#and here we have a pair of soft sapphics while my mind seems to be stuck on thinking about that one meme that goes-

[brutalmasks]

[SHOULDER KISS] Passion, desire: an intimate and sensual gesture 🤭

the lighting is dim in the cave that bunny mask now called home in gotham as a storm raged outside. this was actually the reason why her and her companion, a woman named chaz, were now about this close to being plunged into the dark; the electricity having gone out just short of about ten minutes ago that night. bunny actually didn't mind it all that much though as this gave her an excuse to finally finish the only thing that was in her fridge at the moment: multiple slices of cheesecake.

and bunny mask had plenty of candles set up around the place now, too, with her actually just finishing lighting up another one. the match that was still alit being grasped by her fingertips was then raised to her lips so she could blow it out. however, right after doing so, bunny felt a pair of arms wrap around her middle. her lips parted slightly in surprise before she turned to see it was chaz and a smile began to spread across her lips instead. the other didn't seem to be done with the affection, though.

a passionate kiss was pressed to bunny's shoulder before she could adjust her dress afterwards. as if by second nature, she leaned back into the other's touch and held the hands that were crossed over her navel. a sound like a laugh but not quite there yet escaped bunny mask then, ❝ chaz... i suppose this means that all that kissing we did earlier was not enough for you, hmm? not that i am complaining. you are a wonderful kisser. ❞ the spirit found herself in a bit of a teasing mood, her whole body turning to face chaz, and a green-tinted arm wrapping around her neck.

the smile that had melted across her lips was still present on her face as she said, ❝ i was serious about eating the cheesecake, though, so you have to let me go at some point. i am not letting that go to waste. but we could maybe slip in a few more kisses before it goes bad, if you wish to hold me for longer. ❞

[queenaeducan]

We Tame the Sky

Pairing: f!Cadash / Josephine Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No warnings apply

In the quiet before the final approach on Haven, Thora Cadash and Josephine share a moment together in Skyhold's chapel.

Written as a fill for Spronky as a part of the @sapphic-solstice event!

Read on AO3 here.

Sitting in the quiet of Skyhold’s chapel, Thora begins to see why her ancestors favoured the stone so. Being born Casteless she had always been as likely to choose a sun-soaked field over a well-lit cave, but tonight is different. Outside, the light breaks in a sickly green over the Frostbacks, scattering across the sky like a spotlight through the pieces of a shattered mirror. Thunder rumbles without storm clouds, booming with Corypheus’ ambition. Beneath the stone chapel ceiling it's not easy to forget the chaos that threatens to tear their world asunder, but peace seems a little more feasible here. The harsh light of a Breach wrenched open is blocked out by a heavy wooden door, and she sits awash in the scent of incense, beneath the watchful eyes of the Maker’s chosen.

She kneels before Andraste, her hopes and dreams clasped between her palms as they come together in prayer. She sings a prayer for those who will ride beside her into the abyss, perhaps never to return, a prayer for those she’s leaving behind, with nothing but belief to buoy their hopes for the future.

And one for herself, should Andraste have any grace to spare.

“You have walked beside me Down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh. You have stood with me when all others Have forsaken me.”

The prayer for the despairing comes too easily to her, the hymn had played a companion to her countless times through the years, but never had its words rang more clearly in her heart than tonight, as she steeled herself to face Corypheus one last time. She can’t pretend she knows what was in Andraste’s heart as she stood before the gates of Minrathous with her army at her flank, but this is likely the closest she’ll ever come to knowing.

“I am not alone. Even As I stumble on the path With my eyes closed, yet I see The Light is here.”

Though the chant evokes the Maker’s light, it’s no longer His face she sees as she closes her eyes, lips pressed against her thumbs in reverent devotion. Before Him come the faces of her friends, the brilliance of Cassandra’s sword as it cleaves through their foes, the glow of Solas’ staff as he cuts through the Deep Roads’ dark, the soft gleam in Josephine’s eye as a smile spreads her lips. Heavensent or no, those were the lights that had gotten her this far.

“There you are.” The sound of Josephine’s voice startles Thora from her prayer, with thoughts of her so near at hand she’d almost thought she imagined it. She looks over in time to see her step lightly through the door, her slippers just a whisper against the floor. “I had thought to find you in the garden, but…” The distant roar of the Breach completes her thought in fewer words. She’d often take her evening prayers beneath the bows of the maple trees, preferring their sanctuary to the small chapel that harboured most of Skyhold’s believers, but she’ll find no peace under them tonight— nor any night until her job is done. Josephine’s lips turn in a smile, a practised expression Thora had seen persist in the darkest circumstances, but it strains now. “Well, what matters is I’ve found you now.”

Thora’s words stick in her throat, all she can do as she rises to her feet is stare dumbly. There always seems too much to say between herself and Josephine to know where to begin.

Thankfully, Josephine always seems to find a way. “I suppose it won’t be long now,” she says.

“It’s just a matter of time.” She wishes they could find anything other than the oncoming fight to talk about, but it may be asking too much of them both. Corypheus is difficult to ignore even at the best of times, now that the ruins of Haven tremble at their doorstep every thought is stained by his influence. “I thought I’d see if I could get a few words in before we set out.”

This time the smile that graces Josephine’s features sneaks up on her, chased by a short breath of laughter. “If it’s good fortune you’re after, I may have just the thing.” Before Thora can so much as ask, the ambassador produces a flag of cloth from the folds of her doublet, flourishing it with a street magician’s flair. “Do you recognise it? The pattern, that is.” She proffers it forward, supporting the fabric with the tips of her fingers so the image lays flat before her eyes. She doesn’t need long to know what she’s looking at (she’d spent far too many hours looking for the blasted thing to ever mistake it): a proud ship sails across an unruly sea, the bow cutting through choppy waves and rendering them calm.

“Your family crest…”

“Soon its likeness will fly above a fleet of ships that will rival the great houses of Antiva, but this one is yours.”

“Mine?”

She nods. “My favour may not have the same weight as Andraste, but if it can accompany you where I cannot, then I give it gladly. May I see your hand?”

Thora immediately extends her right arm, then draws it back just as quick. “No, wait,” she says, offering forward the other, fingers closed into a loose fist to contain the faint buzz of the Anchor. “This one could probably use it more.”

“Naturally.” She winds the handkerchief up so it resembles a bracelet, coiling the fabric up like a rope and measuring it against her slender wrist before she tries Thora’s. Curled ringlets coil around her ears as she leans over to tie it properly, and in all the chaos of Corypheus’ attack she’s still found the presence of mind to perfume herself. Thora discovers this herself as she breathes slowly, and tries to forget her daydreams. “I’m afraid I’ve little else to offer but my hopes, Corypheus has proven most resilient to my charms.” The fabric slides across the smooth finish of her gauntlets without purchase, and then again, each time reset by the patient hand of Lady Montilyet. At last it catches against the details, winding around dwarven runes that spell the Cadash house words in an alphabet that rarely saw sunlight. The sight of her words and the Montilyet crest winding together around her wrist moves something in her. It creeps up her ribs and into her throat and blossoms. Not for the first time since they’ve met, Thora finds herself grateful you can’t choke to death on love.

She ties the knot once, twice, and Thora thinks she sees some reluctance as they fall away to her sides. “May you tame the sky as we tamed the sea, Lady Cadash,” she says in a trembling voice, her words straining against her fears.

“Josephine, I—” Brown eyes rimmed with tears look up at Josephine. The sharp end to her sentence is a keen reminder that while she can’t choke to death on love, she sure can still choke. “I’m…” What she wants to say more than anything feels selfish to say, now more than ever, when her death is so near at hand. What good would it do her to die with no regrets, if it meant sentencing Josephine to a lifetime of them? She grinds her hopes beneath her heel, and tells herself that, should she live to see morning, there’ll be nothing stopping her anymore.

Even if it’s a lie, it’s a lie that can get her through this moment.

“Thank you,” she manages after a moment of tear-induced silence. “I’m... I don’t- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” She folds her hands around Thora’s, cupping the armour-clad knuckles between tender fingers, like her glove was wrought with silk and not steel. “Just come back to us, please.”

Her heart constricts with the burden of a promise she may not keep. The sky calls her name, spelling her doom in the air with the ruins of her first failure, but Josephine’s words have worked miracles for her before. “I’ll do my best, I always— oh.” A distant horn blows, signalling her departure, and their farewell. Eyes laced with tears, she turns to the statue of Andraste as though she were a friend forgotten in the tide of the conversation. “I didn’t get to finish.”

The threads of Josephine’s smile start to unravel, grief twisting the manners from the corners of her lips. “I will finish it for you, Inquisitor,” she says in a voice laid thick with tears she wants desperately to dab from her cheeks. “Go with Andraste’s grace.” Her hands tremble as they release Thora’s, only finding stability as they lace together in prayer. As her footsteps echo with her retreat, she hears Josephine’s voice lift in song, words burdened with her weeping but warm with the Maker’s light.

“Draw your last breath, my friends. Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, And be Forgiven.”

[monaownsmyass]

Going Out Of My Mind In My Mind

Requested fic by anon. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: My First Two Loves

Pairing: Ava Lawrence x MC (Emma Price)

Genre: Fluff but make it angsty

Rating: PG13

Warning: Mild homophobic comments

Word Count: 3,611

A/N: Ava is in love with her best friend. She gets lost in her own thoughts while contemplating if she should reach out to MC. Firstly, I wanna say I’m so sorry to the anon that requested this if they wanted a more light-hearted fluff fic lmfao. If you did, please send me another ask lol. Secondly, I wanna apologise to my fellow wlw for including a little homophobia. It’s not that harsh or mean, but it’s there. I thought including it would better portray a realistic encounter of what it’s like to be a wlw accepting her sexuality and exploring her feelings.

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard @satrinadia @toalltheboysididntlove @mypegasifly @queen-arabella-of-cordonia (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

The first time I realised I was in love with my best friend was... well, I'm not sure if I'm being honest.

But damn, if that's not the most generic, cliché plot ever for every sapphic film and story ever, I'm not sure what is. However, there was always some truth to fiction and I was no exception.

That was my life. Generic and cliché. Popular high school captain of the cheerleaders who lived in the suburbs and came from a middle-class family that has dated the school's famous golden-boy quarterback.

For far too long, everything was normal. Too normal. Painfully normal.

That is, of course, until I started realising I had feelings for my best friend that was very much into guys. As I've mentioned, I couldn't pint-point an exact date or incident but like a hurricane, it was sudden even though there were warnings signs and it was just as destructive, uprooting and destroying everything I thought I once knew, a force to be reckoned with.

It was utter chaos in a seeming perfect picture but for the first time in my life, I felt alive.

Emma Price was my hurricane. Whether that was a good or bad thing, that was up for debate. All I knew was that I wanted her in my life and didn't care if it wasn't the best idea or if it would hurt me. I just wanted her to be with me.

I think that's the funniest thing about finally having a genuine, heart-wrenching, crush on someone. Even the smartest people get dumb, the most cautious are reckless and the logical becomes irrational. Everything that made sense doesn't anymore because why the hell are you doing things you normally wouldn't do for someone that doesn't even like you back?

I learnt that first-hand and I wished someone would've warned me before that. Not like I would've believed it but at least it would be playing at the back of my mind. An echo in the distance, a nagging voice.

I did the stupidest stuff once I was certain I was in love with Emma. I knew I was in love with her but I was in denial and did things I regretted. Dating other people, trying to make her jealous, downplaying my feelings when I saw her with Mason or Noah. Pushing her away and avoiding her instead of talking to her...

It's different, falling for your best friend. Feelings and signals are mixed, emotions are at a high and everything is just one confusing mess of a relationship that was once simple and innocent.

And now, here I was, laying on my bed, staring at my phone as if it would magically tell me the right thing to do if I looked long enough. It didn't, of course. I sighed, wondering if I should shoot Emma a text. It's been some time since we just talked for fun and I missed her sorely.

Procrastinating, I swiped through my home page. My eyes caught sight of a certain app that I opened ever so often whenever I was missing my best friend.

~*~*~

"Come on! Just download it!"

I scrunched my nose up. "Give me one good reason why."

"Because you’re the best friend in the whole world and you'll do anything I say because you love me?" she said jokingly while batting her eyelashes at me but my heart started racing.

I was acutely aware of her hand on my thigh and the way she leaned into me. My breath hitched at her nearness even though we've been closer before.

That was something else about having a crush on your best friend. Suddenly, everything felt like too much. Every word, every touch, every damn single thing was overwhelming and honestly? It was exhausting. Not only is it emotionally tiring, you go into this weird phase of wanting to savour everything they do and you can't help but wonder why you didn't appreciate these small moments before. You can't help but feel as if you've wasted them all.

If she could sense me stiffen, she didn't show it 'cuz she just went on. "Also, it's about a cartoon cat that eats to save the world! What's not to love?"

"That sounds ridiculous, Em," I laughed. "What's the game called?"

"Dopey Cat!"

"Oh god," I groaned. "That makes it sounds much worse."

"Or much better!" She nudged me and I felt a jolt go up my arm. I always wondered if these simple touches felt the same to her. "Do it"

"Alright, alright!" I giggled and surrendered. "Only 'cuz I'm such a great friend."

"Yes! And like I said," Emma leaned in and my heart dropped to my stomach. "The best."

She gave me a slow, soft peck on my cheek and rested her head on my shoulder, clinging onto my arm and leaving me a flustered mess.

~*~*~

I thought about that moment often. More often then I'd like to admit. Every time I did, the same thoughts would always come to mind.

What would've happened if I kiss her? What if I just turned my head right before her lips touched my skin? Would she have kissed me back? Would she push me away? Maybe she'd say she felt the same way about me.

But that didn't happen, so all I could do was wonder.

And wonder I did.

Being in my room like this, doing nothing, it really did make my mind go everywhere. I've dreamed and cried and laughed and screamed and doing nothing was suddenly the most taxing thing I've ever done. Doing nothing when you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back was the most dangerous thing 'cuz they’re already always on your mind but when you're doing nothing, your thoughts just spirals down an endless pit of possibilities that'll never happen and ultimately, you get hurt.

But knowing this, I still let my thoughts spiral anyway. How could I not when the joy and peace I got from imaging a world where her and I were together was worth the pain and heartbreak?

'Cuz figment of my imagination or reality, it didn't matter, she was worth it.

I've imagine us on dates, having picnics, watching movies, going on road trips, sleeping over, laughing over nothing, at the park, at the beach, in a field, in our rooms.

I've thought about us dancing in the living room at 12 a.m., huddled in bundles of blankets on a cold night, singing along to our song while making breakfast, staying up under the night sky and talking about everything and nothing until sunrise, being able to introduce her as my girlfriend and kissing her whenever I felt like.

I've dreamt about us so much as a couple that I've accidentally mistaken reality for fiction but like I've said, there's always some truth to fiction.

~*~*~

"Congrats on being co-captains, guys!" Iris wished us enthusiastically, practically jumping up and down.

"Seriously, you guys totally deserve it," Toni agreed.

"Thank you!" Emma said.

"You two are the best duo! Our cheer squad is gonna rule with you both leading us!"

"Thanks," I said and pulled Emma in for a side hug, feeling goosebumps from the contact. "We do make a pretty great couple."

I immediately froze when I realised what I said and mentally kicked myself. 

God, that was so stupid! Why was I so careless? I should watch what I say!

That wasn't the first time I've done it and I was sure it wasn't the last, but just like how Emma was always the only one to mess up my constant, she was the one difference between all the other times and this time.

She had never heard me refer to ourselves as a couple but while I was beating myself up, Emma handled the situation coolly. She slid her hand in mine and squeezed which did nothing to calm my wrecked nerves.

"We definitely sure would! She the sweetest, more caring person in the world and I'd be so lucky to call her mine." She leaned into me and gave me a nudge but all I could do was stare at her, eyes wide and brows raised.

Her deep brown eyes locked onto mine and I swear I could feel the spark between our gaze. And what was that I saw in her eyes? Longing? A hint? I wasn't sure but I could've sworn there was something else I couldn't quite decipher. Then again, I didn't really trust my thoughts. If it could make me believe we were actually a couple, why would I ever trust it in this situation? How could I?

I'm not sure how long we were staring at each other 'cuz to me, it felt timeless. We only broke apart when we heard someone making a retching sound.

"Gross! Go get a room," Lauren said as she walked towards us. "No one wants to see two lesbos in action."

I felt her hand fall out of mine and suddenly, I felt very vulnerable.

"You don't have to be rude!" Iris defended.

"Yeah, Lauren, no one asked," Toni agreed.

Emma spoke up. "Go away, Lauren. No one wants you here." She said it in an almost tired manner. She was done with putting up with her and it showed.

"Aw, protecting your lesbian lover? Cute," Lauren rolled her eyes and walked away. "Whatever, later, losers!"

"Don't listen to her," Toni said after Lauren left.

But how could I not?

"Hey, Ava?"

I could hear the sweet voice of best friend calling out to me but it was distant.

Everything was. I didn't feel like I was in my body. All my senses were numb and I felt nothing. Nothing except the raging white heat within me. I was having an out of body experience in the worst way possible and for a moment, I didn't feel human.

~*~*~

Then Ava was definitely different from Now Ava. Then Ava wanted to cry and run as far as she could. But she couldn't. She was paralysed with fear and embarrassment. Now Ava would've just laughed and called Lauren pathetic. Maybe even give her a nice slap across the face if she felt like it. But Now Ava wasn't Then Ava, so why dwell on the past?

The thing is, I didn't want to. But like that dull throb at the back of your skull after a concussion, I just couldn't ignore it. You tell everyone you're fine, and for the most part, you are. But that annoying sensation, constantly reminding you aren't, that you just couldn't forget. That was that moment with Lauren.

Her words played in my mind on repeat for the first week after hearing it. Months later that voice was softer and less frequent, but it was still there.

A lot happened in those months. The biggest of all? I finally accepted that I was gay. No, not gay, a lesbian.

That word Lauren had spoken with a jeer, the word she used to insult me, the word that was meant to humiliate me, I was that word.

That wasn't the only time I heard it used that way but it was the first time it was used against me. Lauren's words was a constant reminder in my mind that being a lesbian was an embarrassment, that I was an embarrassment.

Then Ava would feel a chill run up her spine when she heard that word even though it wasn't directed to her. And when it finally was, her soul left her body but of course, that would've been too easy. Her soul leaving her body would've been the easy way out. So instead, she was forced back into reality and had to find a way to deal with it.

Now Ava knew it wasn't a bad thing. Of course she did, she was one, after all. So why did Lauren's words still haunt her?

I still had to remind myself that it was okay. It wasn't gross or immoral or whatever nonsense they put into my mind about girls liking other girls. And every time I did, the madder I got. At everyone that has ever said anything about it and at myself.

Because how dare they tell me how to feel?

And how dare I listen to them when I knew it wasn't true?

I was at peace with it now. I was at peace with being a lesbian. But being at peace wasn't the same as embracing it, owning it. And I'm not sure if I ever will, but I hope I do.

I wasn't out to anyone, and god, I've never felt so suffocated in my life. I couldn't even tell Emma 'cuz I was afraid of how she'd react. Or worse, that she'd assume I have a crush on her. And the worst part, that it was true. That I couldn't even deny it.

Not being able to tell your best friend whom you've always told everything to made me feel like shit. It ate away at me every time I was near her and whenever we were talking. I always wanted to bring it up but I never found out how. Maybe I will soon, but not now.

Emma had always been understanding. Even when she didn't get it, she would try. She wasn't quick to judge nor did she so easily jump to conclusions but I couldn't help but think that maybe, she wouldn't be so understanding. 'Cuz that's what you do when you overthink. You worry about things that you shouldn't and you create false scenarios and you just, can't, stop.

Which was exactly what I was doing right now.

I sighed, catching myself before I could spiral any further and rolled onto my side, staring out of the window with my phone abandoned on the bed.

It started drizzling and it was getting pretty cold. I moved to get under my comforter and wrapped the sheets around me.

And once again, I closed my eyes as my mind began to wander.

If only Emma was by my side...

~*~*~

"Oh my god! Ava! Stop!" she would giggle as I showered her in kisses.

"Nu-uh!" I'd respond and wrap her up in my arms, still kissing her wherever I could reach as we rolled around on my bed, playing.

She'd try to escape but since I'm stronger than her, it's useless. She's trapped in my embrace and eventually, she'd give in and hug me back.

We'd laughed about silly inside jokes as we let our hands linger over each other's bodies, not wanting to let go.

I'd pull her tight and she'd rest her head against my chest as the rain outside got heavier.

I'd shower her in compliments and she'd blush. We'd talk about life, our hopes and dreams and ambitions. Our plans and future together.

"Would you still be with me?" I'd ask her.

"Forever and always, baby," she'd reply and give me a reassuring kiss.

We'd waste away the rest of the day together and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

~*~*~

But that was just fantasy. She's not here and I'm not ready. Not ready to come out to Emma, let alone confront her about my feelings for her.

I took a deep breath before opening my eyes, as if I were physically preparing myself to come back to reality. I glanced at my phone screen that was opened at her chat. I picked my phone up and got ready to type but I hesitated.

Should I do this?

I didn't have much of a choice though, 'cuz my phone rang and lo and behold, my best friend, my crush, the girl I fell in love with, appeared as the caller ID.

My heart sank but my stomach filled with butterflies. This conflicting emotion wasn't a rare occurrence ever since I fell for my best friend but that didn't mean I was used to it. Fear and excitement coexisted where it shouldn't which only left me with a familiar uneasy feeling.

I only stopped for a moment before hitting the 'accept call' button.

"Hi!" I heard that cheery voice of hers ring from the other side of the phone and I could feel my insides warm.

Hey, yourself." I smiled. "What's up, Em?"

"Nothing much, I just feel like we haven't talked that much." She paused for a while before adding shyly, "And I miss you."

The warmth spread to my cheeks. "I really missed you too."

I heard her giggle and god, was it the most adorable sound ever. "Good to know. What have you been up to?"

Figuring out my sexuality and pining over you.

"Nothing much, just the usual." Liar. "What about you?"

"Just been thinking about you," she said casually and my heart fluttered.

I cleared my throat. "Any interesting stories lately?"

I heard another heavenly laugh. "Too many!"

She jumped right into it, not stopping once and honestly, I never wanted her to. Her voice in my ear was a comfort and I held onto it for as long as I could.

We talked and laughed for hours and I didn't even notice until I glanced at the clock on my wall. Time passed too quickly whenever I was with her, I always felt like it wasn't enough. It never was.

But then again, an infinite lifetime with her would still feel too short. 

"And then, Mack ran out of the house with our dad chasing her in only his towel and shower cap with his back scrubber!" she laughed unrestrained, not holding it back and lighting up the entire world with it.

"Oh my god!" I laughed along with her. "How did she even pull that off? I can't believe I missed that!"

"See? This is why you should come over more often!"

I didn't know how to respond but it was fine because she started speaking again.

"Wow, I didn't realise the time! I should probably head to bed."

"Yeah, me too," feeling disappointed that she was gonna hang up soon even though I let out a yawn. "But I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"For sure! Good night, Ava."

"Night, Em."

"..."

"..."

"Are you still there?" she asked me.

"Uh, yeah?" I replied. "Put down the phone."

"No, you!" She giggled.

I smiled from hearing it. "You!"

"Ugh, fine! Bye."

"Okay, bye bye."

"..."

"..."

"Hello?"

"Emma," I breath out in a light chuckle. "Go sleep."

"Okay! Okay, for good this time, bye."

"Bye," I laughed and before I could stop myself, I added, "I love you."

And I shot up, frozen in place. It wasn't what I say, it was the way I did. Soft and vulnerable and definitely not just a friend proclaiming her platonic love to her best friend.

I heard Emma suck in a sharp breath as if she caught onto it too, and the line went dead silent.

"Ava-"

I heard her whisper but I pulled my phone away from me as if it was poison eating away at my flesh and hit the 'end call' button, tossing it beside me. I didn't hear her finish her sentence and I wasn't sure if I could handle it if I did.

Shit!

I hit my palm against my face and slid it down, groaning. How was I gonna face her tomorrow?

Just then, I heard my phone go off. The ringtone I had set just for Emma played and I swear I felt my heart stop.

Nervously, I glanced down at my phone to see the notification that popped up.

'I love you too <3'

Warmth spread through my body and I let out an involuntary grin. I fell back onto the bed with my arm covering across my face.

I glanced back at the message and made a high-pitched squeal that I never in a million years thought would come out of my mouth. Leave it to Emma to make me do things I normally wouldn't.

My heart raced in my chest.

She may not have meant it the way I have but it didn't matter because hearing her tell me she loved me was all I needed.

That was another thing about having a crush on your best friend; the I love you's were up for interpretation.

I placed the phone on my chest and let my arms sprawl out on the bed. Whatever sleepiness I had left my body, there was no way I could go to bed now.

So instead, I let my mind roam but this time, willingly. I let my thoughts free fall through a million different possibilities as the night turned to day. 

I watched the sun rise.

And I smiled.

Because falling in love with my best friend was messy and complicated and heart-shattering. But it was also full of excitement and exhilaration and anticipation.

It was rollercoaster of emotions, full of ups and downs and twist and turns and even loops, but that's what made it thrilling. And for the first time in my normal life, I had something to keep me on my toes.

And I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Was my best friend also in love with me? I didn't know. Would I ever know? Maybe, maybe not. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little curious to know how she feels, be it good or bad. Maybe someday I'll ask her. Maybe I'll get to hold her. Maybe she'll never speak to me again.

But until then, all I had were the stories I've made up in my mind.

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[viciousvales]

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Review: The Dead and the Dark by Courtney Gould (★ ★ ★ ★ ★ /5)

Summary: Something is wrong in Snakebite, Oregon.

Teens are disappearing. Some are turning up dead. Logan has never been there until now, but she knows from the second she arrives that something is wrong. Even worse, blame for the missing teens seems to be falling on her dads: two of TV's most popular ghost hunters. Ashley’s boyfriend, Tristan, was the first to disappear – and now she’s seeing his ghost all over town. When Ashley and Logan team up to figure out who—or what—is haunting Snakebite, their investigation reveals truths about the town, their families, and themselves that neither of them are ready for. As the danger intensifies, they realize that their growing feelings for each other could be a light in the darkness.

The Dark has been waiting for far too long, and it won't stay hidden any longer.

Thank you to NetGalley for sending me an eARC in exchange for an honest review! Guys. Oh my god. I feel like the only thing I can say right now is wow. Wow wow wow wow. I am so in awe! I finished The Dead and the Dark with a pounding heart, blown away by how incredible it was. I was distraught to leave this story! This is one of those books that snags you from the very first line and never lets you go. The hook all by itself is mind-blowing. The prose is rich, pulling you in so deep you’ll be seeing a vivid movie behind your eyes. If there are any lines that perhaps take you out of the story, Gould is talented enough to reel you right back in.

Although I can't quite say I was scared, the atmosphere of this story was still incredible. It felt dusty and dark and damp and cold and hot all at once (in the best possible way!) and I had a wad of excitement and anticipation lodged in my chest every second while reading. It felt like stargazing in the middle of a field by yourself and slowly realizing you're perhaps not quite alone as you originally thought. The cast of characters were all deeply relatable in their own ways, and I adored all of them from the second they were introduced. I love a somewhat pessimistic protagonist, which is what we get with Logan without her being overbearing or exhausting. Ashley’s uncertainty and fear and confliction hit me right where it hurts. I wanted to wrap both of these girls up in a blanket and give them the tightest hugs they’ve ever had – I want to be best friends with them. And, of course, Alejo and Brandon… well, what’s not to love about a pair of secretive ghost-hunting husbands? Speaking of! The main romance in this story is seen between Logan – an openly gay teen, adopted daughter to the two aforementioned ghost-hunting dads – and Ashely, a girl from a small, close-minded town whose boyfriend, Tristan, has gone missing. Ashley is still grieving from Tristan’s disappearance, so the romance could never have been the main focus of the story, but don’t get me wrong: it’s here, it’s queer, it’ll make your heart melt. It’s something of a slow burn, and it’s so worth it. Also, given that Ashley was raised in a town where the homophobia runs rampant, I felt it was handled extraordinarily well. The romance, while still being soft and wonderful, was also refreshingly raw and real. I miss them dearly already. Remember when I casually mentioned the missing boyfriend? I think I could talk about the mystery here for paragraphs upon paragraphs, but I will once again bring it short with a holy crap. Once again: mind blown. The mystery was beautifully dark and twisted and so insanely clever. I was jotting down notes trying to work out what was going on (I did not succeed, but it was fun rather than frustrating). Everything ties up so neatly – even the things I didn’t quite… expect. Beautiful. Chef's kiss. MWAH. All in all, The Dead and the Dark deserves every five-star review sent its way! It’s emotional and loving and dark and sapphic and UGH! All the love! Add it to your TBRs. Or else. :)

[midnightechoes]

Daily Writing 2021: January 31st - Gridiron Physics part 5

Read it on AO3. Parts 1 & 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Submit a prompt for me to write! (I mostly do sapphic ships, especially Catradora, Supercorp, Harlivy, Pertrapta, and Dansen)

It was mid-afternoon, and school had just let out for the day. There was an hour between the end of the school day and the start of practice. Kara was spending that time in her office, going over paperwork for her players. The game was massively important to Kara, and she instilled that in her players, which is why had made the state tournament two years in a row for the first time in school history, with all signs pointing to a third straight appearance. It wasn’t just the game that was important to her, though. She prided herself on her team’s grade point average, not because they were smarter than students of the past, nor was it that her players cared about it more than players of the past, it was because Kara cared so damn much about it, and put the time in. Setting up tutoring sessions, hosting group study sessions. Their education was part of the game, the part she cared most about them winning.

Kara was scanning through one of her players’, Kenny Rogers, report, smiling at his string of As in Physics, when she heard a knocking at her door. The coach quickly popped her head up, shaken from the focus of what she was doing. Her first thought was that it could be one of her players, or, with any hope, it could be Lena, although she knew Lena was supposed to be on her way to yoga class. Curious, Kara beckoned her guest to enter.

It wasn’t a player that opened her door, nor was it Lena. Instead, it was a young redheaded woman, taller than average and a build that could be best described as ‘lanky’ with a tied-up ponytail that had lost a couple of strands of hair that now dangled around the edges of her face, framing it. Despite her backpack looking absolutely stuffed, she was still carrying a couple of books in her arms. Kara vaguely recognized her as one of Lena’s students. She was pretty sure she’s the star one that Lena had mentioned a few times.

“Hi,” Kara exclaimed, rising from her seat and extending a hand. “Lisa, was it?”

The young redhead closed the door behind her, shifted the books in her arms to one side, and shook Kara’s hand. “Lisa Bower,” she responded, with an uneasy expression on her face. “Um, Coach, do you have a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Kara responded immediately, gesturing towards one of the chairs across from her desk. Lisa looked back and fell into the chair, backpack still on. “What can I do for you?” Kara asked, sitting upright in her chair, her hands clasped together as they rested on her desk.

Lisa remained quiet for a moment. It seemed as if she was avoiding Kara’s gaze, and instead focused on fidgeting with the books that were sitting in her lap.

Patience wasn’t one of Kara’s natural virtues, although she had learned a lot of it in the years of working as a high school football coach, especially as a woman in a field that was still 99.9% male-dominated. She gave Lisa as long as the girl needed to muster up whatever she came here for and funneled that natural impatience into fidgeting with her hands.

“I, um,” Lisa finally began, her voice quiet, sounding as if it hadn’t found its footing for the conversation yet. “I was wondering… That is, I was hoping… that maybe you could teach me your style,” Lisa mumbled.

It took a moment for Kara to respond. She was sure she had misheard. After turning it over in her head a few times, Kara realized that she did in fact hear Lisa correctly, which made the bridge of her nose scrunch up.

“Um, I’m afraid I don’t exactly follow,” Kara earnestly admitted.

The response made Lisa blush slightly. She dared make eye contact with the coach for a brief second and gestured in her direction. “You know. Like, your fashion style. Like, your--your presentation. I was hoping you could teach me how to look like you.”

One of Kara’s eyebrows raised. She looked down, glancing at herself. Today’s selection had been a dark navy polo shirt with the school’s logo embroidered over her chest on the left side that was tucked into a skinny-cut pair of beige khakis.

Everything about how Lisa was treating the situation signaled to Kara that this was very, very important. Dire, even. But as Kara looked down at herself, she couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Like this?” Kara asked, a bemused smile on her face. “A simple trip to Target should do,” she chuckled. Kara then drew in a breath, trying to regain the serious composure to match the vibe that Lisa was still giving off. Then, she leaned back in her chair, a question that she didn’t want to ask at the tip of her tongue, demanding attention no matter how uncomfortable it was.

“Is this a prank?” Kara asked point-blank, her voice still cheery, despite the accusation.

“What?” Lisa stammered, her face snapping up to make continued eye contact with Kara for the first time. There was a look of shock and horror on the redhead’s face. “No, Coach Danvers!”

“Then what’s going on?” Kara asked, settling back into a comfortable position, leaning slightly into the desk, attention firmly on Lisa. “Talk to me, kid, what’s on your mind? Because I have a hard time believing this is about fashion.

“I mean,” Kara gestured at herself with one hand, “I don’t exactly have Versace beating down my door or anything.”

Lisa went still again, her gaze dropping down to her hands as they absently tried to twist the spine of one of the books in her lap.

“It’s just… she—I mean, a lot of people, notice you whenever you’re around. And I… I want to learn how to do that,” Lisa practically whispered, a slight quiver in her voice.

The admission made Kara think back. She had run into Lisa a few times, including just last week when she and Lena almost literally ran into Lisa and that friend of hers at the library.

After a moment, a knowing smile formed on Kara’s face. She leaned forward, shooting Lisa as soft an expression as she could.

“You know,” Kara began, her voice gentle. “I don’t think that just copying me is the key to getting anyone to notice you. Especially particular anyones.”

At that, Lisa’s entire face turned beet red. “W—what? I wasn’t talking… about…”

“Hey, it’s okay, kid!” Kara assured her. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We can talk about it, if you want. We don’t have to though.”

Everything was still for a moment. Then, suddenly, Lisa jumped to her feet. She wobbled for a second, partially from the giant backpack on her back, and partially as a manifestation of how she was currently feeling.

“Actually,” Lisa croaked, “you were right, this is a prank,” she hurriedly added. Lisa gave Kara an awkward, forced smile. “Good on you for not falling for it.

“I have to go,” Lisa exclaimed. She didn’t give Kara any time to react. The young redhead spun on her heel and rushed out of Kara’s office.

“Hey kid, wait” Kara yelled after her. Kara followed as quickly as she could. She darted out of her office and into the hallway that was completely empty.

“Lisa!” she called, getting no response.

Kara jogged to the nearest intersection, but Lisa was nowhere to be found. Standing there, Kara cursed at herself, wishing she had handled that better. To lighten her own mood, she let herself focus on a lighter idea, one inspired by how quickly Lisa was able to flee the scene, even while carrying that massive backpack.

“I wonder how she’d do at running jet sweeps,” the coach mused to herself.

Part 6.

[the-sweetest-dragon]

A Summer Like Never Before

- A Summer Job AU - No Pennywise - Georgie is still alive - Mostly tomfoolery - 

Fandom: It

Characters: Stan, Richie, Bev, Bill, Mike, Eddie, Ben

Word Count: 1180

Ships: Eventual Benverly, Reddie, Stan x Patty

Warnings: Out of character behavior

AN: did I move Stan’s chapter up because I wanted to read it?  Perhaps... perhaps.

Tags: @nerdsarebetter @just-another-shipper-01 @audder17 @sapphic-bottlexap

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

___________________________________________________

Chapter Five

Stanley Uris is a very patient man, or at least he thinks he is.  He liked things quiet and calm, and anywhere Richie was not is somewhere he wanted to be.  Which is how he ended up working in the flower shop a block away from everyone else.  He enjoyed the silence and the old people that came in during his shift.  When it was slow he would read the novel he picked up from the library or look for birds outside.  

He rarely had customers, so Stan spends most of his time rearranging the flowers.  Does his boss hate when he does that?  Oh definitely, but that has yet to stop him.  

Working so far down the street keeps him out of the drama the others seem to bring with them.  He gets regular text updates from their group chat but the Loser’s rarely come in to see him at work.  Stan doesn’t really mind though; he was kept in loop enough for his liking.  

Today, the group chat was blowing up.  Bill had broken two toes, Mike was a bit pissed, Ben and Bev had a date tomorrow, Richie hurt Ben (that was normal, Richie was always accidentally hurting someone).  He was being kept amused by his friends' conundrums when she came in.  

“Hi, how can I help you today?” Stan asks, without looking up.

“I was wondering if you sold calla lillies here?  We just moved in and Dad wanted to get Mom something pretty to liven up the house.”  Stan looks up at the young sounding voice.  What greeted him was a girl, maybe sixteen, with butter blonde hair that hung in soft curls around her shoulders.  Her sundress strap was slipping down her shoulders and her knees were bandaged.  She was gorgeous.  Stan had to blink several times to clear his head enough to answer.

“Yeah we have calla lilies, what color were you thinking and how many?”

“Oh, a dozen should be enough.  White would be preferable if you have enough.”  She smiled and Stan melted a little.  Is this how Richie felt when he was around Eddie?  If so, Stan could understand why it was so hard to get the boy’s attention when Eddie was around.  Stan felt like he was in a trance.  

He nods and heads towards the back to see if they do have enough white calla lilies to fulfill the order.  Stan is able to find the exact amount and in the color she wants.  He wraps them up carefully and attaches a care label to the wrapping before heading back to the register.

“We had just enough.”  Stan smiles and rings her up.  “That’ll be ten dollars even.”  The girl hands him a ten dollar bill with a smile and takes the flowers from his hands. 

“Thanks again.  Maybe I’ll see you around?”  Stan nods, watching as her smile brightens.  

“Definitely!  I’m here for all your flower needs.”  She giggles and walks back out the door.

Stan realizes much later that he never caught her name and he mentally beats himself up about it for the next several hours.  And for the fact that he said ‘I’m here for all your flower needs’.  What kind of person says that?  And with a straight face?  

Stan groans softly and tries to refocus on his book but finds it impossible to keep his mind off the pretty blonde.  Instead, he attempts to rearrange the ribbons for bouquets by width rather than color (though he organizes them by color as well).  As he works, Stan starts to daydream.  He imagines holding her hand as they walk to the pool, laughing with her in the diner, days spent bird watching and reading in the bright sun.  Stan feels a soft sort of warmth settle around his shoulders and a dopey smile comes across his face.

Stan wasn’t really one for crushes.  Derry was a small town and not many girls were going to want to date the kid who would rather read than do sports.  He had come to accept that fact.  Stan was no Bill or Mike, both of whom had had puberty hit them like a truck once high school came around.  Stan isn’t bad looking; his mother always said he has an interesting face.  It’s not something that really gives a guy confidence but Stan never thought he looked bad.  

Stan pauses to look at himself in the reflection of the glass, wondering what she must have thought of him.  He dresses nicely, something that hadn’t changed in years.  Stan suddenly gets an urge to change something, anything, to make himself appear cooler and less like his father.  He occasionally feels this way, especially when he sees pictures of them together; no one said he dressed like an old man outright, but he knew people thought it. 

“You know… it may be time for a change.”  Stan picks up his phone and types out a message.  A few moments later it dings.  

Meet us at the mall in 20.

The closest mall was two towns over and very few people from Derry made the trip unless it was Christmas or Easter to pick up presents.  Stan can’t remember the last time he had taken the time to drive all the way here.  Maybe last winter to pick up a gift for Eddie?  Stan wasn’t sure.  

Stan waits silently outside the main entrance, tapping his foot against the pavement when he spots them.  Bev and Richie were the only people he trusted to not make him look more like his father.  Both had quite… eccentric looks about them; Richie was prone to wearing loud Hawaiian shirts that he thrifted paired with ripped jeans and Vans while Bev had changed her style several times over the years.  Right now she is rocking a more seventies look, with a bright white embroidered peasant blouse and high waisted shorts.  Why did Stan know all of this?  He listened to his friends and noticed things.  

“Stan the Man!  Never thought I’d see the day when you’d ask ole Trashmouth with fashion help!”  Richie grins, his glasses falling off his nose.  Stan rolls his eyes, but smiles.  Despite enjoying his alone time, Stan had missed the Trashmouth.  

“Shut up Richie.  This place closes in two hours,” Bev states.  She turns to Stan, her phone in hand.  “What were you thinking?  New clothes, a haircut?  There’s not a whole lot of time but I think we can swing a good start to a makeover.”  She smiles and Stan wonders how Bill could have ever broken up with her.

“I definitely need a haircut and a closet up date.  I realized today that I really need to stop dressing like my dad.”  Richie laughs softly.  “Oh shut up.  Not everyone can dress like a pre

pubescent got lost on vacation.”  Richie fakes a gasp, putting his hand to his chest in mock offense.  

“Alright, alright ladies.”  Bev smiles and walks around Stan a few times.  “I know just the place to get started.  Let’s get to it!”

[avengerscompound]

When She’s Away

When She’s Away:  A Black Widow Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  2364

Warnings:  Smut (F|F, oral, vibrator and strap on use)

Synopsis:  Natasha is away a lot.  The two of you hate the time apart.  That is until Nat finds a way to keep you entertained when she’s not there.

When She’s Away

Being the partner of an avenger could be trying.  It meant getting left at home a lot worrying they wouldn’t come back.  It meant pretending that you hadn’t been worrying when they got home.  It meant them pretending they were in no real danger all along, to keep your mind at ease.  It meant pretending they didn’t know that you knew they were lying.

It meant that you bonded with everyone else that had to stay behind too.  It helped to have people to talk to.  People who got it.  No one got it as well as Pepper Potts.  She had become like the group mom of anyone who dated an Avenger.  Whether the relationship lasted a few weeks or the years you had been with Natasha.  The thing that helped her cope, was making sure everyone else was.  Which was a lot to take on considering she was also running Stark Industries.  Where she got the energy from you’ll never know.

So when she asked you to be a bridesmaid at her and Tony’s wedding, of course, you said yes.  She deserved to have people help her out when she’d done so much to help others.  You were looking forward to being in the line up beside her.  Getting to dress up.  At least for something that didn’t end in your girlfriend busting the place up.

You had been meeting with a designer, florists, and bakers with her along with her wedding planner.  Not that you were a lot of help, but her closest friends and family lived on the other side of the country and while maybe her friendship with Natasha had been going for longer than the one with you, you weren’t always dragged away on missions.  You didn’t mind, even though half the time you felt like decoration.  Sometimes just having someone there to ask their opinion when you weren’t sure, who had your back, helped.  So you didn’t mind being that person.

It kept you busy while Natasha was out of town in any case.  Looking at flowers and tasting cakes and nodding and agreeing about dress designs you had no idea about distracted you from the fact that Natasha had been completely radio silent for two weeks now.

It turned out, she had been busy too.  She appeared completely unannounced with a present for you.

“It’s got both clitoral and G-spot stimulation.  You can wear it while I do other things to you the way we do with the bullets only twice the stimulation.  I can set each side to vibrate at different intensities,”  She explained as you pulled the vibrator out of its sleek box.  It was small, purple and ‘U’ shaped with two ridged bulbous ends.  It came with a large white charging station that it fit snugly into.  “It’s actually what they call a couples vibrator.  When they say couple they aren’t speaking about our more sapphic kind obviously, but if you were interested I could fuck you with a strap on while that toy was inside you.”

You turned it over in your hand and ran your fingers over the silicone.  It looked like a good toy but not any better or worse than any of the almost countless others the two of you owned.

“You know what the best part is?”  She asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“No, what?”

She smirked and came closer running a finger from your stomach down to your cunt.  “It’s small enough and snug enough to wear around during the day and it comes with an app that works from the other side of the world.”

Your eyes lit up and you gave her a little shove.  “You dirty girl.”

She chuckled and pulled you back close against her.  “Oh, I plan to be.  Can you imagine?  I’m out of town.  You have it here.  We can facetime and I can watch as I get you off from the other side of the planet.  Or, even better,”  She gripped your ass and ghosted her lips over your neck.  “You’re at work and I switch it on just when I get the urge and you have to pretend you’re not about to come in your panties.”

You squirmed where you stood just thinking about all the things she could do to you.  “Fuck.  I’m wet just thinking about it.”

“Really?”  She asked and pushed her hand down into your shorts.  Her fingers slid up your folds, collecting up your wet.

“Tasha!”  You yelped pushing her.

She grabbed her wrist and pinned it behind your back as she continued to move her fingers up and down your pussy.  “We should give it a try.”

“It has to charge first.”  You whined.

“So go and charge it then,”  She teased pulling her hand out of your pants and slapping your ass.  “I’ll make us something to eat.”

You giggled and risked giving her ass a playful smack before running down to the bedroom with the toy.  You cleaned it off and set it up to charge near the bed.  You decided to set up a few other things too, to save Natasha the trouble.  You got out the harness and a red pyrex dildo and a water-based lube and lined them up next to it.

When you returned to the kitchen, she had made a salad and heated up a pirog that you had in the freezer.  She served them at the kitchen table with two iced teas you were already sure she’d spiked with vodka.

"How was the trip? Just spend it sex toy shopping?" You asked sitting down in her lap.  Even with her slight frame, you weren’t worried about her taking your weight easily.  She was much, much stronger than the average person.

She wrapped her arm around your waist and took a drink from her iced tea.  “It was fine.  I can’t really tell you much, but it was me and Clint and you know what he’s like.”

“He lets you boss him around.”  You said.

“Mm… that he does.”

“Who would have thought you like being in control.  What a revelation.”  You teased.

She pinched your thigh and laughed to herself.  “Such a smart ass, mishka.”  She teased.  You snuggled down against her.  Happy she was back and you got to be in her arms again.  “What about you, my darling?  How have you been?”

“Good, work’s been fine.  Same as always.  Being Pepper’s bridesmaid is… interesting.  I have no idea what I’m doing half the time.  Tony has a scary amount of money.  Like too much.”  You said.

“You’re telling me.”  She joked.

“At least I don’t think I’ll be wearing pink or tonnes of frills.  I think she wants us to wear white too.  Which… is weird right?”  You asked.

She shrugged.  “She has style.  Trust it.”

You finished your food and got up and stacked the dishwasher and returned to her lap.  You nuzzled into your neck and sighed contentedly.  “You’re being very affectionate,”  She said, running her fingers down the side of your neck.

“That’s because I love you,”  you replied leaning back and kissing her.  She slipped her hand back into your pants and lazily started to finger you as you kissed.  When she finally pulled back she pushed you to standing, pulled your pants and underwear off in one go and then turned you and sat you on the kitchen table.  You spread your legs wide for her as she guided you so you were lying back over it.

She nuzzled at your pussy for a moment, placing small kisses along the inside of your thighs.  You hummed and relaxed, letting her take her time, enjoying that she actually was for a change.  When her tongue finally swiped up your folds it startled you a little and you moaned arching your back and pushing your hips up, chasing after her mouth.

She grabbed your hips and held them down as she started to lap wide over your pussy.  She sucked at your folds and placed large open mouth kisses over them.  Your hand went to her hair and you pulled on it.  It seemed to focus her.  She made a soft growl sound and sucked your clit into her mouth.  Her tongue flicked back and forth over it sending a shiver from your cunt right up your spine.   You moaned and rolled your hips up against her face.

Pleased little sounds were coming from her as she used her mouth on you.  Soft hums and moans.  She was enjoying eating you out as much as you enjoyed her doing it.  Her pleasure seemed to add to you.  You relaxed more, not worrying about anything except how good it was to have her mouth on you.

She stood suddenly and picked you up, wrapping your legs around her tiny waist.  You thought for a moment how funny you must look, but you didn’t care.  You loved how easily Natasha could carry you.  You tangled your fingers in her hair and kissed her as she carried you down to the bedroom.

When she got there she dropped you down on the mattress and pulled her shirt off.  You scrambled to remove the rest of your clothes as she undressed in no particular hurry to take off the rest of hers.  She picked the vibrator up from the charging dock and started to apply lube to it as she turned it over in her hand.  You crawled up after her and pulled her close, placing a large kiss on her pussy and swirling your tongue around.  She moaned as the salty/sweet flavor of her fluids filled your mouth.

She let you kiss and suck at her pussy for a moment, moaning in pleasure as you used your mouth on her.  After a little while, she cupped your jaw and tilted your head up and kissed you deeply as she pushed you back on the bed.  You spread your legs and she eased the vibrator into your cunt, getting it into position so that it sat snuggly against your clit and pushed against your g-spot.

She stood back and looked down at you and picked up the remote.  “How does that feel?”

“Good.  Feels good.”  You said.

She turned the remote on and a slow mellow buzz started up against your clit.  You moaned and pushed your ass up off the bed like you were trying to chase the feeling it was giving you.  She started fingering herself as she changed the intensity, it went from slow and mellow to fast and intense and anything in between.

Natasha watched your reactions closely as she slowly rolled her finger over her clit, her devious little half smile playing over her lips.  You moaned and bucked and writhed in front of her.  When you reacted the way she seemed to like best, she put the control down and put on her harness.  It had a toy on the inside too, and she lubed it up and slid it inside of herself and added a bullet vibe against her clit.  She then lubed up the dildo she planned to use on you.

She pounced on you and you wrapped your legs around her and she slid the toy in.  It stretched you out and filled you more, but was in no way uncomfortable.  The addition of the dildo pushed the vibrator harder against your g-spot.  You groaned loudly as it sent a current of pleasure through you.  She started to slowly roll her hips against you.   Each roll added pressure to the part of the vibrator resting against your clit and increased the intensity of the buzz against it.  The buzz traveled out from your cunt through the rest of you.  As the dildo moved inside of you the vibrator would press hard against your g-spot.  Press and release press and release.

You started to pant.  Natasha cradled your head with her arm and looked right into your eyes.  Her mouth hovered over yours, her breath coming in hot and shallow.

“How’s it feel?”  She asked, her green eyes blown out with lust.

You leaned up and bunched your hand in her hair.  She captured your lips with her and you kissed her desperately, pulling her hair and dancing your tongues together.

“Fuck.  Fuck, Tasha!  Fuck!”  You cursed as she broke the kiss.

“Me too, mishka,”  She growled.

An orgasm took hold of you.  It crashed down making you cry out.  She kissed you through it as you clung to her, your fingers digging into her back.

She started to thrust harder, panting as her own orgasm neared.  Each thrust made the vibrate dig against your g-spot.  Your whole body seized up and you came again, gushing around the toys.

“Fuck,”  She groaned and came, her head falling back in pleasure and her body stilling.

You both lay there panting for a moment as the vibrator still buzzed against your swollen and sensitive clit.  “Okay, okay, need it to stop.”  You said pushing her off you.

You both removed the toys you were wearing and turned them off, tossing them haphazardly onto the bed as you curled up in each other's arms and let yourselves enjoy the endorphin highs you were riding.

“That one's a keeper,” you hummed.

She smiled and kissed your neck.  “Yes, I think it will do quite nicely.”

You walked your fingers up her side and trailed it under her breasts.  “Having this makes the idea of you going away again a little more exciting than I usually find it.”

She hummed and your whole body seemed to just relax.  “That’s what I had hoped.  I do very much like the idea of getting you off from a whole other country.”

You leaned in and brushed your lips over hers before nuzzling into her neck.  “Can we get you one too?”  You asked.

She chuckled softly.  “I don’t think a mid-mission orgasm would be wise.”

“No, but when we skype.  And maybe, when you’re having meetings with Steve.”  You said.

She laughed a little louder and kissed your cheek.  “The thought of him hearing is very good, but we shall see.  I’ll think about it.”

// NEXT

[colorofmymindposts]

Roaming the Greenwood

Fandom: Maurice — E.M. Forster, Maurice (1914), Maurice (1987) Pairing: Kitty Hall/Violet Tonks, Maurice Hall/Alec Scudder Rating: Gen Status: Complete Word Count: 949 Summary: Kitty discovers two men so very similar to herself and her friend, but their differences cannot be reconciled. Tags: Slight Canon Divergence, Social Commentary, Intersectionality Issues, Gays in Love But They Don’t Know How to Support Their Community, Set in 1934, My Version of an Epilogue  Story: 

The sanguine greenwood, unkempt, looming, and ancient in its prowess reminded Kitty very little of the pristine and bordered Domestic Institute she once attended as a girl. She said as much to her Violet, with whom she walked arm in arm.

“That’s why I suggested we take our walk here. There’s a privacy to this place unlike any other in England,” her friend said intelligently.

Always a fanatic for learning, Kitty never minded the way in which she was continually reeducated by Violet. Goodness knows their heads were filled with nothing but rubbish at that girls’ school where they met so long ago.

“I should think that would be ideal for our purposes, don’t you think?”

Needing no further prompting, Kitty took Violet’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly, her pert, soft lips melting into Kitty’s own. Their kisses were languid and unhurried, neither passion or fear of discovery propelling them forward. Their bodies were comfortable and attuned to each other, and Kitty began to stroke Violet’s cheek gently with her fingers while her lover’s arms circled round Kitty’s waist. Their love was practically palpable in the air, chorused by birdsong.

Of course, it would only be when Kitty was contemplating leaving daring violet marks upon Violet’s neck that a thwack! noise unidentifiable in the deep woods startled them and had them apart immediately, smoothing down their skirts consciously.

“Couldn’t have been an animal, I suppose,” Kitty surmised, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it to calm her nerves. All her friend had to do was extend her hand, and Kitty placed one between her proffered fingers, cupping the lighter as it set the cigarette alight before Violet brought it to her deliciously wet, swollen lips.

“It’s likely a hunter,” Violet said after taking a long drag. “Although they shouldn’t be this close to town. We really ought to tell them off before they kill one of us by accident.”

“Really Violet, you say the most morbid things,” she admonished lightly even though she liked it.

Her friend rebutted her firmly still. “I say the most morbid things about men, you should note. I radiate perfect pleasantness when I speak of any other subject, especially you, my dear.”

Kitty scoffed, knowing this was meant to mollify her. A teasing remark came to mind, and she could not help but pursue it. “The hunter could be a woman. You don’t know.”

“As if! A gentle lady or a woman of lower rank in our society would never. I doubt even if we Socialists were to have our way women and men would all occupy the same positions. Besides, it goes against our teachings at the Domestic Institute. I think Miss Forster would have a conniption if women were to take the traditional places of men.”

“We did in the Great War,” Kitty contested. “I think anyway that Miss Forster would have a conniption if she saw what we’ve shared in the woods. And in dormitories, and our bedroom…”

Kitty was unable to finish this thought as they both burst into giggles unceremoniously at the thought of the red-nosed, severe, Christian-suffering school marm discovering they were disciples of Sappho and Radclyffe Hall.

Twigs snapping in the near distance sobered their newfound mirth, however, and again they were on guard. The sounds were closer than before, and the women sought out each others’ hands for reassurance, choosing to hide behind some towering shrubs. Once the figures could be seen through a small parting in the bushes, Kitty realized they hardly had any need to be worried. Two woodcutters lumbered through the greenwood, and somehow it seemed as though the men belonged there and always had, like the trees that shrouded the four of them, herself, Violet, and the woodcutters, altogether from the prying eyes of society. There was something so familiar in the gait of the one man, perhaps the color of his hair as well, but Kitty simply could not place it in that peculiar moment. Transfixed as she was, she was equally disgusted. It was very rare that she had to encounter anyone outside of clean-cut suburbs, and the result produced in this instance had her distressed at how unabashedly dirt and filth clung to their clothes, how they were so uncaring of how they were perceived. It seemed simultaneously a great mistake and privilege they held unlike a woman of her upbringing.

The one man with curiously curly hair turned to his companion in confusion. “I could’ve sworn I’s smelt smoke in bout these parts.”

“Well, I see no fire or any indication of one. I think we’re in no danger today, Alec,” the other replied, in a voice much more polished and well-bred, finishing with an endearing smile.

“If there’s was someone or other, I’d chase ‘em out. This place belongs to you and me alone, sir,” the last word placed with some kind of emphasis, an inside joke or tell Kitty could not understand. The fair-haired man threw back his head and laughed mirthfully. He wrapped an arm around his shorter fellow’s shoulders and staggered on out of the clearing deeper into the green.

It was clear the nature of their relationship, a friendship tinged with illicit intimacy, a dynamic she knew all too well. But there was something about the two, of their status (or lack thereof) and immediate call to seek out and identify, as though the greenwood was theirs alone. It did not settle well in her stomach at all. Silently, she turned to Violet, pressing a finger to her own lips to indicate they should leave this place quietly. It was evidently never meant for them in more ways than one. 

Author Notes: This idea obviously comes from Forster's concept for a potential epilogue with Kitty, Maurice, and Alec; while I am aware that there is an existing version of this epilogue, I wanted to explore some of the nuances of Maurice's and Kitty's characters, especially Kitty since we see/read so little of her in the film/novel.

This also serves as some steaming hot commentary on class privilege with lesbians who identify as sapphic versus those who are more comfortable with dyke and less intellectual terminology. I also try to address early gatekeeping in the mlm community, which you will hopefully see what I mean in a bit. I feel like Forster's oversimplification of the female characters in his novel (like saying Kitty would immediately disapprove of Maurice/Alec, which serves no other purpose than being a mouthpiece for society rather than being her own character) stems from his misogyny, and I wanted to address that through this fic. 

While this novel was Way ahead of its time and so important, it's exclusively focused on a gay male narrative and thoroughly assumes all women are attracted to men; plus my lesbian brain couldn't help but ship Kitty and Violet after Kitty *brought her friend home* in chapter 29 much like Maurice had many times with Clive, no? And Kitty never marries in the novel so this could totally happen. I am aware Violet is not a character in the film and that she was not mentioned in Forster's epilogue, but I added her anyways. Please let me know what you think of my version! 

[areacomplete]

books of poetry

Pairing: none! just bev nd ben havin’ a good time

Word Count: 1662

Warning: coming out, it’s all fluff and support really

Summary: Beverly Marsh, because she trusts him more than anyone else, comes out as sapphic to Ben Hanscom. Ben does the one thing he knows best: love and support her until the end of time.

a/n: this is based off of a conversation/ask thing i had with @bevmarshed ! i would link the post but i .. cannot, find it

[ao3 link]

Ben Hanscom would do anything for Beverly Marsh. He had promised himself -- somewhere between the time she introduced herself and the time he wrote his first poem to her -- that he would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant he could see a smile on her face. Maybe it was romantic, maybe it wasn’t; he didn’t put a label on it, he just loved her and he hoped she loved him too.

And she did. It wasn’t romantic love, but she did. She noticed the way his handwriting flowed on the poems he wrote for her, the way he would smile and the way his face got pink, and even the way he was trying everyday to make her happy, even if he was doing his best to hide it. She thought of Ben as a light in the dark: not something bright enough to blind her (like Richie, whom she also loved), but like a small flame, keeping her going even through the darkest nights.

Ben was always there. She would not be alive today, if it were not for him.

Though he, despite everything, was not the first person she would go to if she had a problem. If she needed an escape, she’d run to Richie, with his cigarettes and comedic banter. If she needed advice, it would almost always be Stan, Mike, for emotional support (and the therapy of petting animals, which always helped), etc.

Today, however, she had needed something different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but she was sure Ben had the answers. Or the solution. Either way, she was sure she needed Ben. She sat, now, in front of his locker. The school bell had rung and students were slowly filing out of the building -- Bev was not worried that he hadn’t shown up, however, because she knew he hid in the bathroom everyday until the crowds dispersed. She didn’t blame him for it. She knew Ben was brave, but she -- above anyone, perhaps -- knew how ruthless their peers could be.

“Ben!” She called, watching his figure appear down the hall. He had his hands full of library books and his hair was a little tousled, but he smiled all the same.

“Hey, Bev,” He sped up, slightly, stopping where she sat, “what’s up?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” As Beverly spoke, Ben carefully stacked the library books in his locker and locked it up again, hands now resting on the straps of his backpack. She pushed herself up, leaning against the lockers before continuing, “but I don’t really wanna say it here, you know?”

Ben nodded, “We can walk to the park together, if you want. I was going to head over there either way, so it’s no trouble at all.” Not that it would be, ever, he thought, silently laughing at himself.

“That works!” She smiled. Ben’s heart fluttered; only a little.

They kept up small talk as they walked through the halls and down the street; Ben making the occasional joke, smiling whenever Bev’s face lit up with laughter. Bev asked Ben about how his ‘poetry escapades’ were going, and he told her they were better than ever, now that she was his muse. She blushed at that quite a bit.

They walked until they reached a bench in the middle of the park, hidden by the shade of an oak tree. They settled there, Ben sitting on the bench, his backpack lying next to him, and Bev preferring to lie on the grass. Her red hair contrasted the green color so nicely -- Ben almost wished he had Mike’s camera with him, so he could save the way she seemed to glow forever.

“I think,” Bev started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think I like girls, Ben. Maybe even,” her voice got quiet, “I don’t know, love? You’re a lot better with words than I am.”

“Do you… uh, do you mean like, kissing them?”

“Yeah, Ben,” she laughed, mentally comparing her previous statement to what he just said, “Kissing them.”

She hadn’t turned to face him, still staring up at the clouds as she spoke. Ben noticed how the hue of her face had changed; how her freckles seemed accentuated by the vibrant pink blush she now wore. He wasn’t as shocked by this as he thought he would be -- though he hadn’t really thought about it before, either.

“Are you… okay, with that? Like, are you happy?”

Bev hummed. She hadn’t really thought about that. There was no media for her to look into -- no pictures of girls kissing girls or spending their lives together, so the first time she thought about how cute her classmate Jessie looked in her dress, she didn’t really think anything of it. It wasn’t bad, nor was it good, it was just… something.

“I think so, yeah. It’s lonely, though,” she paused, adjusting her hands behind her head, “I don’t know if you’ll get why.”

“Try me, Beverly.” He laughed. She did, too.

“Alright, alright. It’s like… you always see couples on tv, but they’re always a girl and a guy. There’s nothing wrong with that, I guess, because that’s how most people feel, but it’d be nice to see a girl and a girl sometimes. Or even a guy and a guy! I,” she sighed, “I don’t know, I probably sound ridiculous.”

“No, Bev, you don’t. I kind of understand where you’re coming from, I think.”

“Maybe one day,” She adjusted her body so she was facing him, smiling wide, “you can write me a poem about it. Two girls, I mean.”

An idea sparked in Ben’s mind. There was a way he could fix this -- a way he could genuinely, actually fix this. He stood up suddenly, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over one of his shoulders.

“Bev, I have an idea, actually, but you need to come with me.”

She furrowed her brows, but did as he said, curiosity getting the better of her.

He led her away from the park and down the streets, and Bev only took a few moments to notice he was leading her to the library. The entire time he had this look on his face -- one that she could only describe as purpose. Pure, genuine purpose. Like he knew exactly what he had to do, exactly how to do it, and if he didn’t do it right away, his head might explode -- or something equally as ridiculous.

He pulled her through the doors; somewhere during the walk he had grasped her wrist, most likely because she was falling behind; and directed her towards the poetry section. She watched carefully as he scanned over the books, shaking his head and whispering things like ‘no, no, not that’ and ‘it has to still be here, right?’.

“Why are we -- what are you looking for?” Bev’s last word was interrupted by a shout of joy, Ben reaching up to one of the higher shelves and pulling out a book. It was large, and it looked quite old and dusty, but he held it like it was his prized possession. He handed it to her gently and she traced her fingers over the letters as she read: Poems of Sappho.

“What’s this?” She asked, looking up from the book.

Ben gestured with his hands wildly as he spoke, “It’s a book of poems! I guess you could get that from the title, really,” he let out a breathy laugh, “She’s -- uh, hm. She likes girls, or liked, I guess, just like you, and she wrote about it a lot. Mike looked into it for me when I picked it up a few months ago, and she literally lived on an isle called Lesbos, if you believe it. My favorite is ‘Awed By Her Splendor’, but there’s a ton I think you’ll like!”

“Ben, I--” She stuttered her words, interrupting Ben’s rambling. Half out of adoration, half out of joy, tears started welling up in her eyes, and she used her free hand to wipe them messily across her face. Ben was looking at her with such a hopeful, kind expression that she almost lost her composure and started sobbing right there.

“Oh, also,” his voice was softer now, “You can borrow one of my notebooks, if you want. So you can save your favorites even after you have to, y’know, return the old thing.”

She nodded, placing the book back on the shelf so the cover was facing out. Ben hesitated for a moment, thinking she was rejecting the ‘gift’ (it felt like too much to call it that, seeing as he’d just picked a book out of the library for her), but she quickly pulled him into a tight hug, hair brushing against his cheek. He could feel the way her face was wet with tears, almost causing a chain reaction. What would a stranger think, he chuckled breathlessly, if they saw us both sobbing in the aisle of a library?

“Thank you, Ben.” She pulled away, hands still on his shoulders. “I’m not sure why I -- why I reacted so... strongly, but thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“I just… y’know,” his face faded into a beet-red color, “I just didn’t want you to feel alone.”

They stayed there like that for a little while, Bev’s hands gripping Ben’s shoulders and both of them more giddy than ever. Beverly noticed how the flame she had had always described Ben to be was burning brighter than ever before; still soft but noticeable, in all the most perfect ways. It felt as if it would be there forever.

There was comfort in that thought. The thought that, in their far future, when Bev was married to the woman of her dreams and they had settled down for good, Ben would still be there, lighting her way.

I just didn’t want you to feel alone.

[jadedbirch]

Look, bubbles! - silverflint

For Mistress Elle, I hereby fill this prompt!  :*  This takes place in the fanfiction gap between seasons 2 and 3.

“Captain, a word?”

Flint turned to find a woman standing behind him, wearing far too elegant a dress for such a hellhole, or so the tavern had begun to appear to him post the events of Charles Town.

“You’re Eleanor’s… uh… replacement,” he said, recognizing the Madame and the new proprietor of Eleanor’s business.  Rackham and Bonny’s wily little partner.  Who helped fuck him.

“Max,” she smiled a benevolent smile at him.“I remember you,” he said, unable to hold back a scowl.

“It’s about your quartermaster,” Max said, familiarly winding her arm into his and drawing him away from the bar.

“What’s he done?” Flint growled.  He wouldn’t underestimate Silver’s ability to still somehow fuck shit up for him, even short one leg.  The pirate alliance in Nassau was far too new and too fragile to toss away.  He batted down the sudden pang of worry that crept into his belly as he allowed Max to lead him across the walkway and… towards the brothel.  “Jesus, don’t tell me he’s killed one of your workers.”

“It is nothing like that,” Max spoke quietly.  “It is simply a matter that I thought best dealt with by you directly, lest word got out.”

Well, that wasn’t terribly reassuring.  Flint sighed.  “Is he all right?” 

“He is unharmed,” Max said, and that, too, wasn’t terribly reassuring.

“Christ,” he muttered, following her down the corridor, past the sounds of overzealous fuckery that emanated through the thin walls.

She stopped before one of the rooms, gesturing for him to halt while she knocked on the door:  three short taps and one loud one.  The door opened, and through the crack Flint beheld Anne Bonny’s threatening scowl, which melted into a soft smile as she nodded and stepped aside to allow them free passage inside.

“After you, Captain,” Max nodded, gesturing for Flint to enter.  

In the bedroom, he beheld a curious sight.  By the large bed stood a brass washing basin, surrounded by a large puddle where a peg leg lay sprawled in a state of half-drowned melancholy.  A mop of wild curls spilled over the lip of the tub.  The mop of curls appeared to be - Lord aid him - singing some kind of a sea shanty that Flint would scarcely want to contemplate where Silver may have picked up.

Flint looked over at Max, who stood quietly by Bonny’s side, both their faces unreadable and entirely unhelpful.  He took a few more steps closer, circling to the foot of the tub, where Silver lay in all his disrobed glory, hands slapping like the fins of a struggling fish against the surface of the bath water.

“Silver,” Flint said, not certain what exactly he was expected to do with the “situation” unfolding before him.

A pair of limpid blue eyes slowly rose to fix upon his nose.  “Look, bubbles!” Silver offered, with an idiotic grin spreading over his face.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Flint finally asked.

“He showed up in my room,” Max began to explain a bit helplessly, “drunk out of his mind and raving.  We haven’t been able to get him to leave since.”

“And whose idea was it to give him a bath?” Flint asked, eyes still taking in the sight before him.  This sight, although not particularly uplifting, was nevertheless not entirely unpleasant.

“His own,” Bonny ground through her teeth.

“I did not think it was wise to allow your men to see him like this,” Max continued.  

��So, let him prune in there, what do I care?” Flint snapped.  “Surely you two can find another place to shack up for the night,” he smiled at Max and her little partner with all his teeth.

“Get ‘im out, or I’ll fetch Jack and Vane next,” Bonny snarled.  “He’s yer quartermaster.  That makes ’im yer bloody problem, don’t it?”

Flint’s hand twitched towards the hilt of his sword, mirrored immediately by the quick movement of Anne Bonny’s hands.  Their alliance, he reminded himself, was still far too fragile to throw away over one drunk, naked quartermaster, playing with bath bubbles in the middle of some Sapphic inferno.

“Fine,” Flint muttered, relaxing his hands.  “Just… give me some time to get him decent again, and I’ll get him out of your… hair.”

“I would appreciate it, Captain,” Max smiled again, taking Bonny by the hand.  “We’ll be downstairs if anything…”“Go,” he interrupted her. 

“Come, Anne.”  

Flint watched Bonny follow the Madame out the door, her scowl once again melting under that soft, expert touch.  With the women both gone, and the door closed tightly behind them, he let out another defeated sigh and sank down upon the unmade, ruffled bed, letting his head sink into the hold of his own hands.

“God damn it, Silver,” he muttered, addressing neither particularly the man in the tub nor whatever deity kept dangling this man before him, like some exotic and most certainly forbidden fruit.

“God damn it, Silver,” the pruning nuisance echoed him from the tub.

“What are you, a fucking parrot?” Flint snorted, raising his head and looking the man before him over from head to his one remaining set of toes, that dangled over the edge of the tub. 

“Caw-caw!” Silver replied.  “Wish that I were, Captain, wish that I were.  For were I a parrot, I could spread my wings and fly the fuck far, far away from here.  Do you think parrots need two legs to perch?  I suppose it might be an inconvenience.”  Silver once again clapped his hands against the surface of the water, sending soap suds either which way. 

“You’re making a mess,” Flint pointed out a bit despondently.

“Aye, that is my specialty,” Silver nodded and graced Flint with a wide eyed grin.  “Can we stay here?” he suddenly asked.  “I like it.  ‘S quiet.”

“Quiet,” Flint repeated, just as his ears picked up reinvigorated sounds of a squeaking bed and amorous grunts from beyond the wall.  “Jesus, how much did you have to drink, Silver?”

“Not nearly enough, if you ask me,” Silver replied with that same grin.  “I can still feel my legs.  Both of them.  Which, in itself, is disconcerting.”  One of his arms reached from the tub towards Flint.  “Can you check, Captain?  It hasn’t grown back, has it?”

“Only if you’re secretly part lizard,” Flint replied, his furrowed eyebrows softening.  He slinked down from the bed and sank to the wet floor by the side of the tub.  “Silver, I need you to help me get you out of there.”

“No,” Silver pouted.  “Not out.  In.  Stay here with me, Captain.”

“The water’s surely grown cold.  You might catch your death.”

“In the infernal heat of Nassau?” Silver asked with an air of a highly offended individual.  His arm moved again, trailing across Flint’s shoulder.  “Huh,” he muttered with a dazed look.

“Come on, Silver.” Flint gathered himself and leaned over the tub, allowing his arms to dip under the water and lock behind Silver’s back.  “Let’s go.  Put your arms around my neck.”  Why exactly was God testing him like this?  Oh yes, probably because God, too, as well as the King,  was incredibly offended by his existence. 

Blessedly, his quartermaster did as he was told, for once, lifting up his arms and circling them around Flint’s neck, like a very amiable python.  Silver reached up and rested his forehead against Flint’s own and closed his eyes, apparently in no rush to actually be lifted out of the tub. 

“Put your leg back in and push,” Flint suggested.

“Nah. This is nice, too.”  Silver’s hand brushed against the freshly shaven skin of Flint’s skull, shocking him.  He had not grown entirely used to the feel of it yet since he had updated his look, and having another man’s hand on the exposed, vulnerable skin left Flint unbalanced.  “Prickly,” Silver muttered.

Flint could at this point let the man go and step away from the tub.  He could very easily walk out of that room and leave Max and her lover to follow through on their threat of fetching his new partners (who have all fucked him repeatedly). These all seemed like very logical and achievable choices.  Instead, he closed his eyes and allowed Silver to continue touching the back of his head with those long fingers while his body lay exposed and wet in Flint’s unexpected embrace.

“Do you ever think about kissing me?” Silver asked, his arms tightening around Flint’s neck.  “Because I do.  I mean, you.  I mean, I think about kissing you.  All the time.”  Silver’s breath tickled the hollow of Flint’s neck.  “Which is kind of suicidal of me, really.  I usually have much better self-preservation skills than that.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Flint practically moaned.  He pulled upwards, attempting to drag Silver bodily out of the tub, with or without his assistance.

“James Flint,” Silver muttered, his head rolling back, his body limp and clinging at the same time.  “You’re so strong, Captain.  God, how are you this strong?”

“I’m mostly powered by rage and a festering sense of my own superiority,” Flint explained with a grunt as he fell backwards into Max’s bed, pulling Silver’s unhelpful body along with him.

“That sounds right,” Silver purred against his ear, wetly - God help him - cuddling up against Flint’s side.  “But I’d still really like to kiss you.”

“Perhaps when you’re sober,” Flint protested, weakly, attempting to brush the other man off.

“Again, when I’m sober,” Silver mewled amicably, pressing his open mouth against the thin material of Flint’s shirt where it barely covered his shoulder after all the effort of reeling that unwieldy fish out of the water.

Silver’s body was already beginning to warm to the touch, the sheets absorbing the moisture from his skin, and Flint smirked at the thought of Max and Bonny finding their sheets somewhat worse for wear upon their return. 

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Silver spoke again.  It was strangely good to see him like this, pliant and with that smile of contentment on his handsome features which had been so oft marred by agony in the past months. 

“At what?” Flint asked, breathlessly.

“Taking care of me.”

Perhaps it wasn’t such a big deal, in the grand scheme of his moral transgressions, especially of late.  Flint wrapped one arm around Silver’s naked, narrow waist and pressed him closer, letting their lips touch with gentle uncertainty.  After everything that Silver had stolen from him, perhaps the least he could do in return is steal a kiss back. Even if only one of them remembered it in the morning.

[marvelfansince08love]

My loyalties lie with you, not the title you’ve been given - Part 3

Word count: 4K 

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Protector!Reader 

Warning: a lot of gay pining

A/N: Thank you sm for all your comments and feedback from the last part, I’m overwhelmed I love writing this series and I’m glad you guys enjoy it. Thanks @imnotasuperhero and @canarypoint again you wonderful people!

Tags my darlings: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @creepingwolfberry @muted-stoneheart @saucy-sapphic @coconutlipss @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k @nyx-aira @versonstar @witchxaf @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @r0an0ke @pearplate​ @kikaykimkim​ @the-obscuritywrites​ I feel like that’s everyone, please let me know if I have missed you or you want to be added! 

Part 3

The drive back to the academy is long and eerie as you remain silent, thoughts spiralling out of control in your mind. The plan was simple; continue with stake outs and guarding the academy where the warlocks will join the coven tomorrow evening, both Cordelia and John had agreed that this was the best way of keeping the group in one space so if the figure were to attack again it would make it easier to capture it in one place. You look across to the blonde supreme watching as her brows remain furrowed in concentration, her hands tight around the wheel as she stares straight ahead. You decide to break the silence. 

“I think it would be best to call for a meeting once we get in. The girls should be informed of the danger.” You suggest, keeping your voice low as to not startle her from her thoughts. She blinks once as if only registering your voice, clearing her throat she nods in agreement. 

“I think that would be best. My other girls should be arriving home tomorrow morning at the earliest, hopefully with some good news,” Cordelia mutters, her big brown doe eyes glancing briefly at your concerned expression. “What?” She asks, a shaky smile appearing across her soft pink lips.

“We'll get through this, Lia. You aren’t alone, you know? I meant what I said back there, I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice, full of promise and reassurance, makes her smile appreciatively at you before concentrating back on the long road. You smile at her side profile before going in search of a CD disk wanting to fill the silence with something that will keep her distracted from her thoughts. Opening the glove box, your eyes sparkle with excitement as you let out a small squeal. Cordelia glances bemused at your sudden outburst. 

“Oh my god! You kept it?!” You exclaim happily, reaching for the old mixtape. Your eyes skimming across the black ink that marks the front of the tape case. 

“For Lia, Happy eighteenth birthday. Yours, Y/N.” You read out loud, a wide smile forming upon your lips as your finger skims over the cover.

“Of course I kept it, it only has my favourite songs on there. One of the reasons why I bought this car was so I could play these tapes,” Cordelia gushes, as she basks within your excitement. 

Chuckling together, you place the tape inside the cassette player watching as it comes to life, the sweet voice of Stevie Nick flows throughout the car. Leaning your head back against the headrest you close your eyes as you allow her soft voice to relax you. Peeking over, you notice Cordelia’s hands have loosened around the wheel making you grin satisfied with your attempt to help her relax. The sound of Cordelia’s hum makes you smile as you close your eyes again, tapping your foot to the steady beat of ‘Dreams’ as you make your way home. 

Opening your eyes again, you feel a soft hand shake gently around your arm coaxing you out of your sleepy haze. Brown eyes gaze upon you as you begin to come around, stretching slightly in your seat. 

“Damn, Stevie has done it again,” you mumble tiredly, smiling sheepishly. Cordelia chuckles lightly and a familiar sense of deja vu falls upon you, remembering the many nights you would fall asleep to that woman’s sweet voice. 

“Come on, sleepyhead. We’re home.” She says, fondness evident within her voice. Your heart flutters at her choice of words. 

Home. 

Stepping through the front door of the academy, you notice how awfully quiet it is as you take in the empty hallways. Suddenly, you hear laughter erupted to the left of you as you quickly turn to the sound. Frowning, you look towards Cordelia in confusion as she smiles fondly. 

“I almost forgot it’s movie night,” She fills you in, stepping towards the door where the laughter had erupted from. Following closely by, you peek through the crack to see most of the young witches scattered around the living room space, eyes glued to the big projector. Your eyes clash with Myrtle's who sits further away from the girls, a book in hand as the fire clashes with her red hair from behind. 

“Cordelia, Y/N, darlings. I was getting worried.” She croaks, placing her book into her lap. Her greeting seems to cause the other girls in the room to look in your direction as you both make yourself known to the group.

“Good evening, girls. I’m sorry we're back so late,” Cordelia addresses the room, as the girls glance between the two of you. Some with glee and excitement as they subtly whisper to one another, some in confusion as they take in their tired supreme. Queenie and Zoe soon appear, feeling the presence of their supreme as they stand close by, eyes apprehensive as they await an update on the situation at hand. You stand a few inches behind Cordelia allowing her to address her coven, as she slips back into her role as supreme. 

“I was hoping that I would have had this problem squished by now. However, it seems that we- I underestimated our current situation,” Cordelia confesses, her expression one of sorrow and exhaustion. The young witches remain silent as they keep their eyes forward waiting for their supreme to continue.

“As you all know, some of our neighbouring warlocks have been taken from their school and haven’t been seen for the past week. After some extensive conversations with the council, we have decided that it’s within our best interest to house the boys here while we track down this dark source,” Cordelia pauses as the girls erupt into hushed conversation with one another. You eye her tense figure watching as her hands shake subtly at her side, Without thinking, you reach out for her shaking hand and brush your fingers lightly within her palm; the sensation bringing a calming effect to her body as she relaxes almost instantly at your touch, her head turned slightly she mouths a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back and addressing the now frantic coven. 

Stepping back slightly, you allow Cordelia to continue with informing the coven of your next steps in defeating this dark entity. Watching their eyes fill with worry and fright but with Cordelia’s reassuring smile and Myrtle's words of wisdom, the girls seem to relax knowing that they will be looked after, feeling safe within these walls that are full of strong and powerful witches.

Knowing that Cordelia has the situation under control, you decide it would be best to go and make some tea in the kitchen for her, knowing she’ll need it.  As you boil the sweet tea, the faint sound of Cordelia’s shoes echo through into the room, making you smile softly as you briefly glance at her tired figure. 

“You got anything stronger in that tea?” She teases, taking a seat at the kitchen countertop. Her hands now laced in front of her as she sighs heavily. You grimace feeling her tired energy surround you like a vice. 

Turning towards her, you place the now steaming cup in front of her hands watching as she inhales in the sweet smell of cinnamon. As she reaches for the cup you pull your hands back allowing her a few minutes of peace. Sitting across from her you watch as she takes a tentative sip from the cup, humming in satisfaction she closes her eyes for a moment allowing her body to relax after a hard day. 

“If you want, I could go and take some of Myrtle’s special vodka that she keeps in her cabinet?” You whisper, conspiringly pretending to look out for the woman in question making Cordelia laugh at your playfulness. She shakes her head, a small grin appearing on her face as she reaches over to hold your hands within her own, her thumb brushing softly over your skin looking into your eyes with such softness. 

“Thank you for being there with me today, I don’t think I would have held it together as much as I did if you weren’t there.” She confesses, squeezing your hands with gratitude. Flustered by her words and her touch you mutter a quick ‘don’t worry about Delia’ smiling softly at her. 

“It’s gone awfully quiet down here, are the girls finishing their film?” You ask, wanting to step away from the dangerous territory that is you and her. Removing your hands, you decide to busy yourself with placing scattered pots and pans in their rightful place. Without noticing Cordelia’s dejected look, she clears her throat and answers catching onto your change of subject. 

“No, I think the conversation we had kinda put a damper on things.. They’ve all settled into their rooms for the night.” She quietly says, as she circles the rim of her mug with her finger, mind distracted. Taking yourself over to her, you squeeze her shoulder in passing as you whisper ‘be right back’ leaving a confused blonde at the table. 

Upon returning, you watch her eyes brighten as she takes in the big coloured mismatched comforter as she eyes the knitted patterns that are now a little worn down after so many years of being used. Holding the comforter up, you look to the side of the material to lock eyes with the witch. 

“Outside?” You ask simply, the familiar sense of deja vu once again falls upon the room as Cordelia nods excitingly. Chuckling together you lead the supreme out into the backyard and head for the old swing set on the back porch. Sitting down comfortably, you bring the old comforter over your knees and lean back simultaneously, with a mug still in hand Cordelia sighs into the dark cold air before taking another sip. 

“God, I miss coming out here at night,” she reminisces, a peaceful smile present on her lips. You watch her for a few moments taking in her appearance, the slight crinkle by her eyes, her features more defined and mature but you smile unconsciously thinking that she has never looked more beautiful than when she’s at peace with herself, her smile still the same one you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Do you remember our last night out here?” You ask, a tone of sadness laced within your voice. Her eyes open at your question as you watch her eyes mist over, her smile turned downwards as she recollects. 

“How could I forget? It was only one of the worst days of my life. The first being my wedding day. God, what a stupid decision that was.” She mutters into her mug as she takes a sip. You smirk smugly, remembering what an awful person Hank was, he never deserved your Delia. 

“He was a pompous asshole, Lia. Me and your mother may have never gotten on but the one thing we did agree on was that.” You joke, bumping your shoulder against her own in good nature. 

“She did like you, you know? Fiona Goode was never one to show her emotions well, but I could tell she liked you.” Cordelia insists, a small smile playing on her lips. You scoff in disbelief. 

“Are you kidding? The first time that woman caught me in your room I thought my short life was about to end there and then!” You exclaim, laughing at the memory watching the blonde bite her top lip to refrain herself from joining in.

“Okay, so maybe she tolerated you. More than she did him, that’s for sure.” She reassures, sinking further into the comforter. You decide to toe at the ground allowing the porch swing to sway slightly back and forth in the cold air, the crickets chirping away within the depths of the academy's ground garden. 

“I’ve missed you, you know? I’ve missed this.” She whispers into the dark as she places her now empty mug onto the floor and leaning back against the swing, enjoying the peace. Your lips twitch as you mimic her action, the blonde witch places her head against your shoulder making you lean your head onto top of her own. She wiggles slightly as she brings the comforter higher up towards her neck. Sighing in content, you watch fondly as her eyes and nose twitch occasionally as she fights against sleep. 

Me too.

***

‘Y/N, Delia, darlings. We have beds for a reason, my dears,” Myrtle’s warm voice makes you twitch as your eyes flutter open to the sound, feeling another warm body next to you stir awake. The moon is still strong and bright as you take in the dark night sky realising you both must have fallen asleep out here. Glancing over to Cordelia, you notice her come to the same conclusion as her eyes widen slightly, a small colour of pink spreads across her cheeks. You both move apart quickly, as you fold up the old comforter glaring subtly at Myrtle who only grins knowingly. The red head twirls around and heads back towards the back door, her words making you flush as you avert your eyes from the blonde.

“Some things never change,” Myrtle’s raspy voice teases, as she elegantly opens the door and makes a quick exit, leaving you both alone. Scratching at the back of your neck, you go to utter an apology but Cordelia already beats you to it. 

“I am so sorry, I must have been more tired than I thought,” she apologises, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she reaches for her empty mug. You shrug indifferently before muttering ‘it’s not a problem’ before gesturing with your head. 

“Maybe we should follow her advice, sleeping out here is never a good idea.” You say, the peace and content you felt before no longer present as you remember your current situation. Cordelia nods in agreement before brushing past you and into the academy muttering a quick ‘good night’ her soft lips brushing briefly against your cheek. 

Lifting your head to the sky, you sigh heavily. 

‘She’s going to be the death of me’ 

Following day 

The sun burns bright above the academy as the girls gather outside, whispering and giggling to one another as they eye the two strong male protectors who stand in the middle of the open garden as the trees sway slightly in the light breeze behind them in this early morning. You roll your eyes from your position in the kitchen watching through the window as the teen witches become transfixed on your dorky older brothers, your eyes roll even further as you spot Madison eyeing them up as if they were her next meal. Sipping on your chamomile tea, you hear that familiar chuckle from your ex lover. Coming to stand next to you, you pass her your tea knowing that she enjoys the flavoured tea in the morning. Giving her thanks to you she takes the mug and follows your gaze to the performance outside. 

“Ah, I see it didn’t take Michael long to walk around shirtless. Does that guy even own more than one shirt?” Cordelia teases, making you laugh out loud. Arms crossed as you watch him use the spare sparring bamboo stick, striking forward towards your brother who blocks the attack. 

“He says it helps him when training or something. He’s a pig, what else do you expect?” You laugh, shaking your head. Your laughter is stopped short when you feel her warm breath close to your ear. 

“You should show him up a little in front of the girls, it’ll teach him a lesson. It gives Elijah a break from being used as a dummy,” She suggests, keeping her voice low as if conspiring. You fight back a groan at feeling her warm breath against your skin deciding to step back and grin at her suggestion. 

“You are one smart woman,” You joke, trying to ignore the fast thumping of your heart. Practically skipping towards the back down, you turn and wink at her before going to do exactly what she said. 

Standing tall on top of the porch, you continue to watch your brothers fight one another with accurate attacks and blocks. The girls quieten once they notice your presence, practically beaming in awe as you look towards them and wink subtly, placing a finger against your lips in a request to stay quiet as you disappear in front of them making them gasp excitingly as they finally see some of your powers in action. 

Now behind Elijah, you whisper quickly into his ear. 

“I got him,” He grins at your words before disappearing to stand next to Cordelia who now stands at the porch watching on proudly, having seen you train like this before with your brothers she’s excited for the girls to see it in action. She’s also missed seeing this side of you but that she would never admit. 

Michael turns around feeling the presence change near him, he grins when he spots you. 

“Come to join in, sis.” He says smugly, twirling the stick around in his hand. You match his expression, enjoying his attempt to taunt you in front of the audience that has now grown outside. 

“You never learn, do you Mike? Shall I show them how it’s done?” You challenge, already feeling your powers flow through you like electricity. 

Taking your starting stance, you take in his form watching how his hands twitch around his sparring weapon, his eyes darting around as if contemplating his next move, you smirk when you realise his next step as he eyes the tree behind you for a moment too long. Advancing forward you wait until he disappears in front of you, giving him a second advantage before teleporting behind by the tree and shoving him forward making him stumble. While he stumbles forward you quickly grab Elijah’s abandoned sparring stick before clashing it against his own weapon. Sticking your leg out, you swap instantly at his legs making him stumble to the floor with a grunt. 

“Come on, M. Madison’s watching.” You taunt, as he becomes reddened in frustration. He scrambles to his feet again, allowing him to regain his sense and his pride. You continue to spar back and forth, swinging and dodging his attacks only allowing him one good hit before effectively removing his only weapon, leaving him vulnerable. Gritting his teeth, he grumbles in frustration before advancing forward one more time. You step back allowing your power of Phytokinesis to manipulate the vines that lay around the tree branches on either side of you to shoot forward and wrap tightly around his wrist keeping him in place as he falls to his knees, stepping confidently towards him you crotch down so you are eye level. 

“Do you surrender?” You ask, a teasing grin playing on your lips. Your eyes sparkle with mischief and complacency. He huffs, chuckling quietly as he shakes his head. 

“You’re a real dick sometimes. You know that, right?” He says, but you can tell by his playful eyes that there's no real bite behind it. Shrugging you step back and stand up, turning to the stunned audience, before erupting in cheers. You bow playfully for them, glancing briefly at Cordelia’s face catching her fond eye roll at your dramatics making you grin as you allow the vines to withdraw from his wrists and back onto the tree trunks.

A few of the younger girls move forward towards you in excitement, as they ask multiple questions over one another as your brother grumbles his way back over to Elijah, his bruised ego following close behind. Chuckling to yourself you crouch down to the group and explain some of the powers used during your training watching their eyes fill with wonder. 

“I wanna be a protector!” 

“Do you think I can hold the power of manipulating the trees?!” You try to answer their rushed questions, feeling slightly overwhelmed by their interest in you. As they continue to talk over one another you stand up and look around for Cordelia, frowning when you see her look into the trees with a cautious expression. Following her gaze, you notice a small white light grow bigger between the two front trees, noticing three dark figures within the circle of light. You go to move the girls behind you ready to fight whatever mysterious figures come through the portal, but you stop as soon as you hear Cordelia choke out. 

“Misty.”  

You frown at her expression, as her eyes gloss over with tears as she takes in the other two women that now stand, flanking this Misty woman. Cordelia lets out a watery laugh as she moves briskly from the porch and towards the three women as Zoe and Queenie join her. Madison stays back as she lights a cigarette, unfazed by their arrival. You turn your gaze from the group and towards your brothers who stand at the porch, Elijah shrugs just as confused as you. Turning your gaze back to the newcomers, you watch how Cordelia takes them in one by one cupping their faces with such delicacy your eyes widen as you realise exactly who they are. 

“My other girls should be arriving tomorrow” 

You go to move forward but stop yourself as you take in how Cordelia keeps her hands close to Misty’s face, racking her fingers through her hair tenderly. The gesture makes you want to look away as you swallow the small lump that has formed within your throat. As if sensing your hesitance, Cordelia turns her gaze towards you as she drops her hands to her sides again. Her gaze draws the other girls attention to you as you now stand awkwardly with the younger witches. 

“Mallory, CoCo, Misty, I would like you to meet Y/N. M- the protector.” The words hurt a little bit more than what you would have liked but you put on a smile and wave at the three as they do the same. Misty’s mouth forms into an ‘o’ as she looks between you and Cordelia, her eyes bright as she launches forward and takes both your hands into her own squeezing in greeting. 

“My,  it’s an honour to finally meet cha, Ms.Wardwell. Ms.Delia has told me so much about you,” Misty gushes, her smile wide. The other young girls around you giggle at Misty’s enthusiasm, clearly used to the woman’s outgoing personality. Their giggling draws Misty’s attention away from you as she greets them, talking animatedly to them about her time away leading them back into the academy. She looks back at the group and nods towards Mallory, as if giving her permission to inform you all of what they have found. 

Moving closer so you can listen in you feel the atmosphere change as you all look at Mallory. 

“Mallory, what did you find?” Zoe asks the question that’s been on everyone’s mind. 

“We know where it’s located and it’s not too far from here. We’ve been tracking it all the way from Salem and with each passing day it’s becoming stronger.” She shakingly informs, as CoCo keeps a supportive hand on her shoulder. 

“We saw it last downtown here in New Orleans, I don’t know how long it’s planning on staying but it’s here and we should probably attack it before it attacks us again. This might be our only chance. Cordie,” CoCo finishes, her expression distraught. You look towards Cordelia, already feeling the cogs turning inside her head. 

“We need to inform the rest of the council, we may need more people in on this, Queenie and Zoe go and contact Marie Laveau,” She says. Hearing a scoff from Madison, you turn to face her. 

“You can’t seriously be thinking about it.” you look back towards Cordelia, confused by her question. The blonde bites her lip as she locks eyes with you, her eyes conflicted. 

“Can you still bring people back from the dead?”