I was flying with Cirak.”

Eonur blinked back his surprise. It had been some time since he’d heard Tyar mention his older brother. The name seemed heavy on his lips, and it took several moments before he spoke again. “We’d be back on Nar Shaddaa in an old speeder he fixed up, and he was driving so fast that all the lights blended together as they passed. It felt so real that I still remember the smoky air in my lungs and the rush of the wind and my big brother’s smile.” He shrugged. “I was nine when I had that dream, and I was the same age in it. I had it again seven more times. Four years later and not much has changed. I’m not on Nar Shaddaa, and I haven’t seen my brother since I was five. Don’t put too much stock in dreams.”

Eonur frowned, but nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Tyar said. Crossing his arms, he added, “Ugh, now you’ve gone and soured the mood. I was real’ excited for this too.”

Somewhere beneath them those remaining at the Jedi Temple were beginning to wake. There were some older Jedi already stirring, initiates and padawans who hadn’t yet left, but they were few in number. War had hollowed out the temple’s halls, and every day it seemed as though more left to fight for the Republic. It had raged on since he before was first brought to Coruscant, back on the day Orgus Din rescued him from Imperial captivity. If it was to ever end, Eonur doubted that such a day would occur in his lifetime.

Eonur hoped that perhaps by some stroke of luck he’d see the Jedi Master roaming the Great Hall one of these days, but it never happened. He’d only seen his rescuer once in the years following his liberation, just as he was boarding a starfighter with Bengel Morr. Too often he was away in battle. He’d hear stories of his valor, his heroism, and from personal experience Eonur knew they were all true. There’d been no opportunity to thank him, let alone for him to see the Jedi Eonur was becoming in large part to him. Even if it was once, a single exchange even, Eonur wished he could express the gratitude he held that words could not begin to capture.

Upon reaching the upper dormitories of the Jedi Temple, Tyar guided Eonur over to his room. His friend’s fingers danced along the keypad so quickly that he entered his own password incorrectly twice, and he barely waited for the door to slide open before pulling Eonur along with him inside. Tyar’s room was no different from his own, sharing the same simplicity, but it was due to this fact that the medium-sized lump under a black tarp by his desk became more readily apparent, even with the room still coated in dark. Eonur stopped in his tracks as Tyar dramatically gripped the tarp, poised for the unveiling.

“Okay, promise to be quiet?”

“What is that?”

“That,” Tyar started, “is not a yes. Promise to be quiet?”

Eonur waved him off. “Yeah, yeah I promise. Just show me!”

Without another word Tyar ripped off the tarp. An astromech droid lay on its side, just barely short enough to fit underneath Tyar’s desk. No lights blinked, and the droid did not whir or shake as most did when placed in such a position. In fact, it appeared as though it hadn’t been active for some time. Its metal plating was rusted in places along its dome, and its whole body was covered in dents and scratches. Several emitters had been smashed, and from a basic lookover it seemed impossible that the droid would ever be able to play holorecordings in its current state. Eonur ran his hand down the length of the droid, incurring a light film of dust and ash on his fingertips. Even the model seemed older, decades old at least.

“Where did you find this?” Eonur asked. He could barely mask the amazement in his voice.

“I was down in the lower city again-”

Eonur pressed his palm to his face. “Tyar…”

“No, I was careful! Nobody even saw me go. Anyways, I was exploring, and I came across this part of a wrecked cruiser. Somehow scrappers never got around to tearing it up.

“But that’s not the best part,” Tyar continued. He rolled the droid over onto its face. There, on its back, was a painted sigil of a horned creature, an icon all Jedi had become familiar with in the years past. Years ago, before his or Tyar’s own time at the Temple, ships bearing that emblem had torn Coruscant’s skies asunder.

Eonur met Tyar’s eyes. “It’s Mandalorian?”

His friend nodded excitedly. “Looks like. I heard that Mandos don’t even use droids all that often, so whatever they had this one for it must’ve been important.”

“Do you think it was shot down during Hydian Way?”

“That’s what makes the most amount of sense to me.”

“This is incredible,” Eonur breathed. “I can’t believe it survived crashing from orbit.”

“Can you fix it?”

Eonur shot Tyar a sideways glance. “Fix it?”

“Yeah. It might have some old recordings on it that the Republic never found. Even if not the droid’s in good enough shape that we could probably pry loose its memory core if need be. So, do you think you can?”

The last time he’d worked on droid maintenance was as a small child, but the skills he’d learned as a slave hadn’t left him either. Threats of beatings – often fulfilled – instilled that knowledge within him for life. Astromech droids were simple, at least compared to some war droids one of his masters possessed. They’d been armed with plasma and a self-destruct sequence in case of irreparable damage; a “parting gift” for his master’s enemies. Eonur doubted the little tin can would be carrying that same destructive capability.

“Sure, I can, but am I really the best one to have work on this? I mean, have you even told the council about it yet?”

Tyar’s grin faded as the question reached his ears, his mouth flattening into a taciturn line. The sudden grimness startled Eonur, but he remained quiet for his response. “If I told them they’d probably just confiscate it and we wouldn’t get to learn anything. I’d probably even get in trouble for going out on my own again. I just want this to remain between us.” His eyes carried the plea with a greater volume than his words could carry.

“What about Greylam?” Eonur asked, but he knew from Tyar’s scoffing that it would essentially be the same as telling the Jedi Council. Even he – Greylam’s most staunch advocate when it came to these matters – couldn’t deny that their friend’s first instinct would be to run and tell one of the Jedi Masters about Tyar’s discovery. He likely wouldn’t even understand what the problem would be.

“Think about it Eonur: we don’t know what kind of data this droid might have stored on it. If it has some battle plans, or schematics for Mando ships-”

“They would be outdated.”

“But it could give us insight to their strategies.” Tyar’s tone shifted, foregoing his grim seriousness in favor of the enthusiasm he’d held when he first unveiled the droid. “It’s possible we could even prevent another blockade. We’d be heroes!”

Heroics aside, Eonur couldn’t deny the appeal of Tyar’s reasoning. If the droid did carry any sensitive information it could be critical in the Republic’s war effort. The Mandalorian blockade had nearly cost them the war back before he’d even had the opportunity to join the Jedi Order, and it had cost countless soldiers their lives restoring peace to Coruscant. Without the smuggler Hylo Visz, the toll could’ve been even worse. This droid could prevent something like that from ever happening again; Jedi were as much the shields of the Republic as their swords.

They could prevent his nightmare from becoming a reality.

“Okay, I’ll help.”

Tyar pumped his fist, flashing a toothy and fanged smile. “Yes! I knew I could count on you.”

“We’ll need some tools before we get to work on it, but they shouldn’t be too hard to-”

A knock interrupted Eonur’s instruction, and both their heads turned towards the door. “Hide it!” Eonur whispered. Tyar threw the tarp back over the droid as Eonur backed himself up against the wall, attempting to lean against it nonchalantly. He knew without even a mirror that he was failing spectacularly at that.

The doors slid open at Tyar’s beckoning. “Oh, I really should’ve expected it to be you.”

Greylam Cormat stood in the doorway, his posture straight and narrow and completely emotionless, like always. Eonur didn’t even need to see his face – silhouetted against the hallway lights against Tyar’s dark room – to know that his expression too was devoid of any expression. It was a fact about Greylam that Eonur had never fully understood, how to heart he took the Jedi teaching of “there is no emotion; there is peace.” Perfect tranquility accompanied him in every activity, more so than some masters in the Order. Eonur was as awed by his devotion to the teachings as he was troubled by how unnatural it all seemed.

“You’re here early,” Tyar continued, crossing his arms as he braced himself against the doorframe. “How were the gardens? Successful meditation?”

“Meditation isn’t something that is successful or not. That is not the point of it.”

“That’s not…argh, never mind. Still, I’m surprised to see you Grey. For all you know I could’ve still been sleeping.”

“But you weren’t, not unless you and Eonur have begun cohabitating, but I know you haven’t. There are policies against such arrangements.” Greylam’s gaze tilted towards Eonur is the slightest of movements. “Good morning my friend. I checked your room first but did not find you there. You must have left minutes before my arrival.”

“Morning Greylam,” Eonur said. He crossed the room, hoping to block Greylam’s view of the desk from the door. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course,” Greylam replied, “There is nothing to be concerned over, but I was just curious if you two would actually remember today or not. It would appear not.”

“What in the heck are you talking about?” Tyar asked.

Eonur broke his gaze away from his friends as he wracked his brain for some earthly idea of what Greylam might be referring to. It wasn’t a holiday, and they’d made no plans for the day to spend together. Lessons wouldn’t start for a few more hours unless under special circumstances such as…

“Oh!” Eonur exclaimed, pushing himself up from against the desk. “Oh that’s right!”

“What?”

Excitement barred Eonur’s mind from processing all the words needed to convey what they were missing. “Master Melara! Training grounds!” How could they have possibly forgotten? They had talked about it on end since they were first told.

Understanding glinted in Tyar’s red eyes as they widened in a look of equal parts joy and horror. Without a word he bolted out the door past Greylam, who in turn watched quietly as the cathar sprinted down the hallway towards the elevators.

Eonur stopped beside Greylam, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks for getting us.”

“You were late,” Greylam said, “And I was asked.”

“I owe you,” Eonur said, quickening his pace to catch up with Tyar, already down the hall. “At dinner tonight would you like my dessert?”

“That would be nice.” Although his face didn’t contain any hint of it, Eonur knew Greylam’s words were the closest he’d come to expressing any sort of excitement.

“Come on let’s go!” Tyar shouted from the end of the corridor. If other students weren’t awake yet, they were now.

It was hard not to feel excited, for today they started a pivotal step towards becoming Jedi Knights. They’d known the day was coming, and now it had finally arrived. Today, at long last, they were going to learn how to wield a lightsaber.

[musicdanceswhenyousleep]

MDWYS Favorites: Quarantine Edition

In a time when being a good citizen means staying at home and not involving yourself with society, what better way to spend your days than listen to a whole lotta ambient music? That is exactly what we have been doing and while a global pandemic is definitely a negative event, we are happy to finally have found the time to listen to all your submissions. Here are our four favorites.

Sterile Cuckoo ‘’Elysian’’ 

It is blissful to see that experimentation still takes place and more importantly - produces good music. Sterile Cuckoo, with their new album entitled ‘Elysian’ does just that. Sounds that are very different to box into a specific category, with unexpected elements popping out of nowhere to surprise the listener and yet altogether a very peculiar and pleasant musical endeavor - we can recommend this album to fans of everything from Bon Iver, through classical, to chill beat and beyond. Definitely our favorite of recent submissions.

Currently sold out on vinyl, but available for digital purchase and streaming over here:

https://sterilecuckoo.bandcamp.com/

Boi Borzoi ‘First Snow’ and ‘Blue Dunes’ (singles)

Quantity does not equal quality and with only two singles under his belt, Boi Borzoi is our second favorite in this round-up. 

Boi Borzoi, who by the way wins the coolest artist name category, relies heavily on piano and suspense, intertwining the running keys with distant string sections and other airy sounds. Having listened to both ‘First Snow’ and ‘Blue Dunes’ we deduct that Boi Borzoi is likely both classically, as well as rhythmically trained - with elements of jazz being especially evident in ‘Blue Dunes’. Both singles - just like we love music to do - are really taking their time and not rushing anywhere, a characteristic that is almost sacred to the genre of ambient and chill and a characteristic well understood by Boi Borzoi.

Good work, in fact good enough for us to encourage you to make an album or at least an EP and when that’s done - send it over.

Listen to the two singles over here:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/78JJhYjd2J7r4Py5fUl6Lj?si=AGd_YxXEQJ6PJROJYPsazQ

Alessandro Penna ‘’Sol III’’ LP

By his own words Alessandro Penna is ‘’trying to give the listeners the sensation of fluctuation, the feelings of mystery, the feelings about the birth of biological life, the evolution of civilizations and the unknown in the universe’’.

We couldn’t have said it better ourselves. If any of you are looking to trip out to a distant galaxy where gravity is none and eternity is in your hand - ‘Sol III’ is your piece of cake. Metaphors aside, the album presents the listener with 10 tracks, most of them seven or eight minutes long, all of which are perfect for either meditation or a sleeping aid - and that’s a big compliment. While there is an abundance of music that tries to fit those scenarios, Alessandro Penna has a good an original take on it, the take being space and space only.

You can listen to ‘’Sol III’’ and other creations by the spacey Italian over here:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/2a2IhUxcm18U4aE3Bm69fm?si=ySUmsQx_TMu8XoOLX51OaQ

Webrov ‘’Who I Am’’ (chillout mix) / Single

Finally, we would like to end this feature on a more commercial note. A submission sent in from Ukraine has caught our ear with it’s simplicity and honesty. The single makes use of all elements you would expect in a track that has ‘chillout mix’ written next to it and we say that with appreciation to the artist. 

Simple piano chords, a gentle female voice singing over it and a well-balanced soft beat coming in and out of the mix is what you get and it feels good!

Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOaudooPIDg

_________________________________________________

With that we are finishing our ‘Favorites: Quarantine Edition’ and wish you a nice stay at home and clean hands, now and after!

Love,

Music Dances When You Sleep (MDWYS)

[sapphicscholar]

Pride Month Prompts Day 22: Wedding (Grace/Frankie)

From this Pride Month Prompts post! I’m taking the opportunity to write some short fics for a variety of pairings that I haven’t written for as much. I’ll be sure to tag them all with #pride month prompts so you can find them later if you’d like!

Day 22: Wedding - on AO3 as Casual Simplicity

Pairing: Grace/Frankie

A/N: I apologize if this has already been done and I haven’t gotten to read that particular fic yet!

“Marry me.”

They’re words Grace never expected to hear again, not after 40 years of a loveless marriage came crumbling down around her, the husband she’d tolerated for so long apparently deciding that the years she gave him weren’t enough to make up for that “more” he’d gone chasing in another man’s arms, sneaking away on long “business trips” and leaving her alone with the children she’d come to love but had never wanted for her own sake. But the words are real. Nick is real, sitting there, right in front of her, looking perfectly handsome in a tailored suit from a designer that Grace has heard of and approves of. But the words—they have to be a joke, and she says as much.

Only Nick doesn’t leave. He stays there, telling her he doesn’t care if it’s crazy; he wants to marry her anyway. There’s an answer for every question, even that why that Grace has tried to avoid thinking too hard about when it comes to most of her romantic decisions. But Nick smiles up at her, more guileless than he’ll ever be during the business day, and tells her it’s simple, says, “I love you,” says, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And there’s something so damn attractive about simple.

Robert had seemed simple. He was a lawyer from a wealthy family with a charming smile and an easy laugh. He was a perfect gentleman on their dates, never pushing her to do things she didn’t want to do—later, she’ll wonder if all those years of polite manners were just repression dressed up in bourgeois niceties. When he asked her to marry him, neither of them asked why, neither of them wondered if it would be enough, if it would be the kind of love that sent them reeling. They fit. Socially, politically, financially, hell, even aesthetically—Robert’s taller, slightly stockier frame the perfect accessory to finish off Grace’s ensembles, right along with all shimmering, pre-packed gift jewelry that accentuated prominent collar bones and thin wrists and long, perfectly manicured fingers.

Simple makes sense. Simple is Byron telling Grace she’s “smokin’ hot” and sweeping her off her feet—quite literally—his desire plain for the world to see. Simple is the way her body had reacted to that show of need, of someone wanting her so clearly, so straightforwardly, at least until her mind caught up with her.

Everything with Nick would be simple. Problems would be purchased and turned into solutions or made to disappear. Love would be something declared in clear prose. Meals would appear and could be ignored in turn, the dishes vanishing and leftovers sliding down a garbage disposal that would never be clogged with paint or dirt or the DVR remote that had gone missing weeks ago. Sex would happen on a semi-regular basis and would continue to be semi-good, and Vybrant, promising older women that they could enjoy genuinely fulfilling sexual pleasure, would continue to flourish, and never would she let herself hold those two things up side-by-side for a comparison that might show her things she didn’t want to see.

Grace leans over and kisses Nick, hoping it’s answer enough when she can’t make her mouth form the sounds needed to agree to this next simple step. He cups her jaw and kisses her, smiling into it, and it isn’t Byron’s rough hands, but it’s real. It isn’t some video broadcast to the whole Internet talking about kisses that never happened—kisses offered in jest and discussed in public and penciled into Grace’s otherwise pristine planner in all capital letters, but never a real option.

As Grace walks down the beach, tucked into Nick’s side, she finally manages a, “Yes.” And that settles it. Because Nick doesn’t offer things he doesn’t mean. He doesn’t proposition someone for years only to laugh—loudly, too loudly—and insist it had been a great big tease all along when they finally start to say yes.

Only, it turns out that for all his simplicity, Nick wants some of that simplicity in return. He wants someone who will want him back. Can deal with a third player in the game, but not when it becomes clear that player 3 will always be priority 1.

They’re in the back of Nick’s car, flying down the highway on their way to be married, but all Grace can think about, can talk about, is Frankie. About what Frankie said. About everything Frankie has done. About all the ways Frankie has been telling her, again and again, even after her walking disease of a boyfriend took his yurt and fucked off, that what they have isn’t enough—and why shouldn’t it be enough? Why can’t it be enough? Why is Grace—again, always—being told that what she valued as enough someone else saw as lacking, never the “more” that would somehow make it worthwhile?

Nick shrugs his shoulders, as laissez-faire in his attitude towards Frankie’s behavior as he wants the government to be about his business. “Maybe Kooky wants something that you already have without her.”

“And what the hell would that be?” Grace snaps, yanking her hand free of Nick’s, too annoyed to want his easy comfort right now.

Nick turns to face her head on then, and Grace can see something like resignation in his expression, wonders how she’s fucked another thing up today, all before the sun has even set. “I meant me. A relationship.”

“Oh.”

Before Grace can get out one of those light, breezy laughs and paper over the fact that she’s forgotten the very thing she’s on her way to concretize in binding, legal documents, Nick takes her hand in his once more. “Maybe I should have listened when you told me this was crazy.”

“Nick.”

“I love you, Grace. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But not when you’ll always be there wondering about someone else.”

“It’s not the same,” Grace insists, her voice cracking as Nick’s words edge close—too close—to the questions that she’s been trying to quiet with pills and drown in vodka.

“No, it’s not the same. But I think I’m on the losing side here.”

---

Hovering on that thin line between still drunk and already hungover that would normally have Grace reaching for either a new drink or an Ambien and a few Advil, Grace pulls her sweater tighter around herself to ward off the chill as she wanders down the beach. The sea lions are quiet now, the breeze barely a whisper in the air. If only Bud and Allison had scheduled their wedding for 4am, then no one would have known that Grace couldn’t make heads or tails of Frankie’s pictionary Post Its.

The lights are almost all out at the beach house now, though the outside decorations are still up, long strings of fairy lights twinkling in the night sky. Grace knows she could walk back in, go up to her room, and sleep in a bed, but after hours of drunken contemplation alone, she isn’t quite sure she deserves it. Yes, Frankie had left stupid notes that made no fucking sense, but Grace could have asked, could have dealt with Joan Margaret and gotten on Frankie’s calendar, or pulled a Frankie and scrawled her name across the entire day (and she thinks Frankie may well have honored such a request). Instead, she’d assumed that Frankie was being, well, Kooky—and the caricature of Kooky that Nick thought he knew, not the slightly kooky but also brilliant, caring, warm woman Grace had come to know over the years.

Of course, there’s still anger there, too. Anger at Frankie for thinking that her life only meant something if she drank disgusting cacao and slept in a yurt on a beachfront in La Jolla and stole the Whole Foods groceries Grace was still buying for her and acted like somehow it was all enlightened because some man who smelled like feet and patchouli told her it was. Anger at Frankie for getting stoned and tweeting out promises that would bankrupt the company they’d worked so hard to build together—their refuge in a world that told them they didn’t matter. Anger at Frankie for posting some poorly edited video that made it sound like they were some old lesbian couple selling vibrators and sneaking into one another’s rooms late at night to kiss and test out their merchandise. Anger at Frankie for making her think about those things, making her wonder about those possibilities.

Then Frankie’s own anger and hurt comes rushing back at her. The betrayal in her voice when she’d seen the store-bought cake—the last straw that seemed to scream into that big empty kitchen: “I don’t trust you to do anything, not even when it comes to your children.” But Grace’s mind keeps returning, again and again, to the big fuck you moment—at least the one Frankie named as such. “You ran away with your boyfriend.” Grace absolutely loathes the hope she can feel bubbling up in her chest at the thought that maybe Frankie does see value in what they are together, that maybe Nick hurt Frankie—not because he was a capitalist or a fiscal conservative, but because he was there, with Grace, the new second name to her “Grace and”—as much as the yurt hobo and the version of Jacob who’d decided Santa Fe was a good idea had hurt Grace.

Eventually Grace settles herself in on a pile of rocks, tries to ignore the aches and pains that have become so much sharper as all the alcohol from earlier fades into the cold sobriety of almost-morning. Closing her eyes, Grace lets her mind drift, thinks about all that might have been had she run off with Nick and gone through with the marriage. Would she be here now? She doubts it. A wife would have been at home in bed with her husband, not sitting on the beach desperately needing to make things right with the woman who’d been her home for the past five years.

---

It’s a little after sunrise when Grace sees what she thinks is another figure down the beach. Her eyesight isn’t as bad as Frankie’s, but it certainly isn’t what it once was. Deciding it’s worth the potential humiliation of yelling at a stranger or an inanimate object, Grace stands and starts moving toward the blurry shape, yelling, “Frankie!”

But then the blurry shape is standing and yelling, “Grace!” right back at her.

And she doesn’t care that her knee is screaming, doesn’t care that Grace Hanson most definitely does not run, because her heart is pushing her as fast and as far as she can go—even if it isn’t very far or very fast.

“I’ll come to you!” And Frankie, who eats carbs and whipped cream and gummy bears for breakfast, is running like some sort of elite athlete in the 65+ category, while Grace waits, half hobbling, desperately hoping her knee won’t give out on her now.

Then Frankie is in front of her, and all the anger slips away in the face of the person she might have lost, maybe forever, and everything Grace has been thinking comes pouring out of her. Apologies for the terrible things she’s said. Admissions that she’s become a better person, someone that most days she can stand to look at in the mirror, with Frankie at her side. And somehow it all builds to Grace, standing on the beach, waves crashing beside them and the surf inching closer and closer to their feet, holding Frankie close, calling her a best friend, a partner, telling her that she needs her. And there’s nothing simple about that need. There are no straightforward lines where Frankie can do x or be y to fulfill z. It’s a need mingled with pangs of annoyance and frustration and anger but wrapped up in what Grace is finally realizing is love, and somehow that outweighs everything else, makes it simple even when it’s not. “I need you,” Grace repeats, blinking back tears that make Frankie look blurry, even now when she’s only inches away.

“Oh, I need you too.” Frankie falls into her arms with the words, holds her tight, the last vestiges of their fight falling away the longer they stay like that. “So, let’s go home.”

A sentimental part of Grace that rarely rears its head, and even more rarely gets anything out, wants to say that she’s already there. Instead she blurts out, “Nick asked me to marry him.” In an instant, all the happiness and love in Frankie’s expression is clouded over with hurt. “I—we’re not.”

“Not getting married?”

“Not getting married. Not together.” A deep breath. “He felt like he was always competing with you. Competing and losing.” Frankie’s usual taunts about beating Nick in any way are absent. She looks cautious, and Grace wonders if the same fragile hope is demanding shelter from her too. “Maybe he’s right.”

The quiet maybe isn’t enough to bring Frankie back to that joyous openness—not after she’s put back up those walls so few people realize she has in the face of all the pain Grace’s declaration had been poised to deliver.

This will never be simple, and Frankie will never be Robert, assuming Grace will say yes because it follows logically. She will never be Nick, convinced so deeply of her own charms that she’ll put her heart on the line in matters of love without a moment’s hesitation. Despite the “fuck it” lifestyle, she will never be Byron, desire plainly written in every move.

But, Grace realizes with a jolt, she can be that for Frankie, can let her see everything she’s offering—no jokes or questions about it.

Grace steps forward, closes the distance that had pulled them apart again. Her hands find Frankie’s arms first, one coming up to hold her jaw, thumb sweeping across her cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.” A kiss to the forehead, like Frankie had asked for all those years ago, only to have Grace deny her in a moment of panic about why—dear god, why—the thought of pressing her lips to any part of Frankie had sent her heart pounding. Then Frankie’s cheeks, one after the other. Grace pauses, waiting, centimeters away from Frankie’s mouth. “I promise,” she whispers again, the words ghosting across Frankie’s lips. Her eyes flutter shut as she leans forward, her mouth finding Frankie’s. Just one kiss. One sealed promise. One hint of what might be waiting for them.

When she pulls back, she finds Frankie blinking at her. Everything is still and silent for a long moment.

Frankie’s hand reaches out, tangling around her own. “Let’s go home.”

[holylangdon]

The Michael Thing For Kyra (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Request: @cupkayyyke wanting something soft so here it is

Warnings: Sub-ish!Michael, maybe OOC Michael, relationship vibes

Word Count: 505

A/N: Thanks for the title @binxee

Michael sighed lightly, unlocking the heavy door to your room. He was surprised to find you asleep on your bed, tucked neatly underneath the covers this late in the evening. Usually you stayed up a while to wait for his nightly visit, but not tonight. He wasn't offended, or hurt by it. In fact, he took it an an opportunity to get what he most secretly craved.

He couldn't help but smile softly as he watched you from the doorway. He slid off his sandals and placed them carefully by the bed, his coat resting on the desk. Michael took extreme caution as he climbed under the covers with you. The last thing he wanted to do was wake you as he curled his body into yours. He must've looked like a deer in headlights when your arm laid across his torso, a light sound coming from you.

"Hey," You whispered. "are you staying?"

"Yeah. I didn't mean to wake you up." He laughed, pulling the blanket over his body. You planted a small kiss to the back of his head, which made him grin.  

"You didn't." You voice was music to his ears as you spoke. "I promise, baby."

It felt like heaven to him as you adjusted yourself to account for his height. Michael was usually the big spoon, purely because he enjoyed the way you felt pressed up against him. Not even in a sexual way, really. He liked the dependance, the simplicity of having his beautiful girl in his arms. God, he loved it. He'd never, ever admit it out loud to anyone other than you, but he absolutely loved it. It had to be his favorite thing in the world, letting all of his stress and worries fade away for a little while.

No more words were spoken between the two of you as you snuggled close to each other. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand locked into his. The moment was unintentionally romantic, you'd admit. Soft candlelight was the only thing illuminating your lover's features, and the bitter cold air was thwarted by the warmth that the two of you had created.

"What happens if we get caught?" You asked him lightly, nervousness apparent in your voice. He pressed his lips against the back of your hand.

"I make it disappear." His tone was loving, but his words nearly sent a chill down your spine. Could he really do that? Did he really have that much power? You were sure of it, but the thought was surreal. "But you shouldn't worry about things like that. Let me take care of it, okay?"

And you trusted him. In that moment, neither of you cared about what was happening on the radiated outside. Hell, neither of you even cared about what was happening outside of that very room, not a single fuck given about the rest of the Outpost. The world revolved around the two of you as you fell asleep together, and that was that.