#and everyone's incredible feedback just makes me tender and even more excited to write

[themeraldee]

Just finished the new plate of Michelin star food you served up- and the whole homelander “making you feel like now one will satisfy you again” makes me thing of kieran valentine from monster high. Bro is stealing hearts and the girls will never be the same afterwards. The endless search to get that feeling again EUGHHH

omg you guys are so sweet to me 😭😭😭 michelin star!!! I weep and sob and cry at every kind word y'all imprint into my soul

Oh my I love that comparison! If it wouldn't kill you Homelander would bury his hands in your chest and cradle your heart stroking it softly as it beats for him. Alas, he'll have to satisfy himself with pressing his fingers to your pulse 😆

I love that this idea works both to highlight his planet-sized ego bcs of course there's never gonna be anyone better than him but also the need for love and approval and that undying connection. Because, there's never gonna be anyone better than him, right? You promise??

But yeah if you survive and move on from the whirlwind that is a relationship with homelander (good luck) nothing will ever feel the same

[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II

Part I If you haven't read it

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany

A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.

Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.

The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.

I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.

Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Much love, everyone.

Now. The morning after graduation.

It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.

You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.

They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.

The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.

Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.

You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.

Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.

You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.

You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.

Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.

San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.

Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.

Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.

But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.

But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.

He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.

You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.

Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.

From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.

Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.

You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.

You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.

If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.

You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.

The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".

It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.

"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.

Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.

"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I  promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.

He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.

"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.

The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way. 

"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.

"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."

"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.

"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?

"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.

"We want to take care of you, baby."

And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.

They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.

"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."

"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.

"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.

"We'll look after you, chagi."

That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.

"Choi San, come back at once!"

You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.

"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.

"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.

Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.

"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.

You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.

It's all too easy to fall in love with him.

He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.

You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.

"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."

Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.

Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.

"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."

"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.

The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.

"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.

There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.

Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?

He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.

You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.

Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.

"Where`s San?" He asks you.

The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.

"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."

"Good."

What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run. 

"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.

His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.

The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"

He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.

They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.

Screw it.

You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit. 

"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."

"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.

A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.

"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.

As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.

The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.

His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."

You're done for.

"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."

He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.

Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.

You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.

"P-please…"

His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…

O MY GOD.

Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.

"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.

"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."

He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.

And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.

Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.

His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.

Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.

"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.

"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.

You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.

A real girl's dinner.

What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?

"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.

"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."

Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.

The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.

You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.

You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?

Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.

There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.

And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.

Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.

In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.

"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.

Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.

"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.

The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.

Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.

"Oh, my God, boys."

"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.

"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.

You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.

The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.

"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.

It feels so good.

San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.

"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."

Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.

You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.

His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.

"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.

San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.

"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.

And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.

A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.

"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.

"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.

His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.

"The taste is so damn good."

You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.

Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.

"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.

It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.

The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.

"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.

"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.

"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.

He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.

It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."

This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.

"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.

"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.

You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.

"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."

"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.

He's going to tear you apart.

"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.

It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.

They had blown your brains out.

"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.

"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"

San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.

Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.

"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."

You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.

In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.

He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.

You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.

"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.

"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."

You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.

You look fucked.

"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."

It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?

All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.

"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."

For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.

"Okay."

You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.

You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.

You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!

"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.

"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."

You still don't want to join the conversation.

A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.

With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?

Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.

[welcometololaland]

I'm just in the middle of reading your Seven Ways Back to You series and I needed to write down a little of my feels. I cannot really put into words how much I love it but here it goes: there are few fics that make my happy single life shake a bit because the writing is so good it makes me long to love and be loved like the characters are someone writes. Does that make sense? Usually fics make me go: awwwwww instead of: I WANT THIS. And your fic makes me want to love this deeply because you write it so so tender and careful and achingly vulnerable. So many sentences make me stop and catch my breath. You have such a way of making TK and Carlos feel like real characters, it's incredible. You really have a grip on them. Your dialogues in general are just chef's kiss. I swear you could make them talk about soap, the weather and chucking wood and I'd be like: INTERESTING. tell me more! The scenes in the bathroom with Carlos carrying him and washing him? With him running his hands through TK's dirty hair? The near kiss? The hang out with Nancy? URGH. One of my favorite series and I'm not even finished. Lots of possibly incoherent rambling but I just needed to say it <3 Happy Weekend!

Thank you! I really appreciate the feedback ❤️ you know, I think I made a comment the other day to someone about not writing codas before I realised I'm a filthy liar who lies and I've written nine codas just for push 😂 seriously, I need a new hobby.

I really loved writing Seven Ways as a series. I wrote it over a series of long bus, train and plane trips and it was a great distraction! I never intended it to be that long but - as pretty much everyone who knows a single thing about me can attest - I lost control somewhere and never got it back.

Thank you again and I have to say I'm super excited to read Danger Zone - it's been taunting me for weeks now! I know I'm gonna get addicted ❤️

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

[zandracourt]

I’ve been reflecting a lot on Cas’ recent confession of love and the responses I’ve been seeing across tumblr and Twitter. As a Destiel fic writer, I am thrilled to see this become canon and as a queer woman, also really touched to see how much Misha has embraced this as a really significant thing. I already ordered my Only Love merch. So I’m content with it all as much as it is. SPN has never made queer representation its issue. SPN *has* responded to its fanbase, who have both pushed the importance of representation and also brought the actors into a realm of growth over queer issues that they may never have come to without this show and this fandom. For that reason, I don’t think it’s helpful to be mad at Jensen or the Showrunners for Destiel not being perfect. You don’t have to celebrate them as allies, but the anger and vitriol just doesn’t help, in my opinion.

BUT...where my thoughts have been going is around what it means to be an actor in a ‘ship and what the impact of the story has on the actors, the fandom, and the constant dance of who controls the story because I think this has been something that even with straight characters has had serious impacts on how fans feel about an ending.

My first fandom, Starsky & Hutch, was mostly written by a gay man who wrote “straight” characters because that was what they had to be in 1974. The characters and show plots were such that the actors felt the love underneath the words and acted accordingly. Back then, it wasn’t so much queer baiting as queer coding. I find it amazing that my parents never thought for a minute Starsky and Hutch were gay, but even as a 7 year old, I knew they were in love and saw them that way. And anyone who watches the show now, it’s so clear that it’s almost laughable. When their show won the Peopel’s Choice award in 1977, David Soul said in his acceptance speech that the best part of being on this show was that people saw two men who “could be anything”. He knew that queer folk read their characters as gay and that straight folks saw them as straight and he was happy for both to be true. While the show never had an explicitly romantic declaration, the characters held hands, hugged, and in the final episode, their final scene is Hutch crawling into Starsky’s hospital bed with him, something done with amusement, but was completely coded to mean something else. It was never “canon”, but the ‘ship has lasted 46 years with new fic being written even now.

In the new SW films, actor Oscar Isaac was not at all quiet about his feelings that his character, Poe Dameron, was in love with Finn. He stated he played him that way (and was not directed otherwise) and he even explicitly asked for that ship to be made canon. He was told no and that is not how the story ended. The romance plot was instead focused on two other characters. Some fans liked that. Many didn’t. In general, though, the story is open-ended enough that shippers could have Stormpilot be their ship and there is nothing that really contradicts that. In that scenario, Oscar had his sense of who this character was and felt strongly about that, but in the end, it wasn’t his story, so the ending was what it was.

Hawai’i Five-0 ended its 10 year run last spring. Actor Scott Caan said in an interview during the show’s 5-year mark that he wanted to see his charcter have a romantic story line with his other lead, Steve McGarrett. And while Scott did not go so far as Oscar Isaac did to say he made his acting choices based on that, watching him and Alex play their characters, there was definitely some intention to show their characters as loving one another. Actor Alex O’Loughlin voiced a few times over the years that he felt his character would not get back together with Catherine, a woman his character was on-again, off-again with, because he felt Steve had reached his limit with what Catherine had done to him. The series made a decision to end with Steve leaving Hawai’i behind and flying away with Catherine. Neither actor has commented much about the show’s ending, but clearly it went against what both actors had publicly expressed in the past. Again, they don’t control the story, but they do understand their characters after playing them for so many years and they are invested in that. In that sense, the actor’s subsequent silence about how the show ended says quite a bit. And McDanno fans were very unsatisfied with the show’s ending, myself included.

So we come to Destiel. Over the years, this ship has been very controversial in part because one actor (Misha) has clearly been OK with his character being perceived as being in love with Dean, while the other actor (Jensen) has not. At times he has been very negative about it, and that has been taken by some fans to imply how Jensen feels about homosexuality in general. I’m not convinced it does, but I understand why people feel that way. Over the 12 years since Cas’ introduction on the show, there clearly has been a shift from the writers and showrunners avoiding the topic entirely, to talking about it, and now to having Cas confess his feelings of love to Dean in canon. In the days since, Misha has been unequivocal in saying Cas is romantically in love with Dean and that he has played him that way, at least for this season and likely longer. Misha is proud that he was able to advocate for Cas to be gay and he clearly understands why it is important for the show to have made this choice. For Jensen’s part, however, he has stated he has not played Dean that way and from video clips of him talking about the show’s ending, it appears that he needed some convincing to accept this as the story. To his credit though, once he was convinced that this was something show creator (Eric Kripke) could envision as part of Dean’s character arc, he was on-board with this ending and feels statisfied with it. And I think some of the frustration folks feel stems from both in how the actors portrayed their characters and in which takes were chosen to be in the final cuts of episodes. In that way, the show has fed this ship, whether the actors realized it or not, and that is why Destiel has felt particularly painful at times. The fanbase has been gaslighted for seeing it at all (from actors and showrunners) while the directors have seemed to go out of their way to choose shots where the actor’s choices were more tender and affectionate and write lines where characters make explicit statements about Dean and Cas as romantic. I can’t help but wonder if Jensen really didn’t see Dean as being in love with Cas, but that we saw Jensen’s own affinity for Misha bleed through in their incredible chemsitry together or if Jensen has just been in denial of this ‘ship having teeth for his own personal reasons. I don’t know and so far, he hasn’t been willing to talk about that. Maybe he will once it’s over. Maybe he won’t and I’m not going to be angry with him for it. He’s an incredible actor and he’s lived this character for 15 years, so he has a right to who he believed Dean is and isn’t.

The issues of representation continue to be pressing and what I see happening with Destiel and these other ‘ships is exciting because it shows growth on all sides. We have audiences able to voice not only how they perceive characters without shame but can express a desire for characters to be together. None of that is new for straight characters, but it is for queer characters. We have actors who not only can see these same things, but feel enough ownership of their characters to expresss what they believe their characters would do or feel. And we have showrunners who are going to make their story, sometimes in response to feedback from their fans and actors, and sometimes in spite of it.

What Destiel becoming canon gives me hope for is that as new shows come into being, characters that take off, actors who have unexpected chemistry, and ‘ships that gain a life of their own, will lead to shows that are less inclined to care if those ships are queer or not and just go with what fans respond to. That it will normalize that people can (and do) come out an all different times of life, even after being het-married, having kids, or presenting as straight to everyone else for 40 years. That it will reflect that sometimes, it’s not about having been queer or straight from the beginning, but be about that ONE relationship that just is different, special, or grows into a deep love regardless of the genders of the people. I hope we can get to a place where deep intimacy between same-gender characters doesn’t have to be a war over romance vs. platonic and the story can just develop without the pressure of representation because queer characters will be so prevalent that we don’t have to feel like we must cling so tightly to every one we get. I hope we can come to a place where sometimes relationships don’t go romantic because one person (regardless of gender) just doesn’t feel that way, because that is very fucking true in real life. I want to watch shows where the sexual identity of any character doesn’t have to be etched in stone from the word go, never to change ever because that’s boring and limiting, and honestly, not real life.

I am deeply grateful for actors like Isaac, Caan, and Collins who are willing to see characters outside the heteronormative lens and to advocate for queer romantic arcs. I’m thankful to showrunners who are making shows with greater queer representation than ever before. And I’m grateful to actors like Ackles, who while it wasn’t who he thought his character was, was able to expand his view enough to go where the story was going to go. The arc of the universe does bend towards justice, and we will get there. Until then, there’s fic. And thank God for that.

[lovemademoisellebelle]

Uh oh... did we do that?

Pairing: Draco x y/n

Warnings: underage drinking, mild swearing

A/N: been reading and writing fan fiction for years but I've never uploaded any of my own work, so please be nice! any feedback is highly appreciated. P.S. this sounded and looked a lot better in my head 

inspired by Emma Watson dancing in The Bling Ring, endless amounts of videos on DracoTok and the vibes that 212 by Azealia Banks gives me

Slytherin common room party – think low-key green lighting, firewhiskey, Draco in an all-black suit that kinda thing 

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

In the hundreds of years since Hogwarts’s conception, not once have the Slytherin house hosted an ‘all houses invited’ party. Sure, they were invited (and rarely came) to the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor parties, but they never thought to return the favour. That is until Pansy’s raging crush on a Ravenclaw boy in the year above prompted her to throw an all-inclusive rager, much to the dismay of her Slytherin classmates.  

Naturally, this caused some concern from the other houses, as the new spread around the Great Hall the morning of the so-called ‘unmissable’ event. There was a palpable buzz of deliberation from the separate tables, with the clearly same queries on everyone’s minds.

“I don’t know Ron – I mean, these are the Slytherin’s we’re talking about,” Hermione cast a furtive glance to the sea of emerald robes on the far side of the hall, much to Ron’s dismay.

“Oh come on ‘Mione, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Oh I don’t know, how about humiliation from Malfoy’s smug face when we realise it’s a prank, or maybe a fight where irreversible hexes are thrown around?” Harry quipped, clearly sharing Hermione’s caution.

Ron and y/n shared a knowing look, both being the more carefree members of the group.

“Here’s an idea,” y/n explained rationally, “how about we just show up anyway – fashionably late, of course – and if the whole thing turns out to be some big joke, we can host our own impromptu party in the common room? That way it won’t be a complete waste of time… or alcohol.”

It was Harry and Hermione’s turn to share a look, knowing no matter how hard they tried they were inevitably going to give in eventually.

“Fine,” Hermione grumbled, “but if it all turns pear shaped, I’m sending you both to the hospital wing with a nasty bat bogey hex.

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

The much-awaited night had finally rolled around, and y/n felt that nervous but excited anticipation that she often felt before occasions such as tonight’s. All day the latest gossip of the party could be heard between the older Hogwarts’s students. At one point, Madame Pince had to usher around 20 students out of the library for whispering ‘too loudly’ about the event. Multiple classmates had come up to y/n throughout the day, all asking the same question: ‘Are you thinking of going tonight?’ As usual with Hogwarts, news never failed to travel fast.

“Are you sure this looks ok?” Hermione twisted her hips side to side in the dorm’s full-length mirror, trying to discern if the length of her skirt showed to much leg or not.

“’Mione, are you kidding? You look incredible, seriously. Ron’s gonna flip when he sees you, won’t be able to take his eyes off your a-” y/n’s sentence was cut short by a well-timed pillow being tossed at her head by Hermione, who had started to form a pink blush across her cheeks.

With both of them re-checking your outfits and makeup in the mirror, y/n and Hermione did a quick, pre-party shot for luck and headed down to the common room to meet the boys.

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

By the time they had arrived at the Slytherin common room, the party was already in full swing; couples were spotted around the corridor outside, claiming to ‘need some air’ whilst making out against the stone walls, and the pungent smell of firewhiskey with a slight cut of something sweeter (butterbeer?) hit them like a brick wall as the group entered. The room was encased in dark green lighting, highlighted by the murky lake shimmering some light into the otherwise darkened room.

It seemed as if almost every student – 5th year and above – were present, either seen dancing and grinding on the makeshift dancefloor at the back, loitering around the drinks table in search of another drink or, if you were Pansy Parkinson, sat on one of the plush sofas on the lap of a Ravenclaw boy, who looked equal parts satisfised and confused about his current situation.

Either way most people were already fucked, or at least on their way.

“What were you saying earlier about a prank Hermione?” Ron smirked smugly, as he grabbed her hand and pushed his way over to the drinks table with a blushing Hermione trailing after.

Y/n couldn’t help but think, maybe tonight will be fun after all.

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

An hour later, and y/n could definitely feel the numb tingling of the firewhiskey spread throughout her body, offering a pleasant release from the previous week’s stress. Though not yet brave enough to venture onto the dancefloor, she swayed her hips lightly to the music as she chatted happily with Luna in the corner – apparently the Ministry were behind the recent surge of wrackspurts in the air, using them to control our minds.

“Well well, if it isn’t Weaslebee and Scar-head polluting my common room,” a little ways across the room however, Ron and Harry were having less of a pleasant time.

Turning around to see the towering, slender figure of Draco Malfoy with his signature smugness, flanked by his usual cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Stood tall in his black turtleneck and blazer combo, with his platinum hair perfectly styled (of course), Draco was unsurprisingly catching the attention of most of the girls (and a fair amount of guys) in the room. Wherever he moved, eager eyes tended to follow, with the hope of him glancing their way. Harry and Ron, however, were unfazed.

“Malfoy,” Harry briefly and glumly acknowledged Draco with the turn of his head, before turning back to people watch.

“You know, I’ve always heard that Gryffindor parties are supposed to be some of the best,” Draco taunted, “but I have to say your lot seem pretty boring to me. I mean, I thought you were supposed to be the ‘fun ones’”. Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind him, always quick to boost his ego.

“This is nothing,” Ron countered, the alcohol only intensifying his competitive nature, “you should see the way y/n and Hermione get when that bloody muggle song of theirs plays – they go mad.”

“Yeah right,” the blonde scoffed, “they’re both too stuck up to ever actually have fun.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll prove it to you!”

“C’mon Ron, let’s just leave it-”

“No Harry, there’s no way I’m losing this argument. Oi Lee,” Ron hollered to Lee Jordan, the trusted DJ at every Hogwarts party, “put on that song – you know – that one muggle song… can’t remember the bloody name now,” Ron started to trail off.

Luckily, Lee was able to decipher Ron’s drunk slurs, “You got it Ron.”

As soon as the first few beats thumped out of the speakers, y/n let out a squeal of joy. Searching for Hermione, they caught eyes from across the room and both knew what they had to do; meet on the dancefloor between them and let loose. Both being muggle born, the two girls shared a love of muggle music that their magical born friends didn’t. It bonded them when they first became friends and now had influenced even those who weren’t muggle born to enjoy it too.

As the beat dropped, the girls started to dance. Bopping their heads from side to side, they swung their hips in time with the music. With her back to Hermione’s chest, y/n let her head roll back onto her friends’ shoulder as they drunkenly laughed for no apparent reason. Y/n’s black mini dress had begun to ride up her thighs slightly, meanwhile her hips continued to roll and grind suggestively – neither girls remotely aware of anyone around them, nor the shock of particularly their Slytherin classmates, who weren’t used to seeing this side of them.

Especially not Draco Malfoy, his jaw slack as his eyes were entranced in the girl’s direction.

“Uh oh,” Harry teased, “looks like Malfoy’s got his eyes on your girlfriend.”

“Um Harry,” Ron stared at Draco’s face in disbelief, with a slight hint of amusement, “it’s not ‘Mione he’s looking at.”

Unaware of the intense gaze from her long-time enemy Draco Malfoy, y/n continued to dance seductively.

Draco’s initial expression of shock had now turned into his signature grin, his icy blue-grey eyes trailing over y/n’s curves. His eyes expressed admiration (something rare for someone who usually showed distain for almost everything) and apparent attraction for the girl. His head filled with lewd thoughts as he yearned to know more about her – until now he thought he’d had her sussed, but now he started to question his good-girl perception of her. His hand rubbing at his jaw slightly, completely entranced by every swing of her hips.

“Godric, he’s looking at her as if he’s in love with her,” Harry uttered, entirely bewildered by the look on Malfoy’s face – it was a look of attraction and almost tenderness that was starting to scare him.

Ron brought a hand up to his forehead, “Uh oh… did we do that?”

hey, if you managed to get all the way to the end, thank u sm!! any feedback is appreciated. I have an idea for part 2 if anyone wants that :) 

[liebegott]

24 Hours in Paris. | Carwood Lipton

for that one anon who requested a “one bed situation” 

(click here to read on wattpad)

feel free to send me a request!

pairing: lipton x reader

wc: 2.4k

synopsis: after taking carentan, you and lipton are sent to paris for a break

a/n: this one is so incredibly long and was hard for me to write. i’m not sure if i did our dear lipton any justice. any feedback is much appreciated! thank you so much for reading.

i mean no disrespect to the real carwood lipton. this is all purely based on donnie wahlberg’s portrayal of him in band of brothers.

tagging: @floydtab​ @alienoresimagines​ @order-of-river-phoenix​ @julianneday1701​ @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​ @wexhappyxfew​ @rarmiitage​ @mavysnavy​

***

A blanket around your shaking figure, you wrapped your hands tighter around your cup of cold coffee. It wasn’t cold when Doc Roe had handed it to you minutes earlier, but you had barely taken a sip when the cold weather made it lukewarm. You sat with your back turned to everyone, except for Private Blithe, who was seated on the floor in front of you. He had said he couldn’t see, so you watched him curiously. Lieutenant Winters suddenly walked in, and you stood quickly, but he quickly nodded his head before you could even salute him, so you sat back down slowly.

As Doc Roe tended to his wounds, you heard the two men talking. “What’s wrong with Blithe?” Lt. Winters asked, looking at the man seated in the corner.

“Well,” Doc Roe started, turning to face him as well, “Nothing, except he can’t see.”

“He can’t see?” Lt. Winters exclaimed, before turning to face me, “What about Y/L/N?”

Doc Roe sighed and shook his head, “She said she was fine but she won’t stop trembling. Had to raise my voice at her to get her to slow down.”

Winters raised an eyebrow at this and nodded, leaving Doc Roe to tend to his leg.

***

“Sergeant Lipton, Private Y/L/N,” Perconte called, and the both of you looked up from what you were doing, “Lieutenant Winters wants to see the two of you.”

You, now that you were feeling a lot better, and Carwood Lipton, now bearing a scar on his face, were tending to other injured soldiers once Doc Roe had gotten the two of you sorted out. Carwood was a quiet man off the battlefield, but when the bullets had started flying, almost every man would eventually turn to him. Being the only woman in the paratroopers, you were accustomed to hostility from other company men, but Sergeant Lipton always assured you that he and all the other Easy men were right behind you.

The two of you glanced at each other before picking up your gear and heading towards Lt. Winters. “What do you think this is about?” Carwood asked, looking down at you as you put back on your helmet.

You simply shrugged, and looked right up at the taller man, “No clue, Sergeant. But he was in the aid station getting his leg bandaged up. Maybe he needs help with something, sir.”

Their Lieutenant had his back to you, and he was lost in thought, staring off at the city they had just besieged. “Lieutenant Winters, sir.” Sergeant Lipton called, and you both stood at attention, raising your hands into a salute.

“At ease,” he replied calmly. “Sergeant Lipton, Private Y/L/N,” Winters continued, acknowledging the both of you, “It was recommended by one of the medics that you two be given a break.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked up at Lipton, who also had confusion painted on his face. “Sir?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m sending the two of you to Paris,” Winters said, flashing a kind smile, “It’s for the best of the entire company, Lip.” He said the last sentence gently, placing a hand on Carwood’s shoulder.

“The city of lights,” Winters mumbled, raising two of his fingers into quotation marks, excusing the both of you. “Get some rest and be back within 48 hours.”

***

You had your head buried in a book, but your eyebrows were scrunched in frustration, unable to focus on what you were reading. Carwood was across you, his chin rested on his hand, and he stared out the window, watching as the trees flew by. “Sir?” you called, getting his attention. He turned to face you and raised his eyebrows, “I’m trying to read, sir. But taking me away from everything has only made me more anxious.”

“First,” he smiled, “You don’t have to call me sir for now. Second, I know exactly what you mean.” Carwood looked you in the eye and sighed, “But if Winters says it’s what’s best for all of them, then we go to Paris.”

Nodding your head, you turned back to your book, and the two of you sat quietly till you reached Paris. The silence between you was not uncomfortable. Carwood was an intelligent man with a kind heart, and you were sure he was as worried about his absence even more so than you were worried about yours. All the men, and yourself looked up to him for guidance when Winters was not around.

As the train stopped at the railway station, you turned to pick up your bag when you realized it was gone. “Shit,” you muttered, standing quickly to see someone else’s bag on the ground where your had been previously, “Someone confused their stuff for mine.”

Carwood’s eyes widened, making sure he had heard you right. Quickly picking up his stuff, the two of you looked around at the people exiting the train till your eyes spotted it. “There!” he exclaimed, weaving his way through the hoards of people who had just arrived in Paris. You stumbled out of the train, bumping into a few people who scowled in your direction.

You apologized to nearly everyone you two had bumped on your way as Carwood rushed towards the man. Nearly tripping, you balanced yourself by spreading your arms forward, mumbling a quick désolé to everyone in your path. Other than angry grunts and curses, nobody did anything further as the two of you were in your uniform.

You saw Carwood place a firm hand on the man’s shoulder, the young man turning to face him with wide eyes, terrified. Panting, he pointed at the man’s bag and the man’s mouth fell agape, smacking his forehead with his hand and switching your bag with his that Carwood had been carrying.

You breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the man profusely, you turned to Carwood, who despite breaking a sweat, had a smile plastered on his face. “That was exciting,” he grinned, tilting his head towards the exit, “Calmed my nerves a little bit. Should we go get lunch?” And that was the end of it.

“Lip,” you said, smiling up at him, “Thank you so much for going after him.” He barely looked your way as he replied.

“Anytime, Y/N.”

***

The two of you sat in a cafe. Carwood was busy writing down something into his notebook, occasionally glancing up to see you heartily eating your sandwich. His food remained untouched. “You’re not going to eat?” you asked him, nodding towards his plate, “It’s probably cold by now.”

“Can’t,” he mumbled, still writing stuff down into his leather notebook, “I’m writing down what had happened in Carentan, for documentation of course.” Carwood tapped his temple with his pen. You shrugged and picked up your mug of coffee. You were surrounded by many other soldiers who were also sent to Paris for break. It was common for them to come in groups, unlike the two of you who only came in a pair.

You lifted your cup to take a sip, when suddenly, a waiter carrying a tray of food bumped into your back, causing you to spill the contents of your mug all over yourself. Cursing to yourself for the second time of the day, you stood, haphazardly placing the mug on the table. Carwood looked up at you and grabbed a napkin, slowly dabbing at your coat as best as he could. He helped you take it off, and you looked down at your stained shirt.

“Aw, shit,” you grumbled, your white shirt stained brown. The waiter apologized, offering to get you more coffee and more napkins. You brushed him off, but Carwood smiled at him and graciously accepted the man’s offers, calming the waiter down. You watched him, amazed and how calmly he handled the situation while you had stood there fuming the entire time.

“We can get that cleaned,” he said, smiling at you, “Lucky we caught up to that man earlier so you’d have a spare uniform to wear.”

***

As though the day couldn’t have gotten any worse, you were anxious. They were setting off fireworks in the streets, putting you on edge. You and Carwood stood, waiting for a cab to take the two of you to your hotel. Every time a firework set off, you trembled, your eyes darting everywhere. Doc Roe had scolded you to stay away from everything for awhile and to get some rest— But now, in the heart of Paris, as far away from the fight as you could possibly be, you felt like you were in the middle of it.

Another one set off, and you braced yourself on Lipton’s side. The man quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, rubbing it gently. “We’re in Paris,” he whispered in your ear, “Breathe. We’re in Paris.” That seemed to calm you down a bit, and you shook your head quickly, closing your eyes.

You hadn’t realized it, but Carwood had helped you into a cab and continued to have his arm wrapped around you on your way to the hotel. “You know, Y/N,” he began, turning to face you, “You impress me a lot.” There was no sarcasm painted on his face, you were unsure if he was even capable of being anything but kind.

“Being the only woman in the entire army must be stressful,” Carwood continued, handing you a bottle of water he had taken out of his bag, “But you’re so much stronger than I think I’ll ever be.” You jut out your bottom lip in a pout and shook your head quickly, the dimly lit cab giving you more courage than you’d normally have.

“That’s not true, Lip,” you replied, placing a tender hand on his hand, “You’re incredibly brave, and dependable as well. We all look up to you, you know.” Carwood seemed to have softened at this, and leaned back in his seat.

“I’ve just been worried,” he replied, looking out the car window, “That I might let the men down. There must be a reason Dick sent us off, right?”

You were silent at first, before shrugging and tipping his chin to face you once more, “Maybe he just saw how well you took care of the men, he decided you had to take care of yourself too.”

Carwood bit his lip and nodded.

***

The hotel lights were bright yellow, much alike the lights all around Paris. It had been so long since you had stepped foot into a building so beautiful. As you and Carwood made your way to the room assigned to you, you trudged behind him, thinking about how this break was everything but that. You were anxious, dirty, and more tired than you were before you had gotten here.

He unlocked the door, turning on the lights as he stepped inside. Dragging your bag on the ground, you were closing the door behind you when you heard him inhale sharply. You turned to see something that might have made your day a thousand times worse. A blush crept on your cheeks and you muttered, yet again, the third curse of the day.

One bed.

“They must’ve saw the names and thought we were a couple,” Carwood said simply, ignoring the redness of your face, “Don’t worry, I’ll call up the front desk and arrange something.”

You sighed, sitting yourself on the bed as he phoned the receptionist. He fumbled around, trying his best to communicate in broken French. You were all only taught how to say a few words, most only used while in combat.

Carwood ran a hand through his hair, messing up the gel. He was frustrated, you thought to yourself, for the first time today.

He slammed the phone down and his shoulders dropped. Turning to you, he said, “So I can’t speak French.” You let out a quiet laugh, and he chuckled as well, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“This day couldn’t get any worse, huh?” you said, watching him set blankets on the floor for him to lie on. Carwood stayed quiet.

That night, as the two of you lay quietly, you realized you couldn’t sleep.

“Lip?” you said, hoping the man was still awake. He grunted in response. “I need to say something.”

You heard him move on the floor, and his head peeked up from the end of your bed. “Is something wrong?”

“I wanna thank you,” you said, sitting up as well and pulling your knees to your chest, “For being so patient and kind with me today.”

He squinted, shaking his head, “It was nothing, Y/N.”

“No, sir. It was,” you quickly interrupted, whispering, “I’m scared, Lip.”

“We all are, Y/N,” he said, rising up to sit beside you, “But we’re all proud of you for being so brave.”

You both sat there, the moon shining through the hotel window. “You’re a good leader, Carwood.” you said, and he turned to face you, a sad smile on his face.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

***

The sun shone through the curtains, nearly blinding you. Your hair was messed up, all spikes on your head. You stretched as your eyes adjusted to the light. Suddenly, you heard a snore, seeing your 1st sergeant in bed beside you.

Your eyes big, you sat up quickly, rousing him from his sleep. “Y/N?” he asked, looking at you hugging the blanket over your chest. “We must’ve fallen asleep,” he plainly said, running a hand over his face.

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” you said, chiding yourself in your head. You were in bed with Carwood, and you looked like a mess.

“What a great break this has been, huh?” he let out a laugh, and soon you were laughing along with him as well because of how awkward the situation was. “How about this, Y/N? When this is all over, I take you around Paris for real?”

You grinned, shutting your eyes and shaking your head. “I’d love that, as long as you promise to never speak of the past 24 hours to anyone.”

“I wouldn’t even dare.”

[until-we-fall-in-love]

Ingénue: Chapter Three

-Read Chapter Two-

Ingénue Masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, in later chapters Sam Wilson x Reader, Natasha Romanov x Reader, and Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You take a job as a showgirl in an illegal speakeasy owned by two of the most notorious mobsters of New York City in 1921. Caught up in the glamor and mystique, you go spiraling into a world a little more dangerous than you had originally thought. 1920s AU.

In this chapter, your relationship with Steve and Bucky develops. Natasha keeps a close eye on you. 

Warnings: Smut, cursing, in later chapter there will be violence.

A/N: hello everyone!! thank you all for the kind comments and feedback about this story! i have a lot of fun writing this series and it makes it even better to know others are enjoying it, too! this chapter got a little long and mostly just smut and fluff but at the ending, we finally get into a little bit more plot. Or like....a hint of what might come. thank you for reading!! your comments mean a lot to me so please let me know what you thought of this chapter!

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You lean over the counter in front of the mirror, hips digging into the edge slightly as you adjust an earring that dangles prettily, catches and shimmers in the light of the dressing room. You are running slightly late for curtain call, simply because you’d been going over some changes to one of your solo songs while most of the girls got ready. You are left alone with the warm, perfumed air and your reflection in the mirror.

Heels click against the wood floors and your eyes dart at the sound, turning slightly to see Natasha striding towards you languidly. Her movements are easy, graceful, fluid; almost lazy, as if she knows she is the best in any room.

“I’ve been looking for you,” She begins, stepping nearer, coming to stand behind you. You look at her reflection in the mirror, your eyes catching and holding.

For some reason, it feels intimate, especially as she takes another step nearer. You feel warm beneath the hot bulbs above the mirror. You pretend to fix your earring again so you won’t meet her eyes.

“Is there something you need from me?” You ask lightly, your eyes focusing on a rhinestone in your earring.

She closes the distance, so she presses herself along the length of your back. A squeak of surprise gets caught in your throat as you straighten up slightly, but you’re pinned between her and the counter. Her body is soft and lean against you, unlike the hard lines of Bucky or Steve. You flush deeply and you shouldn’t feel a low swoop of excitement deep inside, but you do.

Her hand reaches around, tugs at the golden chain Steve had given you; the one with his ring dangling from it. Bucky had also added his when you’d seen him next and they chime and twinkle as they knock into one another as she lifts it from its resting place against your chest.

Her face is at the crook of your neck as she peers over your shoulder at the gold. “No.” She murmurs and you can almost feel her lips on the sensitive place at your jaw. Your fingers dig into the countertop. “But now that you wear this,” And her fingers nimbly slip down to toy with the two, sparkling rings at the end of it, “You’re under my protection.”

“Oh,” You exhale on a trembling breath, eyes fluttering, “F-from what?”

A sharp, wicked smirk touches her lips, nearly against your neck. “You really have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” She murmurs, pressing suddenly closer. “Surely, you understand that Bucky and Steve have enemies.”

“Well, I guess I knew I just didn’t--”

“Think of it?” Natasha asks, soft against your ear, but her eyes are focused on the rings around your neck still, expression suddenly less amused. “They don’t want to worry you.” Her free hand touches your waist, green eyes sharp, gutting you as you lock eyes in the mirror. You feel suddenly exposed as she gazes at your reflection, straight through it and into you. “But I think you should know considering there are already rumors.”

“What kind of rumors?” You ask and wish your voice could be stronger, but it's breathy and delicate. Your pulse is jumping, feeling like prey pinned by a predator, rabbit-heart pounding furiously in your chest and you aren’t sure if it’s excitement or fear for all the danger Natasha seems to promise.

 “Only that they’ve met a girl they’ve got a real soft spot for.” Natasha says, her own face softening a fraction, nose skimming along the line of your jaw and under the haze of her, you tilt your head and offer her more room. “Which, makes you a target.”

You blink, “A target?”

“Yes,” Natasha breathes, almost hisses, “Which is why I want you to stay near me.” She murmurs and her lips finally brush the barest hint against the vulnerable vein in your neck.

You gasp, soft and small.

“Can you do that?” She insists, voice lowering to something smooth and warm, almost domineering. Her lips suddenly settle into a gentle, sucking kiss at your pulse point.

 “Yes,” You get out, tipping your head back against her shoulder. You feel the skim of her teeth, the way in which it becomes harsher, more brutal.

She pulls away, lips hitching up into a sly smirk, her hand comes up to squeeze your jaw, forcing you to turn and face her now, your noses brushing. She holds your eyes, peers down at you until you cower a little against her. 

“Try not to worry too much.” She tells you, “I’ll look out for you, darling.” She then coos, almost teasingly, her fingers at your jaw squeezing so your lips pouted out a little before she drops you out of her hold and steps away. She slinks towards the door.

“You’re on in five.” She then adds over her shoulder, slipping out of the dressing room and disappearing as if she’d never even been there at all.

You blink back at your flushed face in the mirror, wondering what on earth had just happened. Steve’s words rattle around in your head, though;

You can trust them, too.

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The following day, Steve and Bucky swing by to pick you up from your apartment and spend an afternoon in the park and conservatory, beneath the honey rays of the sun and cotton blue and white sky.

It isn’t your first date as a trio, but you feel just as giddy for it.

You’re dressed in a linen-cream day dress, light fabric that falls around your figure and flutters in the early summer breeze. Lace traces the edges, along the short, loose sleeves and hem. White, dainty kitten heels and a pair of short, satin, white gloves fit over your hands. They had cost too much when you’d gotten them, but you’d been so enamored with the pearly fabric and delicate finish that you’d had to have them. A soft, robin’s egg blue hat adorns your head, a cream sash around it to match your dress quite spiffingly. Instead of a string of pearls that’s in fashion, the infamous golden chain which you have only come to remove while you shower or bathe, finishes off the simple outfit, their rings glinting in the sun against the skin of your chest.

Bucky greets you by taking quick steps, arms going around your waist as he lifts you clear off your feet and spins you.

A surprised laugh falls from your lips, carrying on the breeze, twinkling and light.

“You look like a movie star!” Bucky gushes, “A true starlet. Don’t you think, Stevie?” He asks into the crook of your neck, your hair brushing his cheeks and nose. Your magnolia, sweet jasmine scent, soft and mellow clary sage makes his head spin already.

Steve smiles fondly as he watches Bucky set you back down easily, steadying you, before he plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek in formal greeting, forcing out another giggle from you as you scrunch your nose.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “You look incredible as always, sweetheart.” He then says and leans close to plant a much sweeter kiss to your temple.

 “Thank you,” You murmur shyly, demurely peaking up at Steve and he has to fist his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing you by the back of your neck and crushing his lips to yours--

The drive to the park is simple and quick and you eagerly walk and strut along the paved trails beneath the patterned shadows and light that the trees cast on you through their leaves and reaching branches. You’re full of energy and vitality, a girl grown but still so new and fresh, the dew still clinging to you and sparkling.

Bucky and Steve trail behind you, watching you gush over flowers or hum to yourself, twirling to face them and say something witty and wonderful. They’re enraptured with you, Bucky more affectionate than Steve, chasing after your skirts as you squeal and laugh, his lips curving against your cheeks, the corner of your mouth. But Steve will drop his hand to the small of your back, against the line of your waist when you come near enough.

The fresh, strawberry-summer air is sweet and cleansing. It’s the perfect day to walk around outside, to step inside the tall, glass walls of a conservatory as the sun shines in on the exotic palms and flowers. The blue sky surrounds the sleek, clean glass, a background for the lush green of all the tropical plants within the massive greenhouse.

You’ve never seen anything so extraordinary; as if you’ve been transported right into the thick jungles of the rainforest, humid and tangled with emerald plants and their jeweled, bright flowers. There are even colorful, fluttering birds that squawk and chirp and soar over your head. Little peach parrots and yellow, blue, or green birds that hop from branch to branch.

“I love the birds,” You gush, face awash with awe and tenderness for the little creatures that playfully chase each other, your face tilted up to the skies to watch them.

The sun kisses your face, honeydew rays that caress you the way the men at your sides want to, fingers twitching; Steve would brush your hair from your cheek so it curled around your ear. Bucky would touch your bottom lip, run his thumb over it with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed until he’d met you.

“Want us to get you some?” Bucky asks, fingers reaching out and snagging your waist, pulling you into his axis and drawing you into his arms with your back pressed to his solid chest.

“Oh yes,” You laugh, thinking he’s joking, “Because they’ll do just wonderfully in my little apartment--”

Bucky noses at your neck, “Well, Steve and I have room at our--” He stops, pulling back slightly, his fingers coming up and brushing a spot on your neck, “Stevie, you make this mark?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Huh?” Steve starts, shifting to peer at your neck.

Heat overcomes you as you realize that Natasha must’ve left a love bite. Shame flurries through you, too. Fear settles deep into the pit of your stomach. Will they be upset? Have you ruined it all by allowing Natasha so close?

You whirl away from Bucky, turning to face him, hand going over the love bite on your neck to shield it from their gaze. Your heart hammers a little too hard.

“I didn’t-- it wasn’t--” You stammer, just as Bucky’s eyes get a little darker, “Natasha did it!” You suddenly burst, feeling your face go as red as some of the flowers that perfume the thick air around you.

Bucky barks out a laugh, much to your surprise.

“Oh,” Steve exhales.

Bucky approaches you again, snagging your wrist and forcing your hand away from your neck.

“She caught me off guard, is all. I didn’t--” You try to explain, eyes flickering up to him, to gauge his reaction as he studies the small, blossom red mark that was left on your neck by her. He takes your chin in his rough hand, tilting your head away slightly to further expose the line of your neck to him. You feel vulnerable, small, especially as Steve steps behind you, caging you in as his broad palms settle onto your waist.

“Did you like when she did that?” Bucky asks and you feel your breathing catch and stop from within your lungs.

You stare up at him, wide eyed, perhaps fearful. Was he testing you?

Yes, you want to say honestly, it’s Natasha, you think. With her curves and jade eyes, sly smile and low, lullaby voice that coaxes you into offering up your neck like sacrifice to those ruby lips. 

“I--” You start, stop.

Bucky then lifts your chin to catch your eyes. “Be honest, doll.” He says in a stern voice, just on the right side of domineering that has you practically melting into Steve’s chest.

You nod slightly, the shyest dipping of your chin as you gaze up at Bucky through your lashes. You feel half-mortified, wishing to hide, but being caught between them and feeling helpless.

It shouldn’t make you warm with arousal, but it does and now your breathing is quick, pupils dilating.

A slight, dark smirk touches Bucky’s lips. Almost wolfish and now you really do try to squirm away, but all you do is ease further into Steve’s arms and warm chest. Bucky crowds you further, dropping his hand from your chin and nosing his way along your neck. “Minx,” He calls you before his teeth nip, pinch, then settle into his own sucking kiss over the love bite.

You squeak, high and sharp, especially as the already tender skin of your neck is then bruised further by Bucky. His knee forces apart your legs and you whimper, undignified and desperate before Steve hushes you softly, whereas Bucky only seems encouraged by the noise, a rumbling growl escaping him as his lips and teeth at your neck do turn painful.

“Bucky,” Steve warns, but Bucky pays him no mind as his knee brushes your center, making you cry out pitifully--

Steve sinks a hand into the hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck and tightens it into a large fist, pulling hard and forcing Bucky away from your neck. “Ease off,” Steve says lowly and you have to bite your bottom lip to keep back another mewl at the sound.

Bucky’s flushed as he looks at Steve, eyes so dark and shining. You’re breathless because he looks handsome and a little unhinged, like he wants to devour you, like he wants to absolutely wreck you and you-- you want him to, you think. The warm heat of the pain from your neck radiates, almost makes you want more. The darkness in his features excites you more than it should. You’d liked the way he’d growled and pushed you harder into Steve, feeling trapped and precious and small between them.

Your head is foggy, but you catch Steve scolding him about how you are in public still. To have some sort of control. Bucky eases away, making you blink. Steve soothes a hand over your shoulders and back, seeing the tell-tale dazed look of arousal in your eyes that he’s come to know.

“Poor honey,” Steve murmurs, pressing gentle, placating kisses to your cheek, your jaw. He brushes over the tender skin that’s been marked twice now, “Jesus, Buck,” He murmurs, “What are you, a vampire?”

“I’m sorry, doll.” Bucky says, but he doesn’t seem very sorry at all.

Your lashes flutter, “So, you aren’t mad?” You ask tentatively, “About Natasha?”

Bucky scoffs, shakes his head, “Nah,” He says, “It’s just Tasha.”

You glance at Steve for his own opinion; he shakes his head, too. “I told you, we trust Sam and Natasha with everything that we care about.” He assures you, slipping his hand into yours and guiding you further into the greenhouse, through the winding trails and beneath the wide, palm leaves.

“But I’m still,” You start, take in a slow breath to steady yourself, to try and clear your head, “Confused. Are there--” You pause to consider your words carefully, “Boundaries? How far is too far with one of them?” You glance between them, “I’m supposed to be with you two, right? I don’t want to be disloyal, then.”

Steve’s eyes soften, a fondness touching his features at your devotion, so sweet and pure and deep.

“Would it make you feel better if one of us was always around?” Steve asks, squeezing your hand.

You exhale, finally finding an answer that suits you. It’d make you feel more comfortable, more at ease. You’ve already begun to see them as safety and protection, too, already feel bolder with them at your sides, taking solace in their arms. “Yes,” You tell him, “It would make me feel much better.”

“Then it’s settled.” Steve replies, bringing your hand up to place a reverent kiss to the inside of your wrist, right at the delicate pulse, the softness of the gesture melting your heart.

You spend the rest of the day with them at the park, end up lounging in the shamrock grass, rolling around in a clover field and laughing with wide smiles and flushed cheeks, the blue sky open and wonderful before your eyes.

You fall for them further, gentle, like a feather in the wind, a petal on a stream.

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A few more weeks of whirlwind dates during the day; they spend all the time they can spare with you, but they’re busy men. They take you shopping on more than one occasion, spoil you rotten with clothes and jewelry, anything your heart desires and you knew they were wealthy but you’re starting to wonder how wealthy with the designer brands they gift you with; Coco Chanel, Madeleine Vionnet, Schiaparelli. It’s overwhelming, in some ways, but infinitely fun to wear the dresses they bought you out on dates. You’re catching eyes, suddenly fashion forward and unique, hanging off the arms of two of the most powerful men in New York, highlighting at one of the most popular speakeasies in the city.

It’s a thrill.

And they’re lovely to you, absolutely smitten. Natasha is convinced you have them wrapped around your little fingers. Sam is just as enraptured.

Wanda is constantly quizzing you and asking you questions, most of which make you blush darkly under her gaze but you tell her, anyways, in soft whispers about what you have and haven’t done with them. You try to be vague with her, though, despite recalling in detail memories that make you squirm;

Steve with his head between your legs as you sit in Bucky’s lap, who holds you still despite all your squirming and begging. He likes to wrap his hand around your throat delicately, tip your head back onto his shoulder and look down the length of your bare body as Steve’s mouth makes you tremble.

Sometimes Bucky pushes his fingers into the soft warmth of your mouth, groans when you wrap your lips around them to try and stifle your whimpers. It’s dirty and lewd and you buck against Steve’s mouth, which opens against you and makes you fall apart.

Or on your knees in front of Steve, nervous flutters in your stomach, Bucky beside you on the floor of your bedroom, his lips at your neck.

“I’ve only done this once.” You tell them meekly, wide eyes glancing up at Steve as your small hand wraps around him. He hisses, hips stuttering forward and into your palm.

“S’okay, doll.” Steve murmurs, fingers treading lightly through your hair. He has to find his control, though, with the way you’re looking at him, so hopelessly innocent and soft--

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.” Bucky murmurs, all sin and darkness as his hands roam your body.

“Good girl,” He praises when you take Steve between soft, parted lips and close around the tip. Steve groans, a little broken, desperately trying to stay gentle with you.

“How’s she feel?” Bucky asks eagerly, glancing up at Steve’s face, twisted in pleasure.

“Amazing.” Steve gets out, just as you take him a little deeper, breathing slow, lashes fluttering against your cheek.

Or the times that Bucky makes you see stars so much that you start crying, babbling, unsure what you’re even begging for as Steve kisses away the tears on your dolly pink cheeks. Bucky likes to make you cry, you find out, tells you how pretty you are when you’re made a mess by him.

“But you haven’t…?” Wanda trails off and you know what she’s asking, feel sheepish with her wide eyes on you.

“Not yet.” You tell her softly, in the hazy dark of the dressing rooms after most have gone home. “I haven’t been to their house yet, either.”

That changes in a few days time, though. You haven’t seen Bucky or Steve in a week or so because of how busy they’ve been, but Bucky phones you to tell you that he’s going to pick you up after your performance that night and bring you back to their place. He assures you that you can stay the night, if you’d like, or he can take you home whenever.

You have every intention of staying the night, despite not exactly knowing what to expect of their home. And though you’re aware of their wealth, you aren’t at all prepared for the manor that sits atop a hill on the bay in Long Island. Like a modern castle on the outside, all pointed roofs and proud brick at the very back of their lot. The expanse of green; manicured shrubs and a pond with a fountain that bubbles prettily, even in the dark of night, lights casting it in a silver, pearly glow.

The inside is even more incredible, all glittering marble and tall ceilings, chandeliers, and winding staircases. Tall windows beneath arches, plush sofas and extravagance. It’s incredible, takes your breath away.

Steve promises you can explore more in the morning when it’s light out, since you’ve decided to stay the night. And with that, Bucky grabs you firmly around the middle and  tosses you over his shoulder. You squeal, laughter bright and pinging in the cavernous house as he leads you to a bedroom. Steve’s specifically, you think, but you wonder if Bucky usually stays here, too.

He tosses you down onto the bed, which is large and spacious, plush blankets beneath you that your fingers spread out on and feel. Bucky covers you then with his own body, crawling up the length of you, lips dragging over your skin as he murmurs, “Missed you all week, princess.”

You giggle at his eagerness, his lips finding your smiling ones. “Missed you, too.” You get out before he deepens the kiss further. You feel the bed dip, Steve’s body stretching out to lay beside yours and you squirm under Bucky, breaking the kiss and leaning over to catch Steve lips, too.

“Missed you, too, Stevie.” You sigh against him and he returns the sentiment with a low hum into the kiss, making your fingers twist in his hair.

You can feel Bucky’s straying hands, impatient as he is, already working off your stockings and bloomers. You kick your leg a little at him, just to be a brat, even if you’re just as impatient, the heat inside of you becoming pressing and needy as you continue to kiss Steve. Bucky gives you a sharp nip to your inner thigh, just above your knee as punishment.

You yelp against Steve’s lips, the place sensitive and stinging now.

Cool air hits your bare legs, followed by Bucky’s plush mouth, warm and yielding against your inner thigh. You squirm, your body moving and pushing along the length of Steve’s and his lips part from yours, hovering. His breathing is rougher, broad palm reaching out to grasp and slide along your ribs, up beneath your chest.

Bucky’s lips move upwards already, wrestling you into being still when your hips begin to jerk and arch at the warmth of his mouth.

You cry out sweetly, right against Steve’s lips when Bucky’s mouth finds where you’re most sensitive.

Steve glances down the length of your body, catching Bucky’s eyes. “What’s the rush?” He gets out, voice gruff, but his fingers are running over your breasts through the fabric of your dress. There’s an urgency in their actions, which makes you feel dizzy and lightheaded, fingers sinking into Bucky’s dark hair to try and anchor yourself.

Steve never gets a response. Just your bitten back moan as Bucky rolls his tongue against you, eyes darting up to find your face scrunched up in pleasure, soft little cries falling from your honeyed lips that he fucking loves.

Their hands are everywhere; Steve’s pushing up your dress, rough hands on the delicate skin of your hips and stomach. You arch under the starlight for them, feeling half-possessed with the heat and their mouths and hands, the ferocity with which they grab you. The mercury slick light, silver and sparkling catches the planes of your cheeks, your hair spread out around Steve’s pillow.

He thinks he wants to draw you like this, the fabric of your dress catching and bunched, ripples or sparkles from the sequence under the light of the stars. Your lips open and soft, tempting and ballet pink.

Steve slips his fingers between your lips because he can, because it drives him crazy to feel the warmth of your mouth, the tentative brush of your tongue.

You mewl around them, fuss and try to squirm in Bucky’s arms but he’s got you-- he’s got you tough and hard, even when you fracture, falling apart into what feels like thousands of pieces, Steve’s fingers falling from your mouth as you cry out.

“Bucky,” You plead, voice high and desperate; Steve can tell you’re getting too sensitive already. “Bucky, s-stop.” You try to get away, try to push his head away but he pulls you tighter, forces you flush to his mouth again.

You almost sob, begging and whining as you twist and turn on his sheets. Usually Steve forces Bucky to back off, but he’s suddenly far too intrigued with the tremble in your voice. He takes your chin between his fingers and turns you to him, pressing his lips to yours, petal crushed and slick and gasping beneath him.

He catches your wrists, pulls your hands from Bucky’s hair and forces them above your head. You keen, all precious and perfect beneath him.

“Keep your hands there for me.” Steve murmurs against your lips.

“Steve--” You gasp, begging.

He kisses you hard, silencing you, leaving no room for argument before his lips fall down the line of your neck, down to your chest in heated, sloppy kisses. He pushes your dress up, wriggles it over your head and you’re left in a lavender and creme bralette, soft lace that covers your chest.

You strain, desperately trying to keep your arms where Steve placed them. Bucky groans against you, vibrations making you gasp, glancing down at him where he rolls his eyes up to meet your face, fever bright and dazed, drunk off you.

You whimper, lashes fluttering. Steve’s hands rid you of your bralette now, too.

You’re completely bare, soft skin turning dewy against the silk sheets, hands grasping at the bed board above your head for an anchor, anything--

All it takes for you to fall apart again is Steve’s broad hand on your breast, followed by his warm mouth on the peak, Bucky still greedily, happily between your legs. The pressure builds sharp, then bursts inside of you and you let out a broken cry, raw and high as you tense up, tears caught on your lashes.

Bucky finally lets up, looking too smug for your swimming eyes, tears brimming in the corners, as he crawls up the length of your hypersensitive body, hips still squirming.

He settles his hips in the cradle of yours, just as Steve pulls him in for a bruising kiss. You’re heady with them, watching as Steve tastes you on Bucky. It’s a rough kiss, makes Bucky groan darkly, makes you whimper, hips canting forward and into Bucky’s. Eagerly, his hips rock into yours, too, just before he pulls away from Steve to look at you.

“God, look at you,” Bucky breathes, eyes flying over you wildly, hunger still burning in the blue of his eyes, “Such a sweet girl.” He croons, sinful and low and you can’t believe your hips twitch again against his. 

You already feel wrecked, and yet, horribly empty and craving. Insatiable.

“Listens so well.” Steve praises, pressing wet kisses to your cheek, your jaw.

You hitch your leg over Bucky’s waist, arch your hips and try to entice him into rocking into you again, which he obliges, so you can feel the hard line of him where you want him most-- where you want Steve.

Your head is spinning.

“I w-want you.” You blurt out, looking up into Bucky’s face, just as he rolls his hips again. Your eyes flicker to Steve, desperate for him, too.

“Greedy little thing,” Bucky hums, and then, “You have us, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heat up, unable to say the words, but pushing your hips back into Bucky’s. “No, I want you.” You try to say, flustered with the whininess in your tone, feeling utterly exposed, stretched out beneath Bucky, Steve at your side.

Bucky cocks a brow, tilts his head slightly. “Oh?” He says lightly, “How do ya want us, doll?” He croons, teeth dragging over your ear lobe, “Huh? Use your words.”

You try not to grow too frustrated or flustered; wish you had the grace or confidence to tell him blankly what you desire from them, but you’re already on the brink of tears, made messy and impatient for them. You shudder out an exhale.

“I want you inside me.” You whisper, ducking your head shyly into Bucky’ shoulders.

“What? Like my fingers?” Bucky teases cruelly, as if for emphasis, his fingers dig into the supple skin of your thighs.

“Buck,” Steve finally warns, catching your eyes as you turn your face to him. Steve’s fingers brush your hair from your face, gentle and patient where Bucky’s are rough and prodding.

“Are you sure, honey?” Steve asks and it’s infinitely soft, prying gently to see the truth of your admittance.

You leave yourself open, expressive, nodding quickly with your glistening eyes and damp lashes, cheeks gone cherry blossom and lips fruit-punch sweet and stung; pretty, prim girl that’s been made debauched and still begging for it.

“Get up, Buck.” Steve murmurs and to your surprise, Bucky complies with little complaint, easing off of you, cold air suddenly rushing over your bare body. Your arms are still stretched above your head, just as Steve told you. He now takes Bucky’s place, hips finding yours and he snakes his arms around you, pulling you up to his chest. “Wrap your arms around me.” He murmurs and eagerly, you comply, pulling yourself flush to him, burying your tear damp face into the crook of his neck as he eases you both up, so you’re in his lap.

“You’re sure?” He asks again to be certain, holding you like your precious.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You say into his neck, holding fast to him.

Bucky pouts a little about Steve being the first but he still helps undress him, loses his own clothes in the process until you cling to Steve’s naked chest and shoulders, straddling his waist. He’s hard and pressing against your inner thighs and when you shift slightly, he brushes between your legs, slick and warm.

It isn’t your first time; you’ve done this before, but it wasn’t like this, it was never like this--

Steve stills you with a huge arm around your torso, muscled and strong, protective and half-possessive, lifting you slightly. “I’ll go nice and slow,” He promises lowly, kissing the tender juncture of your shoulder as he reaches down, angles slightly. Bucky presses up against your back, the hard line of him along the curve of your waist.

You nod barely, lust hazed and heady with them.

You feel Steve press against your core, his hips tipping, angling into yours. Bucky kisses your shoulder, hands lifting your waist for Steve and then there’s a burn, a stretch--

You cry out; baby, kitten cry into Steve’s skin.

Steve eases you down, just as Bucky coos and hums in your ear;

Perfect girl, look at you taking Steve.

I’ve got you, it’s okay, angel.

Good girl.

“Oh,” You gasp brokenly, feel Steve bottom out, deep and filling and aching.

Steve bites back a groan, stilling to give you time, to be gentle and slow, just as he promised. Molten heat settles into your core, sticky warmth and Steve’s breath against your chest. Your tense muscles suddenly go slack, boneless, little doll that rolls her head against Bucky’s shoulder.

You shift your hips, arch your back, mewl and sigh and burn.Steve lifts you, pushes back into you in a slow, deep stroke. You groan, Bucky’s lips suddenly crashing down onto yours just as Steve begins a steady, lovely pace. His grip turns rougher, Bucky’s kiss desperate to taste you, hands bruising near Steve’s.

The kiss turns sloppy, your fingers tugging and twisting in Steve’s hair, whose mouth is open and works against your chest, messy, imperfect and warm. You can’t help the soft noises you make into Bucky’s mouth.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages as you grow relaxed and eager and desperate.

Bucky pulls away from you sharply, breath ragged and all he’s done is kissed you, “How’s she feel, Stevie?” He asks, voice rough, lips hovering over yours.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Steve grits out, the slick slide of him making your back arch, “So tight, so fuckin’ good.” He says roughly, strokes growing deeper, faster. You keen, pliant and bathed in silverlight, heavenly and darling, hair spilling onto Bucky’s chest and shoulder. 

Bucky moans just at Steve’s words, just at the thought of you, right against your lips.

He shifts then, fisting himself, needy and pressing against your side. Steve takes the opportunity to ease you down, back hitting the bed with a gasp, followed by your sweet moan as he pushes back in on an easy stroke.

“Steve,” You get out, nails dragging over his shoulders.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” He husks against your ear, hitching your hips up, shifting the angle so your mouth falls open, brows pulling together, fingers curling into hard muscles.

Steve eases back, shifting, making room for his fingers as he continues to move in you. Your nerves flare, making you whimper, needy and dizzy. You turn your eyes to Bucky, wanting him, too, letting your lips part and he presses himself there, let’s you draw him into your sugared mouth.

He groans when you close your lips around where he’s swollen and aching, too, grabbing onto Steve’s shoulder so he doesn’t rut into your mouth as his eyes burn and flare as he desperately watches where you and Steve meet.

Your lids go heavy and sated, lips spit-slick and messy, and your legs are sticky, dewy, glistening but its just you three, just the dark thunder blue of Steve’s eyes and the curses and praises that keeps spilling from Bucky’s pouty, kiss-stung lips.

It’s heaven and sin and hell all at once and you don’t last much longer, pulling off Bucky because you feel like you’re going to lose it, fingers twisting in the sheets.

“There’s our girl,” Steve praises as he feels you tighten, growls low and quickens, hitting deep and sweet inside of you until you’re falling apart all over again; all halo heat and blooming pleasure until you’re trembling, crying all over again.

Steve doesn’t last, either, pulling out of you spilling messy onto your stomach and hips, some onto your thighs. He eases off you, settles back by your side and presses kisses all over your wet cheeks, praising and murmuring softly as you feel Bucky shift, take his place.

His hand comes down on the mess that Steve made on your stomach, fingers sliding through, ruining you worse. His sticky fingers prod at your lips and you open automatically, all dazed and soft, close your lips around his fingers, tongue tasting the salty tang of Steve and you flush deeply with another bout of arousal somehow, head floating and hazy. 

“You got one more in you for me, princess?” Bucky asks and you can feel him already against where you’re still pulsing and slick and sticky. He purposefully lays his body along yours, makes more of a mess, spreads it between you two and it’s dirty and lewd and you give a broken little cry before Bucky eases in suddenly, trying to be slow but he can’t help himself, and you give a soft yelp with the rough thrust.

“Easy,” Steve warns him, sitting up slightly, gripping the back of his neck. Bucky groans, half-whines, but slows into a more languid pace that makes you glow and arch again, rubbing your cheek to his. He turns his head, lips fall over yours again, heated and insistent and he feels different than Steve but good still, rougher, teeth nipping against your plush, lower lip.

He pulls away to bury his face in the crook of your neck, tucking himself there as he ruts into you, strokes growing more and more desperate. Steve’s broad hand runs down his flank.

Bucky’s hand slides down your body, back between your legs, “C’mon, angel, one more for me.” He purrs but it edges onto more of a growl, his voice tighter, a little more desperate. His thrusts grow sloppier.

“Don’t you dare come before her.” Steve warns him and Bucky does growl now, low and rumbling through him and right into you, half-irritated and fingers quickening against your peach-slick flesh. You whine, fussing slightly at the overstimulation, already feeling the rise of another wave though, this time sharper, almost scarier. You grit your teeth, eyes screwing shut.

“B-Bucky,” You whine, maybe try to warn, voice raw, another tear slipping down your cheek. 

“Come for me, baby.” Bucky commands darkly, a little more wild with you, sinking teeth into the fluttering heartbeat on your neck and that’s it, that’s all it takes for you to rupture.

This one is somehow the strongest, your mouth falling open in a soundless groan, digging your nails into Bucky’s shoulders, half-crescents and kitten scratches burn red against his back. It’s sharp and almost painful, bursting hot and quick inside of you, turning inferno and white-flame.

And then Bucky’s finishing, too, pulling out and spilling onto your thighs, onto the already sticky mess of your stomach. His own abs glisten with Steve’s still, cheeks flushed, his mouth open and breathing ragged before he collapses over you. He covers you and holds you as you cry and squirm and mewl in the sensitive, nerve-shocking aftermath.

Steve hushes you, stroking your hair and face, praising you reverently under the ivory, blue moonlight, Bucky’s lips trying to soothe you, gentle and sated and mellow.

You doze in their warmth; boneless, exhausted, blissful.

 It’s Steve who urges you and Bucky up not long after, drawing a bath in the porcelain, clawfoot tub from the connected bathroom. It takes Steve lifting Bucky off you, but he manages to get you both in the warm water, frothy and soft seafoam to clean you. You sink into the warmth, hair curling with the humidity and Bucky kisses you slow and sweet against the lip of the tub. Wipes your face with warm, dripping fingers, clears you of tears and makeup.

Steve watches from the doorway, striped pajamas slung low on his waist, blue eyes heavy and loving. He’s there with a plush towel afterwards, bundles you up in his arms.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, “How are you feeling?”

You blink up at him, slow, sleepy. But your heart is rosy and warm, sated and sanguine.

“Absolutely perfect.” You tell him earnestly, little voice hushed, as if you’re telling him a precious, jeweled secret.

He looks at you in awe for a moment, mesmerized by something in your features, as if you’re as bright and brilliant as a star in the sky. Then he kisses you fondly, lifts you easily and brings you back to bed as if it’s where you belong.

You had brought a nightgown for sleep, but care little now as you lay against Steve’s naked chest, feel the lullaby beat of his heart. Bucky’s body curls around yours, fingers dragging gently over your bare shoulders and you slip into perhaps the easiest, sweetest sleep, like a babe in her cradle, like a lamb in a meadow.

 --------------------------

You sleep late; wake up with Bucky’s face in your chest, arm half-asleep and your legs slung over his waist with all the twisted sheets. Steve is missing, though enters just as you’re blinking, easing awake.

He wakes Bucky then with a hint of a mischievous smile, roughly jarring him from sleep. Bucky groans and drags you closer and it takes nearly fifteen minutes to squirm free to ready for the day.

But when you do, you’re full of new energy and life, excitedly uncovering new parts of their mansion in the bright, lovely daylight.

Sam lives here, you learn, nearly tackle him in a hug; perhaps too excited but he holds fast to you, your arms going around his neck. His lips press little kisses to your cheek, the corner of your lips, just as eager to see you. 

He falls back beside Bucky and Steve as they watch you explore, now rushing outside to the glimmering, sapphire water of the swimming pool in the backyard. The birds sing, twinkling and infinitely happy. The wind tousles your hair.

“This is incredible!” You gasp, kneeling beside the pool, letting your fingers drift through the glittering water, it sparkles beneath your fingertips. Your smile is radiant.

“She really brightens the place up,” Bucky says softly to the two men at his sides, eyes soulful and touched, watching you with a warm gentleness. Steve isn’t sure the last time he’s seen his face so open and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees softly, his smile fond, serene, “Like she belongs here.”

And all Steve can do is watch, enamored; hopelessly falling, heart softening and melting for you at a rate he should be frightened by.

But it’s just you against an open sky, and there are no words for the way he feels, just the need to see you like this forever, tucked safely by his heart and in his home; laughing and open and free.

 -------------------------------

The next night, at the Valkyrie, Natasha acts rather strangely for awhile. She lingers around you, eyes caught on you sharp and hard.

At the end of your performance, when you try to leave for the night, purse clutched between your hands, you are stopped by a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a hard face.

He snags your wrist, almost viciously, “What’s the rush, babydoll?” He asks, “Why don’t you hang around?”

Worry prickles through you, “I’m sorry, I’d like to get home for the night.” You tell him politely, pulling slightly, but his grip around your wrist is an iron cage, insistent and unmoving. Your heart rate spikes, fear slinking slowly through you. Your eyes fly out, towards the crowds, towards the bar, for Natasha.

“C’mon now,” He says and it’s tight and forced, pulling you towards him.

You stumble into his chest, try and push yourself away but he’s got you hard and fast suddenly, viper grip, poisonous touch.

“Please, I-I don’t--” You babble, struggling against him.

“Rumlow.” A familiar voice warns, cutting and dangerous.

Natasha. Relief floods through you like cool, crisp water.

The man picks his head up at what seems to be his name. His eyes narrow on Natasha.

He lets you go without another word and you quickly ease back to Natasha, let her step in front of you to shield you. Your small hand buries in the back of her dress, ducking your head behind her shoulders.

“I don’t want trouble, Romanoff.” The man, Rumlow, tells her, “Just a little fun.”  He tries to grin but its hooked and sets you on edge. 

“Not tonight.” Natasha says, voice like steel and blade, “Not here.” She tilts her head, “You know you’re not welcome here.” She says and your heart races.

Rumlow holds up his hands, as if he means no harm, “Alright, alright, I’ll leave.” He concedes easily, perhaps too easily. Natasha’s eyes narrow, you can see the skepticism in her features, even in the shadows of the club.

Rumlow dips his head low, tries to force you to meet his eyes, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He tells you pointedly and you can’t look at him, focus your eyes on the red curls around Natasha’s neck.

You duck further behind her as he eyes you more fully. Natasha steps into his line of vision and he concedes after a lingering, heavy moment.

She waits for his shadow to leave, tracks him all the way out.

You can tell something inside of her sinks, worry settling heavily around her shoulders. Her face is tighter, a little pinched as she turns back to you. 

“Are you okay?” She murmurs, fingers brushing the wrist he grabbed, eyes flying over your features.

“Yes,” You exhale, “Thank you.”

She shakes her head, as if she doesn’t want your thanks at all. “I’m going to walk you home tonight.” She tells you instead.

You don’t argue, but you do press, “Who was he, Natasha?”

Her ruby lips turn downwards, she debates telling you, before settling on, “Brock Rumlow. He’s from a rival mob.” She shakes her head, “I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Oh,” You say, a little dumbly, very unsure suddenly. Should you be worried? Whose mob was he from? How dangerous was he? You become keenly aware of all that you don’t know, feeling suddenly lost.

“Hey,” She catches your chin, brushes her thumb along your jaw, “I told you I’d protect you.” She murmurs, “You’re okay,” She assures, half-coos, “You’re safe.”

You nod lightly, softening under her gaze. “I know.” You sigh lightly. She holds your gaze for a moment before lowering her hand. “Now, c’mon, let’s get you home.”

You tuck yourself against her side, hook your arm through hers and let her lead you home in the darkened streets, the cloudy night shielding moon and stars. Just the glow of streetlights, manmade and iron.

She ends up staying the night, upon your quiet request when you've reached your door. She watches you fall asleep, hair splayed out on a pillow, silk nightgown trussed up and twisted around you.

You sleep fitfully, only comforted with Natasha’s lingering, soothing touches. She murmurs to your sleeping form; caressing words, promises of safety and gentleness and care, perhaps phrases in a foreign language.

But she stays until morning light, vigilant at your side, until she presses a kiss to your temple and disappears with the slipping of dawn into day.

She heads straight for the estate, for Steve and Bucky and Sam, to warn them about who was so interested in their girl, in you. You who seemed so defenseless to Natasha with your wide, wondering eyes and untouched innocence, sleeping curled up and tucked delicately into bed;

Like a babe in a cradle, a lamb in a meadow.

[sarah-snook]

Today, August 21, 2019, is Fanfic Author Appreciation Day!! I know I always love and get excited when I get nice feedback on my fics and I would love to spread that love! I’m not a very popular/big blog but I hope you guys enjoy these fics just as much as I did! If you have a chance, especially today, I encourage you to leave a nice comment, some kudos or even an ask letting your favorite authors know how much you appreciate them and love their fics!

Note: There are so many fics to choose from and this list is definitely not definitive (I have so many I want to add but so little time and space lol I literally have like 300 bookmarks on AO3) and I just want to let y’all know that if you write fics in the IT fandom I appreciate all of your hard work!

WIPs

Angels in Outfields by @reddie-for-anything 

Reddie | M | ~75,438K

Richie takes solace in his inability to play any kind of physical sport ever. He knows he’ll hate this, but he also knows he won’t make the team. Not in a million years.

One caramel macchiato, on me by @jem-carstairs-is-perfection 

Reddie | NR | ~4,965K 

Richie and Eddie have the opposite of a meet-cute. When their paths cross again, neither is too happy about it ―at first.

L.A Devotee by @richietoizer

Reddie | Explicit | ~16,410K

child actor Richie Tozier was raised in The Industry, he knows how to play the game. He knows exactly how to keep his head down, and make his way through the famous life without attracting any extra drama. Until his management branch takes an up incoming band under their wing, and enlist Richie to publicly date the lead singer, and that all falls to shit.

Biohazard by @aizeninlefox

Mystery Pairing | M | ~17,588K

From here on out everything that happens is up to you. Not only do you get to choose who the story follows, but choices are given to you at the end of the chapter so pay attention to the little things that happen and remember what previously happened. Relationships among the group are boosted and decreased by every choice you make. The ships are affected by every choice you make. Who lives and who dies is affected by every action and response.

Complete Multi-Chapter

Fall Away From Me (I Just Can't Take It) by @reddie-for-anything

Reddie | Explicit | 19,675

It’s okay, though, Eddie tells himself. It’s all fine. This is part of their arrangement. This is a casual thing they have going. It’s his own stupid fault for catching feelings for someone he agreed to casually fuck. Especially when that person is his best friend from childhood.

say it right by @richietoizer

Reddie | T | 14,289K

Eddie and Richie work together in book cafe, and Richie is determined to turn Eddie into a coffee drinker by making him the perfect drink. And if Eddie happens to fall in love with him in the process, well then that’s just an added bonus.

Richie the Ruiner by RanjantheVictor

Reddie | Teen | 16,083K

It takes Richie Tozier a while to realise, but eventually he does. Richie ruins everything, no matter how much he tries not to.

your heartbeat is the only sound I wanna hear by @eddiefuckinkaspbrak

Reddie | Explicit | 16,008K

Richie meets a very interesting young man at his university's library and is determined to be able to talk to him. or deaf!eddie au

and this is who we are by @lo-v-ers

Reddie | Mature | 40,763K

In which Eddie and Beverly lie to their friends for five years before finally coming out, much to the surprise of one supposedly straight Richie Tozier.

oh, somebody loves you by slytherincosette

Reddie | Not Rated | 12,341K

Amortentia is encountered in Potion's class and everything goes to shit. Basically a romantic comedy set at Hogwarts. Everyone is Bad At Feelings, until they're not.

Oneshots

Pavlov's Do(n)g by @reddie4thesinbin 

Reddie | Explicit | 5,650K

Richie had trained his dick to respond to darkness. He never thought it would get him in trouble, until he found himself in the middle of a blackout with his best friend, and a very well trained dong.

Tender by @aizeninlefox​

Reddie | Mature | 8,304K

First time soft bottom!Richie college au

Rotting Treehouses by @wonderwheelzier

Reddie | Teen | 2,872K

Nothing brings people together quite like falling out of a tree.

Big Dog, Little Dog by @stellarbisexual

Reddie | Teen | 2,658K

“He’s friendly, I swear!” the man yells, just in time for Roscoe to reach his destination: Enzo, who, to his credit, looks up at the big dog with far more curiosity than fear.

Richie holds tightly to Enzo’s leash, wary (“he’s friendly”--yeah, he’s heard that before) as Roscoe recovers from the run by nosing at Enzo’s butt.

Find Your Fire by endversed

Reddie | Teen | 16,354K

Richie Tozier meets a cute firecracker of a guy when he accidentally sets off the fire alarm in his apartment.

It's just too bad that said guy has got a boyfriend - doesn't he?

Tandem by @aizeninlefox

Steddie | Teen | 4,413K

Everyone finds their soulmate... eventually.

An Easy Fit by @neonganymede

Streddie | Teen | 5,427K

Eddie Kaspbrak was a little bit in love with Richie Tozier, and, he realized belatedly, he was a little bit in love with Stanley Uris, too. Maybe that was why when he saw them together, holding hands or kissing discretely, Eddie felt like his lungs might never work again. That his inhaler would finally fail him, and he’d die, gasping for something he could never have.

Leech by @mrs-vh

Reddie | Teen | 2,535K

Eddie returns from a day at the quarry and goes to the doctor.

Thunder Struck by @marsisaplanetyall

Reddie | Teen | 3,290K

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE PUKE ON ME”

Those were the first words he would hear his soulmate say and if anyone was going to have some nasty upchuck, it would definitely be at Thunderpark. It’s a good thing Richie has a season pass.

Break a Leg by @freddiebatson

Reddie | General | 1,033K

It's Richie's big night, performing at Radio City Music Hall and Eddie's too busy to show, or is he?

Richie Tozier Loses All Hope by @onceyoukaspbrakyouneverkaspback

Reddie | Teen | 6,127K

Richie Tozier is worried that if his best friend figures out what's been on his mind lately, everything good in his life will come crashing down.

Steady Feet, Don't Fail Me Now by @richietoaster

Reddie | Mature | 9,870K

“You know how to dance?” Eddie demands, still skeptical, and Richie is almost offended. “Yes, actually,” he scoffs with a good natured laugh. “Is that so hard to believe?” Eddie opens his mouth, but Richie cuts him off before he can tell his friend that yes, that’s incredibly hard to believe. “Don’t answer that, dickhead,” Richie says as he gets up, wiping his sweaty palms onto his jeans. “C’mon, get up.” He instructs and holds out a hand to pull Eddie to his feet. “I’m teaching you.”

say what you mean (out loud) by @edsbrak

Reddie | Teen | 7,410K

Richie realizes he likes Eddie and promptly goes through the five stages of grief.

walk alone or run away by tozier

Reddie | Explicit | 46,891K

Richie Tozier is Eddie Kaspbrak’s rival. At least, that’s what Eddie says to everyone who will listen—including Richie most of the time.

Richie Tozier is a man, not of lies, but of half-truths and truths said too plainly out in the open that they sound like lies to the untrained ear. He does not lie—he lets others lie for him.

The Greater Fool by @mischiefxmanager

Reddie | Teen | 5,862K (this whole series is great)

Who is the greater fool, (or something like that) asked Obi Wan Kenobi, the fool or the fool who follows him?

Richie is the fool. Obviously. Eddie is the fool who followed him. And now Eddie feels like he can answer Obi Wan with confidence: the greater fool is the one who doesn’t call bullshit on the bullshitter and instead goes, what the hell, why not? It’s not like there’s anything better to do.

[praisethewlwlord]

‘Twelve Shades of Love’

Mine and @versonstar story 

Chapter 2 - ‘The Teacher’

Dorothy Olding x fem!reader

Warnings: sexual assault, homophobia, anxiety/panic attack, mild violence

Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at writing a fic and I've been luck enough to be able write this story with the one and only @versonstar who has been incredibly kind and supportive :3 I hope you enjoy it and I’d love to hear all kinds of feedback :)

‘Y/N Winters! I better see you downstairs in five minutes or else you’ll be late for school!’

Upon hearing the sound of my mother’s voice calling my from the bottom of the stairs I decided to speed up and threw on the last items of my outfit for another day as a junior at Bridgeway High School. I’d been going to the same school since I was a freshman and was in no way excited or nervous about going for another academic year however due to both my mother and my mum’s experiences in the educational environment growing up and because of their partnership and fame in the entertainment industry they were always worried for me whenever I went nearly anywhere. On the other hand I could care less. Everyone always had something to say and that had been something I’d learnt growing up but instead of closing myself of from the judgment of the human race I chose to try my best to ignore it even though I did occasionally get into fights with people who thought they could be rude about or offend my parents. 

I stuffed the last of my school equipment into my backpack as well as my English essay and my favourite journal which I chose to take everywhere with me since you’d never know where an interesting story could be found. 

Bolting down the stairs I attempted to style my hair into something mildly presentable and in doing so nearly bumped into my mum who was heading up them. In my attempt to stop myself from hitting her I unintentionally fell backwards banging my back on the beige carpeted steps. Her blue eyes glittered as she giggled at my clumsiness as she reached out her delicate hand to help me back onto my feet. 

‘You should really be more careful darling’ she spoke bearing a kind smile.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry. I just I heard mother calling and knew that if I didn’t get down quickly that she would come up and drag me down herself’ I replied adding a small chuckle at the end remembering how stubborn of a woman she could be.

‘I understand’ she added, still holding my hand in hers as she turned heading down the stairs to the kitchen where she had just previously been with her wife. ‘I’ll join you so that she doesn’t make you even later by making you eat and trying to lecture you about being on time’. And with that we both laughed and entered the kitchen where the famous Lana Winters sat, mug in hand and reading the morning newspaper.

‘I heard you two laughing from in here, what’s going on?’ She asked suspiciously and small grin appearing on her rose lips as she placed the coffee filled mug onto a coster on the dining table. 

‘Nothing dear, we were just talking’ replied Marion still holding a precious smile on her face as she let go of my hand and walked towards my mother placing a small kiss on her forehead. 

Standing there I watched them in that moment. It looked like a scene from the most beautiful film, the sun dancing through the window landing on their forms like petals. Both of my parents held smiles on their faces as they gazed into each others eyes. The opera singer and the writer, it was almost poetic in some way.

Shifting my gaze to the clock hanging on the wall by the white fridge I suddenly realised that my bus would be arriving at its stop in less that 10 minutes. I ripped a piece of freshly popped toast from the toaster and sprinted into the hallway trying desperately to stuff my shoes on before gripping the door handle ready to pull it open when I heard my mum call my name. I turned on my heels and faced her.

‘Now I know you may be sixteen but I’m sure you're not too old to say goodbye to us before you leave’ she said slightly pouting as Lana walked up beside her.

Chuckling slightly at my parents antics I ran up to them, my piece of toast carelessly placed in my mouth as I brought them both in for a tight hug feeling them place their own arms around my back. Mumbling a ‘goodbye’ between the crumbs I escaped their embrace and turned back, this time leaving the house and making my way to the bus stop. 

———

School wasn’t the most exciting thing the world of a 16 year old could offer however while I wasn’t very keen on it I absolutely adored English and specifically writing. That was probably my mothers fault as since they’d adopted me all I’d known was the world of journalism and singing. I absolutely adore the subject outside of school however there was one reason that I nearly loved it was much in school and that was thanks to my teacher, Miss Dorothy Olding. 

She is perfect to put it simply. She is so enthusiastic and loves the subject just as much as I do and to make it even better she’s absolutely stunning. Her wavy blonde locks delicately bounced on her firm shoulders as she spoke. The natural makeup that blessed her face was always accompanied by a bright shade of stunning red lipstick. Kindness and wisdom was buried in the look in her eyes. The clothes worn by her delicately hugged her beautiful figure but always made her look like she was prepared to fight and win against any big corporation that got in her way. She always carried an air of authority however was very approachable and never shied away from a challenge. I have no idea how the school had managed to get her into teach us especially as she was still continuing her publishing career but here she was in all her glory standing before a class of students aged 16 and 17, 45 minutes before the end of the school day.

The sound of the final bell split the silence of pens on paper throughout the classroom signalling for the occupying students to rise from their seats and erupt into deafening conversations of gossip and social plans.

‘Y/N, would you mind staying behind for a minute? I just wish to talk to you’. 

At the sound of my name being called from Miss Olding’s mouth, my heart began to beat twice as fast. I knew I wasn’t in any trouble however I was not stubborn enough to be able to trick myself into thinking that I didn’t have a slight crush on her. So I bid goodbye to my friend Simon and as he headed for the room’s door I approached Dorothy’s desk. 

I wrapped my arms around my figure clutching my workbook waiting patiently for her to make the first move as I stood patiently waiting for her to finish the essay she was marking. Without departing her attention from the ink stained sheet of paper she spoke, 

‘You look nervous, don’t worry your not in trouble Miss Winters’ as the final syllable of my surname escaped her mouth, her deep brown eyes met my E/C ones before she continued ‘I wish to discuss your progress including your most recent homework assignment that I have just had the joy of reading’. 

Relaxing slightly at her words, I gave a small nod of acknowledgement and allowed her to continue. 

‘You have a gift, one which I bet would have any publisher or newspaper firm after you’.

I felt a slight heat rising to my cheeks at her words, the only compliments I received for my work usually came from my parents or Simon as if I tried to show them off, as I learnt from when I was a  child, I would be shadowed behind my mothers name or picked on by fellow classmates. This meant that I never felt the need to constantly work to my full potential as, as much as I’d like to say I didn’t, I sought for approval in those around me even though I told myself and tried my hardest to believe that I didn’t. Despite being stubborn, in some situations even more so that the famous Lana Winters, I still always held on to the fear of rejection. I’d show the outside world that I didn’t care about what was expected, that I’d be able to strive through anything life could throw at me but on the inside I felt like I had to remain in the same small box, not allowed to step out but be content with where I was protected. 

Pulling me out of my own thoughts the blonde asked ‘I want to see how much potential you have, if you would like I’d love for you to do additionally work with my after school and on different projects’

‘I-I…really?’ I couldn’t help but stutter, it felt like a part of me had been waiting patiently for this since I was young and I didn’t want to let go of this feeling.

‘Of course! You have a talent and I don’t want to see it washed away’ and with those final words she stood, collected the assignments placing them in her light brown, leather briefcase and left for the exit. Before placing her delicately manicured hand on the doorknob she turned once again facing me, as I had stared in awe as she walked away. 

‘We can start next week’ she started, turning back around and disappearing into the corridor.

‘Yes! Thank you!’ I desperately called after her a smile plastered on my face that I nearly thought was impossible to get rid of. 

This was my chance.

— — —

Over the rest of my junior year I met weekly with the publicist developing my skills and expanding my knowledge of the world and what it had to offer for my career. Having all this extra time with Dorothy didn’t help the fact that I had a crush on her however I luckily managed to avoid anything too embarrassing as my mind was usually absorbed by the activities I was doing though the odd glance or two at her scarlet red lips or tender, soft cheeks had me distracted in almost an instant.

In the final term of the school year I was gifted by receiving Mrs Olding’s phone number, and while it wasn’t for the purpose I wanted it to be, I felt like I’d found gold. I was only allowed to message or call her if I wasn’t able to make it to a session or if I wanted to reorganise one during the summer break as we’d both agreed it would be great to continue however she did mention that if I truly needed her in any way that she would be happy to listen. 

— — — 

Luckily the final exams ended quickly in the two weeks before the break however that didn’t stop me from amounting so much stress that I nearly threw up several times during the course of the 14 days. Both Lana and Marion got exceedingly more worried as they tried method after method to try and help me calm my nerves. I slept with lavender, drank herbal teas and even practised a little meditation and while some of it did help I still felt like collapsing and not getting up. So when the email from the school came inviting all juniors and seniors to an end of exams/results party they almost forced me to go, despite wanting to go myself anyway, to help clear my mind of worry and let loose for 3 to 4 hours on a Friday night.

My only issue was who I would go with. I didn’t want a ‘date’ as to be honest there was no one I found mildly interesting in my year at all and while I hung out with some people I never had a stable group of friends who expressed that they wanted me to be with them besides Simon. 

I had known Simon since starting at Bridgeway High and he’d always been great company and an incredibly kind and loving person despite the occasional racist comments that were thrown at him by some of the pricks in our freshman class. We had been there for each other through thick and thin and I’d never have asked for anything more.

— — —

I was applying the finally bits and pieces of my hair and makeup when I heard the doorbell ring.

‘Y/N! Simon’s here!’ My mum called from the bottom of the stairs 

‘I’ll be there in a minute!’ I responded as I took one final look at myself smoothing down my outfit and checking for flyaway hairs. Luckily the event hadn’t called for extremely formal clothing so I’d opted for wearing the blazer and trousers of a deep maroon suit accompanied by a simple white t-shirt and black heals. Once I had finished inspecting I grabbed a small clutch from my table (as for some reason woman’s suits have absolutely no pockets), placed my phone inside and made my way down the stairs.

As I reached the foyer I spotted my parents speaking to my friend who had chosen to wear a Prussian blue suit with a sapphire shirt paired with white trainers. I tried my hardest not to draw attention to myself instead wanting the leave as quickly as possible however Lana spotted me out of the corner of her eye and gasped.

‘Sweetheart what’s wrong?’ Marion questioned before she turned around and copied the same action as her wife.

‘You look stunning my baby’ Lana uttered her eyes dancing over every inch of my like I was a diamond on display.

As I began to feel the heat of embarrassment rise on my cheeks both women stepped forward and wrapped their arms around my figure in a bone crushing manner. I didn’t need to hear them say that they were concerned, overjoyed and happy as I felt it all in their embrace. As they drew back I assured them that I would be absolutely fine and that I would be back by the latest midnight unless something happened, which I would accordingly call them about.

Wishing our final goodbyes Simon and I departed the house, climbed in his car and made our way back to the school. 

— — —

The school hall was adorned with ribbon and balloons. A disco ball was hung form the centre of the ceiling, shining above a dance floor filled with teenagers. Around the latter were tables decorated with white cloth, chairs and a group of balloons. At one side of the hall the DJ booth stood blasting the most recent top 20 songs and on the opposite were three long tables, once again with white cloth, covered in all assortment of party food and drinks in massive plastic bowls with a ladle.

This way of presenting the drinks was found to be an absolutely terrible by the staff who had discovered, after several people had thrown up, that they had all been spiked. Luckily for me I had only had one drink but Simon wasn’t as lucky and had needed to be dropped home. That had left me alone, sitting on a table by myself staring at the small plate of food I had gotten myself. 

Overcome with boredom and the sense of being stared at I decided to go into the hallway outside the girls bathroom and call either Lana or Marion to come and pick me up. That was the plan at least…

As I made my way into the hallway I leaned against some of the lockers about to grab my phone when a fist crashed into the metal beside my head causing me to drop my clutch. Trying to ignore the person who had scared me I went to pick up my items when their hand collided with my neck dragging me back up and pushing me against the lockers, forcing my body to be trapped between the cold metal and their frame. Looking up I thought I recognised the person however the darkness of the hallway shadowing their features and the extreme pain that my body had been forced into didn’t allow me to focus on anything besides their words and the stench of alcohol on their breath. 

‘I’ve been watching you for a while Winters, you and that pretty body of yours’ though slightly slurred the deepness of their voice lead me to believe that it was a guy most likely one from the year above. 

I looked down staring at my hands as I tried to practise the breathing exercises that Dr. Staple had taught me, putting my shaking fingers down as I breathed in and back up as I blew out. Noticing that my attention was drawn away from him, he snarled and began raising his left hand before striking the side of my face.

I just stood there. The echo reverberating through my ears. This wasn’t good. I’d tried so hard but still that one simple action was able to throw me right back. All of my muscles began to ache, my fingers jumping like they’d been shot with electricity. Tears began to prick at the sides of my eyes.

‘LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU, BITCH!’ And with that he hit me again

I went to hold my hands against my chest and shrink into the ground when both of his firsts ripped my arms away, his knee shoved between my thighs as he forced one hand against my neck using the other to support himself against the metal. All I could do was follow as I stared into is hollow eyes desperate to do anything in the world to protect myself.

‘I know your type, you know. The rich kid who things she’s too good for everyone else’ shoving one of his fingers against my temple he continued ‘All up there, stuck in your own perfect world’.

Where had I gone wrong, all I’d ever tried to do was fit in and be as “normal” as I could be if anything I thought I had tried to stay in the shadows. The million and one encounters I had made with anyone and everyone raced through my mind nitpicking and calling out all mistakes I’d made, every single time the patterns on a persons face had changed, their stance or the pitch of their voice. It was my fault. I’d done this to myself.

I began to cry. The tears I’d tried so hard to keep behind lock and key streamed down my face like waterfalls. I felt embarrassed, ashamed even to be falling apart when I believed I had no reason to. 

‘Aww, you crying for your dyke mothers. They aren’t going to help you now princess. It’s just you and me and I know you want it. You want this, you asked for it dressing like you do with that attitude and that pretty little face of yours’.

With that final syllable his lips crashed into mine at a bruising force, tearing and stabbing away in a drunken attempt to gain access into me. 

I felt so weak, my breathing was uncontrollable, the tears unstoppable. I placed my hands against his shoulders putting all my strength into trying to move him. I knew the consequences of disobeying but my mind was screaming at me, clawing at my skin, shouting at me to run and hide. 

As my shove was unexpected the figure stumbled backwards and they began to laugh. Just laughing and laughing and laughing. I clutch my arms over myself as my fingers bruised my skin as I began to collapse, the adrenaline quickly leaving my body as I was consumed by my own pressuring darkness. I knew they’d come back, I knew what was going to happen once the laughing stopped. 

Nothing came.

I was chocking slowly feeling like I was loosing my mind when a cold slender hand gripped my shoulder. Everything suddenly felt ten times worse as I tried desperately to shrink further and further into myself until I disappeared, the sobs and shaking never stopping.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ was all I could say all my mind could process. I needed to apologise I needed to fix it, everything.

Suddenly a blanket was being wrapped around my form as I was lifted up so my knees were against my chest being hugged by my red and nearly raw arms. I felt two bodies, one on each side of my broken self. 

‘Shh, shh it’s okay. It’s going to be alright I promise. Y/N can you hear me?’ the voice on my right spoke softly 

I nodded my head slightly 

The same voice spoke again ‘Good, that’s really good. Can you do something for me? Can you copy my breathing?’.

I tried and it was working but it wasn’t enough. As I was about to shake my head and begin apologising I felt the body on my left shift, placing one of my hands on her chest. I tensed up ready to crawl into the shoulder of the person on my right when I felt the same cold hand from earlier touch my face softly and stroke my right cheekbone in a soothing manner.

A heartbeat. I could hear it. It felt stronger and better than my own so I followed it until I heard it in the same force that my own had inside my ears.

‘Well done Y/N. It’s okay now, we’ve got you. You’re safe’

Using the hand that wasn’t pressed against the persons chest I went to wipe my tears, still shaking slightly as I did so.

‘Hey, have some water’ the voice in front of me spoke. I looked up and as my eyes focused I was able to make out a leopard print pattern and blonde frizzy hair. Reaching for the cup of water she offered I drank it slowly as to not choke myself.

‘Y/N’ I recognised that voice and looking to my right I was unmistaken. It was Miss Olding. ‘We’re going to get you home okay. I’ve called your mother and told her that something has happened and that you’ll be arriving home soon’

‘Tha-thank you’ my own voice stuttered out still hoarse from my breathing.

I attempted to stand up only to collapse into the arms of the girl in the leopard print coat.

‘I’m-m sorr-y’

‘No no its okay, I’m gonna get you home’ she said kindly ‘Oh, my name is Sally by the way, Sally McKenna’

And with those final words she lead me, slowly and steadily, down the hallway and out to the car park where we got into her car. It smelt like cigarette smoke and there were quite a few boxes scattered around the vehicle.

‘I’m sorry about that Y/N, I’ve got a habit’ she said with a slight nervous chuckle 

‘I don’t mind’ I replied with a slight smile. Luckily the walk had given my body and mind the opportunity to calm themselves so I could hold together a conversation

‘Are you okay?’

‘I should be I’m still a but on edge but I’ll be okay’

‘Good but you can talk to me about it whenever. I’ve been in the same shitty situation with a couple of arseholes before’ she spoke leaning back in the drivers seat and huffing

‘Oh I’m sorry about that’

‘No no they come and they go but they are all the same’ she then surprisingly giggled adding ‘though none of them look the same after’

‘What do you mean? Wait, what happened?’ I asked in complete curiosity

Placing a cigarette in her mouth, the blonde continued ‘I saw the two of you as I came out of the girls bathroom and then I saw you crying and shove him back before collapsing’ blowing out the smoke she went on ‘I walked up to him as he was about to grab you and punched him and, you know, kept going until I knew he wouldn’t even think about getting up’

‘Thank you’ I replied meekly 

‘There’s no need to’ 

And with that she began to drive out of the school. As we passed the front gate I noticed an ambulance and a group of students and teachers gathered around it including Dorothy. Giving Sally my address she continued, not caring one glance for the building or the commotion outside of it.

— — — 

I must have dosed off as I felt the woman beside my nudge my arm.

‘We’re here’

I said my thank you’s and was ready to leave when she called my name.

‘I hope you don’t mind but I used your phone to take a picture of my number for you’ she finished, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck

‘It’s perfect, thank you. I-I want to find a way to thank you properly if that’s okay’

‘That’s fine with me sweetheart’ she added with a grin

Smiling back I excited the car and walked to my front door, turning back to wave before I returned inside.

[spnfanficpond]

January Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations. If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

And we’d like to make a special shout out and say thank you to Ana and Kenzi for your total of 15 Angel Fish Nominations this month! The two of you together nominated 14 authors and the kind of passion for reading and reciprocating your feedback is exactly what we love to see. Thank you both for sharing so much love this month! 

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JANUARY’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @sorenmarie87

The Pact (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

Jen’s fics are always so well written and detailed to a point where it feels like it could actually happen.  Not to mention her characterization is on point.  This fic in particular is different from what I’ve read before and everyone should give it a chance. 

Nominated by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

How You & I Will Be (series) by @katehuntington

I’m nominating this fic, which (fair disclosure) I beta’d becuase it does a really really really really great job of fulfilling the brief it set out to achieve: making you cry.

It’s a story of unrequited love between Dean and the reader and it’s doomed, from the outset.  Kate unpacks nearly every angle and moment and hold them up for you as they burn away, right in from of your eyes.  Ruby-level patience.  Nice at brutal.

So if you like your angst and tears, have at it friends.  Cheers, Ali.

(TW for major character death.)

Nominated by @rosieakacanadianspnhunter

Thunder Rolls by @amanda-teaches 

I'm not afraid of thunder, but I definitely felt the fear. I'd totally pretend to be if it meant Dean would distract me this way! I loved the addition of Dean telling the reader what his own biggest fear is! Hot!

Nominated by @percywinchester27

The First Bite  (oneshot) by @shy-violet-soul

Firstly, can I just say that I am absolutely in love with their work? The writer is so sure of what they want to say and know exactly how to say it. And that is a rare thing, when no word is unnecessary. I absolutely fell in love with the characterization of young Dean and Sam. And the OCs are enchanting. Don’t remember the last time I fell in love with an OC so quickly! And the husband-wife duo in the fic are simply adorable. The context and background of the story paint a lovely picture. And Dean… damn that boy breaks your heart. All in all would recommend it 100% Go check the author out!

  The Babysitter (series) @mrswhozeewhatsis

I never thought I would ever commit to a 65 chapter series, but damn! this one felt like a couple of pages, and even after it ended, I was running around my room, screaming like a zombie with “MOREEEEEEEEEEEE.” This could have very well been a parallel world in itself. Like another reality that Jack could create a rift to, where the Winchesters are happy. They have this sister/mother/friend figure in their lives who is absolutely awe-inspiring. She is tender, good and badass but oh so realistic with her feelings. I go back and read the timestamps a lot and my fav chapter where they are in the hotel room at the very end and prank the hell out of everyone else. I was in splits the first time and still am. This doesn’t white wash John, but brings out the best in him. JUST. GO. READ IT. You are fucking welcome!

Living With Regrets (series) by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

The pain!! OH GOD THE PAIN!! The author can personally attest to how I hounded her over this series in her IMs. The timing of each chapter is so perfect that it just leave you with the right amount of angst and desperation for the next chapter. I wanted to push both the characters together and close the door behind them so they could just fucking TALK!! I am emotional about this okay? Also while I wanted to hug and cuddle the little OC, I wanted to strangle and murder the other one!! This series brought out quite a lot of passion in me, one that I didn’t know I had the capacity of feeling over a fictional work, still does. It is an adorable little world that you all should definitely be a part of! Go…go….go!!

Silk and Rough Velvet (series) by @blacktithe7

SARV was the first long series I attempted to read. Also the first AU. It altered my life. Rockstar!Jensen suddenly became a real thing. Y'all have no clue how much this series had awed me. Even now when I mention the series to a third party, my first reaction is - “You haven’t read it? What are you doing with your life?” It has the perfect amount of love, angst and fluff. Gosh! It is the freaking best! Most days there are no words. Today is one of them!

Series Rewrite (series) @torn-and-frayed

A true masterpiece! I don’t know how do you even begin to attempt something like this. The reader is inserted in the rewrite SO FLAWLESSLY!!! SO EFFORTLESSLY that it is crazy! Like what even??? I mean she has a personality of her own. And as strong a presence as Sam or Dean. More importantly, she does not undermine the relationship of the brothers. Does not take away from their moments, all the while creating her own bonds. I love that she is in love with Dean. But damn, I love what she has with Sam, too. The author manages to perfectly capture the essence of the rewrite in the best way possible. Excellent job!

Fresh Start (series) by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

This one is unique in it’s uncomplicatedness (that isn’t a word, but deal with it) Like whoa, the reader is so fucking relatable! I am sure all authors can relate when they make a reader super-strong, super-understanding, super-witty. This one is just super-relatable. And that is the hardest fucking thing to do! The OC is charming AF, and the underlying pain of a dead lover is significant. It is not in your face, it is not too underplayed, but it’s subtle and THERE. Kudos at having achieved the perfect balance of everything. It is rare and awesome! Read this ONE!

Close Every Door (series) by @jotink78

I have never known the sort of pain and angst that this series inflicted on me, I kid you not. I wanted to steamroll everyone,and everybody. If you caught me reading a chapter, there was a good chance that I was either feeling extremely murderous and was sobbing incessantly in the corner. I’ve said it before, despite being one of the kindest people, the author sure knows how to be cruel when it comes to writing. This series is sure to rip your freaking heart part, stomp all over it and out it back. BUT SO WORTH IT!!

More Than You Bargained For (series) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

Best bodyguard!AU I have ever read. It was fun and exciting without getting too palpitating, which is good because the chase and suspense were fantastically written. And the twist at the end, you’d never fucking see that coming. I bet!! I love how they slowly fall for each other even through all their differences. This one I couldn’t put down, it was so good. If you are looking for something to curl up with on a cozy and comfortable Saturday, this is your THING!! Don’t forget to curl in with a blanket and hot mug of coffee before you get started!  

Five years of Christmas (oneshot) by @deanssweetheart23

This is a life worth’s contentment packed in a single fic, neatly wrapped and gifted to you. The words have the softness of petals and the harshness of shards of ice that pierce you and then you die! But then come back later. The author doesn’t only make fiction out the words…. she makes poetry. It flows, straight into your heart. Now, you might think I am being cheesy, but read the fic and then come back. We’ll see who is cheesy then! But seriously, y'all need to get behind this. It is the freaking best. I am in love <3

Nominated by @ellen-reincarnated1967

Red String of Fate (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten

Sweet, serendipitous, a bit heartbreaking, and an 'Ah ha! Yes!!!' ending!!! Honestly, I'd recommend everything on her masterlist, but I've been saving this one for a rainy day read and was not disappointed!

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

What Could Have Been (series) by @flamencodiva

Holy moly, this series is killing me. SO MUCH ANGST, yet there’s sweet stuff mixed in there, too. Every day, I look forward to seeing if there’s a new chapter posted!

The Cursed (series) by @saxxxology

This series was posted before, and Saxxxy edited it and reposted it, and it’s fabulous, now! It’s got an intriguing premise, Sweet and protective Sammy, and super hot Alpha!Sam smut! *shiver* It’s awesome! 

Her Saviours (series) by @bamby0304

This series is giving me a heart attack. There’s John, there’s Sam, there’s Dean, but John’s gone, and Sam’s recovering from Jess’s death, and Dean is sweet but has his wandering eye. It’s ABO, and there’s so much love and heartbreak and hormones that I honestly can’t wait for the next chapter to post!

Wishverse (series) by @crashdevlin

This series is a sequel to another series, A Hard Ten. After what happens in Hard Ten, the reader gets her wish and goes back in time, getting the chance to metaphorically turn left instead of right. It’s got sweetness and smutty smut and angst and everything you could ever want! Seeing how everything plays out is fascinating as hell, and I can’t wait to see where this ends up!

Nominated by @samsexualdeancurious

The Cursed (series) by @saxxxology 

This is a repost of one of the many fabulous fics that were lost when Saxxy’s blog got deleted, so a lot of people have already read it at least once. It hasn’t gotten many notes this time around, though, which is an absolute crime because this fic is just as amazing the second time around as it was the first.

Bitten (series) by @saxxxology 

I am head over heels in love with this fic. It has a perfect blend of angst, fluff, and smut, and I’ve been enjoying every word of it.

Tomorrow (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage 

This fic is so cute! I love Dean so much, especially in this fic. Rhi writes him so well and every word out of his mouth is just so Dean is hurts. Also, I can guarantee most of us have at least felt the way this reader does, which makes this fic even more perfect.

Forbidden (oneshot) by @becs-bunker 

This fic murdered me. I am dead and writing this from my suite in Hell. Crowley says “hi” and that he agrees this fic is perfectly sinful. It’s not a fic for anyone who doesn’t like Wincest or Full House of Wincest, but it’s definitely a fic for me.

Playing Victim (oneshot) by @crispychrissy 

Ugh, yes. Gimme all the Sub!Dean/Dom!Reader. There’s simply not enough of that in this fandom and Chrissy nails it so well. Also, the gif she used? Should be illegal.

Three Kisses (oneshot by) @impala-dreamer  

I was dying by the end of this fic. A little angsty, a lot sexy, and then fucking hilarious. Rebekah writes Sam and Dean so well, especially Dean’s snarky big brother side, and I love it.

Nominated by @manawhaat

Let Me Carry You (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!!! Ugh, this fic hurts so fucking good. It’s soft, it’s brutal, it’s so sad it splits you at the seams and makes a home in the hole it punched in your chest. But most importantly, it gives you hope. There’s an honesty that’s written into this story, into Dean and into the reader, and that kind of love and care in crafting this short fic is all anyone could ask for <3

The Truth about Lust (series?) by @scorpiongirl1

Ho, ho, HOLY SHITBALLS! THE DUB CON! This entire thing rides my borderline of fuck no and fuck yes EXCEPTIONALLY WELL! Unf! The story is believable and the way Sam reacts to what’s happening to him is so on point. The remorse and apologies, the snarly growly creature of sex, the restraint and the care he takes for the reader when he literally is dying of lust...jesus fuck. It’s all so Sam. Read it and then go masturbate because, yeah. I did.

Headlights Off (drabble) by @samsexualdeancurious

Yowza, does this girl know how to write that Wincest! Fun, sexy, adventurous, funny. What can I say? It’s everything you want from a wincest fic. 

Free and Easy Down The Road I Go (oneshot) by @samsexualdeancurious

Wincest? Yes. Impala? Yes. Nipple clamps on a slightly subby Sammy? Fuck yes. Snarky, smug Dean giving a world class hand job? Oh yeah, you betcha. 

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME WORK AND GREAT FEEDBACK!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be! :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[secret-rendezvous1d]

D E C E M B E R  1 1 T H

REQUEST I don’t know if this is too much of an alternate plot from your story but it would be really cute to write some kind of au if they got married around Christmas!

ASHER’S BACK.

He’s back; I’ve missed the little scamp.

I have a quick update; the next few days may be tricky for me to post because my dad is back in hospital for his second operation... I’ll try my best to get a story up but they make come later than expected. I’m really sorry about that but life calls and it’s much more important so I can only hope you’ll understand if I need time away; I’m not saying I’m not posting - I’m just saying stories may be shorter and posted much later than normal. We’ll have to see when the time comes.

Feedback is welcomed, as always - please let me know what you think of my pieces, send me any constructive criticism you think would help out, any ways to make my writing better, anything. It really helps me and keeps me motivated to write and we get to work as a team to make things better, for me to write and for you to read.

Enjoy! x

C H R I S T M A S  D A Y , 2 0 1 9.

Left. Together.

Right. Together.

Left. Together.

Right. Together.

Her fingers tightened around the bouquet in her hands, the pale-peach ribbon tickling the back of her hand as they shook with nerves and trembled with anxiety, her palms sweating and turning clammy because she hadn’t ever been this much at the centre of attention. All eyes on her, with tears clouding their vision and dribbling down their cheeks, as they watched her walk down the aisle, straight down the middle of two blocks of pews that were full of their closest friends and family. She briefly glanced down to the ground, ever so quickly, and gave them a warning to keep up with the walk and to not give out, not to spark worry amongst everyone when, and if, she stumbled and took a fall before everyone - she was always one who laughed in the face of embarrassment, because she was known for being clumsy, but she didn’t think she could deal with falling on the biggest day of her life. They were covered by the hem of her wedding dress, and hidden beneath the material and already aching her soles, but her feet were adorned with the most gorgeous pair of heels that she had ever seen. diamonds encrusting the toes, delicate swirls and twirls embroidered into the silk, and a heel that must have been close to, but must have ever so slightly missed, six inches.

Don’t trip, she thought to herself as she kept her eyes locked before her.

Her father’s arm tightened around hers, the wedding march echoing around the large and empty space of the church around them, and she was sure he was sniffling and trying his best to hide his tears of joy.

This moment.

This was it.

She was finally getting married... and it wasn’t to the man who seemed to love the idea of having a wife but didn’t understand any dynamic in marriage life; her last engagement had never gotten as far as this one had, which she was more than appreciative of, and it dawned on her that she never really thought about what constant worries she would face on the big day. A sign, she was sure it was, but she was never into superstitions like that. 

Harry stood there, just mere footsteps away from her, and it took everything in her body not to rush down the red floor covering and jump into his arms and barely unable to hide her excitement, showing it off in bouts of cries and sobs because she too happy. Except, she couldn’t - it would have been a story to share with their children, for sure - because all eyes were on her. More tears appearing, more sobs and sniffles (for her mother and Anne) being heard under the distant echoes of the organ and there were wet smiles, no matter where she looked.

Niall sat front row, red cheeks and watering eyes, with a little boy who looked ever so dapper, and much too like his father, in his suit. Des perched on the edge, reaching out to grab her hand and give it a squeeze as she passed by, which she reciprocated with a warm smile. Harry’s aunt and uncle were sitting there with tissues bundled in their hands, his cousins were grinning from ear to ear, her grandmother was seated in her wheelchair and whispering, so proudly to everyone around her, that the beautiful and blushing bride was her granddaughter. A soft cry left her aunt’s lips as she walked past her row, hand hand brushing over her shoulder soothingly, and her younger cousins were cooing about the dress on her body whilst her uncle tried his best to shush them quietly. A soft laugh coming from his lips as he caught eye contact with his grown-up niece and sent her a soft wink.

Left. Together.

Right. Together.

Left. Together.

And before she knew it, she made it to the front. No trip, no stumble, no tumble. Finally standing beside the man who, in just over an hours’ time, would be her husband; the one that she got to spend the rest of her life with, the one that was going to be there when she woke up in the mornings and the one that was going to be last person she saw each day, and the one that got to see her in all of her good times and all of her bad times, being her shoulder to cry on and her reason to smile and laugh each day. Harry was the one to witness life alongside her without any other man, or any other woman, getting in the way. He was hers and she was his.

“You look after my little girl, Harry,” her father whispered as he gave her hand a tight squeeze and pressed his lips to the back of it. The next time he would be by her side, she would be a married woman who no longer needed her father’s comfort as much as she used to because she had Harry to her power her through the bad times. “Thank you, Harry,” he added, placing her hand his awaiting palm, shuffling away with an almost-discrete wipe of his eye.

“You look gorgeous,” Harry whispered. A charming, tender grin on his pink lips, his nimble fingers gripping her hand as he leant across the space between them, bringing the close proximity to nothing. His lips pressing against her cheek, lingering on the curve of her cheek, with such a sweet notion behind it. “Let’s get married, baby,” he murmured, warm breath hitting her skin with each syllable, smiling widely as she let out a soft giggle – the sound that was like sweet caramel to his ears.

*

“The couple have decided to speak their own vows.”

From the very beginning of planning, the date and their vows had been the first thing that they had discussed, Tucked up in bed, after a busy day, with a snoozing Asher upon his chest and the television on a low volume, notebook on her lap and a pen between her teeth as she chewed thoughtfully about the most important aspects of their big day. And, from the get go, they had both decided to give their wedding their very own personal feel to it. Speaking to one another with their own speeches because it felt too recycled to use vows that many people used for their own wedding days. If they were to ask the married couples in their families about whether they had traditional vows, they were more than likely to be told that yes. Yes they did. And Harry and YN, well, they didn’t want to speak meaningless vows; they wanted to make promises to each other. Promises that they would always promise to keep, no matter how tough the going got. They hadn’t ever been a couple who followed traditions, really.

YN had worked hard on writing down what she wanted to say; it took her seconds to decide that her promises to Harry would be thank yous for being such an incredible person in her life, it took her days to write down the beautiful words she wanted to grace him with, and it took her months before she felt that her words were enough to show just how much she appreciated him, his son and how understanding he was of her past.

Harry had spent months practicing and preparing everything that he wanted to promise her; it took weeks to even think about the things he wanted to say and it took many more weeks to make them perfect. Speaking them in the mirror, reciting them when he was baking and confusing the college kids who worked for him because it was more often that he was speaking to himself, asking Niall to give him a run through so that it flowed in the best way and he even asked his mother to read through what he had written down because she cried at anything and if she cried at his vows, for his wife, then they were perfect and needed no more work.

Right here, right now, was the moment he would voice everything he wished to give her in life. Everything that was written down on the piece of paper, in his tremoring hands, would soon be verbal promises that would be informal guidelines, for himself, to follow. To give her the best life she deserved.

“I love you,” he started, a gentle laugh escaping his lips as he sniffled back as a tickle in his nose, his eyes glued upon her face. Taking in every inch, every freckle that dotted her skin and every wrinkle that appeared as she grinned at him. That is look of love, his mother would always claim whenever she caught them in such a intimate stare, and there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that she was whispering it to the closest person to her. If he glanced over his shoulder, he would have seen her whisper just that... and a finger curled into a tissue as she wiped her eyes but he already knew she would cry. Her only son, her youngest baby, was getting married and starting a life of his own and that was enough to make her all vulnerable.

“I love you so much and I promise to love you forever and ever because you own my heart. The whole beating muscle inside my chest,” he brought a fist to the lapel of his jacket and gave it a squeeze, tightening his fingers before releasing the material, “I promise to be there for you until it’s no longer possible for me to be with you. Until you get sick of me, which I can only hope never happens because I don’t think I could ever get sick of you. You’re the best thing, apart from Asher, that I see and speak to and spend time with every day and you’re the reason I smile. You’re the light of my life, that’s what you are, and you couldn’t have come at a better time,” he spoke so softly, so delicately, and it twanged her heart. She could hear how much she changed his life. How much she meant to him. How much he loved her. And, even though he never really spoke the point he was trying to make, it was enough for her to understand that she turned him into the man who was stood before her, gave him reason to live his life, and that she filled the shell of the broken man she had met, two years prior, in the middle of a playground’s field. “You’re the reason I wake up in the mornings because I know that I get to spend another day, another 24 hours, by your side.”

Behind him was a chorus of blubbers; the sound of his mother’s gentle whimpers, the sound of his sister’s distant laughter at just how silly her mother was at crying over something so sweet and romantic, the sound of his aunt snivelling into her husband’s shoulder and his mother-in-law - well, his soon to be mother-in-law - was nothing but short of a running nose to top off her emotional state. His words having touched everyone in the church... not just the woman stood before him.

“I promise to show you my affection and to tell you that I love you every single day, until my last dying breath. The breath that I’ll share with you because we’re never going to spend so long apart. You go anywhere and I’ll follow you,” he swallowed thickly to rid the nerves that bubbled upon his tongue and he gripped the paper tightly, rustling it between her fingers, “you’re the first girl that came into my life after experiencing something so hard hitting and you brought a whole breath of fresh air into my life. Into my son’s life. You raised him as one of your own, never treated him like a chore and you loved him like he was your own flesh and blood. You made me smile again, your made me laugh, you made me realise that love wasn’t just for one special person and, even though it took me a bumpy ride to get here, I’m at my happiest and that’s all because of you. You showed me the better side of life and you taught a lesson to me my son that not all women are brought into our lives to cause destruction and upset and heartache,” his hand brought hers to his mouth and he pressed a kiss to her skin, “you’ve been more of a mother to him than anyone else has been.”

She looked around Harry’s body and gave Asher a cheeky wink, his soft giggle making its way to her ears and she smiled widely. His hand lifting from his lap to wave at her, her fingers wiggling back.

“The best woman in the world, the most loving woman in the world, the most caring and kind and thoughtful woman, and she’s you and,” he laughed and reached forward, to grab her hand in a shaky hold, sniffing wetly and blinking back tears that threatened to spill, “and I miraculously ended up with you. I got you and I get you all to myself now and, for that, I promise to give you the best life. To look after you like you deserve to be looked after and to be there for you when you’re sad. To make you laugh when you need cheering up and to be your shoulder to cry on when you just need to let go of emotion.”

At the first tear that slithered down his cheek, big and fat and juicy yet so soft and gentle as it skimmed his skin, she couldn’t help but let the floodgates open.

“I love you, I’m always going to love you, and that won’t ever change, YN. Myself, and Asher, we’re so thankful to have you around because, God only knows where we’d end up.”

YN hadn’t ever been a silent crier.

She never classed herself an ugly crier but she never cried silently. Her tears always came with sobs or wet laughter, depending on the mood, and this moment was no different. Her bottom lip never seemed to stop wobbling, up and down, and it looked like she gave the impression that she was cold... like the temperature had dropped around her and she was losing heat. Except she looked fine, sounded fine and seemed far too emotional. A smile on Harry’s damp lips as he held her hand tightly, tucking his vows back into the inside pocket of his jacket, before cupping the back of her hand. His thumb rubbing over the top of her knuckles.

“Harry Styles,” she cried, her voice trembling with nerves and the tears that still fell and built up behind her eyelids, “Harry Styles, I absolutely adore you. From your kindness to others and the way you look after your little boy, to the way you put everyone first and then yourself and the way you’re so selfless and understanding of other people and their problems, to the way you saved me from the worst moment of my life and the way that you made me see true love. Everything about you makes me feel so lucky and so happy to be stood here before you, today,” her eyes didn’t seem to want to move from his green eyes, her nose twitching as she let tear after tear break free from her eyes, leaving streaks of running makeup down her cheeks. Mascara clumping around her eyelashes. And she would scold herself for being so careless and not agreeing on waterproof makeup but she hadn’t expected herself to blubber like a baby. At least she never tripped over her own feet... because she would have already started the waterworks for a whole different reason.

“I promise to always be there for you, to never hurt you and to never make you cry.  I promise to always work things out with you whenever we fight, so that we never go to bed angry, and I promise to always kiss you, no matter how much you annoy me. Like when you leave dirty pots and pans around the kitchen and never clean up. Or when you get flour in every possible space and forget to clean it up,” he cracked a smile at that and shook his head, looking down ashamedly, because he had done it far too many times to count and each time he promised to clean up the next time, “I’m always going to be proud of you. Of Asher. Of everything you both do and I promise to be your number one fans whenever you get to show off. I’ll be there, cheering and screaming in support, all the time.”

“I love you,” she nodded, “you’re my Harry. My Mary Berry. My baker boy. The man who will, no doubt, make me fat in years to come because he makes some good banana bread and blueberry muffins,” she laughed, and the crowd seemed to laugh along with her, “I’m proud of everything you do and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life as your wife. As Mrs Styles.”

*

Harry watched her from where he was stood at the other end of the reception hall. A hand shoved deep into the left pocket of his tweed trousers, holding the glass of champagne between the fingers, leaning against the doorframe of the room. His jacket left behind on his seat at the head table, along with his tie and her white heels (that she had kicked off in the car and argumentatively slipped back on to save her soles from the stones of the pavement), leaving him with his rolled up sleeves and a few buttons popped open up his chest. His son sat upon YN’s hip, one arm draped around her neck and to keep himself upright, whilst his other one was bent up and holding a slice of cake to his mouth. Icing sticking to his face, crumbs catching at the corners of his mouth with each bite he took and his fingers looked sticky and like they could do chaos to the white garment adorning her body. He was completely lost in watching the both of them move and shake their hips to the thudding beat of the music that filled the room.

It was like the atmosphere around her seemed to glow, seemed to shine brighter than it had done without her in it, being carried around wherever she moved. He smiled - and his cheeks ached from smiling so much throughout the day but he just couldn’t help it - because it finally dawned on him.

This was his life now.

This was what he was going to get to see, to feel, everyday. Every single day of his life.

He was going to wake up and be reminded, by her body stretched out beside him, that she was his till the end of time. He was going to see her and their son cuddled on the sofa and watching movies together whilst they waited for him to come home. He was going to take Asher to school with her, pick him up with her, and go to school functions with her. He was going to see the flush of her cheeks when they spent some time together, alone, and he was going to be able to make love to her, and only her, whenever they wanted to feel close to one another. No matter the time nor the place. He was going to feel her kisses and her hugs every morning and every night, feel her snuggling against him every early hour, and he was going to make her muffins and bread so she could suffice her sweet tooth and have one with her tea every morning; tea that he made for her.

His life had changed for the better... he was much happier, more in love, than he had ever been and the future couldn’t look any brighter.

[my-sweet-pea]

Hey, could you do one where the reader is like 5 months pregnant with Sweet Pea's baby? And they were already dating for a year before they got pregnant? Also, could it be set in the epusode when Jughead first met Sweet Pea at school and the rwader is with Sweet Pea and yeah!!!!

Combined with:

Could you do an imagine if you’re a Southside girl at Southside High and sweet is your boyfriend? Sweet is super cuddly but also very rough in bed. If you do smut, could you do something about him taking you somewhere during the school day to fuck?

My very first attempt at writing in second person AND writing smut! If it feels weird, I’m really sorry. I’d love feedback regarding whether you guys prefer first or second person since I’ve received a couple questions about it.

Warnings: smut, some swearing, mostly Sweet Pea fluff

Sweetest Baby Daddy - Part 1

Your favourite part of the school day was definitely lunch time. You had an entire half hour to hang with the Serpents and not have to deal with any of the weird stares from your teachers.

Sweet Pea was sitting beside you, eating the pasta dish you had prepared last night. You lived with your boyfriend in a small but homey trailer at Sunnyside Trailer Park with a lot of the other Serpents. You had been living with him for almost a year now. You’d moved out of your father’s house when you and Sweets had been dating for about 6 months.

Fangs said something quietly to Sweets. You couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Sweet Pea tipped his head back and laughed, pounding Fangs on the back roughly. You smiled softly at them; you loved watching the two boys interact.

You looked up as you caught a flash of pink in your peripheral vision. Toni was standing a few feet away from the Serpents table, talking to a boy with dark hair and pale skin. He wore a strange beanie which appeared to have spikes cut into the brim like a crown. They were having a conversation and it didn’t look like Toni was very satisfied with the outcome. She crossed her arms and braced her legs. The boy clapped Toni on the shoulder before turning to leave. Whatever Toni said to him caught his attention for a moment, and he glanced over at the table where the Ghoulies were sitting. He looked back at Toni with a strange look on his face before he glanced over her shoulder at the Serpents’ table. You caught his eye for a second before he looked back at Toni. With a flip of her hair, Toni turned and headed towards your table, looking annoyed.

“Hey, girl. What’s going on?” You called when she was within earshot.

She smoothed her hair over her shoulder and sighed while she slid onto the seat across from you.

“You’ll never guess who that was. Jughead Jones. As in THE Forsythe Pendleton Jones III.”

“No way,” Sweet Pea said, leaning towards her. “That’s FP’s kid?”

Toni nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but Fangs interrupted.

“Where’s he going? He should be sitting with us.”

Toni clenched her jaw and closed her eyes for an instant. “Yeah, that’s exactly the problem. He’s a loner and he thinks that he’ll do better here alone.” She shook her head in annoyance. “He’s going to get beaten up or worse by a pack of Ghoulies.”

“And I’m assuming based on your expression that you already told him that?” you asked knowingly.

Toni snorted and played with her long pink hair. “You had better believe it. Are all men this dumb? Or just the ones we know?” She addressed the latter part of her sentence to you.

With a laugh, you reached out to touch Sweets’ shoulder. “I dunno about dumb. Maybe just stubborn.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Sweet Pea said with a grin, kissing the side of your neck multiple times. He pulled you closer to him, tucking you into his side and nuzzling your hair.

Toni rolled her eyes at him. “Ok, so we all know that the parents-to-be are just disgustingly whipped. But what do you have to say for yourself?” she asked, turning to Fangs.

Fangs shrugged, chewing his food absently. We were all fairly used to Toni accusing us of being dumb at one point or another. She never meant it and she usually followed it up with a bunch of compliments.

You still weren’t completely used to Toni calling you the parents-to-be. You gazed down at your rounding stomach, running your palms over the taut skin. Sweet Pea’s gaze burned into you and you looked up to meet his dark eyes. At five months pregnant, you were used to the sidelong glances and disgusted looks everyone around you would send your way. The only thing you needed was the look of adoration and support that Sweet Pea constantly sent your way. You would occasionally catch him staring with love at your stomach as well. You had no doubt that he was going to be an amazing father.

Sweet Pea looked at his watch and then nudged your hip. Lunch wasn’t over yet, but you and Sweets always left the cafeteria early to have some alone time. You tried to stand, feeling the dizziness and shortness of breath that you had grown accustomed to in the past month. Sweet Pea’s arm was instantly around your waist, as it always was whenever he saw you standing up. You smiled at him warmly.

“How are you feeling?” Toni asked, looking tenderly at your growing belly as she lounged on the cafeteria bench.

“Not too bad, I don’t think? I mean, there are annoying things about growing a human being inside of you, but I think it’s been fairly easy considering the horror stories I hear from other people.”

You ran your hand over your rounded stomach, grinning happily. You didn’t care that people were judgemental; you and Sweets were happy and healthy and ready to welcome the new life you carried. He was attentive to your needs and wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about you.

“She’s a champ,” Sweet Pea said with pride, running his hand up and down your arm.

“You two are disgusting and terrible examples for us poor single people,” Fangs mocked, dodging Sweet Pea’s responding fist with perfect timing.

You laughed at them, shaking your head. Together, you walked down the hall hand in hand. Sweet Pea made it much harder to walk as he cast kiss after kiss on your neck. You giggled, pushing against his chest.

“Pea, how am I supposed to walk with your giant weight on top of me?”

“Well then, the obvious solution iiiiissss-” Sweet Pea said in a goofy voice as he scooped you into his arms and held you close to his chest.

You squealed, clinging to his neck. He took off running down the hallway, veering in different directions to scare you. You dissolved into a fit of laughter at his antics, kissing his neck as he ran. It didn’t take long for him to start getting hot and bothered by the kisses you were leaving on his collarbone. His breathing was coming harder as he slammed into the custodian closet you had discovered a few months ago. With a shudder, he set you on your feet and immediately met your lips with a needy kiss. He tipped your head back, searching your mouth with his usual hunger. He was always so excited for you and your body. The change in your chest that had occurred as your pregnancy progressed only incited his desire even more.

“Come here, baby girl,” he pleaded, even though you were standing as close to him as physically possible.

You let out a groan that shifted into a laugh as he teased the neckline of your shirt.

“That’s it,” you breathed.

Your heightened sensations made his ministrations feel that much more intense. You were panting, gripping the back of his neck tightly. He dipped his tongue into the cup of your bra, catching your nipple with his lips. You cried out slightly, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

There were no cameras in this closet, and it was one of the few rooms with a door that fully closed. The custodians didn’t often make their way into the closet as they were usually focused on drug and human waste cleanup. When you had initially discovered the closet, the first thing Sweets suggested was a quickie. Knowing him and his insatiable hunger, you readily agreed. Now it was your go-to spot to make out or have a quickie at lunch.

Sweets pulled your shirt over your head, sighing happily as he took in the sight of your body. His hands ran up your sides to cup your breast. He trailed a line of kisses from behind your ear to the sweet, tender spot on your neck. You moaned, arching into his hand and breathing heavier.

With a sigh, Sweet Pea pulled back and undid the button on your jeans. He slipped his fingers beneath your panties, moaning in unison with you when he felt how wet you already were for him.

“Princess, you’re incredible,” he gasped.

He shimmied your jeans and panties down your hips, and then ripped off his own shirt with your help. You pushed against his bare chest, kissing him hard and with immense need as your hands searched each other.

Sweets slid a finger inside of you and you tried to stifle your moan. He moved with you as your hips began to shift. He let out a humming moan against your lips, pushing you back against the shelf behind you. With his free hand, he encircled both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. You let out a soft mewl of excitement.

“Sweets. Please. I want you,” you whispered softly trying to curl one of your legs around his hip.

He groaned in response, undoing his pants and throwing them to the floor while keeping your arms high above your head. With his fingers, he teased your opening and your clit torturously. You pulled against the restraint of his hand, wanting to touch him. Your heavy breathing mingled with the sound of his fingers teasing you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he slid inside of you. You cried out, clenching around him as he filled you. Sweet Pea stopped for a moment, looking deep into your eyes before he started moving. He pulled your arms high above you, your chest sticking out as your back arched in response. His lips closed around your nipple, sucking and licking as he moved inside of you.

As he moved faster, he dropped your arms and gripped the underside of your thighs with his large hands. He lifted and pushed you against the shelf as you wrapped your legs around his hips in response. With a moan, he moved urgently. You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the growing heat building in your belly. He let go of one thigh to circle your clit while he pounded into you.

“Fuck yes, love, that’s it. Fuck me,” he hissed.

With a cry, you came undone, riding your orgasm as he pounded into you. He came an instant later, pressing his forehead against yours

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. You didn’t often pay attention in your classes, preferring instead to daydream and chat with any nearby Serpents. You texted Sweet Pea a couple of nude photos you had taken the other day as the end of class neared and you got more and more bored, and he reacted by storming out of his class. While that wasn’t your original intention, you couldn’t help but laugh.

As the final bell rang, signalling freedom, you slowly pulled yourself to your feet, leaning on the desk heavily. When the dizziness passed, you made your way into the throng of students filling the halls.

“Hey, princess!” you heard Sweet Pea call from somewhere to your left.

As you turned, the students parted to allow Sweets through unhindered. He pulled you in for a deep kiss followed by a full body bear hug. He ran his fingers up your back, kissing your hair as he inhaled deeply.

“Missed you,” he whispered near your ear.

“Missed you more,” you sighed back, smiling happily into his strong chest.

Sweets pulled back and cleared the path for you to finally reach your locker.

“Thanks for those pictures, by the way,“ he said with waggling his eyebrows. “So what are our plans for tonight?” he asked, leaning against a nearby locker and scowling at passing students. “I was thinking the quarry? I invited everyone out there tonight.”

“Could we maybe just stay in tonight? My ankles feel swollen or something. I’m just not feeling up to socialization,” you sighed.

“Of course,” he readily agreed, a devilish smirk sliding across his face. “Movies and cuddling on the couch?” he leaned forward to whisper.

You smiled happily and let out a breath. “Yes, that sounds amazing!”

As you walked to the parking lot, you passed by Jones Jr. in the hall. He cast a sour look in Pea’s direction. You frowned in response.

“What was that all about?” you asked Sweet Pea.

He shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like that I called him out for using the Serpents when he feels like it. He isn’t actually a Serpent, and it’s dumb that he thinks he can avoid us while still making us do a bunch of favours for him.”

You brushed his arm with your hand gently. “I’m sure he’s just rattled right now. He lost his dad and he’s being forced to switch high schools. He’ll learn pretty fast that we’re the best family he’s going to have right now.”

Sweet Pea grunted in response, sending me a little smile.

When you both arrived in the parking lot, you headed for Sweets’ pickup truck. He had switched to using the truck as soon as you found out that you were pregnant. He didn’t want to risk anything happening on his motorcycle, even if he was an amazing driver. You passed the Serpents where they were getting ready to leave for the quarry. You and Sweet Pea stopped to let them know that you wouldn’t be joining them. Toni groaned and Fangs laughed, neither of them really that surprised.

You hauled yourself up into the seat of his truck with a lot of help from Sweet Pea. His fingers lingered on your hips and he brushed a delicate kiss across your open mouth.

“It’s cuddling time!” he said in a happy voice.

You rolled your eyes at his exuberance. “Just get me home in one piece, Pea.”

He scoffed at your concern, moving to his side and buckling himself in. The ride home was uneventful since Sweet Pea drove like his driving test was taking place whenever you were in the vehicle.

Back at the trailer, you tumbled through the door, excited to be home. With a sigh of relief, you shed your school clothes and pulled on your pyjamas. Sweets stood in the doorway, watching you get changed with hungry, admiring eyes.

“Hey there, baby girl,” he said in an admiring voice.

You smiled coyly at him and wiggled your hips as you tugged down your shirt.

“Hey yourself, handsome,” you responded quietly, stepping forward to wrap your hands around his neck.

He leaned down and scooped you into his arms, nuzzling his face into your neck. He let out a shaky sigh.

“Touching you in any way is my happy place.”

You let out a loud laugh before you could stop yourself. “You’re such a softie. I love you.”

Sweet Pea let out a growl in response. “How dare you. I should let you know that I am in fact the baddest of asses in this here town. Everyone quivers in fear before me.”

You shrugged, tangling your fingers in the bottom of his hair. “I mean, most people do, but I know the truth,” you asserted. “You love me, so I get to see your little marshmallowy centre.” You finished with a soft poke to his chest.

Sweets laughed and agreed, carrying you to the couch. He set you down and tucked a soft blanket around your legs. He kissed your stomach gently, smiling up at you as he did so. With some expert manoeuvring, Sweets settled behind you on the couch, pulling you into his chest so that he could nuzzle your neck and leave soft kisses on your skin.

As Sweets was reading off the short list of movie choices, you suddenly felt a jolt in your stomach. You gasped, hands shooting to clutch at your rounded belly.

“Sweets! I think…..I think I just felt our baby kick?!” you whispered in awe, interrupting his tirade about whichever movie he was describing.

You had felt the baby moving before, but this wasn’t the same thing. This was a sharper, quicker motion. You felt what could only be a foot strike your hand against your stomach and you burst into tears.

Sweet Pea’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. He gently placed his hand beside yours, feeling for the baby. He didn’t have to wait long. After a couple of seconds, the baby kicked again. Sweets gasped, looking at you in awe.

“You’re amazing,” he cried, pulling you even closer to him so he could wrap his body around yours.

You laughed through your excited tears, letting him cuddle you. There was nowhere else you would rather be than in his arms.

[featherymalignancy]

36,37,38,39 for the ask thingy

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

I think ff.net is the easiest because of formatting, etc. but tumblr is nice because one reblog from someone can bring a story back to life, and it really helps with motivation when you’re getting positive feedback!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Like a Lonely House--This is project that just sort of sprang into my head fully formed, I hope I will be able to do Nessian justice. I am excited to plumb Nesta’s depths though because I think she is so much more than even SJM lets her be. We’ve all seen the steel and fire--I hope to show you something different.

For Better or For Worse--working title, but this is the  Elriel modern AU that started with the prompt “Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” I got the prompt a long time ago and grappled with how to frame it the way it was in my head. In the end, I was really happy with how it turned out, and what was going to be a two-shot is now going to be at least four parts, with the possibility of more later. Shout out to the Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots™ team, @sncinder @katexrenee @rosehallshadowsinger

Talk about a review that made your day.

Not to be cheesy, but every review makes my day. Writing is like shouting into the dark, and comments are someone shouting back. Probably the greatest response I’ve ever gotten was the amazing @sncinder drawing a scene from Tender Jar, which was so incredible I honestly didn’t know what to do with myself. I was at work when I saw it and honestly it was an EFFORT not to either squeal or just start sobbing.

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

People on ff.net can be pretty brutal, though I haven’t had a flame in a while. I will admit that in my younger days, an anon left a comment on one of my ongoing fics, which was 400K words by the way, and said that if I didn’t care about the story enough to update it, I should just tell everyone how it ended. Not gonna lie, I absolutely exploded on her and said some things I probably shouldn’t have. Still, it was such a low blow, I get mad every time I think about it.

Thanks for asking!

Ask me more writing questions here!

[impala-dreamer]

Of Greens & Blues

SPN FanFic

~Your life is suddenly perfect, and you have everything you’ve always wanted. But somethings are too good to be true.~

Dean x Reader, Sam, Mary, Castiel (Briefly)

3,216 Words

Warnings: The fluffiest of fluff wrapped in an angst burrito.

A/N: Someone better either hug or slap me soon, I’m not sure what’s going on...

Feedback is GOLD ~ My Masterlist

He walked out of the fog, his gun held high, brows tight over searching eyes. He looked like a hero fresh off the big screen; handsome and tall and ready for anything.

His boots echoed through the empty street as he ran to your side, kneeling down to scoop you up into strong arms. He checked you over quickly before pulling you against his chest. Big hands held you tight, cradling your neck and shoulders as he whispered into your hair.

“It's OK, Princess. I got you.”

Tired and aching but finally safe, you pulled back to look into the face of your savior. Your hand rose to lay against his stubbled cheek, gently urging him to lean down to you.

When your lips met, it felt like Heaven opened its arms to you. This was it, he was it, your true love; and you were never letting him go.

Time moved quickly with Dean by your side. Life happened all around you, cases came and went, new traumas scared your hearts, but your hands were always clasped; you got through it together.

Even in the worst of times, when it seemed like all was lost, Dean was happy. He found any excuse to fold his arms around you, playfully nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. He held your hand in public, gleefully announcing to anyone and everyone that you were his girl, and they should take two steps back or incur his wrath.

He brought you little treats, always wrapped in bright green ribbon. Some days they were simple things like a candy bar, or a stone he thought you'd like the looks of; just little things to let you know he was thinking about you. On special occasions, Dean went all out, gracing you with diamonds and silver necklaces that he carefully placed around your neck with a kiss. Not a single dumb anniversary went uncelebrated by him, from the day you first met, to the day you first said I Love You.

He kept you company through it all, the good days and bad, the nights when you felt like crying for no reason, and the mornings you jumped up with excitement. Always and forever, Dean was right by your side; loving and kind and open and happy. It was perfect.

“Y/N…” A whisper fell against your lips, the warm air making you shiver in your dream. “Y/N… wake up, Beautiful.” Lips pressed against yours and your sleeping mouth opened to them. His tongue was hot, his kiss deep and slow as he coaxed you awake.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and were met with brilliant blue irises that smiled down upon you. “Good morning, Princess.”

Blue.

You blinked, trying to shake yourself awake, and Dean quickly kissed your troubles away. His calluses fingertips tickled your collarbone as they slid slowly down your body. When you laughed, Dean pulled away and rolled over, propping himself up against a mountain of white pillows.

You stretched and rolled to your side, tucking yourself into his hip. “Mornin’.”

Dean drew lazy circles on your bare shoulder as your worried dreams melted away. Everything was fine. He was happy, you were happy; everything was good.

“Y/N,” he said, nervously clearing his throat. “I… I have something for you.”

With your interest piqued, you sat up on one elbow and watched as Dean leaned over and pulled a small green velvet box from his night stand.

You smiled and tried to imagine what anniversary you had missed this time. “Oh, Dean,” you laughed. “You are too good with these silly dates. What's today? The first time I cooked you breakfast? The eight month anniversary of the time I stole your sweatpants? Side note, I'm still not giving them back.”

He chuckled as his fingers shook over the box. “No, nothing like that.” He slid down on the bed until he was eye level with you, turning over to face you properly.

“So… what's up?”

“I love you,” he said honestly, his eyes echoing the sentiment as they bore into yours.

“I love you too,” you replied through a smile.

“I never thought...I don't deserve you, I really don't. But you make me so incredibly happy, and I never want to let you go.” A hint of sadness, perhaps desperation crept into his deep voice as it cracked around his words.

Before you could reassure him, Dean held up the green box and lifted the lid. A huge, princess cut diamond ring lay against the emerald velvet and your heart fluttered wildly in your chest.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Winchester?”

Everyone was there.

Though you knew it was a farfetched idea, and there was zero budget for a grand wedding, Dean had insisted on giving you the fairytale ceremony you'd always dreamed of.

How he pulled it off, you weren't sure, but on June sixteenth, you and Dean Winchester stood on that cliff in Scotland and spoke your vows.

He had been amazing throughout the entire engagement. He took you to every dress store within a hundred miles of Lebanon until you found your dream dress. He happily relented when you insisted he wear a tuxedo, complete with cumberbun and bow tie. He even agreed to write his own vows. Dean went above and beyond, his only worry the entire time was whether or not you were happy.

The wind was light and warm and lifted your veil as Sam led you up the hill. The grass was perfectly green, and despite the usual Scottish weather, the sun was bright, as if Heaven was blessing your nuptials.

You held tight to Sam's arm as the soft ground moved under your tiny heels, and he patted your hand gently, smiling down warmly at you.

“I'm really happy for you guys,” he said with a grin.

“Thank you, Sam.” You pressed your head onto his arm and set your eyes ahead, watching as Dean watched you.

He looked amazing. His tux was fitted just right, his hair parted and slicked back; his smile bright.

His tongue pressed between his teeth as you finally made it to him, and you looked up to see tears of joy welling in his electric blue eyes.

You stopped short, almost tipping over in the tall green grass, but Sam caught your arm and kept you steady. Distracted, you turned and accepted a kiss on the cheek from your new brother-in-law, laughing slightly as his hair tickled your eyelashes.

“You OK?” he asked in a whisper.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, everything is good. It's perfect.”

Mary came forward and took your bouquet so that you could hold Dean's hands. She smiled happily, overjoyed to be alive to witness such a special day in her son's life. She had accepted you fully from day one, but once the ring slid onto your finger, you'd become her daughter in every sense. There were many late nights sitting up talking over glasses of wine, and she'd even helped you pick out the flowers for your big day.

“Shall we?” Castiel stood tall and proud with his back to the horizon as he waited for you to be ready. He had been honored when you asked him to perform the ceremony, after all, who better to bless a marriage than an Angel of The Lord?

Sam let you go with a final squeeze, and your hands slipped into Dean's. The moment was more perfect than anything you could have imagined, and your heart felt so full that it hurt. A tear spilled from your eyes and Dean scooped it away with a swipe of his thumb.

“No crying today, Y/N/N,” he whispered.

“No crying,” you agreed and gave him a smile

“Everything is good.”

It rained on the first day of your honeymoon, but neither of you minded. In fact, if Dean had his way, you weren't going to leave the hotel suite the entire time anyway.

There was breakfast in bed, and champagne with each meal. Fluffy white bathrobes and giant green pillows; the room was bright and warm, even with the tropical rain falling against the windows.

You made love until you fell asleep, only to be woken up by tender kisses and searching hands. Each time, Dean brought you to the highest of heights, and you rolled together in blissful peace, not a care in the world.

When the rain clouds parted, you walked barefoot on the beach, hand in hand as always. The tide rose and fell against your ankles, and the wind caressed your cheeks with its warm kiss.

As the sunset, lighting the horizon with pink and orange clouds, you bent down to lift a piece of seaglass from the sand. You held the glass aloft, letting the fading sun filter through the smooth, green glass, and Dean watched you with a smile.

“It's beautiful,” he said.

“It is,” you agreed as the emerald entranced you. “It reminds me of something... I can't…” Your head clouded as something snapped inside of you. A sharp pain jabbed at your neck and you yelled as it spread like a fire through your body.

Strange images flashed before your eyes; darkness and fog, rough hands yanking you up, thick ropes binding your wrists.

Dean fell to the ground with you, locking his arms around your body as you began to shake with pain. He called your name again and again, breaking through the vision and pulling you back.

You shot up with a gasp, the blurry film in your mind grinding to a halt.

“Y/N!” Dean's hands were on your cheeks, begging you to come back to him. “Are you OK? Talk to me, Princess.”

His eyes burned like sapphires and you tried to move away, but he held you close, tucking you against his chest. You heard his heart beat, felt his arms tighten around you as you began to settle. He rocked you gently on the sand, humming quietly to distract you, and you breathed easy, pulled from the nightmare.

“Dean…”

He let you go just enough to look into your eyes and press a kiss to your forehead. “Everything is good, Y/N. You're OK.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a smile. “Everything is good.”

The Impala soared down the highway, wind from the open windows whipping through your hair as the world flew by in a bright, blurry green.

Dean looked over at you with a contented smile and threw his arm over the backseat, beckoning you to his side. You slid across the bench seat quickly, and fit yourself under his wing. He was warm and solid, and you melted against him, a happy sigh falling from your lips.

Dean’s attention left the road for a moment as he leaned down to leave a kiss in your hair. You reached up and took his hand in yours, pulling his arm down to wrap around you. The day was perfect.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said calmly as his eyes went back to the horizon.

“What's that, Baby?”

“When we get home, I...well…” he paused, unsure of how to tell you his plans.

You sat up, concerned by his hesitation. “Dean, what's wrong?”

He smiled and moved his arm away from your shoulder to take your hand. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “Nothing. I just wanted to run something by you.”

“OK… so shoot.”

With a mischievous grin, he nodded but did not spill the beans. “I think I'd rather show you.”

The green and white sign proclaiming your usual exit flew passed, but Dean did not turn off the highway. He kept driving for a few miles as you squirmed excitedly in your seat. Whatever he had planned, you were sure it would be amazing. He was perfect, everything was good.

He parked in front of a little blue house, at the end of a quiet looking little street that was lined with perfect green lawns and white picket fences. Dean cut the engine and reached for the door handle.

“Care to join me outside?” he asked with a wink.

“What the heck are you up to, Mr. Winchester?”

“You'll just have to wait and see, Mrs. Winchester.”

He helped you out of the car, and took your hand as he led you to stand in front of the house. It was adorable; light blue siding and white trim, green manicure bushes framing a winding walkway leading to an open front porch.

“What is this?” you asked as your eyes canned the building.

“Welcome home,” Dean said excitedly.

“What?” you turned to him in confusion and he took both your hands in his.

“This is our house now,” he told you. “I bought it for you. For us. I want…” He paused and took a deep breath, nervous to continue. “I had Sam move us out of the Bunker while we were gone. Mom helped him set it all up. It's all ready for you.”

“Dean…” You couldn't help but smile even though something felt off.

“I found a job,” he added. “There's an auto shop a few blocks over, I'm gonna start work there on Monday. It's not gonna pay much, but we'll figure it out. I want you to be happy, Y/N. I want us to have a life here. No more hunting, no more monsters or demons or crazy...whatever. Just you and me. Forever.”

Stunned, you looked back and forth between Dean and the house, your mind reeling from the possibility. It was everything you'd always wanted. A real home, with Dean; no more fighting or near death misses, normal. “Dean, I…”

You looked back once again and gasped as his eyes glowed bright blue. It was wrong, everything was wrong. In a panic, you tried to pull away, but he held your hands tight.

“Y/N, what's wrong?”

His eyes pulsed with the electric color, and your muscles tensed as you prepared to run. This wasn't Dean, it wasn't real, none of it.

“Get away from me!” you yelled as your foot connected with his shin.

Dean dropped your hands as he cringed with pain, and you took off in a sprint, trying to get as far away as you could. You heard him set off behind you, heavy boots slapping the pavement; you heard the car door open and the engine roar.

You raced away, pumping your arms and legs as your lungs burned with the effort. A cautious glance over your shoulder showed the Impala close behind.

The sky darkened around you as night fell too quickly. Headlights shone brightly behind you, lighting the green forest that lined the road. Out of breath, you pushed on, muscles screaming as they tried to carry you down a highway that seemed to stretch on forever. A rock in the road caught your foot, and your pace slowed as you stumbled, trying to catch your balance. As you teetered, you felt a hard crack as Dean rammed the front of the car into your legs. You screamed as you went down, pain tearing through your body as you fell to the pavement.

Tires skidding to a halt, stopping just inches from where you lay.

As the pain pulsed through you, pulled at the ground with bloody fingers, trying to crawl away. You heard the engine cut, the door creak open, boots hit the ground. With tears flooding your vision, you dragged your broken body over the hard ground.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” Dean's voice was dark and terrifying, echoing in your mind as he drew near.

Crack! His heavy boot connected with your ribs, and you shrieked as the bones snapped.

“There's nowhere to run,” he said simply, and reared back to land another swift kick to your side. The bones shattered and you felt the break pierce your lung. You lurched forward and spit a mouthful of blood onto the black ground.

“You stupid, stupid girl.” One more kick flipped you onto your back and you looked up into the wrong color eyes.

Dean knelt down beside you and lifted your head in his arms. He cocked his head and smiled, skin crinkling around the bright blue.

“You could have stayed here forever...with me,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. “We could have been so happy, Y/N. But you had to go and fuck it all up.”

Blood from your lungs filled your mouth and you struggled to breath, your head spinning as the blue grew brighter.

“You could have been so happy…”

“Y/N!”

Your eyes fluttered, so heavy you could barely open them.

“Come on, Y/N/N. Wake up, Princess.”

You could feel his hands on you, feel his warm fingers working at the ropes on your wrists. Your heart was beating so slowly, it thudded in your ears like a lullaby, rocking you to sleep.

“Please, Y/N. Wake up.”

Dean lowered you down onto the wet, freezing floor; the dampness seeping through your tattered clothing. He pressed his palm to your cheek, shaking you gently. His skin was like fire, and his touch opened your eyes.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he whispered, choking around his tears.

You blinked up at him, trying to focus, and finally saw the green you had been missing. His eyes were wet and sad, but the green was there. This was your Dean; you were home.

“Dean...what…” Each breath was painful, and the words wouldn't form.

Dean shushed you, and wiped your cheeks with gentle fingers. “A Djinn,” he sad sadly, answering your empty question. “I'm so sorry, Y/N. We...we couldn't find you.”

“It's OK,” you smiled and then shook as a rolling cough tore through you. “You're here now.”

Dean's face twisted with pain and he closed his eyes, letting down a river of tears. “I'm so sorry, it's my fault.”

“No.” Your shook your head and tried to reach up to take his hand, but your arms were weak and useless. “It's not your fault. I thought I had it covered.”

He had no more words, nothing but the pain in his eyes as they flew over your bruised face.

“I love you,” you whispered as the edges of your vision darkened. “I love you.”

“Y/N, please. Please don't go.”

You smiled and took a deep breath. You could feel it coming, feel the end tapping gently on your shoulder; Death calling after you like an old friend. The pain faded away slowly and your thoughts settled. Everything was good.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Y/N?”

“Kiss me.”

Dean bent his lips to yours and closed his eyes as the tears stung them. He pushed hard against your lips and felt you go. Your mouth parted gently and your last breath fanned over his lips.

Dean held you tight, rocking your cold body in his arms as he sobbed against your neck. He had been too late, as always. Too late to realize he loved you, too late to ever say it, too late to act on it.

And finally, in the end, too late to save you.

*LAST CALL! if your url is incorrect, let me know. Next fic, if I still can’t tag you, you’re off the list...*

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[kingsman-fam]

Enough for Me

Merlin x Reader

Words: 982

Warnings: Nothing, just sad Merlin ( ; ~ ; ) !

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingsman!

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve been trying to write at least one story a day, and this is the result! Not really sure where this idea came from, but I’ve read some stories where the character is insecure about why Merlin chose them, so I thought it’d be interesting to see the reverse!

Please tell me what you think! Feedback is really appreciated and I’d be super grateful! As always, feel free to drop me a message or ask - I’d love to get to know all of you more!

The GIF also belongs to the wonderful mystiquekillme !

Without further ado, enjoy! \ ( ^ U ^ ) /

It was half past two in the morning, on a cold winter’s night, when Merlin returned home.

The suburban neighborhood was silent, save for the quiet chirp of crickets and the faint whistle of the wind. The night’s chill hung in the air, frosting the window panes and marking its icy presence. The lights of the houses had long been extinguished as their owners retired to their beds, ready to sink into Morpheus’ embrace.  

And your home was no exception.

Merlin made his way up the stairs of his darkened house and quietly turned the doorknob of the bedroom. The patter of his footsteps were silent on the carpeted floor - inching ever so slowly to his side of the bed. Sitting on the mattress’ edge, he slipped off his shoes and undid the knot on his tie - discarding the article and tossing it to the floor.

And with movements incredibly careful, he climbed into bed, work clothes and all. He briefly considered getting up to change into something more comfortable, but the idea was quickly dismissed. There was no point to it; he would be getting up soon, anyway.

But that was not what weighed heavily on his mind. That distinction belonged to none other than the woman slumbering quietly beside him.

For a few moments, all he could do was look at your sleeping form - chest rising and falling in even measures, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.  

He sighed deeply.

It was supposed to be your date night; the night he knew you most looked forward to every week. From the beginning of your relationship, to your engagement and subsequent marriage, the two of you would spend your Friday nights together to unwind from the hectic week. Tonight, you had planned for a dinner at one of London’s finest restaurants. The reservation had taken months, and as the date grew nearer, you had repeatedly expressed your excitement over the prospect.  

And yet what had he done? He had ruined your plans entirely. He had been doing so for the past month now. It was the same thing every time: a mission of great importance that he could not bear to leave. Not without compromising the entire operation.  

He had been so caught up in his work that he failed to notice the buzzing of his phone or hear its frequent pings. It was only after the agents had accomplished the task that he remembered your plans. He had flown into a panic - desperate to get there as soon as he could so he could apologize and somehow make it up to you. Unfortunately, one look at his watch dashed all hope. It was already two in the morning; the restaurant was long-closed and you were long-asleep.

He hadn’t even remembered to tell you he was working late.

On the way back to his house, his mind filled with images of you, finally wearing the dress you’d told him about days ago, sitting alone at the restaurant. He could almost see the look on your face as you wondered what was taking him so long, and his heart all but broke at imagining your expression when you finally realized he wasn’t coming.  

He had disappointed you time and time again - and yet what did he find waiting for him at home? A bag of take-away with a note telling him to eat up because he probably forgot to, signed with a smiley face and a heart.

He took another shuddering breath as he raised his hand and stroked your hair with impossible gentleness.

‘I’m so sorry, love.’

What had he ever done to deserve you? He truly wondered, because now his mind could come up with nothing but a blank.

Unable to bear the emotions he had long since held back, he allowed his breath to break off into a silent sob.

He had been so grumpy as of late - stressed beyond all belief - and yet not once did you falter in your patience and understanding.  

Never had he felt more unworthy of your affections than in this moment. You deserved someone who cherished you - who showed up to dinner when you asked. Someone who didn’t say that you were the most important thing in his life, and yet failed to correlate his words with his actions. Someone who treated you like you deserved. Someone who didn’t always disappoint you.  

Someone who wasn’t him.

He couldn’t stop the tears from making their silent trek down his cheeks.

Before he could continue his tirade of self-loathing, however, he felt you suddenly shift in your sleep. Once again, he panicked - fearing he had woken you up despite his best efforts to avoid doing so. But instead you moved closer to him - positioning yourself almost instinctively so you were tucked against his chest, just over his heart. And with a quiet sigh of contentment, you smiled sleepily, slipping back into the land of dreams.

And his heart broke and swelled all at once.

He would never understand it. You deserved so much better than him - someone smarter, someone richer, someone who didn’t endager you just by being with you. You could have had anyone else in the world.

…And yet he was all you ever seemed to want. 

He would never stop thanking his lucky stars for that.

With your breath whistling against his neck, he hugged you closer to his chest and placed an infinitely tender kiss on your forehead.  

He would never be worthy of you - of that he was certain - but he would be damned if he didn’t try. 

After all, you deserved nothing less.

Sighing deeply, he planted one final feather-light kiss to your forehead before he followed your lead - closing his eyes and allowing the gentle current of the night to carry him to sleep.