#and it seems pretty clear the sister did it and like… it’s just so dark m8

[cattoru]

holy fuck

[delulujuls]

healing sessions | aegon II targaryen

hi, it's been a hot minute since i posted here, the last weeks were pretty intense for me and since i have a summer break now, i would like to start writing again and do it more regularly.

this is something new here and since new episode of hotd dropped, im in my westeros era, so please prepare for something other than my last shots (i will still write for f1, don't worry)

and lemme set this straight, im team black till the day i die but those green bastards are FINE AS HELL lmao. also @alicenthightcwer is author of those gifts

summary: aegon isn't dealing well with his father loss, but gladly there is someone who's gonna do her best to lift his spirit a bit

warnings: it's fluff without basically any plot, sister x brother romance so targaryens at their finest, mentions of death, depression, alcohol, drugs

pairing: sister!reader x aegon targaryen

The news of King Viserys's death did not surprise the residents of King's Landing. Nonetheless, the loss of the kind ruler dealt a painful blow to the city, which seemed to freeze in time with the king's passing. The capital plunged into mourning, and in addition to the banners, black flags were hoisted. Westeros was left without a king.

Viserys's successor, his second child and first son, Aegon Targaryen, had not been seen since the king's funeral. Aegon had lost not just a king but, most importantly, a father who, unfortunately for him, named him the future ruler on his deathbed.

Aegon would have gladly given the throne to Rhaenyra, his older half-sister. He would have done it without hesitation, even placing the crown on her head himself. Unfortunately, his mother Alicent, who was with her dying husband and heard his wish to elevate their eldest son to the throne, decided to fulfill her beloved husband's last wish at any cost.

To be honest, Aegon couldn't care less about being king. The young prince had not left his bed for several days, thick curtains blocking any light from outside. Occasionally, servants were allowed into his chambers, but only with wine and poppy milk. Aegon did not eat, allowed no one near him, and slept. Sleep was his salvation. Even the prostitutes, who once outnumbered the rats in the castle, were no longer summoned. The fiery prince had dimmed.

Alicent knew she needed to give her son time to grieve. She didn't bother him, only inquiring about his condition from the servants who managed to enter his chambers. It was enough for her to know that he was alive. Aegon's siblings dealt with their grief in their own ways, and his condition hardly impressed anyone. Except for Y/N, who, despite her own pain, worried about her brother. Sitting at breakfast, she silently observed Aegon's chair, which remained empty. After her husband's death, Alicent decreed that all meals, not just dinners, be taken together. The firstborn had not appeared at any of them since.

After a silent breakfast punctuated by brief, formal conversations, Y/N stood up and grabbed a plate, filling it with Aegon's favorite croissants and a portion of strawberries. She was done pretending nothing was wrong. This had to end.

"You shouldn't go to him," Alicent said quietly as the servants began clearing the table. "You know him, he'll come out when he's ready."

"Or he'll drink himself to death first," she replied, not even glancing at her mother. Alicent clasped her hands and pressed them to her lips, watching her family fall apart without knowing how to stop it.

Y/N left the dining room and went to Aegon's chambers. She knocked first, wanting to maintain decorum, but knowing it was futile, she grabbed the handle and pushed the heavy door open. Inside was darkness. Only a nearly spent candle by the bed gave off any light; the room looked like a cave. She blindly set the plate on a table, and with arms outstretched, she made her way to the windows. With a swift motion, she drew the curtains, and even she was blinded by the sudden light that flooded in. Not hearing any curses from her brother, Y/N looked over her shoulder. On the large bed, a figure lay curled up, back to her. From the waist down, he was covered with a sheet that blended with his pale skin. White hair in disarray touched the crumpled pillow. Aegon was either in a deep sleep or dead.

Y/N opened the curtains at every window, flinging some open. The room was stuffy, reeking of stale alcohol, sweat, and the sweet scent of poppy milk. She circled the bed, crouching opposite her brother. He was indeed asleep, but his breathing was shallow. His lips were cracked, stained with dried blood. His eyelashes were matted with tears, and dark circles marred his eyes. There was a bruise under his left eye that was different from the ones under his eyes, as it began to fade and turn from purple to green. Y/N remembered her mother, who had been rubbing her hand while sitting at the table for several days. She could only guess that Alicent was trying to shake her son off in her own way.

Aegon slept, lying on his side and hugging himself, seeking comfort only he could provide. Y/N brushed the tangled strands from his forehead and kissed him. Aegon did not stir.

The princess knew he wouldn't allow servants to tend to him. She left the room quietly, asking the maids to prepare a hot bath quickly and silently. Y/N returned and sat beside him on the bed, gently stroking his head.

Aegon wasn't the bad person many thought him to be. True, he was unique, and in a room full of people, he was impossible to ignore, but no one is born evil. Now, Aegon was simply engulfed in darkness from which he couldn't free himself. The slender, sticky fingers of depression had tightened around his throat, allowing only alcohol to pass.

After some time, a maid stood by the bed, whispering that the bath was ready, nervously glancing at the sleeping prince, afraid of waking him up. Y/N thanked and dismissed her, then leaned in and kissed her brother's forehead again.

"Aegon..." she began softly, close to his ear. "Wake up, I have strawberries for you."

He furrowed his brow, feeling her hair tickle his face. At first, he thought it was a dream or a drunken hallucination, but when he felt the urge to sneeze, he wiped his face with his hand. When he opened his heavy eyelids and saw how bright it was, he pulled the pillow over his head.

"I said no one was to come in," he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I'll have you killed for this."

"It's nice to see you too, considering I haven't seen you in over a week," she replied, sitting back on his bed and placing the breakfast she brought on the table beside him.

Hearing the familiar voice and wanting to ensure it wasn't a drunken hallucination, Aegon removed the pillow from his face, clutching it to his chest. From squinted eyes, his violet gaze spotted a well-known figure.

"Y/N?" he asked hoarsely, his voice betraying that he'd only spoken to chase away servants in the past days.

"Yes, it's me," she nodded. "And if you still want to kill me, you'll have to get out of bed, which I doubt you can do."

Aegon sighed, more of a grunt of dissatisfaction. He wanted to cover his face with the pillow again, but his sister took it and easily pulled it from his arms.

"Did you come here just to make my life more miserable?" he groaned, looking at her with displeasure.

"I came to stop what you thought was the best solution," Y/N explained. "I brought you breakfast and a hot bath."

"I don't want breakfast or a bath," Aegon replied, turning onto his other side. "And you can leave. Tell mother I'm not dead yet."

"I'm not leaving until you get out of bed," she informed him, staring at his back.

"Then enjoy your stay," he muttered, closing his eyes again.

Y/N sighed. She knew it might be hard, but in a few days, she had almost forgotten her brother's character. And Aegon's character was sometimes the textbook definition of a Targaryen.

"I came here because I want to help you," Y/N began, feeling a lump in her throat. "No one talks to each other, and when they do, it's just some fucking formalities. Aemond flies on Vhagar every day, Helaena spends hours in the garden with her books, Rhaenyra has been on Dragonstone since the funeral, mother is banging with Cole at every turn, and I don't even know if you're alive," she said in one breath, feeling tears prickling her eyes. Only when she said it all out loud did she realize what was happening. It wasn't just about informing Aegon; it was about making herself understand. The truth hurt her even more than she expected.

Hearing his sister's trembling and upset voice, Aegon sighed and turned onto his back, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Only now could his sister see his full appearance. It was the image of a boy deep in mourning and struggling with unimaginable pain.

For a moment, they exchanged looks in silence until Aegon glanced at the nightstand beside his bed.

"Did you bring strawberries?"

She reached for the plate and placed it on the bed next to her brother. Aegon weakly lifted his hand and took one, eating it whole, including the stem.

"Croissants with filling?" he asked, chewing. Y/N nodded again.

"Nut and chocolate," she answered. Aegon silently took a croissant and slowly began to eat.

Y/N quickly wiped her cheeks as two single tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. The young prince looked at his sister, who also seemed different than he remembered from a few days ago. Her hair was still neatly combed, with a few small braids woven into it. The dark red dress, which he thought he had seen her wear before, now seemed to hang a bit loosely on her shoulders and wrinkle at the stomach. The color of the dress reminded him of the bloody cuticles around her nails, which she must have bitten out of nerves. Her face, still beautiful, was now paler than usual, almost as white as her hair. Her swollen eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and her lips seemed to have completely forgotten what a smile was.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment when he had finished eating. Y/N pushed the plate closer to him, and as he reached for another croissant, she only shrugged.

"I'm sad. And I sleep poorly," she replied, staring out the window.

"You know, poppy milk—", "I won't drink it," she interrupted him.

Aegon raised his hands in a defensive gesture, taking another bite of the croissant.

"And you?" she asked, looking at him. "How are you feeling?"

He also shrugged.

"I don't even know. Now I think I feel nothing," he said, looking back at her. "Most of the time I feel nothing, except when a wave of sadness hits, and then I cry like a child until I fall asleep again."

Y/N nodded silently. She could tell that Aegon had spent many hours crying.

He put the last piece of croissant in his mouth and reached for a strawberry, handing it to his sister. She took it and ate it, nodding with appreciation.

"Not bad, right?" Aegon said, seeing her reaction. "Unusually sweet for this time of year."

Y/N let out an involuntary snort, lowering her head. Their father was dead, the country was without a king, the family was falling apart, and this idiot was talking about how great the strawberries were.

"They really are good, I don't know what you mean," he replied, taking the last strawberry and popping it into his mouth. The girl smiled, for the first time in a long while, then looked at her brother.

"I miss you, you know?"

"I'm not dead yet," he said sarcastically, rubbing his face with his hands. Y/N set the plate aside, and Aegon extended his arm toward her, silently inviting a hug. The girl shook her head and stood up.

"Maybe I miss you, but not enough to hug you after so many days without a bath," she replied, nodding her head towards the bathroom.

"You've got to be kidding," he snorted, but she shook her head again and pointed to the bathroom. Aegon sighed and slid off the bed, looking at her reproachfully the entire time. When he stood, the sheet slipped off completely, and he, naked and unbothered, walked unsteadily toward the bathroom. Y/N asked the servants to change his bedding and clean the room while she locked herself in the bathroom with him. As he sat in the water, she perched on the edge of the tub, rolling up the sleeves of her dress.

She reached for the nearby comb and slowly began to untangle his matted hair. They both remained silent, as words were completely unnecessary at that moment. After a while, she put the comb down and picked up the sponge, wetting it and pouring water over his hair. Aegon closed his eyes and tilted his head forward.

Y/N grabbed the soap and lathered it in her hands, adding a few drops of lavender oil. Aegon smiled as the familiar, pleasant scent filled the air, while she began to wash his hair. He sat there with his eyes closed, allowing his sister to take care of him. Aegon felt that of everyone in the family, only Y/N truly cared about him. Despite being the second youngest sibling, just after Helaena, he had always gotten along best with her. They were almost inseparable, always sitting together at feasts, stuffing sweets into their pockets to eat later in the garden when they managed to escape the table. Rhaenyra, their half-sister, was always the oldest and most composed. Aemond, younger than Aegon, was calm and collected but could stab a knife into someone’s neck without blinking if provoked. Helaena lived in her own world, surrounded by books, flowers, and maesters who had tried to help her ever since they noticed something was off with the growing princess. Aegon was often irreformable, acting and speaking first and thinking later. When he was younger, he was incredibly unruly, the mastermind behind every wild idea that Y/N almost always eagerly supported. The young princess loved her brother, who always tried to make her smile. Aegon loved his sister and knew that of all the people in the castle, she was the only one he would kill for and die for either.

Young prince winced quietly when Y/N, massaging his tense shoulders, ran her thumb over a particularly tight muscle.

"You're as hard as a rock," she said, continuing to massage his back. Aegon smiled to himself.

"Not quite yet," he joked.

She rolled her eyes and soaked the sponge again, rinsing the soap off his back with warm water. As she got up to stoke the fire, Aegon submerged himself in the water, washing the soap off himself and his hair. After a moment, he sat up straight and wiped his face off, leaning on the sides of the tub. He silently watched his sister, whose silhouette was highlighted by the flickering fire in the fireplace. Her white, slightly wavy hair cascaded down her back. The young prince smiled and bit his lip. Blood of my blood.

When Y/N finished tending to the fire, she stood up and dusted off her hands. She looked up, feeling her brother's gaze on her. He watched her in silence.

"Care to join?" he asked, glancing at the tub before looking back at her.

She shook her head, stepping closer and looking at the murky water. "I think I'll pass this time."

Aegon extended his hand toward her, and she gave him hers, which he pressed to his lips, planting a wet kiss on her skin. She smiled at his gesture.

"I'll go dismiss the servants," she said, stroking his cheek. "Make sure you wash away all the sadness."

The princess left the bathroom and returned to the chambers. They looked much better now, with two servants finishing changing the bed linens. When they were done, she thanked and dismissed them. She approached the large wardrobe, looking for clean clothes for her brother. She planned to get him outside for a walk, even if just a short one.

She placed the clothes on a chair and sat on the bed, running her hand over the freshly made bedding. Shortly after, Aegon emerged from the bathroom, not bothering to cover himself with even a towel.

When he stood in the doorway, Y/N involuntarily looked up at him. She looked him up and down, causing Aegon to smile.

"Like what you see?" he asked, approaching the bed without taking his eyes off her.

"I'm just checking if you washed yourself properly," she retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze when he stood right in front of her.

Aegon still wore a faint smile as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His pale skin had gained a bit of color from the hot bath, but he had goosebumps from the cool, fresh breeze coming through the windows. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, but his gaze was now clear and certain, darkening as he was looking at his sister.

"I missed you too," he said after a moment of silence, during which they exchanged looks. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. "Make love with me."

It wasn't a command or even a request. It was a quiet murmur filled with desperation, almost sounding like a plea. Aegon needed to feel her warmth, needed to feel something other than the alcoholic breath of death that placed cold kisses on him.

She silently stood from the bed, and before he could say anything, she touched his cheek and kissed him. Aegon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, returning the kiss. Blindly, he started to fumble with the ties of her dress, but seeing his struggle, she began undressing herself. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her tenderly. When she loosened her corset, Aegon grabbed the bottom of her gown and quickly pulled it over her head, tossing it aside. She shivered at the sudden chill but soon felt Aegon's warm body against her skin. He smiled into her mouth.

"You're so soft," he whispered between kisses, holding her tightly as if he wanted to lock her inside his ribcage. "Go on, lie down."

She obeyed, positioning herself comfortably on a pile of pillows. Aegon hovered over her, kissing her gently. Their hands tangled in each other's hair, touching and grasping every bit of skin they could reach. Lips swollen from kissing released soft sighs and moans mixed with tender words.

Aegon could be gentle, delicate, and caring. He wasn't like this with the whores he sometimes brought to his chambers to relieve himself and kill boredom. But he loved his sister dearly and would never harm her.

The young prince couldn't remember the first time his sister came to his chambers and stayed the night. It was probably before their father's illness. One autumn, Aegon caught a terrible cold. He couldn't sleep at night, and his cough kept the entire western wing of the castle awake. One night, a sleepy Y/N went to his room, silently took the nearby laying ointment, sat on his hips, and began rubbing it on his chest. Aegon, feverish, thought he was hallucinating. But when he woke up the next morning and saw his naked sister asleep in his bed, he knew the events of the previous night hadn't been a fever dream.

Now, too, Aegon had to think twice if the soft body in his arms was really there or just a trick of his drunken mind.

"Are you real?" he whispered, pulling away from her lips and looking at her face.

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Y/N replied just as softly.

Aegon smiled involuntarily and hurriedly disappeared between her thighs.

At dinner, not only Aegon's chair was empty. The chair next to his, Y/N's, was also vacant.

Aemond glanced sideways at his sister, who tried to hide her smile behind her hair. Otto looked at her as well, then at her mother.

"Helaena?" Alicent spoke, looking at the blushing face of her daughter. "Is something wrong?"

"Aegon is feeling much better," she said. The young princess knew this first because the garden she particularly liked was just below her brother's chambers, and the windows, this time, were wide open.

[vivwritesfics]

Cowgirl

He was just there to see Kate, to make sure she was all right after what happened. He didn't expect to run into the pretty cowgirl and her horse.

There was an unfamiliar white truck in the driveway. There was always unfamiliar trucks in the driveway, always some rich asshole trying to purchase the land out from under their feet.

She patted her horse's neck as she looked at the truck. Storm Par. Tye name didn't tell her as much as she wanted it to. "Come on, Gambler." She tensed her leg against the horse's side and walked him towards the barn.

It was late, so late that she knew her mother would be furious with her. Her sister was always the good one, the one with high expectations placed on her shoulders. Expectations that she'd exceeded.

Jumping from Gamblers saddle, she walked him into the barn and did everything she needed to do. Untacked him, fed him, made sure the little makeshift stable was clean and he had enough food and water for the night.

They got a small corner of the barn. The rest of it was full of Kate's stuff. She couldn't be mad about that, not when Kate's stuff was so cool. But it also served as a grim reminded that she wasn't there, and hadn't been for years.

Shutting the barn for the night, she made her way back to the house. Storm Par, she'd seen that truck somewhere before, she just couldn't put her finger on it. She tried to look in the truck, but it was too dark to see anything.

She made her way inside of the house, toed off her dirty boots and dropped her keys in the bowl. Shrugging off her jacket, she hung it over the banister and made her way to the kitchen.

Her stomach made a desperate noise as she looked in the fridge for the leftovers. "I know, I know," she mumbled to herself, setting about heating it up.

Footsteps, on the stairs. "Mom?" She called over her shoulder. "Sorry I'm late, we lost track of time."

The person didn't respond as she stirred the leftovers in the pan to heat it up. When she turned around, her breath caught in her throat.

There stood her sister. Kate, the good one, the smart one, the one that had disappeared to New York. "Holy shit," she breathed as she looked at her. "Holy fuckin' shit."

"Hi," Kate said and swallowed.

She'd imagined this moment several times, what it would be like to be reunited with Kate. Had imagined running into her arms and holding her so tight that she couldn't leave again.

But, now that they were here, she was at a loss. It didn't feel right to embrace Kate in such a dramatic fashion, didn't feel right to do anything but just look at her.

She turned and stirred the leftovers in the pan. "What're you doing back?" She asked as she began to plate it up.

Kate shrugged her shoulders. "I was nearby," she said and sat at the kitchen table, sat in the seat opposite her. "Were you out with Gambler?"

She nodded as she ate.

No, it isn't bad writing, the conversation was stale. The sisters didn't quite know what so say to each other. Where had they left off when Kate disappeared? Why had she left them behind?

She didn't mean to resent her sister for getting out, for leaving her behind. Their mother had been so distraught when Kate left for New York, but she understood why. She still had her other daughter there. Her other daughter who wanted to leave, who wanted to travel across the country and make a life for herself.

Clearing her throat, she stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow," she mumbled and took her food up to her room. Kate wasn't blonde the last time she saw her. But that seemed to be the only difference.

She looked out of her window, looked at the Storm Par truck in the drive. It must have been Kate's truck, she decided and sat at her computer.

It was so easy to find information on Storm Par. To find out who they were, to find out what they did. The what wasn't important, and the who was only kind of important. It was the why that she cared about. And, when she found that out, why the hell would Kate work for a company like this?

A sour feeling settled in her stomach as she went to bed that night.

***

"Someone's feeling fresh," she mumbled as she walked Gambler forward. But Gambler didn't want to walk; he wanted to go.

She turned him in a sharp circle, since holding him back wasn't doing anything to stop him from taking off. "You wanna run, Gamble?" She challenged, walking him to the end of the drive. He was practically galloping on the spot.

When they get to the wide open field in front of them, she let him go. Gambler went. He galloped, snorting as he went. She held the mane and let him run until he got to the other end of the field. At the other end of the field, she got Gambler back under control and began walking him back to the house. Halfway across the field, she pushed him into a nice, controlled canter.

An unfamiliar red truck was parked in the driveway, parked beside the Storm Par truck. She squeezed on the reins, slowed Gambler down as she watched the guy climb out of the red truck. The cowboy hat on his head looked performative as he placed it back in his truck.

"Can I help you?" She asked as she walked Gambler over to him.

He was gorgeous. His charm was written in smile as he looked around at her home. Upon seeing her, his charming smile dropped from his face. "Uh, yeah," he said and turned again. "Is Kate here?" He asked.

She blew out a breath and gestured for him to follow her. He did, walking a good distance behind Gambler. "Are you with Storm Par as well?" She asked as she rode, the reins in one hand and her other hand resting on her thigh.

To Tyler, she looked all the bit the cowgirl. He knew cowgirls, he was an ex rodeo man, after all. This was the kind of girl he would have chased after before he went to study meteorology. "No," he said, that charming smile slowly reappearing on his face. "I do chase, though."

"Ah," she said as she jumped from the saddle and grabbed a hold of the reins. "You're one of those freaks." It was said completely in jest, the tone of her voice suggested. She pushed open the barn doors and led Tyler inside. "Kate," she called across the barn. "Someone here for you."

Tyler watched as she took her horse to the little stable in the back of the barn. And then he turned his attention to Kate.

All the time she was in the barn, Tyler couldn't help but look at her. She had a Stetson hanging off the stable door as she gave her horse a bath. It shouldn't have been distracting but, to Tyler, it was. She was just cleaning her horse, massaging the purple shampoo into his grey coat.

Every time Kate caught him staring, Tyler had the decency to quickly look away. But Kate just grinned at him and told him her name. "She's my sister," she said quietly.

He didn't expected to get invited to dinner. "You should," said Kate as she looked further into the barn. "She's cooking." Tyler looked back at her as she grabbed a black bucket and filled it with horse food.

Her cooking was incredible. She wore her Stetson as she brought the food to the table outside. Kate set the table as she placed an array of food on the middle of the table.

"Thank you, cowgirl," said Tyler as she placed the salad down in front of him.

Her cheeks were so hot as she sat in the seat opposite him. "Don't mention it," she muttered and began plating everything up.

It was easy not to look at her when her mother was asking him so many questions, questions he was happy to answer. But she hadn't stopped looking at him. Feeling like a creep, she tried to stay focused on her dinner. But his voice. Fuck, it was something else.

"What about you?"

She hadn't even realised he was talking to her. With her mouth full, she looked up at him. "What?" She asked around the food in her mouth.

"Do you like storms?"

It probably wouldn't have been such an odd question if she had been paying attention to the conversation. She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, they're pretty. But you wouldn't catch me dead outside in one."

Tyler's entire focus was on her, as if he'd forgotten her mother and Kate were there. "I bet I could change your mind," he said, voice full of confidence.

She took the challenge, copied his pose as she leaned towards him. "Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that?" She tried to copy the expression on his face, the charming grin he had so easily mastered.

He sat back in his seat and looked towards his truck. "You'll see, Cowgirl."

[solbaby7]

Forbidden Fruit

pairing: cassian x rhysand’s sister!reader

warnings: sneaking around, suggestive language, swearing, possible sexual content either way minors DNI, mutual pining, a simping Cass and a meddling Az

summary: The General Commander of the Night Court finds himself falling for the High Lords precious little sister.

—

Cassian knew better.

He was smarter than this—had better self-control and discipline than hundreds of thousands of men combined but all of that crumbles to ash the second you come prancing past in those tight pants. The same ones that sat low on your hips paired with the skin tight sleeveless top that showed off the wink of your navel and the dangling piercing that resided there. “Your brother know about that?”

“Oh, Commander,” His jaw clenched at the title, the sing-song lilt of your voice and the bedroom eyes that raked down the giant length of his form. Never in his life had he ever felt so anxious under a woman’s gaze and he fights the urge to shift his weight from foot to foot. “You’d be positively baffled by the things my brother doesn’t know about.”

It was a taunt; perfectly manicured nails plucking at a string that was already seconds away from snapping. Even then, Cassian can’t seem to help himself and like a small animal with little sense of self-preservation—he’s caught in your trap. “Like what?” He clears his throat, the words coming out too soft, too desperate and yet he can’t find it in him to be embarrassed when you’re looking at him like that.

Dark lashes frame pretty eyes that trail down the length of his body, a feline smile on full lips. “I really wish I could say, General,” Never had his body reacted to his title in such a way; skin burning like a flame when it came from you, dark hair hanging over your shoulders and he wills his knees not to buckle when you stalk closer. A manicured finger just barely grazes the length of his bicep and he’s already fighting the growing erection beneath his breeches. “But, I just can’t be sure you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

“I won’t say anything.”

You raise a brow, head quirking to the side and you’re unabashedly aware of the fact that this wing of the house was utterly bare save for you and Cass. “I’m throwing a little party tomorrow,” His surprise is evident; as witty and seductive as you may be, it was common knowledge how responsible you were. The pressures of perfection always weighed heavier on a woman and you handled it well. “Come if you’d like but only you.”

“Where?”

There’s a mischievous glint in your eye, fingers toying with the hilt of the sword hung at his hip. “Can’t say—you’ll just have to find me.”

He’s stuck in place when you saunter off, hips swishing from side to side until you disappeared behind closed doors at the end of the hall. Cassian huffed out a shaky breath, a hand raking through slightly overgrown strands as he willed his heart to return to its normal rhythm but he was already a goner. Mind utterly consumed in all things you from the shimmering pin tucked in your hair or the shiny sheen glossing over pouty lips.

For twenty-four hours he’d obsessed over the smell of your soap until his focus was shifted to the breathy little grunts you offer when sparring in the ring the following morning. “You’re getting sloppy.”

“Because,” You huff, breathing labored, sweat dripping down your back and you’d long since tied your hair in a knot at the top of your head. “I’m tired and can’t stop thinking about food.” You get in a few good jabs but the exhaustion sets in much quicker for you than it did the Illyrian soldier.

The idea that sets into his mind is disgraceful; pupils dilating at the very thought and he nearly moans out loud when you bend over to grab your canteen. Stretchy shorts hug tight around the curve of your ass and Cass is already diving head first into filthy fantasies of you bent over just like that with his face shoved between your thighs. It feels so real his mouth actually waters, throat bobbing with a gulp and his hands clench into tight fists.

It's wrong.

He couldn't—shouldn't—be thinking such thoughts but it's like you're doing it on purpose. Body elongated and spine dipping when tugging off the sweat-soaked training top. Only left in a sports bra and the holsters that wrap along your wrist and forearm, holding two swords so sharp you could probably slice his head from his shoulders with the right amount of intent. Yet, for some reason it doesn't deter him; the lethality of you that was always kept contained like some secret weapon just waiting for their moment.

The shirt hits the floor with a wet shlop and before Cassian can form words, Azriel is brushing past him with a knowing glance. "We'll feed you after you fight me," Cassian hates the way his nose scrunches in jealousy, lip twitching to curve into a snarl at the easy banter that arises between the two of you. Azriel stalks you like prey, sharp eyes raking up the length of skin you have bared—even if he does do it significantly more subtle than Cass.

You offer a breathy laugh, throat moving over the large gulps of water before falling into stance. Its casual, body loose from the thorough warm-up and Cass feels his blood rush at the mischievous smirk growing in the corner of your mouth, eyes darting to the shadows beginning to circle you. "Shouldn't take too long," Confidence dripped off your tongue like hot honey. "If you play fair, that is."

Az slowly tilts his head to the side, acutely aware of the rage radiating off his brother from the edge of the ring. It doesn't deter him in the slightest, shoulders rolling and wings tucking in preparation as a breeze shifted through his hair. "What's the fun in that?"

It's annoyingly fluid and Cassian just can't quell the frustration; lips scowled in a sneer the closer you and Azriel got. It should've been him with his hands touching your skin; should be him making you grunt and snap out snarky remarks whenever you'd lost the upper hand. The General's jaw clenches, teeth gritting when Az slams you down on the mat, holding down your arms as you struggle beneath such weight. "That's fine," Azriel jokes, sun beating down on golden skin, shining across amber irises and the brilliance is nearly overwhelming—nearly. "I like 'em squirmy."

It happens so fast that even the shadows don't have time to react when a whip of endless darkness wraps around the spymasters neck and snatches him back. The element of surprise works in your favor, offering enough time to get back on your feet and gain some distance despite the fact that he recovers unnervingly quick, gaze darkening under the challenge. "What? I thought we were having fun, Azzy?" A innocent little pout completely contridicts the growing throb of power that hums off your frame. "Playing around."

The sharp sting of metal unsheathing and the blades attached to your forearms are unfastened, the hilt twisting with practiced ease as you adjusted your grip.

You play the clueless female well—too well.

Maybe that’s why Azriel underestimates the true extent of your focus; too trained on the rapid rising and falling of your chest, the way your left leg trembles slightly with exhaustion and he’s completely blindsided by the way you adjust your magic to him. The deep abyss of darkness that usually comes when calling your power shifts, the shade adapting to that of Azriel’s shadows until there was no way to tell where he started and you ended.

You take the opening, mentally patting yourself on the back for the look of genuine shock that smears its way across Azriel’s face and he’s on the ground in seconds. Your knees dig into the juncture of flesh in his biceps, applying pressure to vital nerves as you hover over his chest. “Alright, alright,” He taps at the mat twice, sweat lacing his brow and fingers going numb. “You win.”

With a deep exhale, you flop to the side and sprawl flat out on the mat, limbs boneless as your head lazily turns to face a brooding Cassian. “Feed me. The Heiress of your Court demands it.” Maybe it was the linger aftershocks of jealousy that leads Cass to saunter over and hoist you over his shoulder. It’s effortless and the surprised yelp that strangled free is slightly more embarrassing that being manhandled. “Cassian,” You grunt, bunching your hands in the durable material of his leathers to brace yourself. “Put me down, right now!”

His amusement rumbles against your belly, one large hand splayed high on the back of your thigh. “I’m only doing as my Heiress asks.”

A flush warms your cheeks, no longer able to blame it on the sun when the cool air of the house shifts over your skin. “Seriously, put me down. You stink.”

“You don’t smell much better but I was practicing self-control and keeping it an inside thought.”

Your hand smacks on his back in retaliation, huffy swears echoing throughout the halls but Cassian continues as if you hadn’t done anything at all. Instead, he plops you into a seat at the dining table and instantly the house predicts your needs, providing a spread of food that has your mouth watering and stomach growling.

Before you can even reach for a plate, Cassian’s already washed his hands and come back to pile a plate full of your favorites, swiftly avoiding foods you didn’t enjoy as much as if it were second nature. A brow quirks playfully, form sinking into your seat comfortably. “You gonna help me shower too?”

“Only if my Heiress demands it.” His lips shift into a smirk so sinful you shift in place, fingers just barely recovering from losing your grip on your silverware.

A scoff hides your inability to form words, fork scraping against the fine china as you fill your mouth with much needed sustenance. Immediately, your shitty mood dissipates, hips wiggling in complete bliss while you indulge in garlicy breadsticks dipped in creamy pasta sauce.

“You’ve been training your powers.” Cassian mentions more so to distract himself from the little moans you let you with each bite. “I’ve never seen you manipulate them like that. Blending into Az’s shadows?”

“A girls gotta do something to fill her time.”

Golden eyes narrow in your direction, scanning the curve of your cheeks and slope of your nose. He lingers entirely too long on your mouth, pasta sauce gathering in the corner and his fingers twitch to reach over and wipe it off. “What else are you hiding under your sleeve?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Something about the way you look at him has Cassian’s skin going hot, the pale violet of your iris turning into nothing but a thin ring as your pupils eat up the free space. “And, I’d hate to have to get rid of my favorite boy.”

“I’m your favorite?”

You’re outright teasing; taunting the brick wall of a man with nothing more than polished silver and the insinuating drag of your tongue against your fork. “You think I give invitations to secret parties to any ol’ body? Please, I have better taste than that.”

It’s instinctual. Driven by nothing more than pure Illyrian pride, his chest subconsciously puffing up with pride under the kiss of your compliment. He’s not brave enough to elaborate on it—too afraid to jumble his words and make a godsdamned fool of himself. “Where is this party anyway?”

Silverware clangs against fine china, a signal that you’ve finished your meal and the house is quick when cleaning up for you, fondly topping up your wine and providing fresh linen to dab around your mouth.

You don’t take it.

Instead, you offer up a crimson red ribbon just barely long enough to fully wrap around Cassian’s wrist. It’s smooth like silk in his grasp, the material coated in your scent and it takes every scrap of decency he has left not to shove it up against his nose. “Follow those. Once you’ve collected the last one, you’ll find me.”

“And then what?”

A sultry smirk curves at your mouth as you rise from your chair. “Then, you can have me.” His mouth goes dry, fists closing over the strip of fabric clutched between his fingers. “Have fun hunting, General.”

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Angel of Music (Azriel x Reader)

AN: guys this is always one of my emotional support movies/plays I’ve seen it a million times so it only seemed fair that I give it the ACOTAR collab it deserves. 

Summary: It was the inner circles first time at the theater and from the way the Shadowsinger was blushing they all had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. (the reader plays Christine Daae in Velaris’ adaptation of The Phantom Of The Opera and Azriel falls in love with her, but he’s afraid that she won’t like him because of his scars because she choose Raoul in the play) Set between ACOWAR and AOFAS

Warnings: Angst because of Azriel’s scars, shy az, but so much fluff, (just a little Az brain rot, didn't take this too seriously)

Word Count: 3,070

It wasn’t the shadowsinger's usual scene. Bustling people dressed to the nines, plush red chairs, gold sconces, orchestras. But Cassian had been tirelessly trying to make Nesta smile, and Ferye wanted to try and get her sisters together, so here he sat in the box that Rhysand had purchased for the night. 

Nesta loved the music and dancing, Elain loved the romance, and Feyre loved the costumes and color palettes of scenes. Cassian wanted to see Nesta smile, and Rhysand would do just about anything Feyre asked of him. 

In all his 500 years of life, Azriel had never thought to go to the theater. When he was a child he heard of his parents going but of course, he never got to go. As he grew the idea of going to see a show simply never crossed his mind.

When the lights went down and the orchestra came to life he spent most of his time watching Cassian, who was watching a very intrigued Nesta. He stayed that way until a clap and a spark echoed throughout the room. At first, he thought there was danger, but as soon as he turned his attention towards the stage he saw the large chandelier raise itself to life bringing the dilapidated stage with it. Golds, reds, and vibrant colors filled the room. 

Still, Azriel had trouble following the plot. But as he watched Nesta and her sisters become entranced by the music and dancing. The loud organ had stirred something in him, but he didn’t truly feel moved until her. 

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

Azriel was sitting in a box at the edge of the theater, but even from this distance, he could tell that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.  He scooted to the edge of his seat a tad just to be that much closer to her. Her voice was that of a siren, no not a siren, an angel. His shadows danced around his ears and his wings at the sound of her ballad. Even the rest of the inner circle seemed to be entranced by her spell. 

As the play went on he found himself becoming irrationally jealous of Raoul. The pretty Viscount had not given her a second look at the beginning of the play. It wasn’t until the organ sounded again that the sound of her voice graced Azriel’s ears. The woman walked through a mirror towards a masked man. 

Who was this masked man? Where was he taking her? It wasn’t until Mor rested her hand to where he was gripping his chair with white knuckles that he remembered it was just a play. He sat back in his seat more, trying to tell his shadows to calm down. But as her voice climbed and climbed that beautiful crescendo they twisted and turned around him. 

Azriel spent the rest of the play being utterly entranced by the beautiful singer’s relationship with the Phantom. The masked man was dark and radical, staying in the shadows where no one could see him. He observed her from afar. Much like the shadowsinger did himself in every aspect of his life. 

It was clear to him that the Phantom was in love with Christine. So when Raoul and Christine kissed he nearly felt his heart shatter. The way the Phantom mourned, and cried, it felt all too personal to Azriel. 

I  gave you my music, made your way. And now how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…

  From there on out Azriel found himself rooting for the Phantom, the man he saw so much of himself in. He nearly shed a tear when he found out why the man wore a mask. A scared child in a cage made to perform. 

He looked down at his mangled hands sitting on the arms of his chair. He had known a similar childhood and had suddenly wished he had something like a mask to cover such torn flesh. Maybe then the beautiful woman on stage might look at him with that same lovesick gaze, she wore now for Raoul, but he knew that could never be.

For a moment he felt joy, seeing her kiss the Phantom with such passion, such love. Only for that joy to be extinguished like a candle when she walks out with the Viscount. Of course, she would choose him, life does imitate art after all. It wasn’t until the curtain went down and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause that Azriel broke from his trance, standing to applause with them. 

“Well that was wonderful,” Feyre beamed, linking her arm with Rhysand’s. 

“I’ll say, that girl sang like an angel,” Mor gushed, fanning herself with her program as we all made our way out of the box. “Even Azriel seemed to enjoy it,” the female smirked, bumping Azriel with her shoulder. She had seen the lovesick gaze in his eyes. 

“It was so romantic the way Raoul came to rescue her,” Elain swooned, grabbing her sister's other arm. 

“Oh please, the Phantom was the obvious choice!” Nesta huffed at her sister's comment. 

“Nesta, would you like to meet the cast? Maybe talk to some of the dancers?” Feyre asked, changing the subject quickly before conflict arose. 

Nesta thought for a moment and spoke again, “Yes I would.” all she said. 

Of course, it was an easy task for Rhys to sweet-talk his way backstage, the inner circle sticking out like a sore thumb as they weaved past props, costumes, and the ensemble. Azriel’s eyes stayed ever vigilant, unable to let go of years of training as they walked down a dark hall. A cast member opened a door at the end of the hall to reveal mirrors with glimmering faelights around them. Vanities with every manor of makeup and costume jewelry. Two men he recognized as the actors who played the Viscount and the Phantom. 

The Phantom had washed off the makeup that made his face look scarred. Once again Azriel wished he too had that ability. Rhys and Feyre shook both their hands introducing them to the whole inner circle, but Azriel paid no mind. His hazel eyes were searching for a hint of her.

“Oh y/n there’s someone who wants to meet you!” called out one of the actors. 

“Oh, really who?” called a voice so melodic Azriel just knew that she had to be an angel. 

His shadows wisped around him frantically, calling out her name in his ear, like they were excited to finally know it. Rhys and Feyre’s eyes looked to their friend and smiled at one another. 

She walked around from a changing screen, tying the strings of the robe she was wearing that looked similar to the one she had worn on stage. She nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw her High Lord and Lady staring at her. 

“My Lord, My Lady,” she bows. “It is an honor.”

“No, no, please don’t bow,” Feyre rushes over, bringing the singer upright. “If anything we should be bowing to you. You sang like a goddess out there, you are truly talented.”

“Why thank you, my Lady, I’m truly happy you enjoyed the show,” she smiled and Azriel’s heart all but glowed. 

“Please call me Feyre,” the High Lady smiles, extending her hand. 

“Y/n,” the singer replied, taking her hand and shaking it. 

Azriel kept to the sidelines as the inner circle conversed with the cast and crew. Feyre and Rhys praised the play director and claimed they would be purchasing their box for the rest of the season. Nesta picked the brains of the dancers and their instructor, Cassian listening dutifully behind her. Elain chatted up the Phantom and Raoul, both actors seemingly falling for her, once again showing how life imitates art. 

Mor talked to y/n, about what? Azriel didn’t know. But the second Mor caught Az gazing at y/n she held out a hand to him. 

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Azriel, spymaster for the night court,” Mor said, beckoning Azriel over. 

Azriel quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to scare her with his scars. He could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks tint a shade pinker as he approached, looming over her in size. 

“How do you do?” y/n asks.

It takes a second for Azriel to realize that her angelic voice is speaking to him.

“Oh um, very well thanks.” he stutters, already feeling like a fool. Gods she was even more beautiful up close, he found himself suddenly longing for the box that offered him sanctuary, or a mask like the Phantom had. 

“Did you um, enjoy the show?” she probed and Azriel realized that Mor had conveniently dismissed herself. 

“I did,” he said quickly. “You have a beautiful voice, I could’ve listened all night.” 

Once again he swore he saw y/n blush as she looked down at her feet, “Thank you, though I think I fell flat a little in the first song. Opening night and all,” she laughed nervously and oh Cauldron, the sound of her laughter was enough to make Az take one step towards her. 

“No it was perfect, all of it.” he spat out, not standing to hear her say one more bad thing about herself. 

“Well thank you Azriel,” she said and by the fucking Cauldron she smiled at him. His name fell off her perfect lips and she smiled at him. He must’ve been dead and somehow gotten to heaven, there was no other explanation. 

The rest of the inner circle watched the pair intently. Feyre sank further into Rhysand’s side as they both realized they were watching Azriel fall in love in real-time. The yin and yang of the pair was near poetic and Feyre told herself she would pain this exact moment tomorrow morning. 

“Y/n why don’t you come to dinner with us? We would love to hear more about you,” Rhysand smiled.

His words broke the trance y/n was in, “Oh my Lord I truly wish I could, but I have an early day tomorrow and my apartment is clear across town.” She apologized. 

“No worries, it sounds like we will all be back for tomorrow night's show as well. Though I would hate for you to walk home alone,” Rhys smirked trying to get Azriel to bite at the bait.

“Not to worry I make the trek all the time,” she smiled, picking up the many vases of flowers people had left for her on her vanity. 

“Azriel could walk you home, couldn’t you Az?” Mor chimed in and Azriel shot her a look. 

“Uh, yeah I could if you’d like,” Azriel mentioned stuttering over his words as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to take you from dinner with your family,” she assured him, picking up two large vases of flowers. 

“Not at all, I would be honored to walk you home,” the shadowsinger said a little too quickly. Feyre tried to stifle her laugh in Rhys’ side, she had never seen her spymaster so flustered. 

“Okay then,” the girl smiled and soon enough they were off down the cobblestone street, their way lit by dim faelight. 

y/n’s pov:

“Your shadows are incredible,” I smile watching as the dark wisps carry the various vases of flowers down the road. 

I had been more than happy to have the High Lord’s shadowsinger walk me home. In all honesty, I was captivated by the male the moment I set eyes on him. Sure he was hard, dressed in black, and over a foot taller than me. 

A sane woman might’ve kept her distance from the male, he was dangerous after all. But I knew the moment he spoke that he wasn’t a threat. There was a quiet and gentle calm underneath all that darkness.

“Thank you,” he says and I swear I see him blush. “They seem to really like you.” 

“They do? How can you tell?” I laugh as one of the little fellas brush against my cheek like a cat brushing against an ankle. 

“They went wild when you were singing tonight,�� he chuckles, seemingly remembering how they danced. 

“Really?” I ask balking a bit. 

“I’m serious, give it a try,” he smiles, motioning for me to sing again. 

I shrug and clear my throat before singing a line from the play, “Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel,” I sang softly and sure enough the little shadows danced and swirled around me. Threading themselves through my hair and around my arms where they held my vases of flowers. 

“That’s amazing,” I breathe finally watching the small wisps die down, hiding behind their master like they were shy. 

“You’re amazing,” their master spits out and then blushes. ‘

I can’t help but feel myself blush too, shying away from the hulking Illyrian. He didn’t look so tough as his shadows carried dozens of flowers behind him. He had walked down the street with his hands behind his back the whole time, not needing to lift a finger. 

The little purple door I’m so used to seeing comes into view. Outside the cottage are dozens and dozens of roses and the light inside is out. 

“I leave these here,” I say gesturing to the flowers I’m holding as I set them on the front porch. 

“Why not take them home? Were they not gifted to you?” Azriel cocks an eyebrow as his shadows place the flowers neatly next to the ones I set down. 

I laugh starting back down the path towards my place, “I get so many, I can’t possibly keep them all. Marla is an elderly woman who lost her husband years ago. It brings her joy to have them, so I leave them for her. Besides it’s not like they’re from anyone special,” I shrug, subtly dropping the hint to Azriel that I’m not otherwise engaged. 

Azriel pauses beside me and approaches a rose bush blooming near one of the cottages. Drawing his dagger, he carefully slices off a vibrant red rose. Before offering it to me, he painstakingly removes every thorn with the same blade, as if to protect my hands from even the slightest prick.

“You deserve to have at least one flower,” he says offering me the rose. 

I blush and go to reach for it when I catch sight of his hand. The mangled and marred flesh. I can’t help but feel my breath hitch as I wonder who could’ve done such a thing to such a gentle soul. The scarred hand pulls back a bit as if realizing my staring. 

“I guess I’m more Phantom than dashing Viscount,” he utters sadly, referring to my play and my role in it. My heart shatters as I see his broken expression. 

“You know,” I smile, taking the rose from his scarred hands. “I always thought that Christine should end up with The Phantom, he was clearly the better choice.” 

His head whips up as if I’ve uttered an inconceivable phrase. “Even though he had ugly scars?” Azriel inquires, his face tight like he might not want to hear whatever answer I provide.

“Who said he was ugly?” I laugh, did this beautiful specimen of a male truly believe he was ugly because his hands bore scars? 

“So you would choose the Phantom?” he cocks an eyebrow as if trying to read if I was telling the truth.

“In a heartbeat,” I affirm confidently and honestly.

He takes a step towards me, his form getting even bigger, “and what about scarred hands? Is that a deal breaker?” he probes, holding out his hands so I can see that they both harbor similar markings.  

I shake my head taking another step towards him, appreciating the beauty that is him. From the white scars that ran up his hands, to the shadows that danced around him like they they were whispering to him.

“So if I asked you to dinner after your show tomorrow?” he queries taking a step towards me as well.

“I would ask you where we are going?” I reply feeling my cheeks heat up. Was he asking me out? I tried to push the butterflies down in my stomach.

“Rita’s ?” he shrugs, stepping forward. 

“Sounds like a plan,” I smile moving towards him more, like I was compelled to.

“I’ll swing backstage after the curtain closes,” he smiles, seemingly becoming more confident in himself as we step closer together just a few feet apart.

“I’ll put your name on the list,” I say, feeling his presence pull me in. 

“And if I were to send you flowers? What kind would you like?” he interrogates further. 

I think for a moment, no one had ever asked me what flowers I might like to receive. My eyes look around as if searching for inspiration until they land on a blue siphon adorning his chest that’s right in front of me. 

“Something blue,” I blush knowing that when I see the cobalt flowers on my vanity I will know they are from him. 

“Consider it done,” he smiles and I suddenly realize that we’re mere inches apart now. 

I turn to my right where the blue door to my house beckons to be opened. Pulling out my keys I unlock it and use my shoulder to shove it open as it always gets stuck. 

“Well,” I say shyly. “Thank you for walking me home,” 

“Anytime,” he smiles looking down at his feet. 

The sight of the bashful warrior on my front doorstep has me melting. His face is so beautiful and perfectly carved I can't help but lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. I almost regret it when it’s over but the violent red of his cheeks makes me smile again.

“Well goodnight,” I say, trying not to let my words shake in the process. 

“Goodnight,” he smiles, brushing a hand against his freshly kissed cheek.

I close the door and place the single, thornless, rose he cut for me in a vase. It isn’t until I turn on a light that I hear him take off into the night and I swear I hear him let out a grand whoop from way up in those clouds.

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

[asharasasylum]

Pretty Baby I ♡  Rafe Cameron x Step/Adopted!Sister Reader

author's note: I needed to publish something and I found this saved in my drafts. It’s in 2 parts. (Part 2 in now here) It’s not really edited either and not amazing so I’m sorry about that. I do want to say the main character is inspired by Nicola Peltz character in backroads. Please really read the warnings with this one. warnings: Dark. Abuse. Violence. Child Abuse. Parental abuse. Angst. Trauma responses. Obsession from both ends. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Toxic relationship!! Aged up characters. Step-cest. Eventual Smut. Eventual character death. 18+ MDNI

He's your saviour, your knight in shining armour but he can also be your own worst enemy.

It was your tenth birthday when your father was finally arrested. 

While he deserved it, truly deserved it, you didn’t care. 

All you could do was cry as you sat at the back of Peterkin’s car, babbling about how you just wanted to see your daddy. 

It must have been a few hours later, time rolling into the late hours of the night and you were still with Peterkin. Only you had found yourself in the police station, tear stained face as you bit at the nail of your thumb. 

“Y/N.” 

You turned to look up at Peterkin to find her standing beside a man you didn’t recognise. 

“This is Ward Cameron,” Peterkin introduced you, with a small smile. 

The man tried to give you a smile but his face dropped as soon as he took you in. You hadn’t realised how bad your appearance was then, the purple marks that covered your skin were a normality you were accustomed to. 

Peterkin took Ward a few steps from you, somewhere they thought you couldn’t hear. 

“Did he- Did he do that to her?” Ward questioned. 

Peterkin just nodded. 

“But he’s her father,” Ward was in clear disbelief as he spoke, pointing at you. 

“And now she has no one.” 

That’s all Ward apparently needed to hear, throwing his jacket over your shoulders as he directed you to his car. 

He tried to make light conversation in the car, bringing up things he thought you might like, only to find him stumbling on his words each time you said you didn’t know what he was talking about. But he never stopped trying, and you think you were glad for that. 

It was the next day that you met everyone, all of them welcoming you with open arms, excluding Rafe. 

He had glared at you, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. It was almost as if he was waiting for the opportunity to crack your school open on the wall behind you. He just needed you to give him reason enough to do so. 

You didn’t know when he stopped looking at you like that but eventually a few years down the line you and Rafe were more akin than you had ever believed possible. Even if there was still that anger that bubbled underneath Rafe’s skin when he looked at you, a tinge of coldness behind those eyes. 

You were fifteen when Rafe saved you and at that age you still seemed to hate each other more than ever. 

“I can’t believe you’re forcing me to come to the wreck with you and your stupid friends,” you huffed, leaning against the car window. 

“Dad said I need to look after you while they’re out for a few days,” Rafe argued back, yanking your arm off of his window. “You’re going to get marks over my car.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, settling for resting your arms in your lap. “I’m sure he just meant to watch out for me, not drag me to everything you’re doing.” 

“It’s food at the wreck. I’m sure you’ll cope.” 

You didn’t know who you hated more at times, Rafe or his friends. The arrogance that radiated off of them at all times made you want to vomit in your mouth. You never understood why they bothered to come to this side of the island if all they wanted to do was sit and make jokes about the people that lived here. 

It was within ten minutes that you found yourself outside, walking along the boardwalk. The gentle North Carolina breeze brushed against your skin as you stared out into the bay. It was quiet, too cool outside for people to be lingering. 

That’s what you had thought until a familiar voice was calling your name. 

“Y/N… it’s you, isn’t it?” 

Your stomach dropped and as if your body was working on autopilot, you froze to the spot. 

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Precautions had been put in place to stop this from happening, restraining orders filed and prison walls to keep him locked up and away from you. Wherever Ward had needed to do, he had made sure to do it. 

But clearly it hadn’t been enough as your dad stood a few feet away from you, inching close every second. 

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, hands reaching out for you. 

He looked the exact same, the blackness around his eyes from years of addiction and the cracked lips. He sounded the same too. 

And when he took a step forward, you were ten years old all over again. 

“You can’t be here,” you finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I-I had to s-see you,” he stuttered, hand reaching forward as he got closer. 

Only now you were finally walking back. 

“Baby. It’s me.” 

“You can’t be near me,” you spoke louder this time, trying to put space between the pair of you.

But your dad was faster and without warning his hand latched around your neck, yanking your body towards him. 

“Dad, please,” you pleaded, eyes wide as you tried to pry his hands from your throat. 

“It was you that put that order against me,” he spat, grip tightening. “I knew it was you.” 

He was shaking, veins popping out the side of his head. You knew the look, it was the first thing you saw when you closed your eyes at night. But it changed slightly, he had never been this enraged before. It was like he wanted to kill you, like taking his temper out on you for years wasn’t enough. 

“It was you that called the police that day, wasn’t it?” 

You shook your head, a sob caught at the back of your throat as you told him, “No, I swear.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

“I swear it wasn’t me.” 

“I did five fucking years in that prison because of you.” 

His grip was bruising and you weren’t sure if the fact you couldn’t breathe was because of his hands on your neck or because you were choking on your own sobs. 

Your ears were ringing so loud that you didn’t hear Rafe running over to you. But you saw him when his fist flew into your father’s cheek and you watched as his foot slammed into your father’s body over and over again. 

“Don’t you ever touch her,” Rafe screamed into the man’s face, dropping to his knees as he drove his fist into your father’s face. 

Kelce and Topper eventually pried Rafe off of your father, realising that he probably wasn’t going to stop until he killed him. 

You were surprised he wasn’t already dead yet, his lifeless body covered in blood and bruises as he wheezed out a breath. 

Rafe was quick to cover your view, grabbing your face in his battered hands as he held you. 

“Are you okay?” Rafe questioned, eyes staring into yours. 

You were crying, you hadn’t realised how badly until Rafe touched your soaked cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you scream for me?” His voice was panicked, blue eyes running over you to check you were okay. 

“I’m sorry,” you broke into a fit of sobs, unsure of what else to say. 

Rafe pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly as he wrapped his arms around yours. “You don’t need to apologise. You haven’t done anything wrong, Y/N.” 

Rafe didn’t leave you alone that night and you were grateful for that. It must have been hours before you calmed down, sobs turning into sniffles as Rafe consoled you. But eventually it happened. 

“No ones ever done something like that for me,” you told Rafe, eyes finally peering up at him through wet lashes. 

“I care about you,” Rafe’s voice was gentle as he spoke, a sincerity to it that you had never heard before. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” 

You chuckled then, you hadn’t meant to because what you were thinking wasn’t really funny but you had. 

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought you hated me,” you confessed.

“I don’t hate you.” his lips lifted into a smile then. “I guess I haven’t always been the best brother.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay. You deserve better.” 

There was a sort of silence that fell over the pair of you then. One you were eager to fill, unsure how to process Rafe’s words. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.” 

It was Rafe’s gentle breaths that eased you into a sleep that night, face buried into his chest as he continued to hold you. 

That was the first night of many. 

Everytime you found yourself awoken to your own gasps of breath, it was Rafe who you sought after for comfort. You’d always be knocking on his door at odd times in the night, wet round eyes looking up at him, pleading for entrance that he was so willing to give. 

It was Ward that had to intervene, finding you in Rafe’s bed one morning. 

Then sleepovers with Rafe were switched for therapy sessions and while you were desperate to get them back, you knew that going against Ward wasn’t something either of you really wanted to do. 

So you didn’t even though you always really wanted to. 

From then on it was a thin line that you and Rafe tread along. 

One that was quickly blurring with each word that slipped past his lips. 

“It’s fucking disgusting, do you know that?” Rafe spat, storming away with your phone in his hand. “Fucking throwing yourself at my friends like a slut.” 

“He gave me his number. Not the other way round,” you shouted at him, chasing him through the greenery. 

All of Rafe’s friends were staring at you, used to the constant arguments between you and your older brother by now. But luckily you had put some space between you and them, the words that were threatening to spill from your mouth you didn’t want them to hear. 

“And you were lapping every single bit of it up,” he shouted, facing you now. 

“Is that so wrong?” You asked, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I think you seem to forget that my dating life has literally nothing to do with you.” 

You could feel the anger pouring off him, nose flared and eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you. “It’s hard not to make it my business when you embarrass me in front of all my friends.” 

“Fuck you, Rafe.” You hit your hands on his chest in a pathetic hope it would hurt him. 

He seized your arm, yanking your body towards his. 

“I hate you,” you swore, wishing the words into existence. Even though you knew they’d never come true. 

Rafe saw right through you, shaking his head as he laughed. “You hate me?” 

“I fucking hate you, Rafe. You’re awful.” 

“I guess you won’t mind if I do this then.” 

Within a second your phone was smashed to the ground, his foot following it. 

You screamed at him as he did it, fists flying at him as you kept repeating that you hated him. It’s like he didn’t even hear you, didn’t even feel you as he continued to break your phone into pieces on the ground. 

“You’re a fucking psycho,” you hissed.

He turned to you, eyes clouded with a darkness that almost frightened you. Almost. 

When his hand reached to touch you, you slapped it away. 

“Let’s go,” he demanded, stepping over your phone as he walked to the direction of the car park. 

With a tearful gaze you followed him, not even bothering to pick up your shattered phone on the way. 

There was no use fighting him, not when he was like this. It’s not like you wanted to argue against him, not here anyway. There were things you were itching to say. Things that couldn’t be said in front of the likes of the people here. In front of anyone really. 

When he shoved you into the car, those feelings bubbled up into your chest, hard to ignore when his fingers touched your skin. They dragged along the column of your chest, eyes following them as they trailed upwards, reaching to grip around your throat. 

“Do you like embarrassing me?” He said, voice low as it cut through you. 

“Do you like hurting me?” You retorted back. 

He shook his head, kissing his teeth. “Don’t…” 

He bit down on his words, hand dropping as he turned away from you. 

But you knew exactly what he was going to say. 

Because you were thinking it. 

//

Rafe had been walking on eggshells around the house all evening with you. He lurked behind corners when you were around, clearly waiting for the right moment to talk to you. 

It wasn’t till you were fighting with your late night thoughts, making your way down to the kitchen for a moment of peace, that he found you.

You felt him before you heard him, feeling his body slowly gravitating towards you. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No,” you were cold as you answered him. 

“You’re still mad at me,” he stated. 

You twisted around to look at him in the darkness of the kitchen, wanting to glare at him, to cuss him out but you struggled to find the energy to even do so. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

But he didn’t need to apologise, his words barely touching your ears when his scent was crowding your senses. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe shook his head, age turning away from you. “Stop.” 

“I don’t mean to,” you croaked, unable to take your wet gaze away from his face. 

He sighed, rubbing his jaw with his thumb as if taking a second to contemplate something. All it took was another look at you and it was as if his decision had already been made.

“Dad’s gone for the weekend,” he told you, eyes finally lifting up to yours. “He won't be back till Monday.” 

He didn’t need to ask, you both knew what he was saying and you both knew what your answer would be. You’d never said no to Rafe before. Why would tonight be any different? 

You always took the left side of Rafe’s bed. It was the closest to the door, easiest to get to in ungodly hours when you needed him. He was always accommodating, leaving the space for you free even after months of you not being there. It was second nature for both of you at this point, even when you didn’t want it to be. 

There was something oddly comforting about it. The fact that Rafe after months still slept on the same side of the bed as if he was always waiting for you to take the other side.

For years it had always just felt like a delusional fantasy. But in the last few months, especially with the way Rafe had been acting, you felt your mind starting to believe that the feelings you had could possibly be shared. 

It's all you could think about as you stared into his eyes, his fingers playing with yours. It’s all you thought about.

“Rafe,” you whispered. 

He hummed in acknowledgment, fingers sliding under the bottom of your top as he rubbed your sides. 

You couldn’t help but sigh at the subtle touch, stirring a heat inside you that was hard to ignore. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“You know,” You swallowed, struggling to get the right words out. 

There were so many things to say but how were you even supposed to say them? 

Rafe closed his eyes, hand tightening around your hip as he gripped onto it. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, it was more of a gentle squeeze, something you mistook as reassurance. 

It was hard not to lean into him, brushing your nose against his. Everything about it felt right, even if it was entirely wrong. 

“Rafe,” you breathed, your words touching his lips. 

His hand retracted from you and suddenly his words were saying things you didn’t want to hear. Things you hadn’t expected to hear. 

“Don’t,” it was quiet, hardly above a whisper as it left his lips. 

“What?” You were taken back entirely.

“You can’t stay in here if you’re going to kiss me,” he answered through clenched teeth. 

“Right.” 

But nothing about this felt right as you retreated from him. 

Had you completely misread all the signs? Had you really been feeding so much into your delusional fantasies that actually believed they could come true? 

His hand being snatched was like a final cord that snapped in you and just couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“So you don’t want me but you don’t want anyone else to have me?” You asked, sitting up on the bed. “Make it make sense.” 

“You’re my sister, Y/N. Am I not allowed to be over protective with you?” He retorted back.

“No, because it’s not just that,” your words were getting caught in your throat, desperate to come out. “You- You don’t act that way with a sister and you know that.” 

“You’re reading into things-“ 

“Fuck you, Rafe,” you hit at him, this time it had been with a force that meant to hurt. “I’m not crazy and don’t make me feel like I am.” 

Everything was rising to the service suddenly, all the feelings you had bottled up for years, threatening to drown you if you didn’t let them out. 

“You know how I feel.” Tears filled your eyes as you gazed down at him, pleading for some sort of reaction. 

“Maybe I step over the line of being inappropriate with you,” he tried to say. “And I don’t mean to do that but that doesn’t mean-“ 

“Oh my fucking god,” you almost laughed at his words.

He was spouting bullshit at you, words he probably told millions of other girls after leading them on for ages, only to drop them as if they were nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. 

But you weren’t just any girl. 

“You’re going to wake everyone up,” he hissed as if he was mad at you. 

You wanted to hurt him then. You had never wanted to hurt Rafe before, maybe get under his skin from time to time or push his buttons. But you wanted him to bleed for you like you did for him. 

“You’re sick,” you spat at him. 

His hand reached out towards you and you slapped it away. 

“I’m not some random fucking girl, Rafe,” you cried, shaking beside him. “You’re evil.” 

You couldn’t even look at him, too scared of how you might react. 

You needed to leave that room, try and save the last bit of sanity you might have left. 

It wasn’t hard when Rafe didn’t even try to pull you back in, not even saying anything to make you stay. 

“You know I didn’t want to say it before but you do remind me of him.” 

The last place you had expected to find yourself had been the cut, drinking and smoking with Sarah and her friends. But after a week of you wallowing in your own self pity, Sarah was growing incredibly worried. Most of your household was. 

You wondered if they knew what happened, especially with the way you acted in the house. It wasn’t hard to notice you were avoiding Rafe in your own home. You two were always drawn to each other, practically spending every second together in that house, to laugh, to chat, to fight. It didn’t matter how happy or upset you were, you were always found together. 

But every time he stepped into a room, you were looking to find the quickest exit. Never being in a room with him for longer than a second. 

You needed space from him as much as you possibly could get. As much as he would even allow you. 

You weren’t sure if Rafe knew where you were and there was some part in you that hoped he did, wanting him to be so angry with you in this second. You just wanted him to feel something for you, even if it came through a deep anger that had you flinching from him. 

You swallowed the rest of your drink at that, trying to forget even if it was just for a few seconds. But there was always something pulling you back in. 

This time it was Sarah, phone in hand as she grabbed your attention with a call of your name. 

“Yeah?” You asked, trying to muster a small smile. 

“It’s Rafe,” she told you, signaling to her phone. “He won’t stop calling me. He’s asking to speak to you.” 

“No,” you simply said but your face twisted into something hideous. 

You could tell in the way Sarah instantly listened to you, telling Rafe some excuse about why you wouldn’t talk to me. 

But you knew she wouldn’t drop it that easily. It’s why seconds later you found her sitting next to you, wearing a weary look as she took you in. 

“You know you can talk to me,” Sarah whispered, hand reaching out for yours. 

“I know,” you nodded. 

“Did something happen between you and Rafe?” She asked, squeezing your hand. 

You looked at her then, furrowing your brows. 

“Did he do something to you?” 

You snatched your hand from hers, eyes widening at her suggestion. 

“I see the way he looks at you,” she continued, a scowl sitting on her lips as the thought crossed her mind. “It’s sickening.” 

“He didn’t touch me,” you confessed.

How were you supposed to tell her that was the reason you were upset? Because he wouldn’t touch you. 

“Can’t I just be mad at him because he’s the biggest asshole on this whole island?” 

“You can say that again,” she agreed. “We all hate him here.” 

“I don’t hate him,” the words rolled off your tongue like second nature, always ready to defend Rafe even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“I don’t get it,” she sarcastically laughed, shaking her head. “I swear Rafe could burn this whole island to the ground, taking me and the rest of our family with it and you’d just hold his hand as he did it.” 

“That’s not true, Sarah.” Your face softened when you looked at her. “You mean everything to me.” 

“But Rafe means more, right?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s different with Rafe. You know that.” 

“But he’s a bad person.” 

“You know how he’s been there for me. When literally no one else has. You know what he’s done for me.” 

“I know that he saved you from your dad-“ 

She reached out to touch you again but this time you didn’t want to hear it, moving to walk away. But Sarah followed. 

“I know that must have been awful for you but you can’t just let him hold that over you,” her voice grew as she chased you, catching the eyes of the group. 

“I don’t let him hold that over me.” You both knew that was a lie. 

“He treats you like shit,” she screamed at you, making you finally turn her way. “He treats everyone terribly but I honestly think he treats you the worst. I don’t get it because you just let him.” 

“You don’t have to understand,” your voice was shaky as you spoke, arms crossing over your chest. “I don’t need you to understand because honestly I don’t understand it myself.” 

“He’s never going to treat you the way you want him to treat you.” Sarah looked at you defeated, arms held up as she backed away. “It’s not in Rafe’s nature to be nice.” 

You couldn’t tell your sister that you didn’t exactly want Rafe to be nice to you. 

In reality you couldn’t care if he was nice to you.

You enjoyed it when he was mean to you, bitter words cutting through you when he wanted to get under your skin. 

And sure if the only way he was going to touch you would be a bruising grip on your wrists or his hand wrapped around your throat, you’d take it. 

But you did also crave for him to be nice to you, sweet like when he soothed your cries with his fingers grazing your back. His voice gentle as he hushed you, lying beside you in his bed. 

You wanted every bit of Rafe you could get, the good and the bad. You wanted all of it for yourself. 

But that wasn’t happening anytime soon, not with his arm draped around some random girl. 

You hadn’t known why you forced yourself to come to this party, the annual bonfire was usually something you attended with Rafe by your side. It was your thing. 

The idea of booze and friendly faces, had been a nice idea earlier this morning. But as you stared around the familiar faces, you felt nothing but dread. 

Dread at the thought that this was how life was going to be. A constant numbness holding your body captive. 

“You want another one?” JJ asked, holding a can out for you. 

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking it from his hands.

“You know you don’t have to stand over here by yourself,” JJ stated, bumping his elbow with yours. “We don’t bite even if Rafe says we do.” 

Your face flushed in embarrassment at that, you didn’t want them to think you thought of them like that. There had been days when you possibly had judged them too harshly, you had never meant to, it was just easier to listen to Rafe then. 

Even though you could tell JJ meant it as a joke, your lips parted instantly wanting to defend yourself.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to reassure him. “I’m just-“ 

“I’m joking with you,” he chuckled lightly. 

Your body relaxed at that and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“You want to talk about what’s got you so down?” He asked, taking space beside you. “Or are you one of those that drinks their problems away.” 

You took another swig from your, answering his questions. 

“I see.” 

“I’m not actually much of a drinker if I’m honest,” you told him. “My- uh-” You weren’t sure why you were saying it but JJ made you feel comfortable, feeling the honesty slip from you. 

“Your dad?” The amused tone had dropped from his voice, smile faded as he took a swig from his beer. “I know the feeling, trust me.” 

“Yeah.” You forget that almost everyone knew about your situation. Rafe’s saviour moment when you were fifteen had been spread across all local newspapers. 

“But you know can’t let trauma hold you back.” He pressed the bottle to his lips with a smirk and a wink in your direction. “When in Rome.” 

You laughed at that, catching you off guard as you responded, “We’re not in rome.” 

“I know.” He shrugged, smiling along with you. 

JJ would be good for you. He seemed sweet and genuine, he understood a lot of the trauma you had gone through. You had heard enough about him through Sarah and Kiara when they were around and if he treated girls anything like how John B treated Sarah, you were sure he would be a catch. 

But as your eyes peered into his and your laughter died down, you could only think of one person. The same person who was burning holes in the back of your skull as you turned to face him. 

Rafe was still standing on his side of the bonfire but the girl that had been all over him before was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t walk over to you, didn’t say anything or motion to follow him but as feet took off, you already found yourself making an excuse. 

“I’m really sorry but I got to run,” you told JJ, trying your best to give him an apologetic glance. 

He nodded, not seeming too disappointed nor surprised at your sudden departure but there was a slight look of confusion on his face. 

You ignored it, not really caring about it as you pushed yourself to your feet. All you could think about was following Rafe’s larger steps, letting him lead you to where all the cars were parked, where no one else would be able to see you. 

His truck was in a secluded area, parked by trees that shadowed it. It wasn’t close to any walkways and it was enclosed by other surrounding cars. 

It didn’t surprise you when you were suddenly slammed to Rafe’s door, a hand wrapping around your throat to keep you held there. He always lurked in the eerie silence, waiting for a moment to pounce Rafe, especially when it came to you. But what had surprised you was how tight his grip was, finding yourself wheezing for air as you looked at him. 

“You like slutting it out for pogues, hmm?” He hissed, leaning into you. 

Even in the darkness you could see how blown out his eyes were, the light shade of blue being overpowered by black. When his grip tightened even more, you actually became frightened, eyes widening at the sight of him. 

“Like opening your legs for trash?” He spat. 

You let out a strangled breath, becoming frantic as you tore at his hand to get off. Normally that was all that it would take but today Rafe wasn’t letting up and your pleas were being ignored. 

“So angry with me that you would debase yourself like that. I mean my friends were one thing.” He shook his head, jaw clenching as tears glazed his eyes. “But fucking JJ Maybank.” 

He dropped you then, letting you collapse to the ground as he took a step away from you. 

You were gasping for breath, hand holding onto your neck in disbelief of what had just happened. 

All of a sudden Sarah’s words rang in your head and you thought maybe you didn’t want to be treated like this anymore. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

Your head twisted around at that, finding Rafe’s pacing form as you said, “You can’t look at me right now?” Tears were streaming down your face as you took a second to get up, staring at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

Rafe turned around, eyes narrowing at you. 

“You’re exactly like him-” 

“Don’t fucking start with that bullshit,” He went to argue, pointing in your face. 

“No, you are,” you laughed, finally realising. “You’re exactly like my dad. Everytime you hurt me you always have a reason to blame me. It’s always my fault.” 

Rafe smirked at that, nodding as if he was in agreement. “Yeah, it’s why you always come running back when I apologise. So eager for more.” 

Your hand connected with his face and you heard it before you felt it. Your hand stung afterwards and when Rafe began to laugh as a reaction, you immediately regretted it. 

“Is it my turn?” He questioned, a smug smirk on his lips. 

“You’re sick.” Tears were streaming down your face, painting your cheeks and chin. Yet he didn’t seem to care one bit. 

He only turned away, stepping round the truck and calling out to you. “Get in.” 

Without hesitation you did. 

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[tealvenetianmask]

Hell's Belles and who Millie is in her relationships:

Hell’s Belles is light and cute, and the reaction I saw the most was people getting all heart-eyed over Sallie Mae, and she deserved all the love. But I think the short also gives us some real insights into Millie that people tend to overlook. And I think that’s relevant with Ghostfuckers coming up, where presumably (hopefully!) we'll learn more about her internal world and her friendship with Blitz. 

So what new information did we learn about our girl?

For one thing, it's clear that Millie and Sallie Mae are very close in age and their brothers are significantly younger. 

They ran things around the farm together and hung out all the time, probably throughout their childhoods. But I also have a hunch that Millie is the oldest- it’s just a hunch- no proof.

I think it’s because Sallie is so shaken up by her absence . . .

And also because of what we know about Millie's relationship with Moxxie. During most of the M&M centric arcs, she plays a supportive or protective role, rescuing her husband when he's in danger, comforting him when he's upset, and yes, giving him a reality check when he needs it.

In Unhappy Campers, we see that Millie believes her needs (to be supported in turn and celebrated for being her fantastic self) are neglected. A lot of youtube reactors were surprised, but I think it makes perfect sense.

This is a character with "eldest daughter syndrome," which means that she was raised to take on responsibility for others. She instinctively puts herself second and rarely thinks about it, until she realizes that her own needs are being neglected.

I think that even if Millie is the second-oldest, this still stands- I think she was the caretaker sibling, the most supportive, empathetic, and self-assured one. This is a good thing. Maybe she supported Sallie Mae through her transition. Maybe she made sure that the younger kids were taken care of and that all of the work around the farm was complete. I picture her doing all of this with the enthusiasm and joy that she brings to . . . you know . . . slaughtering dozens of enemies in one go.

I think we're seeing growth in Millie with regard to prioritizing her own needs in her relationships, even if a lot of that growth is happening in the background. In Hell's Belles, she tells Sallie Mae that their relationship is a priority without taking on all of the responsibility for that relationship herself.

So . . . we don't know much about how the friendship between Millie and Blitz started, but here's what I think based on what we know about their characters individually and the interactions we've seen.

Millie is super easygoing around Blitz and pretty tolerant of his quirky *cough- super invasive* behavior. She even plays into/encourages his sillier antics pretty often, and just generally seems to trust him as a leader/friend, and he admires her work in turn.

I think there's more to it. I think she's seen Blitz in some really dark places- did they meet in their early assassin days? Like, when Blitz was right out of his relationship with Verosika and reinventing himself?

I think that from what we know about the role Millie plays in her relationships, she was probably supportive at a time when Blitz really needed someone to be. (As for how this works with the timeline of when they each met Moxxie, maybe we'll find out!)

Anyway, I'm excited for Ghostfuckers and wish it weren't so far away. I like that it looks like there'll be some focus on Millie, and I hope we see her strengths on display (because that's always great) but also see some more of her depth. I don't think it's bad at all for her to be a caretaking/supportive friend, sister, and partner. But I guess my main message is- even though those are great things about her, she's more than that, so let's not overlook this awesome lady.

[theemporium]

[REQUESTS OPEN—based off this request]

[7.3k] the five times your secret relationship with your brother’s best friend was almost exposed to him and the one time it was. 

. 

The first time your brother almost caught you and Sirius, it was a miracle he was as gullible as he was. 

Growing up with a brother like James Potter had its highs and lows. 

The highs: someone who loved you unconditionally, who was there for you regardless of your mistakes and flaws, who had your back even if the whole world was against you because that was just how he loved. 

The lows: he was an overbearing, overprotective helicopter busybody who seemed to make it his goal to make sure you didn’t have a life. Well, not really but his interference sure did make it difficult to have any sort of social life without him getting involved.

A keen example of such would be your dating life. 

Being just under a year younger than him, you didn’t enrol in Hogwarts until the following year where you were sorted into Slytherin—much to your brother’s dismay. But it seemed like a blessing in disguise when you realised it was the one way you were able to escape him and his domineering ways. Despite all his weaselling and bribing, even James Potter couldn’t get loyal spies in Slytherin. 

However, the different houses only saved you from so much and it seemed like James had made it his mission for every boy in the school vicinity to know you were off-limits. He didn’t outwardly state it—he would never do something so brash and obvious to the world that your mother would hear about it—but he would do a damn good job of showing it. 

The poor bloke who tried to give you a Valentine’s Day card in second year was the unfortunate victim, with his walk of shame to the infirmary to visit Madam Pomfrey. It only got worse the older you got. Dances and balls and Hogsmeade dates passed and James scared away any possible prospect you laid your eyes on. 

However, what James would have never expected was for it to be none other than one of his best friends to be the one to make a move on his little sister. 

And he definitely wouldn’t have expected you to go for Sirius out of the bunch. 

“Who are you and what have you done to the real Sirius Black?” you remarked with a faux scandalised look on your face as the boy tugged you, one hand intertwined with yours whilst the other moved to wave his wand at the set up he had created. 

“You should know by now that I’m a hopeless romantic, love,” Sirius grinned in response, a smile that was nothing but boyish and wild. 

You snorted. “You’re only romantic when you want something, Black.”

He looked back at you, dark eyes glimmering with pure mischief. “Maybe all I want is a day to spend with my girl.” 

You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t swoon a little at the sight in front of you. The torn piece of parchment had been tucked into one of your textbooks, found yesterday morning during your potions class. The familiar scribble and small heart signed at the bottom made it clear enough who the message was from. 

But you didn’t think Sirius’ desire to meet on a Friday evening after classes would have anything to do with a romantic picnic setup out by the lake. 

Your gaze moved over the setup: the large picnic blanket, pillows and throws spread across the surface and the basket lying in the middle with a bottle of wine (that you were sure he somehow smuggled in) popping out one side of it. 

“You like it?” he asked, though the boy sounded awfully smug like he knew you liked it.

“You’re pretty extraordinary when you try, Black,” you mused, enjoying the way he tugged you closer until your back was pressed against his chest. You leaned back into his embrace, nuzzled against him as his arms tightened around you. “Why the lake?”

“Because it’s a romantic spot.” 

You raised your brows. “And the real reason?”

You could feel his grin against your skin as he leaned down to kiss under your jaw. “Maybe I wanted to take a swim with my girl, is that such a crime?”

“I don’t have a costume with me,” you told him with a knowing sigh.

“Guess we are just gonna have to go naked, love,” he whispered, nipping your ear before guiding you towards the blanket. 

You were already making yourself comfortable on the blanket as you began to pull at the tie around your neck, unbuttoning the top buttons of your shirt and shedding the robes that had felt heavy all day. You sighed, kicking your shoes off and leaning back against the blanket as you enjoyed the soft breeze that came with the warming, spring weather. 

“M’lady,” he handed you a glass of wine, the giddiness radiating off him only infectious as you took the glass along with one of the chocolate strawberries he had laid out. 

“It feels weird,” you murmured as you took a bite, tongue darting out to catch the strawberry juices dribbling down your chin.

Sirius raised a brow. “What does?”

“Seeing you be a normal boyfriend,” you said.

He frowned. “I’m not a normal boyfriend?”

“Sirius,” you snorted and shook your head. “You snuck into my room—still as a dog, may I add—to cuddle with me because you were lonely.”

“I missed you,” he shrugged.

“We weren’t dating yet,” you added. 

“I had a shy time admitting my feelings,” he retorted, lifting his chin though you could see the hints of a smile growing on his face. “Plus, you always had a soft spot for me when I was a dog.” 

“Except when you pissed on my bag,” you grumbled.

“You kept reading, it was offensive.”

“To who?” 

“My ego, love. I was sitting next to you all day and you just kept reading,” Sirius huffed, leaning back on his elbows as he took in the sight of you. It wasn’t often you both could share moments like this, out in broad daylight—even if you were far away from the castle—just enjoying each other’s presence and nothing else to distract you. 

Sirius Black didn’t think he could ever love silence so much until he shared it with you.

“Your ego is coping just fine,” you assured him, glancing down at the boy who was already staring at you. 

“I preferred it when you’d blush and get all flustered around me,” he muttered. “Now you just bully me.” 

“It turns you on,” you remarked with a grin. 

“Nah, that’s just you, love,” he bit back. “But I do miss how cute you used to blush when you were crushing on me—”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t have a crush on you!” 

“You practically ogled me all last summer!” he barked out a laugh. 

“Maybe I was looking at Remus,” you teased. 

His eyes narrowed. “Low blow, darling.” 

“Yeah but you like me anyways,” you murmured as you leaned down to press your lips against his. One of his hands slid around your neck, keeping you in his embrace longer than you intended. 

“I’m not finished,” his voice was a little whiny when you pulled away. 

“Five minutes and then I’m all yours, Black,” you assured him as you slid your shoes back on, heading towards the wooded shrubbery. “It’s your fault you dragged me straight out here before warning me we were going somewhere with no toilets.” 

“The ice cream would’ve melted,” he pointed out, a boyish grin on his face as you shot him a look that told him you knew he placed a cooling charm on the basket. 

You shook your head. “You truly are a romantic, Sirius Black.” 

“Only for you, darling,” he grinned as he watched you disappear into the overgrown bushes and trees. 

Sirius leaned back on the blanket, hands tucked under his head as he laid there quite content to just count the passing seconds until you returned as he aimlessly hummed some muggle tune he heard during his last visit to muggle London. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear a familiar voice calling out his name for hundreds of feet in the air. 

“OI, PADS! THERE YOU FUCKING ARE!” 

It wasn’t easy to make Sirius Black feel fear, but seeing your brother descend from the sky on a broomstick with an unreadable expression on his face came pretty damn close. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you—” James paused, both feet now on the grass and his eyes now focused on the sight in front of him: Sirius sprawled on a tartan blanket with a picket basket and two wine glasses beside him. “—and clearly you’ve been preoccupied.” 

Sirius cleared his throat. “Why were you looking for me?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get in some laps before dinner,” James said, a grin breaking out on his face. “You didn’t tell me you had a date tonight.” 

“I didn’t? Must have slipped my mind,” he laughed off, waving his hand dismissively but he should have known that would not be enough for the boy.

“Who is she?” James asked, eyes glimmering in interest. “Or he? Is it that bloke from—”

“It’s none of your business, Prongs,” Sirius interrupted, knowing the seconds were ticking down until you popped out of the bushes and straight into the eyeline of your brother.

James’ eyes narrowed. “Since when have you ever not made it my business? I know more about you than I care to admit, mate.” 

“Consider this me setting boundaries now!” 

“You’re being weird,” his friend muttered with a small frown. “But fine. Be dodgy. You’ll probably tell me when you end up getting your ass bitten by the squid like the last time you tried hooking up with a girl in the lake.” 

Sirius scoffed. “That never happened!” 

“But I sure like telling people it did!” James retorted, his legs kicking off the ground and his broomstick flying through the air before Sirius could even think about standing up. 

Sirius watched as your brother’s figure disappeared as he flew beyond the castle, most likely heading towards the quidditch pitch like he said he was. But he didn’t tear his eyes away until he knew for sure James was nowhere nearby and then—only then—did he let out a shaky breath. 

“That was close.” 

His head snapped around as he watched you step out of the shrubbery, giving him a slightly strained smile as he tugged you down onto his lap. 

“You heard him?” 

“I could hear him from a mile away,” you snorted in amusement. “He’s gonna find out one day.” 

“Do you want to tell him?” Sirius asked cautiously, because truthfully speaking whatever you wanted the boy was willing to give you. 

“Not yet,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I wanna enjoy you for myself for a little while longer.” 

He grinned. “Well, how can I say no to that?” 

…

The second time James almost caught you was purely Sirius’ fault—or at least, that’s what you say. He would disagree. 

Assignments and essays were starting to pile up, and between quidditch practice and sneaking around to meet with your boyfriend, you hadn’t devoted near enough time to get your work done. That was why you had decided to spend your weekend in the library—and that was why you had given Sirius a simple rule. 

Don’t distract me. 

A simple rule. A simple, simple command. Something he should’ve been able to follow for the weekend. 

So, of course, in true Sirius Black fashion, he broke the one rule you set. 

In his defence, he lasted a lot longer than you expected. It was Sunday afternoon when he finally sauntered into the library, darting through the aisles of books and lingering students before he made his way towards the secluded table you had set yourself up on. 

“The bookworm look is kinda hot,” he remarked as he sat himself on the table, just narrowly missing the parchment you had already scribbled your herbology assignment on. 

“Watch it,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. 

There was a small moment of silence before your head snapped up, staring at the boy sitting in front of you with wide eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled, unable to help yourself from glancing around to see if any lingering students this far back in the library had spotted you both yet. 

“You know, it’s this funny little thing called missing my girlfriend—” 

“I’m serious,” you interrupted. 

Sirius couldn’t help but grin. “So am I.” 

You shot the boy a look. 

“Hey, sorry, sorry,” he murmured and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But I did miss you. I haven’t heard from you all weekend, I was worried. Just wanted to make sure my girl was alive.” 

Your face softened. “Don’t start making me swoon when I’m meant to be mad at you, Black.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Is it working?” 

“Yes,” you said with a heavy sigh. “But I really have to finish this assignment.” 

“Later,” he waved off. “We still have a week.” 

“It’s due in two days, love,” you murmured and watched the boy’s eyes widen. 

“Huh,” he muttered before he shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll pull something out of my ass in time.” 

“You stress me out,” you shook your head. 

“But you still keep me around,” Sirius mused as he began to lean down, his eyes locked on your lips and the itching urge to grab your face and kiss you was getting unbearable. It had been too long since he kissed you. 

Sirius was mere inches away from your face when a voice sounded behind you. 

“Pads?” 

Both of your heads swivelled around to find James standing there, eyebrows furrowed together and a piece of folded parchment in hand. 

“Hey,” Sirius sang, clearing his throat a little as he quickly shifted back. 

“Hey,” James repeated, looking between you and his best friend. “What’s going on here?” 

“Take a guess,” you deadpanned as you nodded towards the parchment, quills and ink pots sprawled over the large wooden table. 

His eyes moved to Sirius. “And you?”

“I was looking for Moony,” the lie slipped past his lips easily, you would’ve believed him yourself if it weren’t for the fact he had his nose brushing against yours less than a minute ago. 

“Right but Moony is doing prefect rounds with Lily,” James muttered. 

Sirius blinked. “Oh yeah! So he is. Must’ve slipped my mind. 

“And you didn’t think to use this?” 

His eyes fell to the parchment in his hand, knowing full well what it was. Sirius cleared his throat again and smiled, “I was in a rush, mate, must’ve forgot about it.” 

“Right,” James repeated, something different in his voice. 

“Can you both fuck off now? It’s bad enough I had one idiot bothering me before but I need you both,” you piped in, keeping your voice utterly bored as you spoke. Though the annoyance wasn’t totally a lie, you did really need to write your essay. 

Whatever James heard in your voice seemed to work as the boy only grinned at you. “I think we make fetching company, don’t you, Pads?”

“I agree, Prongs,” Sirius grinned as he turned to you, ruffling your hair as you tried to bat his hand away. “That’s what I was telling little Potter here. Everyone thinks Moony is the brains in the group, but it’s all a lie.” 

“Sure,” you snorted before giving him a shove so he slid off the table. “Off you shoo now, go find Moony.” 

“Hey,” James piped jokingly, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Our Moony, only we get to call him that.” 

“Remus lets me,” you retorted. 

“Whatever,” your brother grumbled before throwing his arm over Sirius’ shoulders. “We have things to do. Business to attend to.” 

“Whatever prank it is, just warn me in advance please. I don’t need permanent pink hair again.” 

Both boys just grinned. “Now where’s the fun in that, dear sister?”

…

The third time your brother almost caught you and Sirius had to be the worst situation of the lot. 

Sirius hadn’t intended to go home that weekend, it would never be a willing journey back to the one place he felt constricted and restrained and under a constant microscope of judgement. However, when he received the owl with his family’s crest on the envelope, he felt a stronger urge to open it rather than just throw it into a fire like he usually did. 

Whatever the letter contained, it was enough to convince Sirius to go home on Friday after his classes ended. 

He didn’t want to talk about it when he came back, and you didn’t want to push him when you saw just how drained and exhausted the boy was. He looked like a shell of himself, as he usually did whenever he spent more than five minutes in his mother’s presence. 

You hadn’t been able to get him alone since he came back, the boys hounding and cheering him over the last few days until he was starting to look like the Sirius you knew. 

Yet, the perfect opportunity arose on a Wednesday evening and you snatched it, because you were selfish and needy and wanted to be alone with your boyfriend after you had spent the last three days pretending to only be causally concerned. 

“Fuck,” Sirius moaned, his words vibrating and humming across your bare skin. “That feels good.” 

“Good to know you like scratches behind your ear as a dog and a human,” you mused as you dragged your fingers through his hair, nails scratching against his scaly until he was practically purring. 

The prefect bathrooms were completely empty of a Wednesday evening—information you came aware of after eavesdropping on a conversation between Remus and Lily where the latter mentioned the weekly prefect meeting would be longer this week than usual—and who were you but a Potter using the resources around you? It was practically screaming your name.

Sirius hadn’t even questioned you as you dragged him through the corridors, marauders map in hand so you could avoid Filch and any other teachers who could catch you. You had barely made it through the doors before Sirius began tugging at your clothes, eager and impatient to get them off. 

However, as bouncy and eager as the boy was, he practically melted under your touch when you sank into the hot water, scented bubbles making it easy to just sit back and close your eyes for a moment longer than you intended. It didn’t take long for him to tug you onto his lap, his arms locked around you and his head resting against your chest as lazy murmurs and hushed whispers were shared between you. 

“I am a simple wizard to please,” Sirius retorted which caused you to snort. You could feel his smile against your skin. 

“There is nothing simple about you, Sirius Black,” you murmured honestly and watched as he lifted his head, eyes clouded with an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Does that bother you?” he asked, voice thick with doubt.

“Not at all,” you answered honestly as you took his face in your hands.

His eyes softened. “You mean it?” 

“I mean it, baby,” you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. 

SLAM!

“PADS, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN, MATE?” 

It was pure instinct and fast reflexes that had Sirius’ body moving before he even processed his best friend’s voice bouncing off the walls of the prefect bathroom. And it just so happened that his instinct was to dunk your head under the water before James rounded the corner towards the baths and saw you situated on his lap.

“James!” Sirius yelled, wincing a little at the volume of his voice but the other boy didn’t even seem to blink an eye at it.

“Listen, I was thinking we could—” 

But Sirius couldn’t focus on a word his friend was saying. Not with you underneath the water, pinching at his thigh and most likely holding your breath by your own account since there wasn’t enough time to mutter a spell before your brother barged through the doors. Not when whatever James was suggesting was the last thing on his mind when he could be spending time with you. 

It was his justification for the lie that slipped past his lips. 

“Hey Prongs, did you ever find Evans? She was looking for you earlier.” 

James’ ramble came to a quick stop, his cheeks flushing a little. “She was?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded. “She said it was urgent. Something about Hogsmeade or—” 

James didn’t even bother with rambling off an excuse before he was already making his way towards the door. “I have to go! I’ll see you later, mate!” 

The second he was out of sight, Sirius tugged you above the surface as you broke through, gasping and coughing a little as you sent your boyfriend a glare. 

“Really?” you deadpanned. 

“I panicked!” he sputtered out, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m sorry, love.” 

“Next time, I’m dunking you under,” you grumbled under your breath as Sirius pulled you closer, pressing a line of kisses along your neck and jaw, all over your face until he reached your lips. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, love,” Sirius murmured against your lips. 

“I hate how hard you make it for me to be mad at you,” you sighed. 

“Ah, there’s still resistance? I guess I gotta use more convincing tactics,” the boy grinned as your cheeks flushed in response. 

Sirius made a mental note to apologise to Lily later. If he remembered. 

…

The fourth time your brother almost caught you two was pure, dumb, sheer luck that James wasn’t the first person to walk through the door. 

At this point, you were firmly under the impression the universe had it out for you and Sirius. There were far too many close calls over the weeks that had you on edge when all you wanted was to be with your boyfriend without your overbearing brother hovering around the corner. 

And the perfect opportunity seemed to fall straight in your lap when Lily dared James that he couldn’t last a weekend muggle camping. 

Of course, in true James Potter fashion, the date only grew more exaggerated and everyone began to get roped into the trip until it was a full-on getaway for the whole group. 

Which meant it was a perfect opportunity for you and Sirius to hang out freely for the weekend without fear of your brother popping out of nowhere. 

“This is nice,” you murmured, face nuzzled against his chest and eyes closed in content. 

“The silence?” 

“Being able to cuddle with you on an actual bed,” you answered, lips tugging upwards when you felt his chest shaking with his laughter. 

“Mark my words, love,” he hummed, arms squeezing around you tighter. “One day we will be able to do this every day.” 

“Every day?” you mused. “Plan on keeping me around that long?” 

“Not even gonna let you go when you’re sick of me,” he responded, his lips pressed against the top of your head. 

It had been easy to convince the group you couldn’t tag along for the weekend getaway, throwing in that you had assignments and tests and you wanted the extra time to study between quidditch practice and games. 

Sirius, on the other hand, had a little more difficulty. There was no excuse that would’ve worked for James Potter since he was a relentless, persuading little shit. So, he had to go to extremes and it was a horrible hour of pain and nausea induced from the potion that convinced James he truly was too sick to go. 

It had worn off less than ten minutes after the group left, and it had taken less than five minutes after that for Sirius to drag you up to his dorm and pull you against his chest. 

“Can we just stay like this all weekend?” you asked, words slightly muffled as you pressed your nose against the soft fabric of his shirt, his smell overwhelming you in the best way possible—pine, cigarettes and a hint of something sweet, like vanilla. 

“If you leave this bed for more than five minutes, I would consider it a failure of a perfect weekend,” he retorted and you didn’t even need to lift your head to know he was smirking. 

“Five minutes seems dramatic to—“ 

“It’s fine, James! I can grab the bag! It’s just one bag!” 

“Lily, darling, it could be—“ 

“It’s a bag of clothes, not bricks. Calm down!” 

You and Sirius stared at the door, eyes wide as the footsteps approaching got closer and you barely had a chance to even react before the door swung open. You braced yourself to see your brother on the other side, to see you both cuddled up on Sirius’ bed less than an hour since they had left. 

You braced yourself for your secret to be exposed. 

But when the door hit the wall, it wasn’t James’ shocked face you saw—it was Lily’s. 

You blinked at her. 

She blinked at the two of you. 

There was a pause as you all remained where you were, frozen in place as she took in the sight in front of her. 

“I forgot the bag, it’s only fair that I hold it, darling.” 

Lily’s lips parted. “What the—“ 

“Lils? Is everything okay?” 

Your face must’ve shown your fear because she paused before answering, eyebrows furrowed together as she mouthed a ‘what?’ at you. But it took less than five seconds of aggressive, incoherent hand gestures before you finally hissed out. 

“James doesn’t know!” 

Lily’s eyes widened as the realisation hit her too, with your brother now just down the hall and seconds away from entering the dorm room himself. She threw her hands in the air, glancing around the room before she pointed vigorously at a bundle of fabric lying on the trunk at the end of one of the other beds. 

It was a comically short time between you diving off the bed, grabbing the invisibility cloak and scrambling to throw it over your head to Lily turning on her heel, grabbing James’ face before he could even walk into the room and kissing him on the lips. 

Sirius let out a garbled noise of surprise, blinking and gaping at the sight of his two friends kissing that it completely washed away the dread he felt moments ago from almost being caught. 

When Lily eventually pulled away, she looked momentarily shocked at her own decision before clearing her throat. 

“You can get the bag,” she said in a slightly high-pitched voice, patting his chest awkwardly a few times before she slid past him and quickly rushed out the room. 

James stood there, staring blankly ahead with red cheeks and parted lips. 

“You good there, mate?” Sirius asked cautiously, trying to keep his eyes on his friend rather than the spot where you were hidden under the cloak. 

“Yeah,” James muttered airily as he moved to grab the duffel bag lying a few feet away, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly before he walked out the room, still in a daze as he did so. 

It was a solid few minutes before you finally shrugged the cloak off, looking at the doorway where Lily and James stood moments ago before turning to Sirius who looked just as shocked as you still felt. 

“So…” you murmured, letting out a heavy breath. “Lily knows.” 

“I think that’s the last thing on Lily’s mind right now,” Sirius commented. 

“I’m almost jealous I’m not gonna be on that camping trip now,” you said honestly, thinking of a million different ways you could thank your friend for helping you hide your secret. 

“I’m sure Prongs won’t shut up about it when he’s back.” 

“Merlin save us now.” 

…

The fifth time your brother almost caught you was most definitely your fault. It pained you to admit so, but the blame was firmly placed on your shoulders. 

From the second you and James picked up broomsticks at the ages of four and five, Euphemia Potter had taken it upon herself to set up boundaries so her two highly competitive kids wouldn’t fall into the habit of bad sportsmanship and petty sibling arguments. 

And in the grand scheme of things, it worked. 

No matter what, no matter the outcome or the plays or the results, you and James had a tradition after every quidditch game you played against each other to keep a strong hold on that tradition your mother set up for you when you were younger. 

Today’s game would be no different. The game would play, one team would win and then you’d meet James outside the changing rooms to hangout with ice cream and cookies and whatever sweet treats you could get your hands on. 

It had been the tradition for years, and it continued when James became Gryffindor’s star chaser and you became one of Slytherin’s best beaters.

But this game was a little different, not that your brother or anyone else in the school knew. It was different because you were more restless than usual before the game. It was different because what was usually a close game ended up with Slytherin a good hundred odd points clear with their win. It was different because the second the Slytherin changing room was empty, you had dragged Sirius inside without a single care about how risky you were being. 

You were riding the high of the victory, body buzzing with need and adrenaline and sinking your fingers into your boyfriend’s hair whilst he pressed you up against the lockers and kissed you senseless seemed like a pretty damn good way to celebrate your win. 

“I shouldn’t be this attracted to you when you just humiliated my house out there,” he muttered against your neck, his hands pulling at the quidditch leathers you wore in desperate need to feel your skin against his. “Not very loyal of me, or redeeming for my house spirit.”

“Or maybe you’re seeing that green is much better,” you teased, tugging his hair until his eyes found yours again. “I think you’d look pretty hot with my name on your back, Black.” 

“Fuck house loyalty, boyfriend brownie points are more important,” Sirius grumbled before kissing you, hands squeezing your thighs when you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Your hands were already making move of undoing the buttons of his shirt, more than ready to tear his clothes off and have him fuck you up against the lockers just like you had been fantasising about the second you saw his smug face on the Gryffindor bleachers with red and gold stripes painted on his cheeks. You wanted to make him moan and whine and whimper in the Slytherin changing rooms like you owned him (because truthfully, you did and he would have been more than happy to play along). 

But that finicky little tradition came to bite you in the ass at the worst possible time. 

Three knocks rapped against the changing room door before you heard your brother’s voice on the other side, calling out your name and asking if you were ready. 

Your eyes widened, your hands on his chest as you pushed Sirius away before muttering a string of curses under your breath. You didn’t give him a chance to even start panicking before you were shoving him into a locker, slamming the door shut and pressing your back against it before you called James in. 

“Congratulations,” James greeted, walking in with a softer smile on his face than most people were used to. “You guys killed it out there today.”

You raised your brows. “You’re not salty?” 

“Only a little,” James shrugged with a dramatic sigh. “Guess I’ll just have to thrash your ass next time.” 

You snorted. “Good luck doing that.” 

“You don’t think I will?” James questioned, that competitive spark in his chest flaring a little. And you knew because you were just the same,

“Oh I know—” 

ACHOO!

James frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he glanced around the changing rooms. “Is there someone else in here?”

You flashed him a confused look, pretending your head wasn’t beating a million miles an hour. “Hm?”

“Someone just sneezed,” James said. 

“Did they? I didn’t hear anything,” you shrugged.

His frown deepened. “It sounded like it was—”

“I think the loss is getting to your head, making you hallucinate nonsense,” you teased your older brother before you waved him off. “Let me just change out of my jersey and I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.”

His confusion was still evident on his face as he nodded, muttering a response before he glanced around the changing room one more time. He shook his head, letting out a sigh before he left the room, muttering away to himself as he did so.

When the changing room doors swung closer, you yanked the locker door open and watched your boyfriend stumble out of the small space. 

“Really?”

“I can’t control my allergies, love!”

“Do you think he bought it?” 

Sirius snorted. “With your acting skills? Probably not, sweetheart. But you better get going before he gets even more suspicious.” 

You groaned but didn’t disagree, making quick move to change out of your quidditch gear—slapping Sirius’ hands away as you did so—before you rushed out to complete the tradition with your brother like you planned. 

Sirius snuck out the Slytherin changing rooms ten minutes later, much to the amusement of the students who did spot him.

…

The one time James finally caught you and Sirius hadn’t played out the way you expected, though that was mostly due to the fact he didn’t really catch you at all. 

It was a simple miscount and muscle memory that led to your relationship with your brother’s best friend being exposed. 

The Potter Manor was not an unusual place for everyone to convene during the summer months. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter adored their children’s friends like they were an extension of their family, and they loved to have the manor bustling with rambunctious teens during the hot, summer days. It made their house feel more like a home. 

This year was no different as one by one, each of their friends arrived at the manor to enjoy blissful weeks of freedom and stress-free days before they returned to Hogwarts in the autumn. Sirius was no different, more than eager to get away from his family home and live under a roof he didn’t fear to be himself. 

And as much as he adored James and his other friends, he was eager to see you too. It had been weeks of letters and secret calls through the fireplace that had got you both through the weeks apart until he finally visited. He wanted to see his girl but it was truly the universe’s irony that the only time he would get to see you was when everyone you both cared about seemed to be living in the same house.

The first few days had been chaotic in themselves, everyone simply eager to catch up and hang out and sit out in the large garden behind the Potter Manor until the sun had firmly set and Euphemia was calling them all in.

But Sirius was itching to have you in his arms again and you were just the same. So when you had slipped him a note, a number scrawled on the paper of how many doors down your room was from his, he was eager to sneak out that night. 

The manor was silent, barely a noise sounded through the whole house when Sirius slid out of his room just minutes after two in the morning. He whispered a soft ‘lumos’ under his breath as he used his wand as a guide, making his way down the hallway with soft steps. He counted each door as he passed them, stopping short when he reached yours. 

He quickly slipped his wand into the back of his sweatpants, quietly turning the door handle and opening the door enough for him to slide inside before closing it behind him. The room was dark and even when he squinted, it was difficult to make out anything beyond the bed a few feet away from him with a trunk at the foot and a broom sprawled across the top. He noted the dresser and wardrobe on the other side of the room, but his attention was focused on the lump lying under the sheets. 

Sirius smiled to himself as he made his way towards the bed, knees pressed against the mattress as he leaned over to softly shake you. “Hey baby.” 

“Pads?” 

“James?!” 

There was a moment of silence before he heard the noise of sheets rustling and a small click before a bedside lamp was turned on, and he was met with the very confused face of his best friend staring back at him. 

“Mate, did you just call me baby?” 

“Uh,” Sirius’s lips parted as he gaped at his friend, mind reeling with the stupid mistake he had just made. “I didn’t realise this was your room, I thought it was—”

James’ eyebrows furrowed together. “Thought it was who’s?” 

“Mine!” he blurted out. 

James blinked sleepily in response, trying to string everything together. “What? Why are you acting so weird?” 

“I’m not acting weird, Prongs, you are,” the boy scoffed, clearing his throat a little before he took a few steps away from the bed. “Anyways, I’m gonna go to bed—”

“Woah, woah,” James grumbled as he pushed the sheets off his body, moving to stand up too. “You can’t sneak around, call someone baby and not tell me what the fuck is going on? Are you seeing someone in the group?” 

Sirius was silent.

James’ eyes widened in delight. “And you didn’t tell me? Dude, what the hell? Who is it? Does anyone else know? Is it Marlene? Mary? Dorcas? Fuck, is it Moony? You two always were kinda flirty—” 

Sirius remained silent.

“C’mon, Pads, you gotta tell me!” James whined, though there was an eager smile on his face. “The only other people on this floor beside me and you is Evans but there’s no way she’d go for you, and—”

Sirius flashed a sheepish smile.

“Sirius,” James said in a low voice. “Who’s room were you sneaking into?” 

“Mate—”

“THAT’S MY LITTLE SISTER, SIRIUS!” 

Sirius winced a little, the words getting stuck in his throat as he extended his hands out towards his friend. But James didn’t give him a chance to explain himself before he pinched Sirius by his ear, dragging him out the room to the one next over and barged inside without even bothering to knock.

You shot up from the bed, your lips parting when you saw your brother burst through the door with Sirius by his side. 

“James—”

“Really? My best friend? You’re trying to steal my best friend from me?” James exclaimed, not a single care in the world at the fact it was three in the morning. 

You let out a shaky laugh. “That is not the case—” 

“And you!” James continued, turning to look at his friend who was trying to soothe his pinched earlobe with a small frown. “How could you, mate! My little sister! You know she isn’t allowed to date until she’s thirty-two!” 

You scoffed. “Nobody agreed to that rule.”

“I did!” James retorted, his voice a little high pitched as he glanced between you both. “Merlin, I can’t believe this betrayal.” 

“James—” you started but the boy didn’t let you continue. 

“A betrayal I say!” 

You rolled your eyes, fingertips pressed against your temple as your brother continued to theatrically throw his arms in the air, truly living up to his name as the most dramatic Potter sibling.

“And I thought he was bad when Mum told him she was making Shepherd's pie instead of Sunday roast last week,” you grumbled to yourself, shoving your duvet off before you slid off the bed and moved closer to both boys. “Jamie, it’s really not that big of a deal—”

“He’s Sirius Black!” James spluttered like that was a solid enough reason. 

“Yeah, and I love her, mate!” Sirius yelled back. 

There was a pause as both Potter siblings stared at the boy with very different expressions, making Sirius squirm a little under the intense focus. 

“You love her?”

“You love me?”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius cleared his throat, his hand scratching the nape of his neck nervously. “This wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to say it, y’know?”

Your eyes softened, pressing your lips to hold back the grin that wanted to spread over your face. “I love you too, baby.” 

“Bleh,” James gagged. “I don’t know if this is cute or disgusting.” There was a pause. “Yeah, no, definitely disgusting.” 

“Shut up,” you grumbled and reached over to whack his arm. “Lily thinks we’re cute.” 

“EVANS KNOWS?!” 

“What in the bloody hell is going on in here?” A voice sounded from the doorway, three heads turning around to see Euphemia Potter standing there in her dressing gown and slippers, hands on her hips. “It’s three in the morning, why aren’t any of you asleep?” 

“They are trying to sleep together!” James blurted out as he pointed between you and Sirius. 

“James!”

“Prongs!”

Euphemia glanced between the three of you, looking unamused. “Yes, honey, that’s what tends to happen when you’re in a relationship.” 

James blinked. “You knew too?”

“Your father and I had our suspicions,” Euphemia stated with a shrug, though there was a knowing smile on her lips. “I won the bet. Your father thought your sister would have gone for Remus. He clearly never saw the way Sirius looked at her, even when you were all younger.” 

Sirius’ cheeks burned but he didn’t deny it. 

“I–” James started again but his mother shot him a look.

“Let your sister live, James,” she said in a pointed tone. “I am sure your sister knows how to be safe and use a contraceptive spell–”

“Mum!” you blanched, arms wrapped around yourself in hopes you could curl into your own body to avoid the embarrassment of the situation. 

“Oh stop being such a prude!” Euphemia waved you off before nodding her head towards her eldest. “Leave them alone, you can wail about it in the morning at a more reasonable hour.” 

“But—”

“Bed, James. Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said and watched as the boy shuffled out the room, heading back towards his room. She then turned to look at you and Sirius, a warm smile on her face. “Whilst I am happy for you both, I don’t want grandchildren just yet.”

Sirius coughed to cover his laugh. “Of course not, ma’am.” 

“Don’t be silly, Sirius, you’re a part of the family more so than before now,” Euphemia grinned as she reached for the door handle, ready to close the door behind her. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t shatter you if you hurt my little girl.” 

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Sirius admitted with a nod. 

“Goodnight. Don’t be too loud, you may scar your brother.”

“Mum!” you huffed, listening to her laugh cheerily as she headed back down the hallway towards her own room. You then turned to Sirius who was already looking at you, something unreadable on his face. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?” 

“You really love me back?” he asked in a soft voice, his hands finding your waist like magnets. 

“Of course I do,” you answered with a smile, one hand pressed over his racing heart and the other cupping his face. “You’ve weasled your way into my heart, Black.” 

“I intend to stay there for a while,” he told you.

“Good. You can start by being the big spoon.” 

Sirius snorted. “Always, love.”

. 

[osaemu]

KAMISATO AYATO: BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

.ೃ࿐ modern!au: you run into your ex-best friend's brother after a long time

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns. ayaka's a little ooc. this was supposed to be 800 words but ended at over a thousand..

author's note: comm'd by @/kruinka, thanks for the trade!!

"shit, i'm so sorry—"

you look up sheepishly at the man in front of you, wincing when you see the dark, coffee-scented stain on his crisp white shirt. your face burns in embarrassment as you trip over your words, coming to a halt when you see his face.

a name registers in your brain, but you don't actually connect it to him until he clears his throat and starts to speak. "ah, don't worry about it. i have a lot of these shirts," he says awkwardly. 

kamisato ayato.

your ex-best friend's older brother.

ayato tilts his head, soft blue eyes surveying the brown liquid dripping down his chest before looking at you. thankfully, there's no sign of recognition in his face as he offers you a comforting smile. "really, there's no need to look that horrified. you're fine."

"i'm so sorry," you mumble, setting the half-empty coffee cup on a table nearby before snatching a couple napkins and stiffly handing them to ayato. "i should go."

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and start turning around before he calls "wait," essentially forcing you to stay back. ayato studies your flustered expression intently, and unfortunately, luck doesn't seem to be on your side today.

"you're my sister's friend, right?" he asks, looking down at you thoughtfully. you bite the inside of your cheek and force yourself to shrug. it'd be rude to leave now, especially since ayato's made that connection between you and his sister.

he dabs one of the napkins on his shirt, but it only makes the brown spread from his shirt to the cuff of his sleeve. you curse profusely in your head, but common courtesy forces you to take another napkin and help him out.

"so," ayato continues, "what did that mean?"

you pause, looking up at him with a confused look on your face. ayato smiles ruefully and clarifies, "why'd you shrug?"

shit.

"oh," you say nonchalantly, busying yourself with folding another napkin and soaking the coffee from his shirt into it. "nothing."

"really," ayato deadpans, slipping his hands into his pocket. "am i supposed to believe that?"

"really!" you insist, pressing the napkin into his chest a little harder than you meant to.

the truth was that it wasn't nothing — in fact, far from it. you and ayaka had a pretty bad falling out, and worst of all, it was over him. 

just under a year ago, you had offhandedly told another friend that you sort-of liked ayaka's brother (even though he was older than you by a couple years). it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but of course, word got around that you found you had a crush on your best friend's brother. naturally, ayaka was pissed, but in your eyes, it wasn't a big deal and it wasn't even a real crush.

but rumors change stories, and what once was said to be a crush was now viewed as true love. people told ayaka that you wanted to marry her brother, and as word got around more and more, the stories just kept getting worse.

you never did find out if ayato heard the rumors. maybe ayaka told him, or maybe she didn't see the need to bother her big brother with matters as trivial as you.

"it doesn't look like it was nothing," ayato presses, a soft lilt of amusement coating his words. "tell me, pretty please? i'd love to get some dirt on my little sister."

ayato grins, widening his eyes playfully as he begs you to tell him. "c'mon, you just ruined my shirt. the least you can do is tell me what happened between you and my sister."

you shake your head, and ayato groans stubbornly. "you owe me," he tries, but you still don't reply. "please? it can't be that bad."

"oh, it's bad," you say dryly, flicking two soiled napkins into a nearby trash can. "i wouldn't want to ruin your opinion of me this soon."

ayato scoffs, removing his hand from his pocket and grabbing your chin. a little hm? escapes from your lips, and it makes ayato laugh. he eyes you pleadingly, and although you know enough about him to know that this is all just a means to an end, your heart still skips a beat at the way his cool fingers grasp at your skin.

"what are you—"

"tell me," he breathes, cutting you off as he leans in teasingly. ayato knows exactly what he's doing, and the way he sees it, there's no reason why he can't make his sister's friend (or not) blush just a little. it's cute, really, the way your breath catches in your throat. and maybe the way he can practically see the gears turning in your head makes him smile.

"ayato," a familiar voice calls from the coffee shop doorway. "what's taking you so lo— what is going on?!"

you stumble back from ayato, eyes widening in surprise at the all too familiar voice of your ex-best friend. ayaka pauses for a second, surveying the scene before narrowing her ice-blue eyes at you. 

"so, ayato," she says, resting both of her hands on her hips. ayaka turns to her brother and glares at him. "wanna explain why you're flirting with her?"

ayato laughs and gestures at the coffee-colored stain on his shirt before turning to you and offering an apologetic smile. "looks like i'm the one who should get going. we should do this again sometime."

he waves bye, and you nod in response. ayaka gives you a suspicious look before looping her arm in her brother's and sweeping him away. they gradually fade into the distance, and you eventually leave.

a couple hours later, you recieve a text.

hey it's ayato, got your number from ayaka

you wanna treat me to boba tmrw? then you can tell me everything ;)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Nothing Comes Close to the Golden Coast

Description: You're on the beach because it's what your little sister wanted for her bachelorette party. One day, you can manage, right? You're not expecting to stumble right into the woman who could can change your outlook on beaches that day. But with Natasha Trace, maybe you're starting to see nothing comes close to the golden coast.

Warnings: Female! Reader, Flirting, Beaches, Mild Cursing, Natasha is too flirty for words and possibly a little dangerous

A/N: Hiya lovelies! This is a fic I wrote for @bellaireland1981 's 1K Pool Party celebration. Congratulations on 1K followers Bella! It's my first time writing a long form Phoenix x Reader fic and I hope I did Nix justice. All my love to @horseshoegirl for beta-ing this fic for me and making sure I wasn't 1) using too many commas (yes I have a problem) and 2) that this fic was flirty and fun and summery enough!

Word Count: 3617

Cross-posted to AO3 here!

Cross-posted to Wattpad here!

You like going to the beach as much as any other girl. But unlike other girls, you tend to prefer quiet, calm, clear beaches to lie on. The kind of beach where you can hear the tide coming in and the seagulls wheeling in the clear summer sky. The kind of beach where the sand is clear, and you never have to fight to find a spot to lay down your towel and where you can read without a beach ball smashing into your face. Of course, finding the clear beaches you love is far from easy. It seems like the minute the calendar hits Memorial Day, everyone in the Greater San Diego area books it to the beach for the summer. You’ve even seen people taking meetings out on the beach. But to put it bluntly, you're not one of those people.

So why are you out on this congested, loud beach today? There's only one reason: your baby sister's Bachelorette party. It was an obligation you couldn’t get out of. You love your sister, but you’re less than happy to be spending time with her and her friends. When it’s just the two of you, it feels like you’re the closest pair of siblings on the planet. But when she’s with her friends, it feels like there is a colossal, ever-widening, yawning gulf between you. Everyone calls her the pretty one while you're the practical one. In the eyes of your entire extended family, it is one of the many reasons why she's getting married at 22 when you're still single at 28. To keep the peace, you’ve been pasting a smile on your face and literally grinning and bearing it for everything she’s asked of you. Because you love her and in only a week’s time you can get a bit of a break from her (or really, from her best friend).

To make matters worse, you’re the only girl in the group wearing a one-piece suit, something flattering yet mostly covered, without showing off your cleavage or too much of your ass.

“God, do you have to wear that old lady suit?” She'd scoffed when you walked out of your house that morning, a sunhat on your head and a sarong tied around your waist to complement the deep maroon one-piece you’d pulled out to wear. “Please tell me you have a bikini you can go wear instead. If you'd told me, I would have brought you one of mine!”

As if you'd have ever worn a bikini of hers. Your younger sister is thin, model thin, with a narrow waist and perfectly perky A-cups, which look fantastic in the hot pink bikini she's wearing today. She's got the physique that makes men look a little stupid. Already, there is a pack of unfairly pretty men who have gone a little cross-eyed when your sister and her friends walked by. In contrast, you're shorter and curvier, your hair dark where hers is blonde, and the ultimate introvert to her bubbly extrovert.

You aren't even her maid of honor at her wedding - that particular honor belongs to her best friend - yes, the aforementioned obnoxious Sally herself. It's not as if anyone has even noticed you're not having the time of your life in the water. After all, why would they? Who wants the babysitter hanging around you when you're trying to have fun? It's the role you've been playing since your sister was born, and you're sure you'll play it again once your sister has kids. For now, all you can do is stay secluded under your umbrella and try to read a little despite the noise. At least it is a little emptier on the beach now as the sun sinks slowly across the sky.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The voice is male, filled with all the surety of a man who knows what he wants and has never failed to get it. Your eyes are rolling before your head rises from your book. Your sister and Sally are under the umbrella next to you, and unsurprisingly, that comment was targeted at the two of them. You're pretty sure they are two of the group who were tossing around not one but two footballs on the beach.

“Two pretty things like you look like you could use a drink.”

It's the blonde, tall with green eyes, and a shit-eating grin, who makes the offer. And to your disbelief, it looks like your sister is going to take these guys up on their offer.

“We'd love to!”

Is she thinking at all? Before you can stop yourself, you're speaking.

“Can I talk to you, Vicky?”

“The fuck do you need to talk to her for?”

Sally's growling at you, her arms crossed under her chest in a way that accentuates the cleavage already threatening to break free of her string bikini. Your cheeks flush as the two men glance between you and her, discerning gazes flip-flopping between you and her at heated words.

“You're her sister, not the fucking morality police. We're having drinks with them. Either you can join us, or you can glare disapprovingly. But don't you dare tell us what we can and cannot do.”

“You're such a fucking stick in the mud. I don’t get why the hell you came with us. Why are you always coming out with us, anyway? I mean, I’d have had a life by the time I was your age, but well, I guess you're even too boring for that.”

You're left gaping at Sally and your sister as they walk away. The words don't hurt, not really. You've been hearing a version of them for years, ever since Sally and Vicky decided they didn't like having you shadow them. Of course, they don't believe you when you say you'd rather do anything other than join them while they get up to all the bullshit they do. Once upon a time, Vicky used to defend you. Obviously, those days are long gone.

It doesn't mean you won't still watch out for your sister, though. Call it some sort of sickening nostalgia for the days when you and her were close once, chasing each other around playing unicorns in your backyard. Call it affection for the little girl who used to follow along behind you, repeating everything you said with a lisp. Call it love for your sister who you would once do anything for - would still do anything for.

Of course, you immediately realize the situation is far different than you thought it would be. Because there aren't just two incredibly hot men, but ten. Before you can blink, they're all over Vicky, Sally and their other friends. Somebody has sparked up a bonfire, and you gravitate to the hot flames despite yourself. You're a little chilled after being out in the hot sun all day. As the sun sets over the sea, one of them nestles a Bluetooth speaker into the sand and turns the music up. 

California Gurls, we're unforgettable,

Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top

Whoever made this playlist needs better taste in music. Or at least they need to pick something which you haven't heard on the radio every day of the summer in 2010. As it is, it will be stuck in your head for days.

“This song sucks, huh?”

You jump at the voice near your ear, stumbling and nearly face-planting in the sand. You have the kind of face which shows your emotions plainly, you've always been told so. Now someone has noticed, and you hope this person won’t throw you under the bus like all of Vicky’s friends. You pretend it’s just the song as you turn around with a smile pasted across your face.

“It's the worst!”

You're sure you have other things to say, but they disappear from your head like smoke when you see the woman who is talking to you. She's gorgeous, whiskey eyes flickering gold with the bonfire's flames. She's absolutely beautiful, and it feels a little like you're in an alternate universe. There's a cool breeze coming off the water, and in addition to the salt from the sea, you can smell hibiscus in the air. It has to be from her perfume, you note vacantly.

There's humor in her eyes as she stands beside you, surveying the others around the bonfire just like you are. You can see your sister in the distance, dancing with the blonde who asked if she wanted a drink. She looks like she’s well on her way to becoming completely drunk, but you don’t care. Vicky’s an adult. She made her own decisions, and she can stand by them. All of your attention is on the brunette in front of you. She holds out a bottle to you, condensation dripping over her fingers.

“I thought you could use a drink.”

“Thanks.”

The drink in question is a bottle of soda, ice cold.

“I, uhh…” She looks a little sheepish, some of her confidence draining away as you look inquiringly at her. “I wasn’t sure how else to get you to talk to me.”

“W-why wouldn’t I talk to you?” 

She grins ruefully, “Because you've been glaring at Bagman and your friends since you walked over here?”

“And, you don't look like you're having much fun.”

“Fun…” You sigh, "is a word for it. And we're not friends.”

“Younger sister?”

You laugh, “Is it that obvious?”

“You're a good sister, coming out with her and her friends like this.” 

Her innocent words touch your heart a little bit.

“I've got two just like her. They're so sure they're grown up, but they could still need somebody to watch out for them.”

You turn excitedly, “Yes! Yes. That’s it! She's getting married next week, but there's still so much she doesn’t know yet! And she and her best friend hate that I'm here. Call it her need to be seen and treated like an adult. I'm in her bridal party and she doesn’t even want to celebrate with me. Guess everybody would pick Bagman over there over me.”

“I don't hate that you're here, you know?”

You startle a little at the frank openness of this beautiful stranger's voice.

“Why not? You don't know a single thing about me.”

“I know you’re a big sister. I know you hate Katy Perry’s California Gurls, not because the song itself is horrible, but because you’ve probably heard it a million times.”

She tugs at your hand, and you follow her as she leads you away from the bonfire, the song still blaring away. You shouldn’t follow her, you know you shouldn’t. But despite yourself,you’re curious. There’s something about her you need to know more of. Away from the bonfire, the air is cool, and crisp. The beach feels swept clean the further you walk.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this.” 

You crack open the soda and take a sip, pretending not to feel dark eyes on the side of your face.

“I didn’t plan it.” She chuckles a little, playing with your fingers. “All I wanted was to keep talking. I think I owe you a few more things I know about you, anyways.”

Your heart warms as she shrugs out of the hoodie and lays it over the sand. She sprawls down with a grace you couldn't emulate if you tried, all long, lean muscles exuding strength and power. You feel awkward in contrast, self-conscious as you try to sit on as much of the hoodie as you can without sprawling in her lap in a way that would have you mortified and her uncomfortable. But you can still feel her, warm and solid, as she retakes your hand. It’s comforting, the light touch, the calluses at her fingertips making goosebumps rise over your arms. Her perfume smells different this close, the light scent of summer hibiscus melting into roses and morning dew. It’s addicting.

“Y-you mentioned there were a couple more things you knew about me?” 

The words leave you in a whisper, tripping over each other as they drop off your tongue.

Her laugh is husky and warm, and for one moment, all you want is for her to make that wondrous sound again. But you quell that particular impulse. After all, no matter how weak you are for this woman, you barely know her. You won't be making a fool of yourself tonight.

“I think you're smart, smarter than anyone gives you credit for being. You're strong and single-minded.” She leans in conspiratorially, a smirk on her lips. “Some people would call you stubborn, but I think they're just afraid you'll leave them behind in your quest for world domination.”

“How do you know I'm gunning for world domination?” You're smiling from ear-to-ear as you ask the question.

“All the prettiest girls are. Especially the girls who bring a book to the beach for family when they'd probably rather be curled up on a window seat with a cup of tea handy.”

Your cheeks have to be crimson by now. Of all the days for an unfairly pretty woman to come up to you and flirt, she has to pick today. She’s so confident, so pretty and vivacious and all the things you never could be. In comparison, you just feel dull, like a piece of fabric bleached by the sun, until there are only the faintest hints of color left. It’s also been a really long time since anyone’s even looked twice at you.

“I-I do like reading at a window seat while it rains.” Your smile is halfway genuine now, you think. You can’t keep volunteering bits of information about yourself without getting some info from her in turn.

“What do you like doing in your spare time?”

Maybe you picked the wrong question to ask because her easy smile drops faster than you can blink. The small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes flatten out, and the dimples are so deep you’ve been wanting to kiss them since you saw them disappear as her smile does. The silence between you isn’t comfortable anymore. It’s awkward, a discordantly awkward tone spoiling the harmony of the moments before.

“I don’t have much spare time. Or hobbies.”

“I’m sorry.”

You’re babbling before the apology has left your lips, mind speeding at a hundred miles per hour at the thought you’ve somehow managed to insult the one person who’s wanted to talk to you all night. You’re standing and turning to head back to the bonfire before she hops up next to you.

“Whoa, whoa.” Her hands are hot as they make contact with your upper arms. “I’m not angry at you. I dunno if you heard what those meatheads were saying when they were posturing to your sister and her friends earlier, but I’m a Naval Aviator.”

“It doesn’t leave a lot of time for hobbies.”

“So, what do you do with your free time?” 

She’s so close you can feel the heat of her skin.

“Most of my free time is spent at the gym. It takes hard work to look this good.” 

You giggle a little as she tugs your hands until they’re flat against her toned stomach. The muscles twitch under your fingers a little, and you feel light-headed. Is she really flirting with you? You? 

“Not everyone can read books and look as good as you do.”

“What else do you do?” Your voice is weak, barely audible over the rushing waves, but she hears you anyway.

“Sleep. Try to read. Though it’s harder to concentrate when you’re surrounded by hundreds of lonely, horny men than when you’re sitting in a window seat.”

She smirks a little, leaning closer then. 

“And I definitely spend a lot of time daydreaming about a pretty bookworm in my bed to keep me warm at night.”

“O-oh.”

Your face has to be crimson by now. It feels so hot. The dark ocean seems way too alluring, if only for a cold reality check. There’s no way this gorgeous, smart, sexy woman is hitting on you. There’s no way. Maybe if you keep saying it over and over, it will be a reality instead of what your delusional mind is coming up with.

“Sadly, there hasn’t been a pretty bookworm in my bed in a while.” 

The smile on her face falls, the motes of color swirling in her hypnotic eyes, fracturing into crystals at the words. 

“None of them can take the long days away, no dates, little contact. Maybe one day I’ll find the right bookworm for me. Unless…”

Her arm has found its way around your shoulders, the warm lines of her body searing into you.

“Well, this is a silly question, but would you maybe like to grab a coffee sometime? Get to know each other better?”

You want to say yes. More than anything you want to. But you can’t bring yourself to accept her invitation, not when you have more questions than answers.

“W-why me?”

Her lips are warm even through the material of your half-damp swimsuit as she presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re different from the other girls I talk to.” 

You’re unsure how to respond, half afraid she will go on and on about how boring and dull you are. All of the others you’ve dated certainly have. They expect one of the standard sexy-librarian types when they meet you and find out you like to read. They’re always disappointed when the truth they come to see couldn’t be any further from what they imagine. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she sighs. “I swear I nearly got hit on the head with one of the footballs when I saw you walk out onto the beach and sit under your umbrella.”

“You missed it, I'm sure, but those goofballs in my squadron were laughing at me for hours.” 

There's a slight pink tinge to her cheeks as she leans back. You miss her the minute you lose her warmth.

“I um…” She runs a hand, long-fingered and pretty (why the hell are even her hands so pretty), through her hair. “I'm pretty sure that's why those two walked up to your sister and her friend.”

“They wanted me to come to the bonfire tonight?”

You're pretty sure your mouth is wide open at this point. 

“Yeah. Though I should say, I wanted an excuse to talk to the prettiest woman I've ever seen. And maybe flirt with her a little. And maybe get her to agree to go out with me.”

“How is this clever plan of yours working for you?” 

Your voice is a whisper again as you peer over your shoulder at her. 

“You don’t know my name. You don't even know if you're my type.” 

It takes every bit of courage to banter lightly with her.

“I think it's going pretty well. After all, I've got you sitting here with me instead of out there with those idiots. And I'd very much like your name.”

You smile despite yourself as you tell her your name, getting hers in turn: Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix. Her callsign fits her fierce and confident personality.

“So what do you say about getting coffee with me sometime?”

Just before you're about to respond, you hear your name called from the bonfire. It's one of Vicky's friends calling for you and pointing at your sister. She's drunk, and you can tell she's minutes away from courting an indecent exposure charge. She's sitting on Bagman's lap and doing her best to eat his face right off. He seems like a more than willing participant. Your concerns have more to do with how her bikini is moving, how she’s only moments away from an indecent exposure charge.

“Fuck.” 

You turn to Natasha and smile. “I'm really sorry, but I have to…”

You make a vague gesture in your sister's direction.

“I understand. She needs you right now.”

You nod and begin to walk away, pulling your coverup out of your bag. But your feet don't let you move very far. What kind of person would you be if you let the best thing that's ever happened to you slip through your fingers so easily? You can't let her slip away. So you rummage in your bag for one of the notebooks you always carry with you and scrawl your phone number down on it, ripping the page away.

She looks surprised to see you again when you catapult yourself into her arms and kiss her soft lips. She tastes like the beer she was drinking earlier, and as her arms wrap around your waist, you sink into the kiss a little bit more. You feel like you never want to leave. Yet you know the longer you stay here kissing Natasha, the more time your sister has to make situations worse. Her friends may be cheering her on, but her fiancé won't be quite so magnanimous.

When you pull away, her cheeks are the same pink as earlier. Her lips are kiss-swollen, and her eyes are bright. You're sure yours are the same.

“Let's get that coffee, Natasha.”

You press the paper into her hands and hurry back up to the beach to take care of your sister. In the hilarity of pulling her away from Bagman and wrestling her into your coverup, you can feel eyes on you. They track you until you drive away.

There's a text on your phone when you get home.

Let's get that coffee tomorrow morning. Do you know Madison's Cafe? I'd very much like to kiss you again.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[beegomess]

Dark Paradise | Theodore Nott

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01. Invisible Flirts

The music was loud, and there was a lot of noise from some students around Matthew, who was trying to down an entire bottle of Firewhisky. Pansy and Y/N had drinks in hand when they threw themselves onto the dark couch next to Draco and Blaise.

Draco and Zabini were sharing a joint when the blond offered it to the sister sitting next to Pansy.

— You’re a terrible brother, you know that? — Y/N had a smile as she reached out to take it between her fingers and took a drag.

— Imagine if our father saw you now? — Everyone burst into laughter; Draco and Blaise couldn’t stop laughing, considering their eyes were already extremely red.

— What are you guys laughing so much about? — Nott approached and sat in an armchair in front of his friends.

— You missed the big joke Draco told about what it would be like if your father saw them now. — Pansy said, emphasizing that it wasn’t really funny, just that they were very high. — Where have you been anyway? I haven’t seen you all night. — Parkinson hinted.

— Around. — Nott answered simply and noticed the attention he was getting from Y/N’s eyes while she took another drag of her cigarette. Theodore didn’t look away from Y/N, which would normally make her look away from him, but in her current state, embarrassment was not an issue. However, both their faces were expressionless, revealing nothing about each other.

Y/N only looked away when she saw Astoria Greengrass, a year younger than Daphne, making out with Adrian Pucey in the middle of the party. Daphne walked past the two and made a face of disgust, making Pansy and Y/N laugh. Pansy glanced to see that Theodore still hadn’t looked away from Y/N.

— What’s her plan this time? — Pansy asked Daphne, who was sitting on the coffee table between the sofas, turning her back to Theodore.

— According to her, the plan is to hook up with someone from Draco’s social circle and get closer to Y/N. — Daphne rolled her eyes as she spoke, and everyone began to pay attention, letting out small laughs.

— Is she really getting close to me just out of interest? — Y/N put her right hand on her chest, pretending to be offended by the revelation.

— Yes, but she always talks about how she thinks you’re pretty and that she wanted to be friends with you too. — Daphne said with irony, somewhat coldly as she laughed at her sister.

— Oh Merlin, she thinks like she’s five years old. — Theodore added, drawing everyone’s attention to him quickly.

— Well, I’m sure you didn’t mention that Pucey was once one of the lucky ones Y/N got physically involved with. — Pansy said, expecting a response from Daphne.

— Believe me, I did. — Y/N looked incredulous. — That’s why he was the chosen one for the night. — The three girls burst into laughter.

— Good to know you’re passing along things about my private life. — Y/N said playfully, as she didn’t really mind the situation.

However, Theodore, who was paying more attention to the conversation, just drank his drink, without laughing or reacting to it. He was only thinking about how Y/N managed to silence Adrian so he wouldn’t spread to everyone that he was with the most popular and desired girl at Hogwarts.

[...]

At breakfast, all the friends had a clear expression of exhaustion from the previous night. It was certainly not a good idea to have parties before a day of classes.

— Good morning. — Astoria approached the group cheerfully but didn’t receive the same enthusiasm.

— Shh, no need to shout, Greengrass. — Blaise had his eyes squinted due to the light in the Great Hall. He was exaggerating; the girl spoke normally, but he seemed too sensitive.

— Sorry. — She shrugged. — I just thought I’d invite you to go dress shopping tomorrow for the winter ball next week. — Y/N, Pansy, and Daphne exchanged glances, remembering the girl's plan to get closer to them, even though she already had friends in her year. — Adrian invited me yesterday to go with him, and I accepted.

— Now, if he remembers that, that’s another thing. — Matthew, who was next to Y/N, spoke quietly and laughed. He immediately received an elbow from Y/N.

— Ouch!

— Sorry, but my mother already sent me a dress for the ball. — Y/N said gently.

— Oh, and who are you going with? — The girl seemed to no longer care about the description. Everyone in the hall fell silent, waiting for Draco’s sister’s answer. Y/N felt the pressure; she knew that if she said she was going alone, her week would be full of boys chasing her, and under the pressure of the moment, she needed to think quickly.

— I’m going with Theodore, aren’t I, Theodore? — Her answer echoing throughout the hall made the eyes widen. Nott looked up, somewhat surprised, until she nudged his leg from under the table, making him clear his throat with the contact.

— Yes... Yes, we’re going together. — All the friends looked at them in confusion. Draco had his eyebrows furrowed; they had never been close, and now they were going to the ball together?

— Enough with the interrogation! — Daphne said, giving her sister a fierce look. — Don’t you have a class now?

Everyone continued with breakfast after the younger Greengrass left. Pansy wouldn’t have the next class with Y/N but made a mental note to ask her about this news. She wondered if something was going on between them; she wouldn’t be surprised. Y/N always knew how to hide her affairs very well.

Y/N, however, tried to sit next to Theodore in Potions class, but when she arrived, there was already a Hufflepuff sitting next to him. Y/N mentally cursed herself for not hurrying at breakfast. Theodore was very handsome and never lacked options for girls, and now, close to the ball, all of them were throwing themselves at him, even though they had heard minutes ago about him being Y/N Malfoy’s date.

The girl sat at the table behind him and decided to pass him a folded note while everyone began taking notes from the board.

"Thanks for this morning; if I told the truth, I wouldn’t be at peace this week. I hope I haven’t ruined any of your invitations to other girls; in fact, I’ll see someone else to go with me today, I promise."

Theodore took the note and smiled slightly as he read, the girl next to him seemed to try to stretch to read his reply.

"Don’t worry, I didn’t have anyone in mind to bring either. We can go together if you want..."

Y/N took the folded piece of parchment from her side of the table and smiled as well at the reply.

"Although I don’t believe that Theodore Nott, so acclaimed among the girls, doesn’t have any prospects, I accept to go with you."

And again, the few words made him smile, responding with one last thing.

"I’m pleased to know about my fame among you."

Y/N laughed at the response, drawing attention in the silent room.

— Am I interrupting something, Miss Malfoy? — Snape looked coldly at her, making her immediately stop smiling.

— Oh, no. Sorry, professor. — And then, quickly, he went back to teaching.

Throughout the rest of the day, Y/N felt strange. His gaze was still extremely indecipherable to her, but it attracted her more and more. In recent months, their glances seemed to have increased in frequency. Sometimes, they would catch each other looking. Y/N felt Nott observing her while she read in the common room late at night. It was her ritual to always read a bit when the common room was empty; she liked to enjoy the silence, but when Theodore noticed the habit, he started to "accidentally" find her there day after day.

"If I didn’t know you, I’d say you were following me." Y/N said, smiling at him one night. Theodore could say it was the first time he felt truly nervous around a girl, but he maintained his composure and just smiled, staying there in silence while watching her hands turn the pages.

— And what’s this about you going to the ball with Nott? — Pansy asked, putting on a pair of socks before getting into bed.

— Good point, Pans. — Daphne turned from the vanity where she was applying products to her face. — So, Y/N?

— It was just to throw off the other boys. — She said without taking her eyes off the book.

— So, you’re not really going with him? — Pansy insisted.

— I am; we’re short on dates and decided to leave it that way. — Y/N continued scanning the words on the page.

— You and Nott? Short on dates for a ball? — Y/N nodded, pretending indifference. — Hmm, right, I see. — Pansy said with a mischievous smile, hinting at something that Y/N chose to ignore, as Parkinson often did this just by talking to another boy.

_______________________________

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨ next chapter>>>

[gojou-violin]

oh, little brother~

family ties collab with @killsaki

| pairing: younger!brother!meguru bachira x fem!reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. dead dove, do not eat. incest. dub-con. virginity loss. corruption kink go brrrrrrr. slight manipulation. cum eating. blowjob. vaginal fingering. vaginal penetration. feeding cum. guys. guys. it's really perverted..... listen...... i-

| wc: 5.9k

| taglist: @aylitgirl , @sailewhoremoon , @justanotherpasserby-blog , @lyteatus , @bakugosgorl , @unknownspecies , @bleuboyfriend , @theyluvizzy , @drakensdarling , @itoshis-after-dark , @alekstraszas , @mimic-of-hysy , @garden-variety-skeleton , @daddyisyourmommy , @dragon-chica , @princesssofiyuh , @skiagrafia , @pr0dkang , @erenslver , @nemjun

| a/n: if i hear one person complaining about this when the warnings are very clear............. also. if i have to make this obvious....... bachira is aged up to be over 18. 'k, cool.

Some people were so adorable that you could just eat ‘em up. You take one look at them, see how small and precious they are, how lost they can seem, how they clearly need someone to guide them through every small part of life because all they know how to do is sit there and look pretty. Most people got jealous if they saw someone like that, but not you. No, no. The cute and innocent ones were those that you could scoop up to hide in your pocket, and that made you content. Patting them on the head, telling them they’re doing great. Taking their hand to lead them. Watching their faces turn a bright red color whenever they’d get embarrassed of themselves because of something you’d say or do just to get them riled up. Fuck… How perfect the innocent could be.

For the longest time, though, you had to ignore that heartstring-tugging urge whenever you were around one person specifically. It was a shame, relly. Out of all the blushy and small ones you’d seen, he was by far the most ravishable. But no one would understand. No one. Perhaps not even him. You had to observe from afar while pushing the envelope a bit here and there just to test the waters for reactions out of him; Like how he’d panic and blush whenever you’d compliment him for passing an exam with flying colors. Your favorite bone to throw him was whenever he’d do so well in a soccer match, you’d hug him tight— Despite how sweaty he’d be— and praise him to Hell and back for being the best striker in the whole world. He always melted in your arms. That was the highest praise he could ever receive from the person who’d always looked after him and loved him. Whenever he’d smile up at you, thanking you for the compliments, you were always on the verge of breaking, of snatching him up and stealing him away, but he’d always end it with, “Big Sis,” and reality crept back in. Observe from afar. No matter what.

Meguru had been in love with soccer since the day he was born. In fact, you could vividly remember how your parents bought him toy soccer balls even as a baby. As you two grew up, he’d beg you to kick the ball around with him in the backyard— A task that originally started off as a nuisance, but as you got older, you began to enjoy it more because you got to spend quality time with your brother outside of talking about school and complaining about your parents. In high school, though, he took soccer so seriously that it became his entire life. He’d wake up early to train, go to school, train between classes, train after school, eat, train, sleep, repeat. He hardly had any time for you anymore. His own sister! Who could believe that! But, fine, if that was what he wanted, you could support him, because that was what siblings did.

In college, things slowed down for him. He played soccer for the team at university that gave him a full-ride scholarship so he hardly had to worry about his studies. You continued to watch from afar. Again, cheering him on at each of his games, praising him for passing the exams he studied for (or didn’t— you’d never admit it to your parents). In between all of that, though, Meguru spent his time with you. Whenever you would get lunch together, he’d pick at his food while reflecting on how he could still get better at soccer even after all these years; or he would stare at you so… longingly… whenever you would be talking about your own courses and how they were getting harder now that you were close to graduating. You always told him to appreciate how easy the first year could be.

But it was those looks that made your heart tug. His eyes could get so big, his pupils dilated so much that you felt like you could read his thoughts that were screaming: “How magnificent you are, Big Sis.” And how you hated that. How wicked he was for teasing you while you could never have him… It could have been so easy for you to lure him in with the praises and leading if he had been anyone else in the world, but with Meguru, you had to be careful. His big eyes were a trap. His red cheeks were akin to the voice of a siren.

“Are you okay?” he asked you suddenly.

You snapped out of your trance to look up at him. “Y-yeah—”

Meguru had just finished another match that you attended and he won. After celebrating with his teammates for about an hour on the field, everyone dispersed to do their own things, which usually meant the two of you would go out to get food. Your sudden and interrupted trip down memory lane had been triggered by Meguru coming out of his bedroom, slowly struggling to pull his shirt over his head while trying to avoid his wet hair since he had just showered; and you had gotten caught up in staring at his abs and V-line that was quite revealing due to his low-hanging sweatpants. His midriff made you freeze up. The shirt he was wearing must have been about an inch or two short, because even as he was reaching up to tie his hair out of his face, you could still see his flat stomach…

He smiled oh-so-innocently at you. “Where to, then?”

“I…”

Usually you had your act together. Observe from a distance, remember? Never be too obvious. Don’t let anyone ever assume that you were staring at your younger brother who was now kneeling down by your feet to tie his shoes.

He was right there. Within reach.

That innocent look. The lost puppy who needed to be told where to go and what to do. The fact that he’d tease you with how he dressed and behaved around you.

Be careful. Don’t be stupid.

“Megu… Why don’t you change into something else before we go out?”

He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Well it’s a bit cold for something so…”

Every bit of reason you had left went flying out the window the second he started rolling the waistband of his sweatpants so that they could hang even lower on his hips without him dripping on the bottom hems.

You grabbed his hands to stop him from going any further, yanking him towards you so that he stumbled forward, falling onto your lap, his shirt riding up, his face buried in your shoulder. He yelped as it happened. It was all so sudden, the way you went from the kind and caring big sister you’d always been, to someone acting all on instincts that had been building up for far too long. He tried to push himself up by supporting his hands on your knees, but you caught him by the wrists again to keep him right there on your lap, his face daringly close to yours so that you could see every bit of confusion and panic in his big eyes.

You giggled at him. “Oh, little brother…” you cooed sweetly. “What to do with you.”

He blushed under your intense stare.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?”

That confidence you knew you had in you instantly returned to you once you knew you had the upper hand once he could no longer tease you. If only he knew the consequences of playing with your emotions like that… Someone so innocent should have never been pushing his pants that low while wearing a shirt one size too small.

“Were you hoping to catch someone’s attention at lunch?”

He tried to push off again, yet you held steady.

“Some other college girl you have in mind, Megu?”

“No…”

“No? Then why’re you showing off so much?”

Observe from afar. Don’t let anyone know.

Your cold palm slid over his abdomen, working down, down, down as you felt his muscles contact until you were resting right over the waistband of his sweatpants. Meguru relaxed a bit on your lap as he anticipated your next move. You tsked your tongue while gently scratching his stomach with your nails. He squirmed.

“You don’t feel embarrassed when dressing like this in front of your own sister?”

In the most adorable way imaginable, he actually mewled and wiggled around to get you to touch him more— Your own brother! Begging you so pathetically to do more. Perhaps you should have expected him to be so needy and responsive when you knew for a fact that he’d never dated anyone, or even made out. Despite being the star soccer player in both high school and college, he always ignored the girls that fawned over him, then he had the audacity to always complain to you about how lonely he was and how he was certain no girl would ever want him as much as he wanted them. You assumed he was just incredibly picky. Never in a million years would you have guessed that he just needed someone to teach him what to do. You could have taught him everything he needed to know if he would have told you sooner! Talking to girls, flirting with them, asking them out… Making out with them… Fucking them…

“What is it, Megu?” you teased, payback for his post-shower display.

As he maneuvered on your lap to sit on you completely so that he was comfortable with his back pressed against your chest, you couldn’t help but drift over his crotch— It was an accident, of course. You hadn’t meant to go so far after years of promising to not go so far; but he’d done it. Maybe it was on purpose. Maybe he didn’t know better. Whatever the case was, it happened, and you could suddenly feel just how hard your little brother was in his sweatpants.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

You swooned mentally.

Every bit of what you loved about the small and cute type was right in your hands, quite literally falling onto your lap. The opportunity was too good to give up or go back now. Pushing off the little voice in the back of your mind, you finally slipped your hand under his waistband.

“Need to warm up my hands somewhere, Megu, I’m sorry.”

He turned to hide his face in the crook of your neck. Whether it was to hide his shame or excitement, you honestly couldn’t be sure, yet that didn’t deter you from using your thumb to swipe over his tip to get a feel for what you were working with. What had your little brother been hiding from you all this time? Pre-cum was already dribbling onto his pubic bone, coating your thumb. Poor thing needed someone to get him off so badly. You couldn’t give in so easily, though, not when this delicacy was something that would likely only ever happen once, and if he was too uneducated or inexperienced, he could be easily spooked off your lap and out of the room. You had to keep luring him in the same way you would with any of the other lost puppies you came across. So you pulled your hand back out and brought your thumb to his lips.

“Taste yourself, Megu.”

He looked up at you warily, his big eyes pouting.

“Look, it’s not that bad.” You licked your thumb while staring at him, your heart skipping a beat. “You taste good.”

He watched as you slid back down to gather more pre-cum from inside of his pants, not even touching his erection this time. So pathetically needy. And as you came back up, he willingly opened his mouth for you, sticking his tongue out and everything.

“Look at me while you do it.”

Those eyes of his fell in love with you the second your thumb made contact with his tongue. You could felt how slick and gentle he was with it, how he first wanted to try it before leaning in all the way, wrapping his warm lips around your thumb entirely, all while still staring right at you like you told him to.

With a pop, you pulled your thumb out of his mouth, catching him off guard fast enough to lean down and in to kiss him. He sat on your lap, unsure of what to do. You knew that if he regretted it, he would have pushed you off again and run off— He had the strength for it from soccer— but instead he waited, trying to see what you were doing and how you were doing it. So you taught him. Without a single word, you kissed him harder, hoping that he’d catch the hint and kiss you back. It took another second for him to get the hang of it, understanding that all it took was leaning into you while trying to kiss back the best he could. He wasn’t good at it by any means, but it was his first time, and you appreciated his eagerness to try and learn with you.

“You’d never lie to me, right, Megu?”

“Never,” he insisted.

“You’ve never been with anyone, right?”

For as much as you two talked, maybe there was a secret hiding in there that your younger brother never felt comfortable sharing with you; but now that you were doing something that you’d have to share as a secret for the rest of your lives, so of course he could fess up if he needed to. However, Meguru shook his head. It was true, what you’d always known about him, that he was so oblivious to everything you’d been thinking, otherwise he would have caught onto the other girls who all thought the same things about him. Your little brother. A virgin. You were even his first kiss. You wanted more. How could you stop there? You were already knee-deep in trouble, anyhow…

“Are you scared?” you asked calmly.

He nodded. “We shouldn’t do this.”

Your touch left him, despite his pitiful complaint via another whimper. “You can leave, Megu, I’m not gonna stop you.” For a moment, you hesitated to see if he’d actually take you up on the offer, until you were content with how he stayed glued to his seat on your lap. You grinned. “Or you can stay with Big Sis,” you whispered in his ear, “and I can teach you anything you want to know.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention when you began to kiss his jawline, hands grabbing his hips, your feet squeezing between his so that you could hook his legs around yours, forcing him to spread open for you.

“Is that something you’d be interested in, Megu?”

Your hand drifted over his erection, your palm grinding back and forth to create some fiction for him. Much to your surprise, he turned slightly to face you before attempting to kiss you sloppily. Your own little brother, trying his absolute best to now impress you, someone who took much pride in how much experience you had in ruining sweet things like Meguru.

“Tell me what you want,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pulled away. Those dark eyes bore into your soul as he told you, deadpan, “Everything.”

Your grip on his hips tightened. “Careful what you wish for.”

Despite how fit he was because of soccer, Meguru had always been small enough for you to pick up whenever you were teasing him— And while you couldn’t get far with him anymore, you could get exactly where you needed to go: Right back to his bedroom. A few stumbling steps with him in your arms, you managed to make it, quickly “tossing” him, for lack of a better term, onto the bed.

He scrambled onto the mattress, almost like he was creating a cautious distance between the two of you. Was he scared now? The door was right there, wide open, anyone could walk in on you at any moment if they had a spare key, or if they knew where the extra was hidden outside of his apartment. It would be so embarrassing for him to run out if he wanted while hard because of his big sister. It would be even worse if someone did happen to catch the two of you. Part of you liked the exhilarating feeling that gave you the courage to climb onto the bed; Meanwhile the other part of you was warning you to be careful. The neighbors knew you two were home together because they congratulated Meguru on his win when you ran into them in the hallway. If they heard anything suspicious, they’d surely know immediately what you two were up to. But you wished so desperately to ruin your little brother. You could imagine what the next few minutes could potentially look like based on your past experiences. Him whining your name while on the verge of tears was up there on your wishlist. Seeing him get red with embarrassment while he would be cumming because of you was another dream.

Without a word, you slid between Meguru’s legs, leaning down to kiss him while cradling the sides of his head to hold him steady. Your pelvis grinded up against his. Still as hard as he’d been out in the living room where he’d been teasing you. Did he do it on purpose? You were certain that he must have been. Did he expect that things would go this far? Was he hoping that you had the balls to finally leap at him? Was he playing with fire all because he liked the attention and knew that you’d never do anything to him, your little brother? If that was what he thought, the poor thing was in for the shock of his life.

“It didn’t take much to get you hard for me, Megu.”

His breath hitched against your lips as your hand crept between your bodies and you found his dripping tip again. “S-stop.”

“Stop?”

He shook his head. “No, don’t stop— Fuck— Just— D-do something…”

You laughed at how distressed he was and all you’d done is touch him a few times here and there. You wondered if he would stay like this forever or if his firsts would change him as a person, giving him the confidence you carried with you. Fuck, you hoped that he would never change. If he stayed like this forever, melting under you, begging you to touch him, you knew that you could live the rest of your life happily, because even if nothing ever happened again, at least you could feel victorious in having been your little brother’s first.

Without much convincing, you easily pushed his low-riding pants down to his knees, allowing his erection to spring free, finally giving you confirmation of what you had always known about your sweet little brother who was oh-so-picky about his women. One day, he’d make someone very happy with what he had to offer… Very, very happy. He just had to learn how to use it all first.

“Like this, Megu?”

As you took his length in your right hand, his back arched. He hissed at the feeling, his toes curling, hands grabbing desperately at his sheets. You slowly pumped your hand from base to tip.

“Breathe.”

He let out a heavy sigh while forcing his body to relax.

“Tell me what you want to learn.”

“Everythin—”

“Tell me very specifically.”

Meguru tried to hide humiliation by grabbing a pillow and putting it over his face. A muffled moan left him as your fist did another slow pump along his length.

“Tell me, Megu.”

Through the pillow, he croaked, “Stop it… I don’t— I don’t know— I—”

“Oh, sweet thing,” you cooed.

Virgins were the cutest things in the entire world.

“How about this?”

You shifted downwards until you could start pushing his shirt up to his collarbone with your free hand, kissing his bare skin as it was exposed inch by inch. His abs tightened to the point you saw the clearest definition you’d ever seen from them— Not even soccer pulled this reaction out of him.

“Tell me, how does it feel?”

“Cold,” he quietly replied.

“Cold?” you questioned. “What about this?”

You lowered yourself entirely, wrapping your lips around his cock.

The pillow flew off his face in an instant as Meguru jolted up, his hands quickly finding their way to your hair for him to grab onto something, and he bucked upwards, fucking your mouth so suddenly, you let our a surprised moan. He moaned in response to the vibrations rolling through his body through the most sensitive part of him.

“Fuck, sis—”

You melted when he called you that. All this time, whenever he called you “Big Sis,” you got sad because it was a reminder that he was always out of your reach as a forbidden fruit, yet now he was moaning about it just for you, the only person in the entire world who could really relish the way he said it.

You pulled off to ask, “Still cold, or—”

But his grip on your hair tugged down, which forced you to take him back in your mouth, going as far down as you could before he tapped the back of your throat. You tried to push off, and while he gave you a little wiggle room, he didn’t let you escape him all the way. You got the hint. With you gaze following up his abs and to his own big eyes, you continued to suck him off the best you could. You worked your tongue around him, licking up his pre-cum, all while thinking about how he was so perverted enough to actually be convinced into trying it himself… What else would he do if you asked? How far would he go just for you? He was a quick learner when trying to kiss you, perhaps he’d be a quick learner for other things, too.

Meguru’s breathing picked up into a short-winded pant that let you know that only after a few seconds of having a warm touch on him was enough to get him towards the edge. It wasn’t like you were unfamiliar with that kind of reaction. So many of the cute ones couldn’t hold themselves back. They were usually selfish with you, though, refusing to admit that they were close out of fear that you would stop before they’d get to soar on Cloud Nine; but not your little brother. He was sweet enough to warn you— Maybe it was worry about cumming too soon, or maybe he was scared that he was cumming because his older sister was getting him off, or maybe he wasn’t scared at all. Maybe he wanted it.

“Shhh…” you cooed while hovering over him again, your hand on him to replace your mouth. You kissed him gently before moving to his neck. “Deep breaths, little brother.”

He moaned like an angel that fell from Heaven.

“There’s still more to learn.”

With curious eyes, Meguru silently questioned your next move as you quickly kicked off your shorts before grabbing his left hand.

“I made you feel good, didn’t I?”

He nodded urgently.

“Don’t you wanna make me feel good, too?” you asked with a pout.

“Y-yes— Anything— I’ll do anything—”

It was like he was drunk on lust. Blinded by seduction from a woman. Wholeheartedly in love with you just for touching him. It took so little to get your little brother wrapped around your finger, and now that you had him compliant to do anything, as he said, then you could move to use him for your own selfish gain, which was all you’d ever wanted from him since you first started observing from a distance. So you stuck two of his fingers out before holding him by the wrist to angle him at your entrance. His eyes widened. It was like he never expected it to feel like that— Wet and warm. You drifted his fingers along your slit until he found your clit.

“Feel that?” you asked him. He nodded. “Whenever you want to make a girl feel good, just play with this…” You started moving his hand so that his fingers flicked your clit back and forth, meanwhile your other hand continued to play with the top of his cock. “Try it yourself.” You released him.

Meguru couldn’t help himself any longer. That monster that always lingered inside of him whenever he played soccer suddenly leapt out to convince him to flip you over onto your back, tearing your hands away from his body so that he could inch down to see everything he was working with. His fingers played with your entrance a bit, as that was where he was familiar with as his starting point. He dipped in slightly. As you moaned, he glanced up at you with worried eyes, but once he realized that it wasn’t a painful moan, he grinned and pushed two of his fingers into you.

“So tight,” he noted to himself. “Does it always feel like this?”

You gulped. “It depends on the person.”

Meguru was invested in discovering all the possibilities imaginable, so he curled his fingers inside of you. He twisted his hand until he found your sensitive spot, forcing you to moan again. An evil smirk took over his face.

“And this…” He used his other hand to search for your clit, but he was struggling, so you decided to help him. He sighed at the feeling of it. “This makes you feel good?” His index finger drifted over your clit the same way you’d been playing with the tip of his cock. He really was a quick learner. “Is that right, Big Sis?”

“Faster—”

He didn’t hesitate to heed your command. The two fingers buried inside of you worked faster and harder to fuck you and curl against your g-spot that he magnificently found all on his own; and his index finger circled your clit at a pace you were so unfamiliar with. Most boys you’d been with didn’t understand how much work needed to go into fingering a girl, yet somehow Meguru knew.

He leaned down to stare at you as you fell apart under him. “I’m not oblivious, Big Sis. I’ve watched porn religiously forever… I had the general concepts down, just never had the opportunity to explore…” He smiled as you tightened around him. “I thought you’ve let every man you’ve laid eyes on fuck you. How can you still be this tight? Hmmm?”

How could your little brother be mocking you! Surely he had more respect for his older sister than that—

“If I make you cum, what will you do for me?” he asked. “Will you suck me off again? Will you teach me about eating you out? Will you teach me how to get better at kissing? What will you do, huh?”

It was your turn to reply with, “Anything!”

“I get it now,” he whispered teasingly, “why you like having someone whining and wiggling under you. It’s hot… Doesn’t matter who it is…”

You had to assert your dominance again. Meguru was getting too cocky for someone who barely knew how to find the clit, you had to knock him down a peg, reminding him that this was all happening because he pushed you too far with the teasing. This wasn’t happening because he asked. It was happening because you wanted to ruin him, not the other way around. So you propped yourself up on your elbows, kissed him, then whispered back that if he made his older sister cum, you’d make him see stars. And somehow that did the trick. With a bunny-like tap to his foot, he set to making you cum quickly. He kissed your neck, attacked your g-spot relentlessly, and added another finger to your clit for more pressure and speed. Soccer always taught him how to be a good team player while still outshining the rest of the team as their captain and lead striker— You could see that the monster in his eyes was bringing that same energy to making you cum. The goal was ahead. The trail had been set. All he needed to do was send you over the edge.

“Fuck— Right there, Megu—”

As you came around his fingers, your fingers found his hair, grabbing onto what you could while it was still tied back into a small ponytail. He sighed happily at the image of you. Glowing and shaking because of him.

“Like that?” he asked, unsure of himself.

You nodded as you caught your breath. “Like that.”

Meguru’s fingers slowly retreated from you. For a moment, you stared at each other in bewilderment, but the monster in him had something to say, which compelled him to hold his wet fingers up to your mouth. 

“Look at me while you do it.”

So you obeyed. Carefully taking his fingers into your mouth, you sucked on them the same way you had sucked his cock— Your tongue swirled, your cheeks hollowed, you swallowed.

“M-My turn…”

Meguru took his fingers out of your mouth so that he could collect more of your wetness for him to taste. Spit mixed with your cum melted on his tongue. He moaned. Your sweet, innocent brother was turning into a pervert, all because of you. You weren’t sure if you should have been proud or disgusted.

“We should probably stop…” your voice of reason came out.

He furrowed his brows at you. “But you made a promise.”

“Megu…”

“Just the tip,” he begged. “Please… I wanna know what it feels like…” He grabbed your hip with his left hand and wrapped his right hand around his erection. “Just the tip, I promise.”

“Megu—”

He let out another obscene moan as his tip made contact with your dripping entrance. “Fuck.”

“Megu, we shouldn’t.”

For a moment, he hesitated, staring down at you, his eyes pouting to the point you nearly grabbed him by the hair just to throw him onto his back and ravish him— But that damn voice of reason was causing you to rethink everything. It was a shame. If you hadn’t been knocked into seeing some sense, you would have broken him completely…

“Do you think I’m a weirdo, sis?”

Your face dropped. Growing up, that had been his biggest fear: People considering him to be “weird.” He hated the idea of being ostracized simply for who he was, so he always found safe haven with you, his big sister who would never turn your back on him or consider him to be odd. Your brother was your brother. He was perfect. The bullies he faced as a kid were little shits who ruined how Meguru would see himself for the rest of his life; but you were set in showing him that he was amazing.

You pulled him down by the hair to kiss you. “You’re perfect.”

Both of you moaned when he excitedly rolled his hips.

“Just the tip, little brother, okay?”

With an eager nod, Meguru very carefully pushed in— Just the tip. He forced himself to stop short once he felt the slight pop through your entrance; and for a minute, he relished the feeling.

His arms buckled weakly, his body too overwhelmed to keep himself propped up above you anymore, so he fell to his elbows, pushing his cock into you a bit more. You hissed and pushed at his chest. Just the tip! Any more than that and you surely would be the weirdo siblings that fucked each other.

“Feels so good,” he whimpered in your ear. “Please.”

“Megu, don’t—”

But he didn’t hear you. Or maybe he didn’t want to listen. His hips pulled back to where his tip was barely in you again, and for a split second you thought that he would comply, but right after he’d tricked you into believing it was over, his hips fell down on you completely, every inch of him sliding in so easily. You pulled on his hair as you moaned his name.

“Harder,” he begged you.

Reason could go to Hell. You pulled harder at his hair to earn a groan and a swerve of his hips.

“So tight!”

You pulled harder. “Go faster. Pull out, then push back in. Go as fast as you can.”

With Meguru’s face buried in the crook of your neck, he pulled back before thrusting back in, discovering the type of rhythm he could gain with his hips before he could figure out what speed he was capable of. He played with how he could move around. Could he move his hips this way? Absolutely. What about this? Do it again! And what if he played with your clit while he did it? You cried out his name again.

The egoist in him came out.

A boost in his confidence that he was only ever seen carrying with him on the field, suddenly was over you. He did what he pleased with you. He fucked you fast and hard with no regards for the noises you two were making. It came to a point that neither of you cared if the neighbors heard because Meguru’s sweet moans in your ear was enough to claw at his back as you tipped over the edge.

“Pull out,” you begged him as you came, worried that he’d go too far.

Meguru whimpered. “Hold on.” 

He overstimulated your clit without knowing it, all while he chased after his orgasm. He was right there. You could tell. The way he was breathlessly panting through every moan, how his hips were losing their rhythm. You grabbed onto his ponytail. The touch itself made him cry out your name, but as you pulled on the strands gently, he was finally there— With every bit of self-restraint he had left, Meguru pushed himself up, pulled out, and came on your stomach, jerking himself off so that he could ride his entire high out. You kissed him as he did it. You wanted him to savor the feeling, to remember what it was like getting to lose his virginity to his sister— So you kissed him hard, letting him test how he could force his tongue into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he croaked.

You pet his hair gently to make up for all the rough pulling. So your sweet, innocent brother liked it when you hurt him a bit… You blushed. How cute.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Meguru slumped, rolling onto his side until he was laying beside you.

You wrapped your leg over his waist to pull him close. “You did so good, Megu.”

In response to the praise, he turned such a bright shade of red, you thought he was about to explode.

“That was…” He sighed heavily.

You swiped your index finger through the cum on your stomach, collecting as much as you could, before bringing it up to his lips again, waiting to see if he’d initiate anything or just stare curiously at you again. To your elation, he gave in. Meguru stopped second guessing everything that had just happened so that he could suck on your finger. He lapped his tongue around it like you had done to his cock— He really was learning— and he swallowed so easily.

You laughed and fed him more. “Oh, little brother… I’m gonna have so much fun with you…”

[suckerforlovesblog]

Pretty little thing

Pretty litte thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to gr Pretty little thing

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 3: The wedding

Summary: Y/N officially becomes Mrs. Shelby.

Chapter Warning: language, drug abuse, unprotected sex, p in v, non consensual, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, choking, praising, body fluids, cockwarming

Word count: 3.2k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy , @tommyshelbywhore , @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay98 @cherrysugarx ~

End of August 1926

Thomas wanted the wedding to be perfect, the dress, the ceremony and the dinner afterwards. The latter was of course a business move and the invited people where carefully chosen.

After the engagement party the contact between Mr. Shelby and his fiancé was rare because he was occupied with business. But he did make it a pattern of visiting her every Sunday. They went riding, to a Derby, to London to visit his sister Ada and he usually took her to any public event he was attending. On the outside he wanted them to look like they’re very happy and in love with each other. Thomas made clear how he wanted his future wife to behave and any time a border was crossed, Y/N soon deeply regretted it because he had a dark side. And this side Y/N was really scared of. His eyes would turn black and he would usually push her into a wall, his hand around her delicate neck, threatening to do bad things to her or even worse her parents. Otherwise he never laid a hand on her and he deeply enjoyed seeing her scared. Thomas also really liked her apologies: On her knees with an open mouth, looking up at him through her lashes, his hands in her hair.

Y/N was a quick learner. She soon realized that Thomas’ temper was uncontrollable and unpredictable because it would change within seconds. Anyways she was on his arm, always smiled nicely and only spoke when being talked to. She also never had the guts to confront him about his behavior but really hoped it would change, as soon as they got married and he let some feelings in.

Leading up to the event which he sat the date for on the 25th of August, they spent less time together which Y/N wasn’t all to sad about. Thomas did come by to give her the engagement ring, a small golden band with pearl on top made to be followed up by a wedding ring. He also sent her flowers every week.

On the other hand she got to spend some time with his sister Ada and his aunt Polly. Y/N also came to the betting shop to meet the rest of his family for a so-called family meeting: Thomas’ brother Arthur was there with his wife Linda, Ada and Polly were there, as well as her son Michael Gray, Thomas’ younger brother Finn, his uncle Charlie and Curly, who Y/N really liked, as well as Jeremiah and his son Isaiah, Johnny Dogs and Thomas’ secretary Lizzie, who didn’t seem to like Y/N very much.

Thomas led her into his office afterwards, taking her hand ins his and pressing a kiss to her temple which confused Y/N. Confusion was the state of mind she was in the most: Thomas could be very sweet on one hand and extremely gruesome on the other. He offered her a seat and a whiskey, which she gladly accepted while he took out his cigarette case, taking one out and putting it between his lips in Thomas Shelby manner, pushing it around and then settling it on the left side of his face. The conversation was short but Thomas only explained some small details to her and then told her the date he set for the wedding. He afterwards followed her out of his office and to his car, his arm around her waist. The couple went out for afternoon tea and Thomas drove her home with his new Bentley afterwards.

Y/N and Ada went to the tailor together, to get the dress that Thomas had picked out for the wedding fitted. Ada gasped when she saw it because it was simply beautiful. A slim white dress with a longer train and lace detailing all around the neckline and the short sleeves. The depth of the neckline was a little deeper than Y/N would have picked for herself but it looked fantastic on her. Thomas also wanted her to wear white satin gloves and the veil would be satin as well, with some minimal lace details at the hem. “You look stunning!”, Ada said, “who would have thought that Thomas had so much style?” She chuckled while you stood in the middle of the room, the seamstress running around pinning the dress down to make it fit even more snug. Thomas’ and his brothers suits would be made by your parents and you were really grateful that he fulfilled his promise of only getting his suits there from now on.

All this went through Y/N’s head, when Ada and Polly came to pick her up for her weddings ceremony. Ada brought along a beautiful necklace which of course Thomas had picked out for her as well. Ironically the pendant was a “T”, meaning that Y/N would utterly and completely belong to Mr. Shelby before the day was over. Y/N got into the car and Polly drove them towards Watery Lane where Y/N got into her stockings and into the beautiful dress, Ada put the veil into her hair that was pinned back into a loose low bun with some pieces framing her face. Thomas’ sister also put the necklace around her neck and some make up on her face: mascara, some rouge and a red lipstick. “You look stunning”, she said. Polly came with three glasses off champagne and kissed Y/N forehead, feeling the uneasiness beaming off of her: “Would you like some snow to calm your nerves?” The bride to be simply nodded and snorted the line, as soon as it was done. She did not feel different at first but sometime later her thoughts were calm and she smiled drunkenly. “Much better”, she smiled at Polly, picking up her bouquet and getting into the car to be driven towards the church.

When the wedding march was played, the cocaine still calmed her nerves and made her smile. Her farther walked her down the aisle towards Mr. Thomas Shelby standing at the end of it. He wore a navy black suit with a white button up and a dark fly, Y/N had to admit that he looked incredibly handsome. The only thing bothering her was his evil smile. He took her hand from her farther’s who helped her up the pedestal. Now standing across from Tommy the music slowly ended, he lifted the veil and Jeremiah started the ceremony. Y/N was still high and she knew that Thomas knew who would be mad later. She didn’t listen to anything that was said and just looked into his icy blue eyes, they were like two frozen over lakes in the middle of winter, and wondered if he could ever love her, just a little bit. The loud “Yes” Thomas said snapped Y/N back into reality and at the appropriate moment she also said “Yes, I do.” Her now husband then swept her down and kissed her. Somehow his lips felt good on her. They were full and pink and full of neediness. His tongue brushed against her lip and she opened her mouth for him, his hands on her cheeks, pulling her closer. After he broke the kiss, he pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead and the came with his mouth to her ear: “Behave, little one.” This might have seemed like a loving gesture for the people watching but Y/N knew it was a thread. He put another ring onto her left finger to officially claim you. It complimented the engagement ring very well. Thomas Shelby was a man of style.

The two newlyweds left the church hand in hand getting into his Bentley and driving off towards Arrow House, which was now Y/N home as well, the guests following after a some Canapés and champagne.

Arriving at the House Thomas wasted no time, pulling her inside and into a side room. He immediately pressed her against the wooden door, pushing himself on her. She couldn’t move because his body was pressed against hers, one hand on her left cheek, the other on her hip. His face came closer to hers: “Darling, you can’t imagine how I have dreamt of this moment ever since you so obediently sucked me off.” She swallowed and then his lips came crushing onto hers. She felt dizzy and safe, not sure whether it was the drugs or not but she willingly gave herself to him. Y/N was quite sure that she wouldn’t have done this sober because she was scared shitless of him. The hand from her waist came up to her breasts and Thomas moaned into the kiss: “We gotta be quick and shouldn’t ruin your hair or make up.” He then flipped her around and pushed her towards the desk, pressing her down on the hard wood. Y/N tried to maneuver around but he held her down, pressing his growing bulge into her backside. “You drive me crazy, eh love?”, he whispered into her ear as he leaned down to kiss her exposed neck. While he went rough on her neck, his hands trailed to her butt, squeezing it and then gathering her dress and pushing it upwards. “Don’t move”, he said whilst opening his own pants. She looked back at the man who was about to take her maiden hood, right as his erection sprung free, she noticed how big he is. He chuckled, seeing her face: “Are you worried, eh? I am sure you will manage just fine.” His hand then went around his length, pumping it a couple of times. The other hand found his way to her stockings and even further up her lacy underwear. He simply pushed it to the side and then toyed with something between her legs. She didn’t know what it was but it send shockwaves through her body, Thomas sure felt and saw her reaction, smirking: “I said you would like it, love.” He then spit into his hand and spread it over his erection, the tip leaking with pre cum. Positioning him between her legs, he put the tip between her folds, slowly moving up and down. Y/N felt as if she wasn’t present, as if she only lived through this moment out of her body. Thomas hips snapped forward and into her, making her scream in pain because he was everything but gentle. Giving her a second only to adjust, he pulled out all the way and then back into her, all the way this time. He had to push harder this time, to break her maiden head and he heard her scream. One of his hands came to her mouth, covering it. “Be quit!”, he demanded. It was hard for him to hold back his moans because the thought of breaking her, shaping her made him even harder if that was even possible. She was wet as well but he didn’t care if she enjoyed tonight. This night was all about him: Finding another wife, finding another mother figure for his son, finding the pretty little thing on his arm for business. His hips snapped up harder, he was now balls deep into her, finding a steady rhythm, fucking her without her explicit consent. Since they were now married it wasn’t illegal and he had to blow off the steam about her being high on their wedding day. All of this made him fuck her faster, both of his hands now on her hips rutting into her relentlessly whilst his wife cried silent tears and was helpless. He knew it was cruel but to get her they way he wanted Y/N, mindless and controllable and never speaking back, he had to teach her some lessons. Starting with him showing off who was the dominant one in their relationship.

He erupted with a loud moan and came undone in her. “Might fuck a baby into you tonight. Then you will be a loving and caring mother for my pup!”, he whispered in her ear.

As soon as he came down from his high, he pulled out of her and used his handkerchief to clean himself off before tucking himself back into his dress pants. He adjusted his suspenders and button up until he looked presentable. Thomas then helped Y/N who already got off the table clean herself. He kissed her whispering praises into her mouth but she only felt hazy and confused. A maid was called who helped her readjust his wife’s outfit and her clothing. “Since you seem to like snow, here is a line for you, darling.”, Thomas said looking at his pretty little wife after preparing a line for her. Without any reply, she got down in front of him taking a sniff and the line disappeared. Thomas smiled and caressed her cheek: “Good girl.” Y/N wasn’t scared of him anymore, not when he caressed and care for her, she was and would never be scarred of Thomas when she was high. Her husband knew that and used it to his advantage, drugging her whenever things got rough.

The rest of the night was a blur of happiness and heightened emotions. Y/N played in the snow two more times this evening and was dancing happily while being watched by Thomas. Their last dance was very romantic, a slow Waltz. They looked into each other eyes the whole time and Y/N could feel an attachment towards him forming. She really appreciated when he was soft and likable rather than him being harsh and mean when he did business.

Thomas then took her upstairs into their master bedroom. Y/N didn’t know it was the bedroom he had once shared with Grace, his only love and was too scared to ask him. He picked her up and carried her over the doorstep, her face close to his with her arms around his neck. When he let her down she looked up into his cold eyes and then pressed her lips on his. He grinned into the kiss, soon taking dominance and guiding her backwards until her calves hit the bed frame and she fell backwards. Thomas climbed on top off her, holding his weight off er delicate body. He couldn’t wait to rip the dress of her body and fuck her once again. Their kiss got more passionate and he did really enjoy it. She bit onto bis lip slightly and he took the invitation, sneaking his tongue into her mouth. Since she seemed to enjoy herself, his kisses wandered to her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses, licking down her throat until he reached the neckline of her dress. Her rapid breathing only ignited the fire in him even more. Y/N hands went to Thomas’ waistcoat, opening it and then brushing her hands against his torso. He gave her room to explore whilst kissing her neck back up to her ear. When her hands pushed his suspenders down and started to unbutton his white dress shirt, he whispered into it: “You’re mine now.” It sounded like a threat and a promise at the same time.

Y/N knew that no one would ever lay a hand on her or do her harm unless it was her own husband who lashed out. He found the spot, right underneath her ear, that made her tummy light on fire and kissed and sucked and blew air onto it which only made her moans and forget all the intrusive thoughts. She fidgeted with the buttons and he soon grew impatient so he quickly rid himself off the expensive dress-shirt. Her hands rummaged his lean but toned upper body and his found their way under her skirt once again. Soon her hands were in his hair and his were in her lace panties. This time he ripped them apart, pushing the skirt of the wedding dress up around her waist. His hands exploring her legs and finding their way up to the center. She tried to close them due to the exposure to the cold air but he stopped hair, kissing down to her cleavage and then further down until he reached her uncovered crotch. Kissing his way from her thighs up to her middle, Tommy knew he drove her crazy. He blew air on her clit and she hissed, sucking in the air when his tongue touched the sensitive bundle of nerves. Thomas started sucking and licking up between her folds, sticking his tongue into her entrance. His wife, that was never touched by another man before today, started to moan softly. He heard his name more than once and decided it was time to put a finger into her whilst eating her out. Her hands messing with his hair, moaning she felt a warmth build up in her stomach. Thomas felt her walls flutter around his finger, so he huskily said: “You like that sweetheart. I want an answer.” “I.. I do Thomas.”, she stuttered. Whilst continuing to eat her out he said: “I am the only man who can pleasure you like this. Keep it in mind sweetheart. I am the best to ever happened to you.” Simply moaning a “Yes, Tommy. Fuck”, she came around his finger and onto his tongue. He helped her ride out her high and then quickly undid his pants, positioning his already hard member right between her folds. He spit onto his dick and then entered her, leaving her no time to adjust to him this time because he started taking her in a brutal rhythm. His hand came to her neck, sneaking around the delicate pressure points, pushing down and controlling her breath. Y/N knew she was completely at his mercy and belonged to him in every way possible. “Please”, she hissed. “What?”, he inquired, “please what?” “M.. more”, she tried to say but was cut short by him lifting her legs and putting them around his waist, deepening the angle and pushing into her more deeply, groaning at the new sensation. His wife also moaned. “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.”, he said, whilst pulling out and pushing into her repeatedly, “such a beautiful little slut”. Her moan to his comment nearly made him burst into her but he steadied his breath and the hand from her waist came to her clit once again, drawing circles. Still overstimulated from before he felt her walls clutter again and after continuing for a bit he felt her cum around his dick. “You’re so perfect, love”, he moaned and buried his cock deep inside off her spilling his seed. “Maybe, I fucked a baby into you tonight.”, he chuckled and stayed inside of her for a bit. He searched for his cigarette, moving the one he too out between his lips and then lit it. His little wife was still in another universe, so after finishing the smoke, he pulled out of her, stepping out of his pants and undoing his shoes. He then went to clean himself up, coming back to Y/N sleeping. He undressed her and slid into bed next to her. Thomas last thought before falling asleep was: “I hope she keeps using snow because this is perfect.

[66sharkteeth]

Weekly thoughts!

Hooboy, the big episode! First off, I think everyone knows by now that you probably shouldn't read these if you haven't read the latest episode, but I ESPECIALLY mean that this week! Talking about some way bigger than usual spoilers.

Phew, this was a big one, both from a writing and drawing perspective. I actually spent a full day on that last panel alone, but writing it took way longer than usual too. Going back and forth between Bell's speech and Jericho's backstory played perfectly like a movie in my head, but it was really hard to portray it as a comic and it was one of the few times I was struggling with the limitations of the format. I think I pulled it off though, since everyone seemed to follow along fine! So while it was probably just a neat scene to everyone else, I'm rather proud of that haha.

As for the actual contents of the episode, I'm also glad everything hit w/ the majority of the audience for the most part. I know a handful were confused about if that was Bell or Jericho who did that, but to those people, I remind you it's been loooong established Jericho can control his extensions (Bell, Charlie, and Claude. Remember, they all took injections of Jericho's blank space?). Also on that note, Bell does not have her own scion... Only Rex and Jericho do. Bell, Charlie and Claude all took injections of Jericho's blank space, thus get to borrow some of his power. I recommend re-reading ep 80 if you need a refresher.

I do consider this ep kind of a big reveal of Jericho's true colors. I mean, you guys have known he's the main villain for ages now, but this is the ep that reveals his "better world for blanks" act is kind of a façade and what he's really seeking is a worse world for humans. The fall of humans benefitting blanks is just kind of a bonus. I'm glad a few people caught onto this with the fact that one of the worst horrors he experienced was having his autonomy taken away from him, then he proceeds to do just that to Bell.

And speaking of Jericho's horrors- Before this season launched, I dropped a bunch of hints about upcoming things. One of them was that the most disturbing scene (in my opinion) was coming up. I was actually referring to what happened to Kallie. I'm not sure if it was as disturbing to everyone else (I totally get like if Claude's leg thing fucked people up more), but being evaporated into nothingness but not dying was an existential dread that really fucks me up haha. If it fucked even a couple of other people up, then I did my job.

I don't have too much else to say about the contents of the episode. It was so hard to bite my tongue for weeks as everyone predicted pretty much every character but Desmond was gonna get it. I'm sorry I don't have too much else to say about him right now given what happened, but I definitely will in the upcoming weeks.

I guess the only other note I have is I might as well address something that bugs me slightly- It's definitely a minority but there's a handful of people who seem done with the series because "too many things go wrong." To which... I'm not sure what to tell ya. I'm fine with critique and criticism to be clear, but honestly, this is one thing I'm actually really confident I'm good at balancing. I'm not sure where people are coming from with "nothing good ever happens in this series" when this season alone has had probably the cutest and fluffiest scenes. Rex has a canon girlfriend, he had his first kiss with her, Desmond was reunited with his sister and learned to accept himself, Lyss learned to move past her trauma and accept blanks, Rex was reunited with Shnee, Rex's scion turns out to be a puppy dog w/ a crush. I'm aware a lot of these got kind of crushed with this latest ep...but that's.. kind of. the. point??? That's how you write tragedy and impactful scenes??

I dunno, maybe this is personal to me because it's ALWAYS bugged me when someone tells me they think a show is bad because it's "too dark." Like no... It's not *bad* because it's too dark, you just don't like dark themes, and that's okay. I TOTALLY get if CoB has gotten too dark for some people- it's definitely hit some hard themes and subjects, but I don't like to accept that as a critique. It just means it's not for you and that's okay. There's a ton of other great comics that are more light-hearted! I think the TLDR of this is it will always annoy me when people say something is bad just because it's not their taste.

Now. That said... everyone is completely valid in their hate of Jericho. I, however, still love him.

[rafesgiirl]

I'm not a violent dog, I don't know why I bite

summary: rafe can't control his emotions, he doesn't know how to vent, he doesn't even know what's the thing that feels inside of him, until y/n showed up

warnings: ANGST ANGST, mentions of Rafe's dead mother, cursing, mentions of ward being an absolute dick

author's note: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC 😭 I know it sucks, but I tried my best, it's based on a TikTok edit, this one, I hope you like it 😭😭.

word count: around 2000

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

rafe cameron has always been seen as an aggressive person, as the one who 'handles the business', as that drug addict kid, as the one who killed sheriff peterkin, the one who had the guts to drown his sister.

few knew the backstory, and those who did... didn't even care.

"rafe cameron is bad" "rafe cameron is aggressive" "rafe cameron is crazy"... what rafe cameron really was was a broken kid, but no one seemed to notice it.

that day everything changed, that day he met the girl of his dreams, pretty face and nice body, a smile to die for, her long eyelashes...

her name was y/n y/l/n, she was a beautiful girl, that anyone would drool over.

"uh.... hi... are you— are you new?" he asked the bright-eyed girl.

"oh! hi! yes, I'm new over here" she laughed, a laugh that could stop wars if only they could hear it. “my name is y/n y/l/n, what is yours?” y/n looked directly into his eyes, as if she was searching for something, he felt intimidated, he felt as if she could see right through him.

“rafe…, ‘s nice to meet ya’” the tone of his voice making clear that he was uncomfortable.

“rafe? that's a beautiful name, it suits you so well!”

“thanks..” he furrowed his brows, who was this girl and why was she so captivating?

“oh! wait! rafe? like in Rafe Cameron???”

shit, she knew who he was, she was probably going to say all the bullshit that he didn't need to hear, but before he even had the chance to walk away, she started rambling.

“oh lord! I can't believe it! your family owns Cameron developments right?? oh god my dad ‘s super friend of yours! that means that we could be friends too, right rafe??” those words slipped from her mouth before she could notice she covered her mouth with her hands and then she giggled. “‘m sorry rafe”

his gaze softened at this girl, she was too sweet, almost innocent. he took a deep breath and smiles softly at her.

“no, ‘s fine, we could be friends… yeah— if you want to, yeah?”

“yey!” was the only thing before she squealed and went away giggling and running.

that girl… that girl had something, something that intrigued rafe.

some months passed by, he and she got along really nice, their families often got together so it made it easier for them to develop a friendship.

y/n and rafe got along just well, hanging out, partying together, laughing and smiling... something that he believed that would end up so wrong. after all, he was rafe fucking cameron, the one and only, he was aggressive, he was a dumbass, he just wanted to snort coke and fight with people, he didn't know better… right?

y/n knew about rafe's problems, about his drug addiction, anger issues, daddy issues, he wanted to be the man, because he didn't he feel heard enough, he needed to shine, but the only thing he did, was screw things up with people.

"y/n are you awake?"

his dark voice sounded in her ear as she picked up the call.

"mhm, is everything alright?" she just woke up, it was 3 in the fucking morning, what does he want?

"just wanted to thank you, do you think I could take you.. uh to The Druthers sometime and.. y'know— hang out, tan together, or play uno?"

"rafe? are you okay? why are you saying this now? it's 3am"

"I'm conscious of that, sweetheart" she could hear laughs on the phone.

"rafe.. are you high?"

"uhm— no, no.. I'm not"

"yeah... well, we'll talk about 'going to The Druthers sometime' okay?"

"yeah, sure" he says with a scoff

"I'm being serious, it's 3 in the fucking morning and I'm really tired, talk to you later, yeah?"

silence invaded the call.

"yeah, sure, the only thing you're going to do later is tell me off for not being at my house, and probably also for being drugged, but who the hell cares? no one, y/n, to no one"

"rafe, stop it"

"yeah, because no one gives a single fuck about me, Sarah? she hates me for— for trying to protect what's mine. my dad?" his voice cracks "he hates me, Sarah is the golden child, what am I to him??"

y/n took a deep breath.

"rafe cameron, the kook prince, the most wanted boy in the outer banks, are you seriously saying this to me??" she giggles "Sarah is stupid, the only thing she has in mind is the fucking gold for the fucking Pogues, so ignore that shit, and your father..." her voice trails off "but people do care about you, what about Topper? or Kelce?"

"and you?" he asks.

"me?"

"yeah— yeah shit, you, do you care about me?"

"why do you ask?"

rafe stays silent, once again "b-because I want to know if you care about me, can you fucking answer?"

"yes"

rafe sighs in relief.

"of course I care about you, you dumbass, I wouldn't be in this call if I didn't care"

"you wanted to leave"

"yes, because it's 3am rafe, please" she laughs again, provoking a laugh from him too.

"yeah" he laughs "it's true, I'll go home now, rest good, yeah?"

"mhm, okay rafe, love you"

"what— what the fuck did you just say?"

she laughs once again "I love you, dummy, be safe, yeah?"

"yeah— yeah, bye"

the call ended.

the next day, they were in The Druthers, she was sitting and looking at the sea, he was laying on her lap, letting her play with the locks of his dirty blonde hair.

"y/n?" rafe said really softly.

"yes rafe?"

"thanks"

she looks down at him "for?"

"for loving me"

"damn Rafe, you're doing it wrong.. come here" she helps him sit and she embraces him.

"you help me a fucking lot, y/n and I really want to thank you" he sounded SO pussy whipped, but he didn't care

"I don't do anything, Rafey, it's okay, yeah?"

"I.. damn.. I sometimes feel things in my insides and— and— I just don't know how to fuckin' control 'em, you got me?"

"yes, I understand, what kind of things do you feel?" she said removing her sunglasses from her nose, to put them next to the blonde.

"I don't feel anger, it's a weird feeling, it's more like.." and he goes quiet.

he starts gesturing things with his hands, only provoking a giggle on her.

"don't laugh, I'm— I'm being serious, you spoiled thing"

"I just feel rage, I feel sadness.. I don't feel anger" he says, his baby blue eyes locked with hers, he lays now on his back, looking at the sky, becoming silent.

"I... sometimes think about my mother, and how disappointed would she be if she discovered who I am right now. that I'm not that small child full of giggles and smiles, now I'm.." his voice trails off as he sits, giving her back to her, his voice obviously cracking just at the thought of his mother.

"rafe.." she says, furrowing her brows in worry and placing a small hand on the back of his shoulder.

"my friends think I like to fight." he takes a pause, inhaling deeply "but it's just not true— I mean, yeah, sometimes I lose my temper and blow off a little steam. but I never enjoyed it"

he wipes one of the tears threatening to fall, and he gulps.

"I'm not a violent dog." he turns to face her, his eyes full of tears.

"I don't know why I bite..."

her eyes were sad, looking at him, she was genuinely worried about him, she just embraced him and let him cry on her shoulder.

"they don't deserve you, rafe, they don't..." y/n says with all the delicacy in the world.

"you're too much for them, you're kind and smart, and... you're beautiful, in your insides.."

"I'm sure your mother understands you, your father doesn't because he's messed up in the fucking head, but I understand you, rafe"

rafe looks at her, frowning and looking at her in disbelief "how can you even understand me, how can you even love me, huh??"

"I just do, your heart.. your heart says things that your mouth doesn't, I know your looks, rafe, when you boil, you're not angry... the sadness turns to aggressiveness"

"you can't say that, you don't know me like I know myself" he says again in a broken voice.

"I could try to know you if you wanted me to" she adds with a smile.

he looks at her in disbelief, still frowning "what if I hurt you? like I hurted Sarah, or Wheezie that time when I grabbed her arm and left bruises on her arm for a week” he starts to ramble.

“shh, rafe, it's okay, you won't hurt me, I want to do this, I want to be there for you”

“I don't understand why”

“because I love you” she says quietly, slowly leaning to take his hand.

“I love you, rafe Cameron”

the tears in his eyes disappeared and then they turned even brighter, he smiles and nods.

“I— I love you too y/n”

[strangerquinns]

Deadly Reunion | Chapter 1

Eddie Munson x female!reader

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you're left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home.

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues

word count: 2K+

next chapter ➵ | stranger things masterlist

Your eyes scanned along the shelves and grabbed a few supplies you were able to locate. Band-aids, tweezers, a few sticks of beef jerky that were kicked under a shelf, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and lastly a box of tampons.

“You find anything?” a voice called from the end of the aisle behind you.

Turning around quickly you watched as your friend Wendy walked toward her. Her curly dark hair was pulled loosely from her face into a bun, tendrils falling in front of her face. Blood dotted across her face and blended with the freckles that seemed to kiss her skin more this time of year. The sun is not being gentle even more with the sunburn showing on her shoulders already. You could already hear her higher pitched voice wining about the pain.

“Just a few things, more so for Judy and adding to her medkit.” You shrugged, before tossing your finds into your backpack. “You?”

“Nothing. This place is pretty cleared out. Randall and the other moved to the building next door hoping to find something.”

You scoffed “He needs to stop leaving without everyone accounted for. That’s how we get killed.”

Wendy shrugged rolling her eyes slightly, “He’s a jackass. Come on, we gotta hurry and catch up.”

She playfully bumped your shoulder as she passed you and headed back to the front of the store. Your eyes did a quick sweep to make sure nothing else was missed, before following right behind her. The two of you moved with ease as you jumped back through the window you’d come in from before. Your eyes squinting as the harsh sun came back into your view.

“How much longer do you think we’re gonna be out here? It’s not like we’re find anything.” Wendy asked, “It’s been weeks since our last good search.”

“I don’t know.” You sighed heavily “My mom’s starting to get worried, keeps talking of heading north back to our hometown.”

Wendy’s eyebrows shoot up, “That’s nearly a two-day travel.”

“I know. But all our sources seem to be out here. And she’s got it made up in her head that Hawkins would be better.” You shrugged. “A part of me wants to go back too, see what we can find. We left so much behind when everything was happening.”

As you spoke your hand moved up to the faded and worn down red and black pic that swung from the silver chain around your neck.

“Well…maybe I’ll come with you.” Wendy smiled, swinging her shoulder to wrap and rest around yours. “Not like I have anything holding me here.”

You frowned at her flippant comment.

It had been two years since Wendy’s brother and father died from a mob and her mother dying at the beginning. Leaving her alone, till she’d join the group a few months back. The two of you gravitated toward one another becoming more than best friends.

Wendy was like a sister.

“I would really like that, Wen.” You spoke softly. “I’ll talk to my mom more, convince her on leaving.”

Wendy’s face lit up with a smile that spready across her face and caused her brown eyes to shine.

The familiar sound of a growl snapped you awake and ripped you away from the dream that had clouded your mind. It was rare that you were able to fall asleep without the dark clouds of your nightmares fogging them. You were welcomed with smiles last night instead of screams.

Your head moved from side to side as you tried to find the source of the sound, scrambling to look over the edge of the building you were able to find refuge in. You’d learned quickly while being on your own it was smarter to camp up high, instead of chancing it down below. The sun was barely peaking out from behind the clouds as the morning started to switch back from night. Your heart jumped again when the growl from before sounded louder and multiplied.

The sound a Flayed was enough to churn your stomach with the deepest of dread.

You grabbed your gun from the back of your pants and checked to make sure it was loaded with the safety off. When your gaze returned to the streets below, you saw the movement of them. Shuffling across the overgrown lawn of the business that was across from where you stayed. The blackened veins beneath their skin are dark enough for you to see even at your distance. One’s face nearly decayed back enough that the bone beneath showed.

“Fuck,” You cursed, before moving to line up your shot. You knew the chances of you getting down and past them were slim.

A Flayed’s hearing was something one didn’t want to bet with.

You always came out on the losing side.

Your first shot hit its target.

Its head knocked back from the force of the bullet before the body fell to the ground like dead weight. But the loud cracking sound of the gun alerted the other quickly to your location. Its head snapping with its dead eye seeming to look right at you. The speed that it broke off into was something that one could never get used to. A flayed moved slowly with no motivation till the possibility of a kill presented itself. Then it became the monster it created to be. It’ broke across the street in what felt like mere seconds.

But you were ready, finger pressed against the trigger, before sending a second bullet out. You missed slightly by hitting it on the shoulder. But it was enough to slow it down before you aimed again and sent one through its skull.

You breathed a silent prayer of thanks before letting your body relax. But only for a moment. Knowing the sound of gunshots were only going to bring attention to your location.

You rolled your sleeping bag up tightly and tied it back beneath your bag before looking around and double checking that you’d left nothing else. Once you were satisfied, you moved quickly, climbing back down from the ladder  of the fire escape.

You gave no second thought as you walked by the dead bodies of the Flayed before walking down the main road of the familiar small town you were in.

-x-

“It’s been a couple of days since we came across a Flayed.” Robin spoke softly, Steve and Nancy a few paces in front of her. “Think they’ll lesson patrols?”

“The last thing that Hopper is going to want to do is to lesson patrols. That man is more paranoid than ever lately.” Steve shook his head, his grip tight on the bat that rested on his shoulder, nails sticking out of it every direction. The wood is worn and stained from months of use.

“Can you blame him? Sarah only died a few months ago,” Eddie spoke with a heavy sadness in his voice.

His head swiveled slowly as his eyes scanned over the forest that surrounded him. The only thing that could be heard amongst the group was the sound of their shoes against the dead leaves at their feet.

This was Eddie’s second patrol in a couple of days, and it was already starting to ware on him. His shoulders ached from the clearing they’d done from the night before. All he wanted was a shower and his bed but knew that was hours away. But he knew that being out of the camp was better than staying behind and lingering with his guilt. It was getting harder each day to see Hopper as he walked through the halls or sitting at the head table in the meetings.

Hopper had told Eddie that it wasn’t his fault that Sarah was gone.

But his guilt said otherwise.

And hearing her screams in his sleep was enough to make sure that guilt didn’t leave any time soon.

Just as Eddie’s thought almost ran away down the dark hole he was too familiar with lately, the cracking sound of a gunshot cut through the silence. Everyone stopped the moment the sound was heard, their heads turning in the direction of the source.

“That’s coming from downtown,” Nancy said, sliding her knife into her small waist sheath, before reaching back for her Smith & Wesson.

“Wasn’t that cleared four days ago?” Robin asked. “Who else could be this close to town already?”

“Sadly, we’re gonna have to go and find out.” Steve sighed before starting off toward the direction of Downtown Hawkins.

The four of them moved quickly and effortlessly through the forest that was quickly overtaking the small town that once existed. As they grew closer and closer to the city limits the more the old town came to life. But just as they were a couple miles out, Steve froze and threw up two fingers, causing the others to stop with him. Eddie listened closely and soon able to hear what had caught Steve’s attention.

The sound of feet moving through the woods, from the light sound of it, it was only one.

“Nancy and I will take the north,” Steve instructed “You two head in the south and hopefully we corner them. No shots unless needed, we don’t need Flayed and Crawlers coming this way if they are close.”

Eddie nodded his head quickly and stiffly before moving in the opposite direction of Nancy and Steve. He used the fallen trees and bushes as cover unsure of what they were all going to come across in the woods. Flayed was their top concern, but lately strangers were becoming just as dangerous.

“Munson,” Robin whispered harshly, causing Eddie to turn and look in the same direction she was.

His eyes caught movement of a dark form through the trees a few feet in front of them. Already he knew it wasn’t Nancy nor Steve.

“It’s a transient.” Eddie said.

“Think they are from the group last time?” Robin asked, her tone faltering as it shook with worry.

Flashes from the few months before played through Eddie’s mind quickly with flashes of Sarah’s blood warming his hands.

“If it is, we end it now,” Eddie spoke angrily.

AN: please leave or message me your thoughts, would love to know what you think. I'm nervous about this one since it's been a moment since I posted. But it's a nervous & excited feeling.

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