#at one point our mum got us a bottle of energy drink and I think there's a Monster Espresso downstairs

[thethingything]

I think actually some important context for everything we've posted for at least the last week, but probably longer (I've lost track) is that last time we ran out of energy drinks and ordered more, our package got lost and we had to space out the last two way more than normal, and then we've been having a coffee every few days and hoping for the best.

this has made our ADHD symptoms noticeably worse which is definitely making it harder to deal with everything else that's going on, but we can't really do much about it other than wait for another package of them to get here

[supraveng]

Marvelous Friends part 1

Summary:  You join your best friend at a party, and meet the man of your dreams?

Characters: Reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x Sophie Hunter, RDJ x Susan Downey, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans

Warnings: cursing, reader in over her head, bad writing...

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Aaron, you are supposed to be preventing these things, not causing them“ you scream into your cell phone so agitated by this whole thing that you aren’t even aware that there are people watching you from the window.

You stepped outside trying to not cause a scene or god forbid have Sophie’s kids hear you and repeat anything you might say.  You finally hang up and throw your phone across the lawn as Benedict comes out the door to check on you. 

“Everything ok dear?” he approaches you with a smirk knowing full well that you are irritated beyond rational conversation.  “Can I get you anything?” he asks.  Turning to face him now that you’ve taken a few deep breaths, 

“I think I need a new manager, got any good ones lying around?” you reply.  

“Holy Shit!  That was your manager!  I just thought your husband  was in the doghouse!  Hi, I’m Robert” he sticks out his hand and you shake it, thankfully you are still too riled up to get star struck and make a fool of yourself.  

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t intend to be that loud, but that man is an absolute jackass!  I’m Y/N” you respond as you blow out some air and try to calm down.   

“Y/N darling, you need a drink, let me make you a martini” 

“No, Benny, I’m your babysitter tonight and you know one martini turns into 5” you smirk as you follow  the two of them back into the house.  

Sophie is coming down the stairs and her smile disappears when she sees your red face and Benedict heading toward the kitchen. “Y/N, what happened?  Are you ok?” she asks, her voice thick with worry.  

“Oh Phie, I’m fine, Aaron is just trying my patience and I couldn’t stay quiet” you smile as she wraps you in a hug, then busts out laughing.  

“Well, that’s a long time coming, I’m not sure how you have worked with him this long without bloodshed” she quips as Benedict hands you a cup of tea.  

“I’m not that bad to work with, I just don’t like my personal life to be used without my permission. Ugh, I just don’t have the energy for him today, I wanted to come and have fun with Kit, Hal & Finn” you whine as you sip your tea “but apparently the drama pays off because this is the best cup of tea Benny has ever made for me, thank you” you reach up and peck his cheek “I’m feeling better already.” 

“Good, because the boys have a list of fun for you tonight and they are extremely excited.” Sophie responds “Oh, and this is Susan, Robert’s wife”  

“It’s nice to meet you, now you all go on and have a lovely dinner and don’t worry about us” you smile to the couples as you head upstairs to check on the kids. 

Three hours later the two couples walk back into the house to find you frantically typing on your laptop at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, with a cold cup of tea next to you.  You jump when you hear someone clear their throat, not realizing they had come in and were all staring at you.  

“What? Why are you all staring at me?” you ask.  

Sophie shakes her head and giggles at you “we asked if you wanted to join us for a drink, apparently you are very focused on your work and didn’t even hear us come in.”   

“Sorry, I was planning my wedding” you reply with a smirk “Kit proposed again, actually, I’m not sure this was a proposal, it was more or less a list of reasons why my previous decline is not being accepted.  Apparently, age is just a number and I can move to England right away, so the wedding is next week” you explain as you follow the others over to the bar.   

Benedict turned around with a guilty look on his face, “what did you do?” his wife asks with a pointed glare.   “I was reassuring our son that if he liked someone and made his intentions known then any girl would be lucky to have him, but in my defense, I thought he was talking about that little girl down the street, Madison.   They were playing yesterday and he seemed smitten, so when he mentioned his love living in the US and not in England…..I was trying to help” he huffed out as he started pouring the drinks.   

You all start laughing and realize that since it’s Benedict’s fault, he will have to break it to Kit that you will not be marrying him next week.  “Why do I have to be the bad guy here?  It was an accident!” Ben protests “and why didn’t you just tell him you have a boyfriend already and can’t marry him?”  

“Because I would never lie to Kit” you respond, sipping your martini.   “I haven't really met anyone since I moved back from Vancouver, a few dates here or there but no one to write home about" you say with a shrug  “Well, in that case, can I give you away at the wedding?”  Robert asks and thankfully lightens the mood.  It was another two hours of drinking and laughing with your oldest and newest friends before you all decide to call it a night.   

“Y/N, Robert and I are having friends over to our place on Sunday, we would love for you to be there” Susan states as they are heading toward the door.  “That’s so sweet, thank you, I’ll just tag along as an extra Cumberbatch” you tell her as you hug her goodbye. 

You wake the next morning and know that you have a ton of work to do and 0 motivation.   Deciding to distract yourself as best you can, you text Sophie about the party at Susan & Robert’s.

So what kind of party is this thing tomorrow?

Phie: They usually have 30 or so people, tons of food, drinks, but very laid back.  I think you will like it 

That’s reassuring, the last thing I need is to make a fool out of myself in front of Ben’s celebrity friends

Phie: Oh, there will definitely be celebs there, but honestly I have no idea who, most likely a bunch of the Marvel crew, those who are in town anyway….but don’t stress, they are all  mostly normal people, lol

Well, I’m going to work on some writing and then maybe try to find something nice to wear to the party, I might make a fool of myself, but I need to look like I have my act together

Phie: Send me pics, I’ll help you decide….btw Ben has been questioning me on your dating habits, I have a funny feeling that he might try to set you up...

Well, that sounds dreadful,  I love your husband but what is his track record for match making?

Phie: I don't think he's actually ever tried to set anyone up before

Fantastic, I'm the guinea pig 🙄

 Ok, what do you think of these, I don’t want to be overdressed or look like I’m homeless

Phie: I love them both, but how about you were the short one & I borrow the blue one?  

That is a great idea!  I’ll be there a bit early so we can get ready together.  Who is staying home with the boys?

Phie: Actually, day time parties with the Downey’s usually includes the kids, so they will be joining us

Time for the party came earlier than you had anticipated as you pulled up to Phie’s house, Kit came running out the door with a big smile on his face.  Crouching down you scooped him into a hug and kissed his cheek.  

“Well aren’t you in a good mood today, handsome?” asking as you set him back down.  He grabbed your hand and began dragging you back to the house. 

 “Mum told me we can’t get married next week, but I can still love you for the rest of my life, isn’t that great!” he exclaimed as you walked in the front door.  

“That is the best thing I’ve heard all week!  And I get to love you for the rest of my life too” you reply watching the realization hit him and his smile get even bigger and run off to tell everyone the good news.  Before you could do anything, you went back out to your car and grabbed your bags and then headed up to Phie’s bedroom to get ready.  

“There you are, I was beginning to worry” she said as she pecked your cheek and gave you a hug, then handed you a glass.  

“Did you start day drinking without me?” you inquire as you sip on the merlot with a smile on your face.  

“I just opened the bottle for us to enjoy while we get ready.  I spoke with Kit and the wedding is off but he understands and all is well.  Benedict tried and, just made everything messier” she responded while pulling the blue dress from the garment bag.  

“You did a fantastic job, he gave me the biggest hug and seems very happy that we will not be getting married” you giggle as you move around her room figuring out the best place to put your things.  

“I think he’ll be more upset about you taking off next week than anything, that’s why I’m not planning on telling him until after you’ve gone.  He has grown really attached to you” she smirks as she’s slipping the dress on.  

Before you realize it, the wine bottle is empty and Ben is knocking on the door.

“You two look amazing as always, but the car is here, so we need to head out.  Can you bring Kit down with you while I go down and get Hal & Finn seated in the car?” he asks as Kit comes in and gasps looking up at his mom.   

“Mum, you look like a princess” he hugs her legs and looks up at her lovingly. 

 “Thank you love, you look very handsome.  Are you ready to go? Do you have your bag?” she asks while rubbing his back.  

“Oh, I need to get that, and can I give Y/N her present now?”  You look over a bit confused 

“oh Kit, you didn’t have to get me a gift” you tell him as he gives you a hug.   

“But it’s important to show the people you love how special they are, I’ll be right back” he states as he heads back downstairs.  You look at Sophie confused and she just smirks at you as both follow him down to the kitchen.   He holds up a cupcake with a huge grin on his face.  

“This is for you, because you are as sweet as a cupcake.  And that’s a ring you can wear to remind you that you are wonderful when I’m not here to tell you.” 

 You feel like you are about to cry, it was by far the most sincere and thoughtful thing you have ever heard.  “Thank you!  I love it & I love you!” you told him as you kissed his forehead and put the ring on.  

“Alright, let’s get going Kit, dad and your brothers are in the car waiting for us!” Sophie grabbed his hand and laced your arm with hers as she ushered you all out the door. 

Stepping out of the car at the Downey’s house you started walking towards the door when Kit came up and grabbed your hand.  

“Can I be your date tonight?” he asked with a shy grin.  

“Absolutely!  There’s no one else I would want to accompany me tonight.”  

Ben turns to you, holding Hal & Finn “remember Kit, the kids are going to be playing upstairs, but you can join us when you get hungry, alright?”  

“Yes, dad, but Y/N is still my girl” he stated proudly as you walked through the door.  

“That’s right Ben, I’m Kit’s girl!” you lean down and kiss the top of his head just before he heads up the stairs with his dad.  Sophie grabbed your arm and the two of you headed further into the house.  

Robert spotted you almost immediately and came over hugging you both “where is the fiance? Are all the details in place for the ceremony?  I’m still walking you down the aisle right?”  

“Hi Robert, I’m sorry but the ceremony has been cancelled.   Sophie was able to talk some sense into Kit since Benny was useless” you reply.  

“I heard that!” Ben remarks as he’s coming into the room.   “And in my defense, I’m not useless, just not very good at telling my son no.”  

“It’s alright dahling, you tried your best.” Sophie tried to console Benedict who seemed to take your statement to heart.  

“Well, I’m glad you made it, can I get you a drink?” Susan asked as an attempt to move on to a more neutral conversation.   

“Yes, please” you replied happily as you followed her to the bar.  

“Y/N? Y/N L/N?  Holy Shit!”  You heard from the doorway to the next room, where most of the party goers had already gathered.  You turned and was shocked 

“Seb?  Holy Shit!  How are you?” you asked as you moved over to hug him.  “It’s been so long, I’m surprised you recognized me.”  

“I’m good” he responded “and yea, it’s been like...10 years? And you look great, haven’t aged a bit!”  

You laughed at his response “that is an absolute lie, but I will take the compliment anyway.” you giggle at him.  He was always such a nice guy to work with and genuinely considerate to everyone on set.  His charming personality always made you smile. 

“This is so great running into you, I saw your interview on Good Day LA last week.  You are doing so great!” he said with a huge smile.  

“Oh thanks, but I think that may have been the worst interview in the history of television.   I was honestly hoping no one saw it” you cringed rethinking how quickly the questions had gone off the rails.  You are a writer, becoming more well known over the past decade so interviews were becoming more common for you, but that one felt more like a Twilight Zone episode.  

“Well, it was a bit crazy, but you handled a lot better than most people would.  I was impressed” he grinned as he took a sip of his beer.  

“Thanks, I appreciate that, and my whole deer in headlights reaction.” you commented as you took the drink Susan offered.  

“Hey, I didn’t know you knew each other?” you heard Robert say as he came up from behind you “and what happened in the interview?”  

“Yea, I was writing for Gossip Girl, back when Seb was on and he was constantly teasing me for being cold” you reminded him with a smirk.  

“New York in fall is beautiful, not cold! You are crazy!” he responds as he starts laughing at me.  

“And the interview was a shit show that I barely made it out alive” you state with a roll of your eyes.  

“That’s not true, you put that woman in her place and didn’t seem fazed by her ridiculous questions at all” he told me.  

“What the hell happened?” Robert seemed more interested than I thought he would 

“we were talking about my new book and the book tour coming up, then all of a sudden she’s asking me about my ex” I responded as I shrugged my shoulders.  Sebastian looked at me “then, the woman asks if she’s seeing anyone now, and your response was priceless, I might steal it if you don’t mind”  he states as he’s laughing remembering the interview.  

“Y/N, dear, what did you say?” Robert asks with a smirk.  

“I asked her ‘why? Are you shooting your shot?” as you start laughing too, realizing that you probably couldn’t have planned it if you tried.  At this point you realize there are more of the Marvel friends standing around listening to your conversation and you don’t even care.   

Your first drink is kicking in and it’s not like you are ever going to see these people again. “Honestly, I don’t know why she even mentioned my ex, nobody cares who I’m dating, I’m a writer”  

“Yes, but when us writers date high profile celebrities, people want to know” Sophie reminds you as she puts her arm around you.  

“Oh Phie, high profile is a bit of a stretch doncha think? But you are always my voice of reason, this is why I love you!” you say as you kiss her cheek.  Looking around the room you wonder if there’s anyone else here you know, when you see Chris Evans on the other side of the room.  

Benedict immediately follows your line of sight and smirks before taking your empty glass.  “I think you need a refill, here allow me, why don't you and Sophie go find a place to chat.”  

His wife shakes her head and gives you a small sympathetic smile before sending him back for refills.  Sophie drags you further into the room and finds a spot to sit that gives you a better view of Mr. Evans.  

“I didn’t realize you knew Sebastian” she said as she sat.  

“Yea, we worked together when I was living in NY, that was 10 or 12 years ago.  I didn’t know you knew him” you respond.  She looks at you questioningly, then shakes her head.  

“All the Marvel people know each other, you still haven’t watched the movies, have you?”  

“Um, I haven’t seen all of them, there are a lot, but I did watch Doctor Weirdo, and Benny was very good!” you respond quite proud of yourself.  

“Bloody hell!  It’s Doctor Strange, we’ve had this discussion before” Ben states as he hands you your fresh drink.  

“Ok, I’m sorry.  Doctor Strange, although I don’t think that’s much better than Doctor Weirdo.  And in my defense, your facial hair in the movie gave me nightmares'' you say as you sip on your drink. 

“Anyway, did the ex contact you after the interview?  I’m just curious?” Ben asks, rolling his eyes at you.  

You scrunch up your nose at the question “no, why would he? I haven’t spoken to him in the last four years. And honestly I'm sure he deleted my number.  Can we talk about anyone else?"  

"Yes, what's the schedule on the book tour? How long will you be gone?" Sophie acts trying to defuse the irritation in your voice with the mention of your ex.  

You can tell by the way she's glancing at her husband that she's trying to figure out why he brought up your ex knowing full well that if he had contacted you, she would have been the first one to know about it.. 

"Oh I'm flying out next Sunday, heading for NYC, then I'll be in Boston for 2 days, then a day In Philly, a day in Baltimore and I'm not 100% of the cities after that, other than ending up the following week in Miami so I can be with the family for spring break" you mention to them. 

"Did I hear you say you are only going to Boston for 2 days, that's not nearly long enough" you hear a deep voice state as you look up and see Chris Evan's standing next to Seb and walking closer to you.  

Holding out his hand "I'm Chris, I don't think we've met" he states.  

You plaster the most sincere smile you can on your face in hopes of not drooling at the sight of him, shaking his hand "I'm Y/N, and yes, this tour is only 2 days in Boston, but I lived there for 5 years so I’ve seen quite a bit already” you respond.

“Huh?  For someone who’s cold all the time, you seem to wind up in colder climates” Seb laughs at you.  “Shut up! You are the worst!” you respond with a laugh.  

“It’s true though, darling.  And you always call me to complain about it!” Sophie responds with a smirk.  

“OK, in my defense, Boston was a needed escape from my family, whom I love dearly but can be quite suffocating at times.  Then Chicago was my first real job after graduation and I couldn’t pass that up!  And as my best friend, Phie, you are required to listen to all my complaining, regardless of the topic” you state matter of factly.  

“And last year in Vancouver, that was the worst yet, she would send me photos of eyelashes with ice crystals on them” Sophie laughs remembering your first winter in Canada and how miserable you were.  

“That was awful and you and Benny both ridiculed me, I’m still emotionally scared”  

“So, you don’t like the cold but keep torturing yourself?” Chris asks with a smirk.  

“It appears I do, but it’s always for good reason. Chicago was an opportunity I couldn’t resist, if I had taken that job, I probably wouldn't have published my first novel” you explain with fondness.  

“That’s not true, Y/N.  Your first novel was incredible and it would have been published eventually”  Ben states as he takes your empty glass.  

“Benedict has read my book?” you asked Sophie completely shocked.  

“He has read all of your novels, but I think the first 3 was trying to find juicy gossip on how we met or something to try and blackmail you later, I’m not quite sure” she responds with a shrug.   

“Hold on” Seb interjects “your book, Searching for more, is about Sophie?” 

“Yes, and no” you respond “the adventure that Annabell has is loosely based on my summer after high school before moving to Boston.  And her new found friend, Fiona, is Sophie to a T!  And I’m also shocked that you’ve read it” you eyed him suspiciously.  

“Ok, so you really married a French man when you were 18 and brought him back with you?”  Seb asks, completely disregarding that you questioned him about reading the book.  How did your day turn out like this?  This was the most surreal moment you have had in a long time.  

“No, he wasn’t French, he was Belgian!” Benedict responds as he comes back in with refills.  You start laughing when you see the way Chris and Seb are staring at you wide eyed.   

“Oh my gosh!  No, I didn’t get married when I was 18.  And Benny, you weren't there, you don’t know anything” shaking your head.  “Annabelle’s story is loosely based on events that occurred, we didn’t get married…..and he was Swiss, I think.” you snicker when you look over at Sophie for confirmation, she shrugs and takes a drink.    

The five of you continue to chat for another hour or so when you feel a tap on your shoulder.  You turn to see Kit smiling at you with a cup in his hand “I missed you” he states as he climbs up into your lap and hugs you around your neck.  

“I missed you too little man, do anything fun while you were upstairs?” you asked as he made himself more comfortable.  

“I didn’t know you had a kid” Seb says as you are trying to balance the 5 year old in your lap with your drink in your hand.  

Kit looks up at him “she’s not my mum, she’s my girl!  That’s my mum” he states as he points to Sophie.  

“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Seb, this is my friend Chris.  What’s your name?”  he asks while Kit plops himself in the middle of the group as though he should have been there all along.  

“I’m Kit” he states as he extends his hand to both Chris and Sebastian.  

“So, she’s your girl, huh?” Chris asks with a smirk “is it serious?”  

“Very!  He gave me a ring today, see.” showing Chris your right hand and the Wonder Woman ring. 

“Wait a minute, the wedding is cancelled, but you still gave her a ring? I’m not sure that’s how it works buddy”  Robert kneels down talking to Kit.  

“it’s ok, I get to love her forever and we can get married when I’m 30!” Kit explains as he rushes off to join the other kids.  

You all turn and look at Sophie “I thought you fixed it Phie!  You’ve just given him a deadline!" you gasp. 

She smiles at you with a guilty look on her face "I think you might need to grab a bite to eat before you have another drink. And honestly, I'm sure he will forget all about this in a few months. Besides, I won't let my 30 year old son marry some 60 something year old hag that's after him for his money!" she states as seriously as possible. 

You deadpan "thanks for that. I need a new best friend" you roll your eyes and head towards the food. 

"Well, I didn't see that coming" Robert chuckles as he watches the two of you walk out of the room. 

"That actually went better than I expected" Ben responds and shakes his head, "those two are worse than siblings." 

A/N: I had an idea of who the ex is, but I may just leave it open for interpretation, he does come into the story later, but can remain faceless

[fakecrfan]

Since you very nicely offered to write me a fic:

Your prompt is: A story about a background character or characters dealing with life after the TMA apocalypse.

It can be set in the OG TMA universe in the post-post-apocalypse, or it can also be set in a different universe that was affected by the events of MAG 200.

Both OCs and characters established in-show are allowed.

This one aligned so well with my interests that I am actually tempted to open my inbox, briefly, in case anyone else has questions like “what is X bavjground character doing after the apocalypse?” so I can make a series out of it and expand on my post-post-apocalypse headcanons.

For now, you can read your fic here, on over here on AO3

---

Sarah doesn't know where she is.

England, she has to still be in England, she thinks. But it's not an England she recognizes. Not the cobblestone streets of London, and not the moors she used to visit on her vacations. The ground is barren, as though all blades of grass but a few have shriveled up and died. There are no trees, houses, or landmarks for miles--just scorched remnants of where they might have been before.

For a moment, the emptiness of it all is a relief after the hotel. But everything is the same on all sides, and she doesn't know where she is or where to go. She's starting to get hungry, too. She never got hungry in the hotel, nightmarish as it was.

She has to sit down for a moment, take a few deep breaths, and think.

Get food. Find shelter. Survive.

Find Alex.

(God, why had she left her child in a hotel room? Little twelve year old Alex who was still afraid to sleep without a night light. He'd begged her to stay, she should have--)

With that in mind she gets up. Doesn't know what direction to walk in, so she doesn't concern herself with trying to pick one. There's nothing to do but walk, keep her eyes open, and hope.

So she hopes.

---

None of our old maps match the landscape, anymore.

The world these days it's... not like in the before times, as I suppose we're calling it. Despite our hopes, ending the apocalypse wasn’t like everyone waking up from a nightmare. The land is...

It's scrambled, I guess. There are patches of the world that--well. They're not the same, but still have infrastructure intact. Electricity, running water, air conditioning. No scorched earth or rubble in these areas. Just a bunch of traumatized people living in an intact town, or city.

When I talk to them, they tell me it's not the city they remember, though. Everything has been switched around, houses and stores not where they remember them. Their neighbors aren't the neighbors their remember.

Those are the lucky ones. And then there's, well... the outside.

Some places have rubble everywhere, jagged steel ripped apart and waiting for someone to cut themselves on it. Some are frozen over, still waiting for the ice they were frozen over with in the apocalypse to melt. Some are scorched to dust. No phones out there, or anything that lets you connect back with home base.

I'm going out there. We need to map it out. We need to figure out our new world, understand it--and we need to get as many people out of the wastes as possible.

Melanie, Georgie--I’ll see you soon.

---

Sarah does find water. That's something. She's hungry still, so hungry, but she knows that the water is more important.

She wonders if she should stay there. She doesn't know if there will be more watering holes in the future, after all, and she has no way to carry it with her. She decides to keep moving on, and hope for the best.

She starts to see blades of grass poking up, along with some sort of metal crap strewn about the landscape. She looks at them a moment--it seems to be bits of an old carousel? Eventually, a giant sit in their shade, for a while. There she takes a moment to look at the horizon, and goes cold.

She recognizes the tower on the horizon.

A  scaffolded tower with two legs beneath it. A sight she'd last seen on a postcard from her brother. The Eiffel Tower.

Is she in Paris? No, that can't be it. It's just the tower out here in the wastes. There are none of the buildings that would normally surround it. It's almost as though its been ripped out of the city and transported here.

Does Paris even exist anymore? Does London?

If she even finds Alex, will there be a home for them to go back to?

---

I have a theory, Melanie. I think lots of people got transported to different places in the world based on what fear they belonged to. Like, a bunch of lonely people were put in the same place, a bunch of claustrophobic people were put in the same place, and so on. All away from the people they knew.

I’m in one of the suburban safe areas now. No one here knows each other. I talked to them all, and all of them remember living in the same house before, but none of them recognized the houses near them or the people in them. When I went from house to house, everyone had a different native language. I talked to a German guy and a French guy who spoke English, but a lot of them… couldn’t talk to me at all.

There was a woman who--she saw me and she lit up. She grabbed me and started talking a mile a minute in Arabic, I think. But I couldn’t understand her, and she--when I tried to talk back to her in English, her face just. Fell. And then she started to cry.

My dad refused to speak it at home, you know. He-- Actually, never mind. It’s not important. 

She ended up shoving me away.

---

Sarah makes it to the ruins of a forest. 

There’s nothing but stumps left of it, along with litter everywhere. She finds water again, filthy brackish water, and she drinks it anyway because she’s so thirsty. She starts sifting through all of the garbage strewn about for something edible. She finds stale bread crusts crawling with ant and eats them anyway. 

She finds a can of beans, and almost cries. When she can’t find a can opener, she screams instead.

---

The death count has gotten to me, honestly.

I’ve found dead bodies even in the towns and cities. Some looked like heart attacks. Some suicides. People who woke up but couldn’t bear the agony they’d just gone through. That’s still not… the worst of it.

I passed a whole field of dead bodies today.

Hundreds of people, I think, all of them lying dead in the soil. But there were... trails. They had been walking, before they collapsed. All walking in the same direction, to where you can still see London on the horizon.

They were alive. They were trying to get help. And they just... starved, it looks like. The walk was just too long.

How many people are going to die from it all, Melanie? How many already have, out where we can't see them?

I left as many jugs of clean water and rations along the roads as I could. I put up signs pointing to London, saying how many miles out they were, where I had stashed food. I gave them your number, so they know who to call to get to the shelter.

I hope it means the next group that passes by won't die.

I hope there is a next group.

---

Sarah can see what looks like a city in the distance before she collapses. 

She tries to get up, but can’t. She’s been walking for days now, it feels like, only sporadically drinking and almost never eating.  There just isn’t enough energy left in her to stand.

She tries to think about little Alex again, running around in his Batman cape, hoping some kind of love or maternal instinct will kick in and give her the last burst of adrenaline she needs to get up. It doesn’t work. Maybe she doesn’t love her own son anymore, really. Maybe it’s just been fear and guilt driving her this far, and that source has already been wrung dry. 

She manages to crawl a few feet, before she can’t even do that. With nothing else left to do, she starts to cry out. “Help! Water, please!” 

She doesn’t think anyone will hear, or show up. But against all odds, in her dimming vision she sees a figure come into view. Backpacked, clutching a water bottle. 

“Help,” she croaks out again. 

The figure gets closer, and she starts to be able to make out the details of his face. He’s her age, or older, with worry lines carved into his forehead and wide eyes. His nose looks eerily like her brother’s nose, and the shape of his jaw reminds her of her old boyfriend, the one who left her with--

She blinks. Maybe she’s hallucinating, or maybe she’s somehow run into a long lost cousin. But then, the man’s eye’s widen and his mouth opens.

“Mum?”

No, no it can’t…

“A-alex?”

No, Alex was a little round cheeked boy. This is a thirty year old man, at least, taller than her. It hasn’t been that long. It can’t be, it’s not--

“Mum?” He’s doing a frown that looks so, so familiar. This has to be a dream. “Mum, it’s--no.”

He sniffles. He steps forward, and steps back. He paces, uncertain.

“No, no,” she hears him mutter. “It’s all fake, all fake. It’s a trap. That’s what they want, the monsters and the face stealers. No one is real. Don’t give them what they want--’’

“Please.” she begs. 

But she hears him walk away, sniffling, and shortly thereafter everything goes dark. 

---

I have a confession to make, Melanie. I was going to side with Jon, back then. I could have lived with keeping everyone here suffering to prevent more of it. But when he said he was going to kill the whole world, not just leave it--that’s what made me snap. 

I couldn’t let the whole world die. Genocide of the entire human species? Anything but that. Surely passing along the suffering would be better, as long as it didn’t lead to the extinction of whole worlds. But… 

I keep finding more dead bodies.

I went back to that suburb I talked about, to restock on all my food. It was a lonely domain before, I think. I’d thought everyone there would be fine, you know. They didn’t have any deadly sicknesses, or twisted flesh injuries. They had food and water and shelter. But when I went back… more of them had died. 

Lots of suicides. Some of them snapped, and started to self injure.

The German guy I talked to had started to starve. He had a pantry full of food and he just wouldn’t eat it. I tried to get him to eat, to move in with someone else, but he said talking to people “made him sick.” 

I gave up, and left. I had to. There were too many people, and too much to do, so I left him. He’s probably dead now, or going to die soon. Because he can’t find the will to live, and I don’t know how to help someone with that.

The Lonely is probably one of the least directly harmful entities, right? This domain was just a suburb, probably the most comfortable you could get during the apocalypse. And yet the victims are still all dying. 

How much worse is it in places without food and water? In the corruption domains that still probably have deadly diseases spreading? In war zones, in flesh factories?

I think about that nursing home we found. All of the patients who'd died of heart attacks a few minutes after they'd woken up. The ones left alive screaming for help where no one could hear them, for days after the fact. All of the ones that died in their beds before we found them. 

I think about that field of bodies I found the other day. I think about the ruins of that Circus I found, people refusing to talk to me or each other--refusing to help because they didn’t believe it was over and thought everyone else was a mannequin. 

I think… I think it doesn’t matter that we saved the world. If people can’t find the will to live, ro rebuild, to trust and help each other again… I think we’re going through a mass extinction event anyway. 

---

Sarah’s in a car, she thinks. Not a moving one. She’s propped up against a seat,There’s something plastic pressed to her lips.

“Come on,” says a woman’s deep, level voice. “Come on. I got you. We’re getting to London. All you have to do is drink.”

Sarah opens her eyes. She sees a dark-skinned woman trying to coax her to drink, holding up a water bottle. 

“Just a sip,” the woman says. “Just enough to make it.”

Sarah closes her eyes, and takes a long moment to consider whether she wants to.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Caught Backstage | 5th Second

Warnings; includes smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), embarrassment, second hand embarrassment,

Wembley Arena, one of the most famous places that a musician could perform. It was an honour to be welcomed onto that stage, and even more so that there were cameras around corners within the crowd, capturing the sheer joy imploding onto the faces of fans, and to top that all off, there was another reasoning for the lenses. A movie, technically the second one, but the first taking information from each member of the band.

It felt so surreal, there was an onslaught of adrenaline running through your veins as you held a chilled water bottle, drinking the cold liquid. You had yet to start the show, so there was still time to kill. One of the last times that had been recorded was when Mikey and Cal had been cinched by the snaking flames, it made you relieved that that idea had been scrapped for the future.

However, even though there was no fire nearby, there was a heat riveting inside of you, you had so much energy awaiting, but it was still almost an hour until you were called out to grab a guitar and stand behind a microphone. Those statistics made you huff, and so you walked into the dressing room that the five of you shared, only to see a single singer there. Luke.

Your partner was half laid on the couch, his phone grasped in one hand. As you entered the confinement, you ensured the door was closed behind your jittering presence, so that if you were to consensually pursue your primal urges, there would be a barrier, blocking out the view of anyone that decided to be a peeping tom.

“Missed you.” He mumbled, continuing to stare at the screen of his device. You sat beside him, his hand extending to your thigh and massaging the taught muscles, it was a comforting act, his lips pressing to the skin that the uprise of your shirt exposed also. Luke was the sweetest, and his statement made you laugh a little, not enough to trigger any insecurities, but enough to peak his curiosity. Although his phone was still in his hand, he was peering up at you.

“I was gone for twenty mins tops, and I still didn’t get my phone back from that asshole.” Crossing your arms was not the only sign that signalled that you were frustrated. Another was the crease that formed between your brows, which Luke reached up to try and rub away, at his touch you let the line shrink away.

“That’s better.” He spoke, throwing his phone onto the table in front of the couch, his hand coming up to brush any loose strands of hair that had absentmindedly decided to escape from behind your ear. “What did he want with it anyway?”

“He saw it as a way to piss me off, and for once Mikey was correct. Normally I wouldn’t be bothered, I’m so exhausted from our work, my mum wants me to visit her in (Your Home Town) and is getting annoyed that I can’t because business, and my dad’s getting the other end of the stick, she’s saying she should have never let him move me to Sydney with him. A part of me is slightly happy that Mike took my phone, but the other wants to rip his head off.”

“Would sex help ease your list of troubles?” It was blunter than the boy usually was when referring to the activity, let alone suggesting it. Your head snapped up to lock onto his smirking gaze, trying to decipher whether he was being serious or not.

“Here? Now?” Slipped past your lips, unsure whether the idea was that great of one. Sure, when you had entered the room, it had been an probable thought, one that had calmed you just from thinking about it, however it seemed risky.

It certainly wouldn’t be your first time having sex with the risk of being caught, the tour bus and hotel rooms were a green zone, however there were paid staff behind the scenes of the stage, working to make sure everything went perfectly and to plan. The aspect of two famous teenagers having sex on a sofa, in the band’s relaxing quarters wasn’t on the schedule. But what did they expect, as said, you were teenagers.

“We have forty seven minutes, there’s plenty of time.” Luke prompted, his hands beginning to undo his jeans which attracted your eyes to the area of his covered cock. However you didn’t stop his actions, instead you remained still, letting him shuffle his layers of concealing articles down his thighs, far enough to the point where he was revealed.

His dick lay heavy on his thigh, twitching slightly when you licked your lips at the sight. “Care to shed a little clothing too? I don’t think this is going to work if only one of us is half undressed.” At his suggestion, you too shimmied down your black skinny jeans and underwear, neither anything particularly eye catching or special to the moment.

Your pussy was left bare, and as you came to rest again upon the sofa, you hovered over Luke, your eyes cast down as he had his hand on the body of his length, his hand conducting the movements of his cock and how it rubbed sensually against your slit.

“Just put it in me!” You sighed, brushing your hair over your shoulder. As you commanded, Luke bottomed out inside of you, pulling you down on him by the waist, his face coming to rest closer to your own. “Oh.”

“You’d think you’d be less tight by now, not that I’m complaining.” He bit his lip ring, which encouraged you to lean forward and take the metal ring into your own mouth, sucking on the black accessory and the part of his lip around it. Then you began to move, bracing your hands on his chest as you brought your tightness up and down his erection, coating him in your pleased juices and the feeling elicited happy noises from the pair of you.

“Good, don’t.” You breathed, your eyes fluttering at all of the sensations that you were feeling from where your bodies interlocked. The bliss never got old, the passion remained intact through each day of your relationship, and it was presented to those who opened the dressing room door. They groaned because of the sex, but for a different reason than Luke had been.

“Fucks sakes guys.” Calum turns, not wanting to see two of his best friends in such an intimate moment, clearly not meant for their eyes. At his voice, Luke and you froze instantly, redness spreading from your cheeks all the way down to your necks and luckily clothed chests.

“Not again.” Ash shook his head, and you avoided the eyes of your bandmates. They laughed a little, but you and your partner however did not. “Did you two really have to do it in here?”

“We’ve never done it in a dressing room before.” You attempted to sass back at the drummer, but to your dismay, your voice came out as quiet and guilty. Not really the attitude that you were going for, but oh well.

“Can you guys give us a minute to get decent?” Luke asked, his hand flopping over his face, to which you prodded his fingers, trying to peer through them to find his ocean eyes.

“Sure.” Mikey dragged the word out, unsure how to deal with the situation. “I just came back to give your phone back (Y/N/N) And the sofa’s all yours when we grab dinner, I don’t want to sit on that thing.” He threw it at you, the object ending up right next to Luke’s naked thigh which tensed from the contact.

“Thanks.” A sheepish smile was exploited onto your lips, teeth showing through their parting in an awkward stance.

“We’re on in a bit, keep your hands out of each other’s pants until after the show please.” Calum spoke, still refusing to look at the two of you. A loud sigh was heard from him as he walked away, and you imagined it as a prayer to either make him blind for future instances in which they caught the two of you in such a position, or for him individually to never have the unfortunate luck of seeing you two as such ever again.

Taglist

: @coucoukayy

@reallygroovyholland

​ @faithhhsworld

@lukehemmingsleftnipple

@inocent-as-a-rose

@marvel-af

@kingxnichole

@winchestergirl907

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Who says I want to go back

This contains spoilers for Friday's ep of Emmerdale, because it enraged me so much I had to write a fix-it. So have a Robert's the one helping with Liv fic. I've borrowed relevant bits of dialogue from the ep (watching that twice was not pleasant btw)

--------

"Well I need something to forget that I'm here with you. When you're in my face Aaron, I hate you." He can tell himself that she's just mouthing off, that she doesn't mean it but it still hurts, has every time she's said it.

"Yeah I know Liv, you keep telling me. What am I supposed to do, I'm terrified. I can't stop you hurting yourself."

"Please. I'm not in danger. You're just a control freak that can't stand me having fun." He can see Robert, standing just inside the door, trying not to intervene because just lately that makes everything worse, but he knows he's there, that's what's important. He should be on his way to see Seb, he's already late and he nods, tells him to go, he can manage.

"That's not true."

"You want everyone to be as miserable as you, don't ya. Oh poor Aaron. You wouldn't want to be happy if you knew how to. You just want to drag us down cos of what you've been through." He just shakes his head. Is it true, is she right, does he do that? Robert's always teasing him for being grumpy, but is it more than that, does he drag him down too. "What, no shouty comeback?"

"If that's what you think then there's nothing I can say is there." He doesn't wait for an answer, just grabs his coat and leaves. There's no point even trying to talk to her when she's like that.

He heads to the yard, maybe an hour or so of bashing the hell out of metal will help calm him down. He should've gone with Robert like he suggested, but he hadn't wanted to leave Liv alone all that time.

It doesn't work like it always had in the past, and Robert's not answering, even after enough time has passed for him not to be driving.

"You alright kiddo?" He throws the crowbar down as Cain approaches.

"What's she done now?"

"Who? Your demon of a sister? Nowt, but your Mum said you'd had words."

"Something like that." He collapses down on the steps, throwing his gloves on the ground.

"You alright? She said Sugden was off to Liverpool."

"Yeah, to see Seb. Not like we can have him at ours right now is it?"

"You know, it's not a failure to say you can't cope."

"There's no one else is there? Sandra's worse than useless and she doesn't have anyone else. I'll sort it Cain. You'd never leave Mum to fend for herself would ya?"

"I might if she didn't want my help. I'm just saying...it's alright to fail." He nods, because he can't. He's failed her once already, he left her behind. He won't do it again, no matter how hard she pushes him.

--------

She's not about when he gets home and after making himself a cuppa he tries Robert again, just wants to hear his voice.

"Robert, this is really not a good day for you to do that ignoring calls thing. Just, call me back, please. I need you."

"God that was pathetic. No wonder he's not answering. Maybe he's finally seen the light. He's gone off to Liverpool for a couple of days, who knows what he's getting up to there."

"Why would he Liv?" Her words don't even hurt anymore, he knows Robert better than that, trusts him properly now.

"Wouldn't be the first time with her would it? All he's got here is you leaving whiny messages on his phone."

"You don't have to pick a fight just to cover what you're really after. It's right there."

"Aw what's up, don't want to tell me what to do anymore cos hubby's off with the ex?"

"Enough! Do you know why he's gone there huh? It's cos we daren't have Seb here with you like this. Just go Liv, get out of my sight."

"You just can't face up to the truth can you? He's up there with her and you're here, alone. Face it Aaron, you're the fool."

"Oi! What the hell is going on?" Both of them turn round at the sound of Robert's voice. Aaron smiles when he sees he's got Seb in his arms, immediately reaching out for the little boy who he's sure has grown since the last time he saw him.

"Liv was just telling me what she thought you were getting up to in Liverpool." He can see when Robert realises what he means, and he takes Seb into the kitchen away from the pair of them. "Hey mate, it's alright, we're not mad at you. How about a biccy eh?"

"Oh was she. Why don't you enlighten me?" He sets Seb at the table with a colouring book they keep handy before watching the two of them.

"Well it wouldn't be the first time would it?"

"I think you're winning in the repeating mistakes game right now don't you? So what brought on this latest round of making everyone hate you? Run out of vodka?"

"Of course you're taking his side!"

"You've all but accused me of cheating so why would I take yours? How long are we doing this for Liv, because I'm tired. Aren't you?"

"Get off my back Robert!"

"Fine. Just get out."

"You can't throw me out. It's my house!"

"So you keep saying, except that's not actually true is it? It's half Aaron's and mine too." He stands his ground and Aaron stops himself from getting her to stay. He doesn't have the energy, just wants Robert and Seb, and some peace. Liv stares at him for minute before she grabs her bag and storms out.

"You know she's just going to drink all that at the pavilion don't you?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll go after her in a bit, when you tell me why I have thirty missed calls?"

"I should go. I'm her brother."

"Yeah well you married me. What's yours is mine and all that crap. I think you've taken enough off her for today don't you?" He runs a hand through Seb's hair before hugging Aaron, holding on until he relaxes properly. "Go on, what did she say?"

"Do I control people? Make them miserable?"

"What, no! Did she actually say that?" Aaron nods. "That's ridiculous."

"You're always saying I'm grumpy."

"Yeah cos you are, and I love you anyway don't I? You never make me miserable though, or anyone else. The only one doing that round here is Liv. I know she's suffering Aaron, but this can't go on."

"I don't know what to do anymore. She won't listen."

"Then we ask for help. As much as I love your Gran, her idea isn't going to work and your Mum's idea...well the less said the better. When I've found her, we're going to see Liam, or Manpreet."

"But..."

"No. We need proper advice Aaron. They'll know who to talk to, or how to talk to her. She doesn't have to know, not yet, but I'm not having you upset like this."

"Ok." He sniffs, pulling back from Robert's arms, feeling cold as soon as he does. "How come he's here?"

"When I got to Rebecca's I saw all your calls and guessed something had gone on so I asked if we could change the weekend to here. She didn't mind, her and Ross have some concert thing they want to go to anyway. Besides he missed ya. I don't do cuddles as well as Daddy Aaron apparently."

--------

"So this is where you're hiding." He sits down on the steps beside her. The bottles beside her are still mostly full so hopefully he can actually get through to her. "Make you feel good does it, hurting Aaron?"

"Does actually."

"Funny...I used to think I could manage all on my own, didn't need anyone else. Without the gallons of vodka obviously, but yeah, I pushed everyone away, said all the right things to make it happen even though inside I was begging someone to stay, to see how much I was hurting, how much I needed them."

"I don't need anyone."

"Except you do, if only to pay the bills so you can afford that." He points to the bottles. "So why don't you talk to me because if I come home again and find you've spoken to Aaron the way you have today you might just find yourself truly alone. Trust me, you don't want that to happen."

"Aaron would never do that."

"Maybe, maybe not. Everyone has their breaking point and I truly don't think he's far from his. So go ahead, if you want to lose your brother forever then I'll give you some tips from when Andy and I hated each other. Or," He picked up one of the bottles, unscrewing the cap and pouring it onto the grass. "You can come home with me now, apologise, and then tomorrow, we'll go to Manpreet or Liam and get some advice."

"And if I don't?"

"I reckon it'll take about an hour to pack the car and then Aaron and I would be gone."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me. I love you Liv, you know I think of you as my sister, but Aaron is my number one priority, him and Seb and I'm not having him putting up with your verbal abuse any longer." He gets up, brushing off the back of his jeans. "I'll leave you to think about it. We'll be at home."

The walk back to Mill calms him down, ready to tell Aaron what he'd said. Liv was likely right, he doesn't think Aaron would ever abandon her, anymore than Robert would Vic, but something had to happen, had to change.

"Do you think it'll work?" Aaron asks him as they watch Seb playing in the garden a while later. There's been no sign of Liv but Robert could only hope she'd listened.

"I don't know, but if it does, then it's a start."

[fandomlovingfreak]

Mrs. Weasley Dear (12/13)

George Weasley/Reader

Word Count: 1400

Rating: T+ (Slight mention of sex I GUESS)

Masterlist Link I AO3 Link

Summary: After their whirlwind romance, including a Pureblood Marriage Contract with a special clause, confessions of love from both, and a quick wedding, everything seems right in their world. Domestic life seems like it was meant for them.

Notes: So sorry for the LATE update (nearly 2 months geez!) there will be ONE more chapter after this one! Currently I’m writing my Remus Lupin fic (Healing His Heart) and finishing up Incidentally In Love (Charlie Weasley fic) so if there is to be another series based on this one (a time skip 100%) it may be a bit of a wait! Again, terribly sorry for waiting SO long to update. My time got monopolized by school and then new ideas I had! You know writers though! We get excited about new ideas and have to start those immediately or we’ll die! hahaha

Enjoy

Three years later...

"Fred Weasley!" George hears his wife's voice ring through the house. Sounds a lot like every other time their son has gotten himself into trouble. For a three-year-old, he already had a knack for making messes and causing chaos too familiar to his namesake. 

The frantic quality in (y/n)'s voice as she yells their child's name again causes him to get up from what he was doing to investigate.

"(y/n)?" he calls before he can see her. She's got the squirmy three-year-old in her arms, trying to clean up the contents of a large bowl she had been using in the kitchen.

"Take him!" she passes Fred to him, looking exasperated as she plucks her wand off of the kitchen countertop. With a wave of her wand, the mess on the floor and counter vanishes, and the kitchen is back to its pristine state. The mess on (y/n)'s person, though, is very much still there. Flour and other ingredients are splattered across her shirt, in her hair, and a tiny bit has found its way on her face.

"What happened?" he asks, trying to hold Fred at arm's length. He, too, was covered in baking ingredients.

"I didn't realize he was in the room, and I left the bowl too close to the edge. I almost caught the bowl, but it landed--well everywhere when he pulled it off." (y/n) looks like she's trying not to laugh. "Can you get him washed up?"

Fred instantly begins to fight, "No! No! No!" His little legs kick out, trying to break free from his father's grip.

"I can." George adjusts his grip on Fred, making sure he can't wriggle away.

"No! I don't wanna!" Fred starts to squirm more.

George laughs, "you don't know how much I admire my mother in moments like this."

"I can't even imagine this times seven..." (y/n) shakes her head.

"Let me go!" Fred again tries to get away.

"You need to take a bath. You're covered in flour and eggs, buddy." He walks up the stairs with their screaming kid under his arm.

***

"See? Now you're all cleaned up." He's got the three-year-old wrapped in a fluffy white towel as he carries him to his room to get him dressed. Fred has been pouting since he got him in the bathtub full of bubbles, his bottom lip jutted out. He frowns up at him when he's set down on his bedroom floor. George chuckles, "It wasn't that bad, Freddie." The little boy huffs in response, moving away from his father to look at one of his toys.

George shakes his head, moving to get Fred new clothing. He helps the three-year-old dress, having difficulty getting him to set down his toy so he can get his shirt on.

"C'mon, Freddie. Put the toy down so we can get your shirt on."

"No!" Fred tries to move away from him.

"Fredrick Fabian Weasley put down the toy now." He raises his eyebrows at the little boy. Fred looks like he's about to throw a tantrum, but one glance at his father's serious face has him putting down the toy. "Thank you." George slips the shirt over his head.

Fred picks the toy dragon back up, "see daddy?" He holds it up for him to see.

"I see. Very nice," he nods, standing, "let's go downstairs and see if mummy needs any help."

He opens the door to let Fred walk out in front of him. He tries to help the little boy down the stairs by taking his hand.

"No!"

George chuckles, still keeping quite close in case Fred missed a step and tumbled forwards.

Once they safely make it to the bottom step, he leads Fred towards the living room where (y/n) is sitting.

"Mummy!" Fred clumsily runs towards (y/n), holding out the dragon toy for her to see.

"Oh, very nice, Freddie," she pulls Fred up into her lap so he can adequately show her the dragon.

"See? Daddy wasn't letting me play with it!" (y/n) looks at George, confused.

George chuckles, "only because he wasn't getting dressed."

(y/n) grins at George before directing her attention back to their son, "Freddie, darling. You have to listen when daddy tells you to do something."

"No."  (y/n) looks at George, seemingly unsure where to go from here. He shrugs, also unsure where to go from here as well.

"Fred Weasley, do not talk back to your mother." Fred ignores him, continuing to play with the toy dragon.

"What are we going to do with you, huh?" (y/n) touches Fred's cheek.

***

"George" (y/n) touches his forearm gently. He was able to get their son into his bed and asleep in less than two hours. It had to be a record. Fred only whined about not being tired a grand total of ten times, struggled only a few minutes when it was time to get his pajamas on, and begged to read five books. Overall successful for his bedtime routine, still equally exhausting.

"Yes, dear?" George stretches his arms over his head as he yawns.

"Are you too tired to have a drink?" She snakes her arms around his abdomen, pressing her body against his.

"Never," George grins down at her before pulling her into a sweet kiss, "I'll always have the energy for a drink with you."

"Perfect." She pulls away, grabbing a bottle of red wine from their countertop. She pours a glass for each of them, handing him his before she sits down on the couch. George plops down next to her, putting his large hand on her thigh.

They sit in pleasant no-child-screaming or causing a mess, silence. George's hand runs up and down her thigh absentmindedly, enjoying the comfort of sitting with his wife on their couch.

"You know-- I've been thinking--" (y/n) sets down her glass of wine, "and this is going to sound insane because Fred's such a-- well, he's somewhat of a nightmare at times--"

George chuckles, "Yes?" He has an odd idea that he knows where she's going with this little idea of hers.

"What if, and you can tell me I'm insane because I might be, we had another?"

George set his own glass down on the side table, "Another baby?"

(y/n) nods hesitantly, "I know it may be a bit hectic to have Freddie and another child... but I don't know--"

George grins, "You know I want a houseful; why would you think I would object?"

"One or two more. Not a-- houseful, George Fabian Weasley. And because, well today, for instance. Two would be double what we already deal with, Georgie. You know I adore our son, but two? That may be pushing it for me." She laughs, "but I so want another one..." George begins to unbutton his shirt. "What are you doing?" (y/n)'s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as she watches her husband shuck off his shirt.

"Giving you what you want, of course."

(y/n) giggles as George pushes her gently flat on the couch, "George!"

"What?" He grins down at her, "Isn't this what you want?"

Her fingers card through his red hair, "On the couch?" she quirks an eyebrow.

"Well, if we trek up to the bedroom, there's a chance it'll wakeup Freddie. That won't do, will it, darling?"

She looks thoughtful for a minute before nodding, "fine. But we must be quiet. He's too curious for his own good and will find us if we're too loud."

Fred purses his lips, "Maybe Uncle Charlie can take him for the weekend so we can do this properly."

(y/n) laughs, "You're going to send our child away to get properly laid?"

"He has nearly destroyed my sex life," George teases.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "you're telling me."

George leans down to kiss her again, "are we going to do this?"

She grins, "do you think Charlie can take him this weekend?"

"If Charlie can't, then I'm sure Ron and Hermione will... or even mum." What's the point in having a massive family if one of them can't take your kid for the weekend?

"maybe just in case...?" her fingers trail down his chest to his belt buckle. (y/n) bites her lip looking entirely too exquisite underneath him.

"Yes!" He cringes internally at the eagerness in his voice. Her grin is infectious as she brings him back down to kiss her.

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Nine: Baby You’re A Firework

In some ways life had become easier for Ashley since her pregnancy was leaked to the press, she could freely walk Daisy to school each morning without having to wear the baggiest jumper she could find. She was also inundated with kind messages from other women, who like her were raising children as a young adult, she finally felt ready for her baby’s arrival. Knowing the baby was due to come any day, Daisy was behaving more angelic, perhaps in an attempt to make Ashley’s life easier, or maybe it was to ensure she wasn’t forgotten about when the baby arrived. “”Mummy, when the baby comes will I still be it’s big sister?” Daisy asked as the pair walked to school.

“What do you mean Dais?” Ashley asked.

“Harry isn’t my Dad is he? But he’s the baby’s daddy.” Daisy replied.

“You’ll still be the baby’s big sister darling, in fact you’ll be the best big sister ever.” Ashley assured her. 

“I promise I will be mummy.” Daisy smiled as they approached the school gates.

“Be a good girl today poppet, and remember we’ve got Lou and Lux’s fireworks tonight.” Ashley told her, holding her tight in the warmest of hugs.

“Love you mummy!” Daisy cried before running through the school gates.

“She’s a sweetheart,” One of the mums beside Ashley remarked.

“I don’t know where she gets it from, I was a little tear away at that age.” Ashley replied.

“Surely it’s her dad, he is a national treasure after all.” The lady smiled.

Although Harry wasn’t Daisy’s biological father, the whole world just assumed he was, he loved her like she was his own, and for Ashley that was enough.

“So do you feel ready for the new baby?” Gemma and Ashley had planned to shop for bits for the baby, but the british weather has other ideas. They’d managed to find shelter in a small vegan coffee shop in the back streets of Hampstead. It was one of those cool instagrammable places with hanging ivy trailing across ceiling beams and pink neon light signs.

“It’s less scary this time, even though Harry won’t be there for the birth, I know he’s going to be the best dad.” Ashley replied, sipping on her hot chocolate.

“Definitely, he’s finally mastered flat pack furniture, he’s set up a little nursery in the room next to his.” Gemma smiled.

“You know a mum at the school gates referred to Harry as Daisy’s dad, but I didn’t correct her. Because it felt right.” Ashley told her.

“Daisy will always be his world, we both know that.” Gemma assured her.

“Yeah, she adores him.” Ashley replied.

“And he adores you. He’d move heaven and earth for you if he had to. Where did it go wrong for you two? You were so good together.”

“Maybe we were always just destined to be best friends, and nothing more.” Ashley sighed.

“Ash, I’ve seen the way you look at each other, even at your house when the pregnancy got leaked, he could’ve easily contacted Jeff to protect his reputation and let us look after you, but he went straight to you. For Harry, it will only ever be you.” Gemma explained, she knew her brother better than anyone else, she knew they were right for each other since they were kids. She saw Harry’s face on the day of Ashley’s prom, when she was a bridesmaid at Anne's wedding and when she was on his arm at the Brits, he adored her and he cherished her. If Gemma could put the way Harry felt about Ashley into bottles and sell it, she would, because no matter what happened, or what anyone said, he would only really ever have eyes for Ashley.

It was late in the evening, thankfully the rain had held off, Ashley and Daisy were at Lou’s house for a small bonfire night gathering, the kids were playing in the garden, toasting marshmallows on the bonfire with Lux’s dad Tom, while the mums sat in the kitchen eating the leftovers of the takeaway pizza the kids had obliterated. “So when are you due Ash?” Lou’s sister Sam asked.

“I was due for halloween, but clearly this one enjoys it in there more than Daisy did.” Ashley told her, she knew the baby would come soon as every so often she’d feel a little flutter or a kick in her ribs.

“Have you got any names?” Lottie asked, from across the table.

“There’s a couple, if it’s a girl I love the idea of another flower name to match Daisy, and if its a boy, there's a few nature related names I love.” Ashley had one name in mind, regardless of whether it was a boy or a girl, she wasn’t planning on telling anyone yet, but she knew it would be a name Harry would love and hold close to his heart forever.

All the other parents and children had left, Lux and Daisy were curled up on the sofa drinking hot chocolate while they watched a movie on the TV. “Hey Dais, what are you watching?” Ashley asked as she poked her head around the living room door.

“It’s my Harry.” Daisy whispered, Ashley looked at the screen to see Harry and the boys performing at the O2, the girls had chosen to watch the One Direction movie, a film that captured so many moments that Ashley held close to her heart.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” Ashley asked Lou as she returned to the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” Lou asked, Ashley raised her eyebrows, “You mean Harry don’t you?”

Before Ashley could explain her epiphany the sharpest shooting pain hit her spine.

She gripped onto Lou’s marble top counter, “It’s happening Lou, the baby’s coming.”

“Are you sure?” Lou asked.

“That’s definitely a contraction Lou.” Ashley winced, “Why do I only go into labour in kitchens?” 

“Tom’s out the back, I’ll ask him to stay with the girls, Daisy can stay here tonight. Where’s the baby bag?” Lou replied.

“In the hallway, in the cupboard under the stairs.” Ashley told her.

“Ok I’ll grab that and call us an uber, you sit down and I’ll tell Gem to meet us there too.” Lou instructed her.

Ashley pulled out her phone, ringing Harry, even though she knew full well he would be on set filming, “Hey Harry,” She winced as it began recording her voicemail, “It seems as though our little one is on it’s way into the world, Daisy’s in safe hands, she’s watching This Is Us with Lux, she is so proud of you H. I know you’ll worry but don’t because Lou is taking me to the hospital and Gem said she’ll meet us there. I’ve been a bitch these past few months, I should’ve let you in, but we both know that after the way other people have treated me before, that being open and vulnerable scares the shit out of me. I want you in the baby’s life and I want you in mine, frankly at this point I don’t care what capacity it's in, because you mean the world to me Harry, you’ve been the one constant source of happiness in my life since the day we met. From the day my dad died and you slept beside me because you were scared of what I might do to myself, when I had my first period and you spent your pocket money on a box of all my favourite things and when you were like a father to Daisy, that meant more than anything else ever could. Whatever happens between us Harry, whether we parent our baby as best friends, or whether we grow old and grey together, I will always be your golden girl.”

Compared to Daisy’s birth, this one was a walk in the park, Ashley was sat up in the hospital bed, already fully dilated and the nurses had given her the epidural to relieve some of the pain. “Right Ash, it looks like this baby isn’t hanging around, shall we get going?” The midwife said as she pulled on her surgical gloves. Lou had returned home to the girls, but Gemma stayed by Ashley’s side, holding onto her hand for reassurance. “When you’re ready Ash, I need you to push on the next contraction.” The midwife instructed her, “You are sensational Ash! That's the head delivered, I need you to push really hard to get this little one’s shoulders out now.”

“I am never letting your brother get me pregnant again.” Ashley huffed to Gemma after pushing through another agonising contraction.

“This baby is a chunky one Ash, I need you to give me one last almighty push, use every last bit of energy you have to push it out.” Ashley used every muscle in her body to push the baby out as hard as she could, until the once silent room was filled with the shrill cries of her new baby. “Congratulations Ash, you’ve got a little boy.” The midwife cut the umbilical cord and immediately placed him on Ashley’s chest.

“Hello little man, aren’t you a beauty?” Ashley whispered, a single tear of pride rolling down her cheek.

“He’s perfect Ash,” Gemma smiled, “You were incredible.” 

“Welcome to the world baby Robin.” Ashley whispered, already completely infatuated with her new baby.

“Robin?” Gemma smiled.

“I adored your stepdad, when we lost my dad he was always there for me, he always looked out for me, and I know how much Harry loved him, and it’s the only name that feels fully suited to him.”

Ashley was in love, her brand new baby boy lay sound asleep in her arms, his delicate little hands poking out of the sleeves of his baby grow. Gemma had gone home to get some sleep, which Ashley had encouraged her to do, so now it was just the two of them in the little hospital room. Ashley’s phone began to buzz and she picked it up to see Harry’s face, “Hello stranger.” Ashley grinned.

“Is everything alright? I got your voicemail.” Harry asked from the comfort of his trailer.

“Everything’s great you could even say perfect,” Ashley whispered, “Do you want to meet him?” 

“Him? We’ve got a little baby boy?” Harry replied, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek.

“This is our little baby boy, Robin.” Ashley told him.

“Robin? You know Mum is going to adore that, and I adore him too, thank you for naming him that.” Harry smiled.

“It only felt right, I think I always knew that’s what I’d call him, it just seemed to make sense.” Ashley replied, staring at her little boy in adoration. “He’s way bigger than Dais was, he weighed almost double what she weighed when she arrived.” 

“She’s going to love him.” Harry whispered, “I can’t wait until I can see you all in person again, I miss you all like mad.” 

“We miss you too.”

Robin made Ashley feel truly complete, it was the following morning and she had just changed into a comfier t-shirt and joggers, along with one of Harry’s tour hoodies. Robin was sleeping peacefully in his little cot, having just been fed, as she sent Harry yet another picture of their little boy, a little person popped their head around the door. “Hello Mummy,” She heard a whisper. 

She looked over to see Daisy, holding a balloon and a gift bag with Lou beside her, “Hello my best girl, how are you?” Ashley crouched down, greeting her daughter with open arms, “I’ve missed you so much angel.”

“I’ve been very good, Lou made us special pancakes for breakfast.” Daisy told her.

“That’s lovely,” Ashley smiled, “Thank you so much for having her Lou.”

“It’s no problem really, she is an absolute sweetheart.” Lou replied.

“Daisy, would you like to meet your little brother?” Ashley asked, Daisy nodded in response as Ashley lifted Robin out of the cot. “This our little baby Robin.” 

“Like my Grandad Robin?” Ashley was taken aback, she wasn’t sure if Daisy remembered him, but everyone loved to talk about him fondly, so Daisy must just have picked up on it, it melted Ashley’s heart that Daisy called him her grandad.

“Yes Dais, just like Grandad Robin.” For once it seemed as if life made complete sense, Ashley had two beautiful children who she loved more than anything else, and finally she knew exactly how she felt about Harry.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

sins of mortals part ten

ohohoh BOY HERE WE GO

master list

Sirius Black x Slytherin! reader

word count: 2,400 (about)

warnings: language, drinking, that's about it. 

summary: let's see what Sirius is thinking about everything

Sirius couldn’t help but smile, something was exhilarating about fighting with you. The fire in your eyes was sexy as hell and when he managed to win that fight, there was nothing more satisfying.

He remembered when he had first seen you.  He was a scrawny eleven-year-old waiting on the train platform, his mother fussed over his hair and lectured him on what not to do while he was away. Sirius wasn’t paying much attention to her. He was distracted by all the bright colors and moving people. suddenly his mother grabbed his ear and yanked on it.

“you listen to me when I’m talking to you Sirius Black,” she hissed

“Yes Mum,” he sighed 

“you see that girl there,” she asked pointing a boney finger at you, a girl getting fussed over and yelled at by her own mother. 

“yes,”

“you stay away from her, far away. She’s rotten” his mother hissed. Sirius nodded and agreed to avoid you at all costs but it was a lie. If his mom hated you then you couldn’t be all that bad.

Sirius couldn’t understand why his mother didn’t like you, you seemed like the perfect little stuck up Slytherin. Then he heard you talk about Muggle Borns for the first time. 

“There is no difference between a pureblood witch and a muggle-born one maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass Malfoy you would understand that,” Sirius couldn’t believe you were the one who had said that, he probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. 

Sirius chuckled just remembering that. It was the first and the last time he had ever heard a Slytherin talk like that. 

“what’s got you so smiley?” Remus asked nudging him in the side, pulling him from his memories. Sirius beamed wider and strode happily into his dorm room, Remus holding the door open for him.

“I just convinced the prettiest girl in the world to come to our party,” he said smugly setting down the crate of butterbeer and pushing it beneath his bed. James groaned loudly.  

“Don’t just don’t” James snapped crossing to him and gripping Sirius’s shoulders tightly

“Don’t you dare fall in love with (y/n),” James demanded shaking him slightly.

“I’m not in love with her hopelessly infatuated maybe-” Sirus joked, although it wasn’t as fake as he would like to pretend. 

“Do we need to do a pros and cons list, Sirius?” James asked before Sirius could tell him to fuck off Remus summoned a blackboard. 

 “guys come on-” Sirius protested but James was already writing a list. 

“let's start with the cons,” James said pushing his glasses up his noes and rolling his sleeves up

the list ended up looking like this 

Cons

- She’s a Slytherin

- She practices black magic

- Friends with Snape

- Terrible taste in clothing

- Wearwolfphobic

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Remus cut in 

“Who cares it gets the point across doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think we can say she has terrible taste in clothing we’ve only seen her in her uniform,” Petter added thoughtfully.  Sirius looked at the list. “pros?” he asked hopefully. 

Pros

-Sirius is an idiot.

 He looked at the list and thought. He remembered the boggart in class, you had shrieked like everyone else when the werewolf appeared. Remus was more important to him, no doubt. he sighed

“what do you want me to do James? Uninvite her from the party?” he sighed. 

“Just promise me you aren’t going anything stupid,”

“I promise-”

“No promise” James held out his pinky to him.

“We aren’t children Prongs!” Sirius cried nocking back his pinky

“You Have to!” he whined shoving his finger back in Sirius’s face. 

“Merlin,” he cursed before forfeiting his pinky. “I pinky promise that I won’t do anything dumb.” James smiled

“right, now we can talk about what’s really important. Evens made me chocolates-” Sirius instantly tuned out of the conversation, and let his mind wander back to you. 

 Sirius was buzzing with excitement, he couldn’t sit still at the breakfast table.

“I don’t know why you’re freaking out it’s just a practice match.” Remus sighed 

“A Practice match that the whole school is watching,” Sirius pointed out. 

He was the first one in the stands watching as everyone filtered in. Sirius liked watching people, an Incubus trait he supposed. But he liked making out people's expressions, guessing what they were really thinking and figuring out their secrets. you were good that way, all of your feelings bubbled right to the surface when he talked to you. there was never any guessing. He snapped out of thinking when someone poked his cheek. he blinked and locked eyes with you

“Hey Cutie,” he purred reflexively. the soft upward tilt of your lip quickly dropped to a frown

“Do you always have to ruin the mood Black? Here I was trying to be nice-” you ranted then he noticed the Scarf wrapped around your neck. it was red and gold instead of the yellow and black he was expecting.

“So I see you decided to rep Gryfindor after all,” He said cutting you off. your cheeks flushed a deep red. 

“I found it in the dorm rooms,” you mumbled. he quirked an eyebrow up at you silently asking for you to continue “Yumi gets around, probably one of her blokes was in a rush to get out and he left it behind,” you said. he hummed and patted the seat next to him, still, he was surprised when you actually accepted and sat next to him.

“Don’t look so shocked, No self-respecting Slytherin would be caught dead near me while I’m dressed like this,” you said haughtily. his grin widened, 

“their loss,” He shrugged. and all the better for him, he thought but said nothing. 

you were unnervingly calm during quidditch matches, you sat perfectly still while everyone around your screamed and jumped up around you. your eyes followed the players meticulously, your posture perfect, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Merlin, you were posh.

he leaned in and whispered in your ear “would it kill you to relax a little?” He asked making you jump. you scowled

“I am relaxed,” you huffed, “I’m having a grand time,” he rolled his eyes. 

“if this is you relaxing then I can’t wait to see you party,” he laughed 

“I told you, Black, I’m fun at parties,” you defended. He was so busy glaring at you and trying to think of a witty comeback that he missed the Snitch as it flew neatly into Potter’s hand. everyone around you roared around you. Sirius jumped up to try and get a glance of what he missed, but it was too late the game was over. 

“don’t pout, I thought you were excited for the party,” you teased nudging him in the side. he offered you his arm and was surprised for a second time when you actually took it

“well lead the way, Black,”

Despite your, Nemours claims that you were a ‘party girl’  Sirius could tell this was probably the first party, still, you made a good show of nodding your head to the muggle music playing and accepting the butterbeer he gave you.  He wanted to stay by your side and maybe tease you more but he was quickly pulled away by other Gryffindors and the Slytherin girls that crowded around you were the same ones that had snapped at him the night you had summoned him. 

Still, he couldn’t help but keep glancing over at you. as the party went on you did seem to be enjoying yourself. “Sirius?” He turned and saw Petter who looked rather green in the face, “I think I Drank to-” a gag gut him off mid-thought. Sirius’s eyes widened in fear as he realized what was about to happen. Before Peter could ruin Sirius’s shirt, and night, a bucket materialized in front of his face. Perter grabbed the bucket gratefully and puked his guts out. Sirius patted his friend on the back and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up to see who had saved him and saw you, your wand drawn smiling smugly. you sheathed your wand and blew him a teasing kiss. 

a soft warm buzz washed over him as he absorbed that energy, which reminded him, He hadn’t gotten his kiss yet today. He crossed to you smirking. Besides you still had to tell James he did a good job at the quidditch match.

“Thanks for that love,” he laughed and to his surprise, you burst into a fit of uncritically girly giggles. 

“You looked so scared!” you shouted before giggling again. 

“how many of those have you had?” he asked nodding to the half-empty butterbeer bottle in your hand. 

“I don’t know like two? But you should try these- uh Firewhisky shots they are soooo yummy,” you said. that explained it, he smiled 

“Maybe you should take it, easy lightweight,” he laughed you moved to lean in but you were off balance and you ended up falling he caught you easily. “See what I mean?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered. 

“Clearly,” he said rolling his eyes. 

“are you done scolding me?” you asked 

“Actually I need a quick favor from (y/n),” he said in a saccharine tone of voice. “you remember what you promised me, Love?” He asked you, you looked confused for a second then you laughed. you cupped his cheeks and yanked him down and planted a kiss on him. He could still taste the whiskey on your lips. a rush of energy flooded him, making his skin feel white-hot. He was quick to pull away, kissing you when you were piss drunk didn’t sit well with him. 

“Not what I meant Sugar,” he said, “Remember what we said about you complementing the Quidditch team?” he asked. you thought about it. 

“Do it have to?” you whined. 

“yes, let’s go, love,” He said leading you over to where James was, Jane watching closely.  “go on Love tell him about the game.” he prompted.  

“Hello Potter I think you are an absolute git but you did great at the quidditch game, go choke on a shoe,” you said James blinked at you not quite sure how to respond. 

“Thanks, you too,” James said finally, a little drunk himself. you laughed and opened your mouth but Sirius pulled you away before you could stay anything else. 

“Aren’t you tired love?” He asked you scowled. 

“No I don't want to go to sleep,” you said flatly, not in the same giggly tone he had gotten used to, but this party wasn’t any place to talk.

“let me walk you back to your dorm love,” he purred  you shook your head 

“Okay but we gotta tell Janey where we’re going She’ll freak otherwise,” you mumbled. Sirius couldn’t help but smirk 

“let's go talk to Janey then,”

“No way,” Jane snapped glaring at Sirius if looks could kill he’d be six foot under. “I don’t trust some fucking Gryfindor anywhere near you,” she hissed trying to keep Sirius from hearing

“I’ll take it from here!” she snapped trying to pull you from his arms, but Sirius was stubborn and he still hadn’t figured out what was up with you. the magic buzzed in his face

“Come one Sugar you can trust me,”  he purred, she flushed instantly as she fell for it. She caved. 

“If you hurt her you’re dead.” Jane threatened before turning her back. Sirius pulled you out of the common room and into the hallway, the only sound that could be heard was the soft snoring of the paintings. 

“you want to tell me what's, wrong with going to sleep Love?” he asked calmly, you grimaced.

“don’t laugh,”

“I won’t, I promise,” 

“I've been having nightmares,” you admitted shyly, it seemed like alcohol made you honest as well as giggly. 

“they are horrible Sirius, I can’t-” tears welled in your eyes, his body tensed, he was never the best with crying. 

“I can help if you want.” he blurted suddenly, at least it got you to stop tearing up. 

“what?”

“you really didn’t do any research about incubus before summing one huh?” he laughed and you scowled

“sorry right, but basically, If I can take away nightmares, if I was a full demon they would become pleasant dreams but, I can make it so you sleep peacefully if you want?” his voice tilted up turning it into a question. 

“you can do that?” you asked your eyes widening. 

“they don’t call us ‘dream demons’ for nothing Love,” he said. 

“do it,” you commanded. 

“you’ll have to let me into your thoughts it-”

“do it I don’t care,” he nodded and pulled you into an empty classroom, the halls were no place to do something like this. He cupped your cheeks and lowered his head until your foreheads were pressing together. 

“relax Love, let me into your mind,” he muttered, lacing his words with the subtle magic only he possessed. you went lax in his hands, and he suddenly, he was out of his own head and in yours,

he tried not to read your thoughts, he really didn’t want to know what you really thought about him. it was simple enough to put up a barrier to block out any dark dreams, he had enough practice from helping Remus and his younger brother. 

once he was sure it would stick he pulled back and you reanimated in his arms. 

“that's it?”

“that’s it, love,”   Sirius felt drained, all the energy from the earlier kiss gone, maybe he could persuade you into two kisses tomorrow, or at least a longer kiss. you walked back to the Slytherin entrance without speaking to each other, both of you lost in your own thoughts he was about to turn away and leave you at the door when you spoke 

“thank you,”

“ah it was no problem love, I have to take care of my best girl don’t I?” he said flirting on instinct. 

“no I mean it thank you, Sirius,”

“you’re welcome (y/n),”

Tag list:

@booksaremymate  @buckyos    @drama-llama-04@wonderholicc   @peasantview   @blackpinkdolan   @can-i-just-like-it @monster-alien-chode   @evilunicorns4minions @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @way-ward-whale @evyiione @mey-rapp @bittersweetsuffering @hopelesslylosttheway @accio-rogers @writing-stars @moshi-mocha @siriuslysirius1107

Remember if you want to be added just ask and I’ll add you!

[likesomekindofcheese]

Oh My God, They Were Roomates! (Roger Taylor x fem! Reader Angst and Fluff!)

A/N: @cool--cats​, ta-da! I am your secret Santa! And here is your gift for @dtfrogertaylor​‘s Somebody to Love Valentines Event! Enjoy!

Taglist: @cool--cats​ @dtfrogertaylor​ and @queenlover05​

Summary: After a decade apart you reunite with your old roommate, Roger Taylor, now a famous drummer, with something pressing your mind.

Word Count: Around 1,700

Content Warnings: domestic abuse, swearing, drinking, and a big lack of editing.

You saw him drumming to a crowd of millions screaming. The way his hands could trip around and flexibly turn to hit every tip of a drum at a moment's notice made them crazy. His face was a little dark, his eyes shining. Women especially loved it when he leaned to the microphone and let out a voice that though meant to harmonize had a seductive, raspy quality.           

You heard more often that voice complaining about how the electricity went off so he couldn’t make soup. Then his other roommate said it was because of the electricity bill. So then you both let them settle for toast.

That same roommate, he was of average height. You remembered his dark, shiny bob that flounced when he walked. His clothes were often decked in deep, jewel tones and in velvet-like fabrics. Now his hair was short. His clean face was a curt mustache. His luxurious feathers and faux furs, hiding a skinny, hungry body was now replaced by tight shorts, wife beater shirts displaying muscular arms.           

He was singing a slow, heartfelt song. The more you listened to it, the more you wanted to cry. You even felt a few tears escape your eyes every time you looked toward the drum section.           

Too much love will kill you Just as sure as none at all It'll drain the power that's in you Make you plead and scream and crawl And the pain will make you crazy You're the victim of your crime Too much love will kill you every time

 No…no I can’t, I won’t think of it…

You thought the singer couldn’t be that other roommate you had a while ago. Though his voice could not lie, and especially not his teeth.

“That was our brilliant Rog, on the drums!” Fred announced.

 Roger stuck up his yellow head and bowed a little.

“He’s a bit tired, but doing his best! Saving his energy for later tonight, ladies!” Fred commented with a cheeky wink.

“Roger, get up!” you urged, creaking his door open.

“Nooooooooo” cried a lump covered by red bedsheets.

“You have work!”

“Don’t wanna”

“How old are you?”“

“You’re not my mum, Y/N!”

“Okay, do you want to be thrown out and live in a car?”

“Wouldn’t be too bad!”

“You huffed and went out to the kitchen. It was about to be opening hours for the stall. But yet…the empty beer bottles on the floor had provided at least half of the owners of that stall a hangover preventing them from that basic necessity of getting up.

“Well, Rog, it’s your decision…”

“Wait!”You heard footsteps scramble up and then his yellow head poked out to you.

“Could you get me some water? And medicine first, please?” he asked.

There was something about his shining blue eyes and the way he bit his lip when he asked that made a no impossible.

The guard would normally not let a single person in. But most performers on stage didn’t tap his shoulder asking him to let the person in.        

    Thankfully, Roger had good timing. The guard tipped his hat and undid the ropes as you walked in.       

     Roger yelled out your name and you hugged him at once. He took in a deep breath, feeling that even your smell had not changed. You felt the sweat on his body from performing and tried not to stare that his black shirt was now open and bare.           

 “Oh my god…how are you! I never thought…oh my god” he just kept repeating. He escorted you backstage, swinging an arm over your shoulder.          

  “I thought the pass would never work” you confessed, looking down at the large ticket with Roger’s own hand.         

   “But it’s my hand, I thought he’d let you through.”          

  “I doubt it! Something like this is really easy to fake!” you answer, wagging it in front of his face.           

 Roger grinned halfway, his teeth showing.

 “Doesn’t matter, I’ve missed you so much!”           

 “Me too…” you confessed, your eyes glanced down to the floor in a sudden bout of shyness with Roger’s following.         

   “Wanna meet the others? Fred will absolutely lose it!” Roger suggested.            As you nodded, he grabbed your hand and led you away. That grip hadn’t changed much.

           “Y/N! Get over here, you’re crying! ”Roger insisted, yanking your hand closer.

             You waddled forward, wiping away your tears, feeling much younger and weaker than you really were. It was the sort of cry that you could not contain or hide no matter what you did. You felt ashamed, Roger was not a sap in any way.

              He sat you down on the couch and draped one of the blankets over your shoulders. You noticed it was a purple blanket with an eastern pattern on it. That was Fred’s favorite. The one he always claimed when it got colder.

              “Roger, where’s Freddie?” you asked gingerly.

              “He’s on a date, he’ll be gone for a while. What’s wrong, love?” Roger asked.

              You fought back the urge to blush at the use of “love.” But you pushed it away. That term only meant something if you were a girl Roger brought home. Imagining the sounds of his late-night stands forced you into reality.

              “I…it’s my job. I’m just…so tired, all the time. All I do is work and then when I get home it never ends, I work some more…I’m just tired!” you confessed. You pulled the blanket closer around you. It smelled a bit like Fred’s shampoo.

              “You’re just tired, Y/N. You’re a harder worker then I or Fred combined. You need to rest.”

              He listened to your rants and got up to get water. Not an offer to smoke anything. No vodka. Just water.

              But it was the best tasting water you had ever had. And he listened to everything.

The car stopped and you both hopped off at the diner. It was not a fancy place. Dirt-cheap. The sign had bright neon letters that sometimes flickered a little like the night stars. Who would have known that the drummer of one of the most renowned bands of all time would go there?

“I…I haven’t eaten here in years.” You say gingerly. 

You ordered a hot chocolate and french fries for two for the cold night after you sat down.

“I know it’s your favorite,” Roger cooed with a half-grin. “And I’m always deep in the back, anyway. You can only see a bit of my head if you squint.”

 “You always seem to know me well” you praise him. You pick up a spoon to start eating the whipped cream on your hot chocolate but notice it’s dirty. Grimacing, you set it down.

           You woke up late that morning. Last night, you had been up, crying. You were getting older and about to spend a birthday alone. Your family couldn’t do anything, your friends were busy and you didn’t want to busy them. You delayed getting out of bed for a long time.

          But as you walked into the kitchen, there was a blue vase filled with the most bright, beautiful sunflowers you had ever seen. Your breath was hitched. Moving aside the gifts you found a note.

         “Happy birthday love! We had to run to get to the stall on time! But enjoy the gifts! It will be a long day, but your boys will be back to hug you soon! Let’s go out tonight, we promise!

         Your loves,

         Roger and Freddie.”

        That was the last time you really ate at a restaurant with Roger was that birthday dinner with Fred. They both brought up what pennies they could just to take you to a nice-ish place where the napkins were clean and the food didn’t look a week old. Eating just enough for your high waisted pants to feel only slightly tighter. 

         Then they both practically pulled you out to a club. Music and cheering drowned in your ears. The alcohol burned your throat as you inhaled your second shot and raced Fred to the dance floor. A disco dipped above you, glimmering all over your hands in a way that made you seem spotted. Little flecks traveled from across the floor to even the ends of your silk top. 

         You and Fred almost swung dance, nearly cheek-to-cheek like in one of those old movies Freddie was addicted to. Roger only made a fake gagging noise at the suggestion of it. But he insisted on a dance with you too. Despite the pain starting to ache from your heeled shoes, you nodded yes. 

         It wasn’t a slow song, in fact, it was very fast. But at one point Roger put his waist around yours for a minute and you didn’t object. The next morning, you didn’t even bring it up.

Roger folded his hands and looked at you, beneath his brows were those two blue eyes that still made you a little weak inside to this day. You sat next to a window darkened with the freezing winter night.

Why were you so weak? Maybe you wouldn’t be in this position if you were stronger if you could just go right now to a payphone, dial the number and tell him…

 No, not yet.

“You always knew all my favorites. Like remember my birthday?” you asked.

He bit his lower lip. “Yeah, I do. Doesn't feel like a decade, does it?” he said.

The hour was filled with the band and Roger. His now ex-wife, his children, the music videos with the most ridiculous costumes.

“But what about you? I must know, Y/N! I’ve missed you so much, I…”

“Roger, I got a proposal. And I have to answer him by morning.” You blurt out.

There is a bit of silence.

“Really? Was it the fellow you left us to live with?” he asked, he went from leaning in his chair to getting closer to your face.

“No, it’s someone else” you answer. You wrap your hands around your mug for a last bit of warmth. Chewing your lips nervously, you wait for Roger to respond.

Roger looks out the window and then his eyes dart around, looking for an answer.

           “But Y/N, are you sure about this!” Roger asked, just at the step of going into your room.

            “Yes! The rent will be cheaper! You guys needn’t worry about me, I’m not dropping off the face of the planet, I’ll be a phone call away!” you swear, laughing as you toss in a few socks into your luggage.

            “But who else is Fred gonna dress up and swing around bars!?” he whined, taking a few steps with a shyness odd for him.

            “You of course. Everyone thinks you’re a girl anyhow!” you tease as you look up for him.

            Roger huffs, drawing a hand to his chin to examine for masculine scruffiness.

“Well, do you wanna marry him? Is he the love of your life?” he questions.

 You look down into your empty mug. Words are forming at the tip of your tongue and they gurgle out.

 “I…I don’t…I don’t know.” You stutter. “I know it’s what he wants. He tells me it’ll make him the happiest man in the world if I say yes...”

 “And you have to answer by morning?” Roger then adds on. You notice his hand has slid across the table and has balled into a fist.

  “He’s an impatient guy and…I…I didn’t want to hurt him. I…” tears start to well up before you can stop them. You feel idiotic to let it spill in front of a person you know isn’t emotional, but it seems like your id has taken the wheel, driving it further into chaos.

 “I didn’t want to be the bitch that broke the man’s heart!” you confide.

 You pitifully reach for papery napkins as half-useful tissues as Roger pats your hand and shushes you. A concerned waitress wonders if you are alright and Roger only orders for a glass of water. You feel her maternal hand rest on you for a bit until your water arrives.

It’s ice cold. Shivering, you gulp it down and put on your jacket. But the water has chilled your whole body and walking out into the February air was not an improvement. So Roger’s arm looping around you felt welcome.

You savored his touch. His musky smell, even if it was mixed with sweat. This was probably the last hour you would ever have with him. 

“I got something that'll make you feel better! Have you noticed the backseat of the car?” he chirruped, wagging his eyebrows.

 “No” you whisper.

 “Good”

 Roger opens his jacket to reveal three sunflowers.

 “I know they’re your favorite,” he says.

 Your smile keeps growing. But your words pop out before you catch them.

 “The thing is..it’s him I don’t love, it’s you! It’s always been you!” you finally burst out.

Rogers grasp lets go and he dropped the flowers, swearing and scrambling to get them up.

“Then…well…uh…” his face kept switching between pale and pink. “Just…how long?”

“I have loved you since I agreed to move in with you. I have loved you from the moment I kept waking you up to work because I was scared for you, from when you gave me those birthday gifts when you hugged me. And yes, I moved out, but all I could think of was you. All those embraces, I still feel them, but you were in a band! Getting famous! And most of all, women were all over you! Why would you even choose me?” you blurt, tears welling up from years of silence.

You pause a bit. 

Before Roger could even say another word you shush him and finish.

“It’s just...I know you don’t love me...and saying goodbye to you is always the hardest thing in the world to me.” you mourn, finally letting the tears win. 

He shushed you and then guided you to the car and drove you home. But as soon as you were home, a phone rang. Roger walked over to answer it and heard a deep, masculine voice croak.

“Have you made your mind up, cunt?”

Roger almost couldn’t answer.  His jaw dropped and his grip on the phone tightened.

He squeaked out “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded almost like his falsetto melismas. And it seemed the guy thought that it was you because his voice was rising to where you heard every word even though it wasn’t on speaker.

“No, you’re not. You’re playing a game with me. And I’m fucking done. So tell me, are you gonna marry me or not? I know damn well what the answer is. So let’s spit it out and start planning, okay? We have a damn wedding to get through. Isn’t your pretty princess wedding what you’ve wanted?” he threatened. 

Roger stood up straighter and switched to his normal voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N’s boyfriend now. She’s dumped you. And the answer is no. Don’t talk to her again or else you’re a dead man walking.” Roger growled before hanging up the phone.

The next morning you woke up normally. It seemed normal in your house. But looking at the blond head turning over to smile at you was an exception.

“Shit! Yesterday was Valentine's Day! I completely forgot! I just gave you some sunflowers, not a real present!” Roger cursed, he brought up his hands to rub the sand from his eyes.

“You’re my present, Rog!” you insist, giving him a peck on the cheek. He smiled and opened his arms to let you snuggle in.

Looking over at the sunflowers next to you, they seem even fresher and brighter than yesterday. Their white vase makes their yellow brighter. The big black centers have even turned towards the sun making it’s daily journey above you to the east. 

“Got anything today?” he asked sleepily, rubbing your back.

“No, but...I’m a bit hungry. Can I cook you some stuff today? I have some bacon and eggs...I can show you how to make an omelet. It’s not hard at all.” you suggest.

The golden light of the morning crept in, though the room still felt cold with winter air from outside.

“I was remembering what you said that saying goodbye was the hardest thing…” he began.

You nodded, letting your headrest to feel his heartbeat go faster.

“Well, now you’ll never have to…” Roger whispered.  “Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

[stellarboystyles]

make a move - Q & A

sweet baby ira thank you for tagging me in this, you are a rainbow in a sea of dark clouds <3

here are some questions, answered by harry from make a move !

1. How do you display affection? What’s your love language? i think it’s a mix between physical touch and quality time. like when we take a walk and she’s holdin’ m’hand, or when she brushes her nose against m’cheek when we cuddle, or when she hugs me from behind at work...sometimes she squeezes m’bum while m’tryin’ to mix drinks, quite like it, though...don’t tell her i said tha’.

2. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? always looked after my mum when she was sick, was always worryin’ about her so i think i’m a bit protective, maybe too much at times. y/n is so light and breezy, loves to go on adventures and m’learnin’ how to keep up.

3. What is your ideal Saturday morning? snugglin’ with m’sleepy girl in our bed (never gonna get used t’sayin’ tha’, am i?) and jus’ lovin’ on my baby before we get up n make breakfast together.

4. What is your drink of choice? Nonalcoholic? Alcoholic? y/n started makin’ me juice and smoothies...makes me never wanna drink alcohol again. but there’s this really nice wine from napa that we serve at the bar and sometimes y/n and i take a bottle upstairs for date night.

5. How competitive are you? m’pretty chill when it comes to tha’ sort of thing. y/n loves to beat me at mario kart, ONLY because i let her win...

6. When did you last have sex? Feel free to describe if you feel comfortable. erm, well...last night y/n and i were closing and i may have bent her over one of the tables.

7. What is your idea of a perfect date? ‘ve always wanted t’go to the ocean, y/n says it’s lovely...i think i’d like to propose there, someday.

8. What is your most treasured possession? y/n gave me a pendant for m’birthday, says it’s a crystal with calm energy to help me stop worryin’ so much. she’s so thoughtful, m’very lucky <3

9. Would you ever get a tattoo? Do you have any? i’ve got quite a lot...but i might get more, who knows?

10. Do you believe in love at first sight? Have you experienced it? when i talked with y/n for the first time...i didn’t know it yet, but i was hopelessly in love.

Rules: Choose a few favorite photos/aesthetics of your tagged character, answer the questions below from their point of view, and tag some characters/authors you would love to see answer next!

this was so much fun !! 

i tag // harry from cherry flavored sin by @avhrodite​ / harry from desert by @bfharry​ / harry from sugar & spice by @iconicharry​ / y/n from turpitudinem by @toothpastekissy​ / harry from i’ve just seen a face by @smokeinherperfume​

i can’t wait to see everyone’s q&a’s !!

[redfoxwritesstuff]

I’m Back (Tom Hiddleston x ofc 18+)

Good morning, Loves. You’ve made it. Are you excited? Got your water ready? Good, because she’s here and waiting for you. Almost 11k words and a lot of smut.

Buy me a Ko-fi and contribute to my birthday trip to NYC to see Betrayal.

Part 1 is here- not really required reading and the Masterlist is here

Warnings: Dub con, Succubus, unprotected sex, oral sex (Male and female both receiving), aggressive blowjobs, hair pulling, rough sex, choking, public masturbation, occult rituals 

Summary: She’s back and she’s hungry. This time however, she’s still riding on the sustenance from her last meal. Mothers always tell their children not to play with their food but Lilith never had a mother to teach her that and has every intention of playing with her food while he finishes his day of Convention events.

I’m Back

The gaggle of teenage girls giggled as they gathered around the bright screen in the dark basement room. A laptop was perched on a table, playing the latest interview. The man on the screen was one they adored with that pure and somewhat scary fever only possible by young girls only beginning to discover the power hormones and sexual desire can hold over their hearts, minds and sanity.  

On the screen, the long legged object of their desire smiled. His voice filled the room. They would describe it all differently, if asked. They hadn’t had the years and maturity to really give voice to what it was about the voice that made them weak in the knees.  

They’d been sipping at a bottle of too sweet Koolaid spiked with vodka from the ringleader’s parent’s bottle. In true teenage fashion, the difference in volume was masked by water. Someday, when they were older, they would understand how that failed to fool anyone. On this night all they knew is that’s what the cooler teens in the movies did, so that’s what they did.  

The interview came to an end and there was a debate over what to do next. They could re-watch any number of his past films. They could marvel upon his clean shaven face and how young he had looked in older films they didn't care for otherwise. They could take in the way pale skin and insanity somehow complemented his features in superhero movies they only watched for him.  

What they wanted to do was go out to the theater again and see his newest movie, ‘Black Death’ yet again. It was something so unlike many of his prior films. It was steeped in mystery and the supernatural while dripping in murder and detective goodness. They’d already seen the movie five times as a group. After having spent the day at prior day one of Comic Con in New York City, they didn’t have a penny between them. Travel was expensive and after begging for a group trip nearly across the country for just one day- none of their parents were likely to humor them.  

“Do you remember the ritual?” One of the girls, brown curls in a mess of fuzz and words slurring from the spiked Koolaid.

“Yeah, how could we forget!” Another girl laughed, her tight curls bouncing around her head as she swayed.  

“He looked so sexy tied to the chair during it- is that weird? Like- am I weird for that?” Asked the blonde. She found it important in the moment to question what it was okay to find attractive in the way youth do, only beginning figuring themselves out.  

“He totally did!” The last girl rocked back where she sat, falling onto her back.  

“We should do it.” The brunette perked up after a long drink of Koolaid.

“Do what?” The blonde asked, reaching for the bottle and pretending her small sip was actually a deep drink.  

“The ritual.” Brunette was standing and rummaging through the shelves in the back of the basement. Bubble mix and all manner of outdoor toys had been stored away for the impending winter. With a cheer of victory she pulled out a box of chalk. “Let’s do it. Just to see if we remember it.”

“Who would sit in the center?”

“We can put Tom in the center.” Spoke the girl with the dark tight curls, rummaging through her bag. The excitement was catching. “The spell, it was to turn the detective to their side right? What if we turned Tom to our side?”

“You can’t think it would actually work- it’s a movie.”  

“My mom,” Started the girl still resting on her back on the ground, long slick black hair spread around her. “She used to say the magic in any ritual is in the intentions.”  

“What is your mum, a witch?” Asked the blonde even as she was pulling things out of the center of the room. “Move, get off the floor so I can move the rug.”

“This is dumb, it’s not like Tom’s going to come and sit in our circle.”

“We have the picture he signed, we can use that.”  

~~~~~<3

“Here’s the fuckin’ ale, now stop you’r bitching.”  

The large, red skinned horned demon slammed the mug down, spilling amber liquid and froth over the rim. He looked almost human in shape but that was where the resemblance ended. She didn’t bother offering him a response as she picked up the heavy horn mug and brought it to her lips.  

A unseen and unfelt breeze twisted around where she sat on the bar stool. It picked up the ends of her fire red hair, waves dancing with the energy of it. Her tail, thin as a whip yet full of coiled power lazily cut through it. Red dust picked up off the floor and swirled around her, settling on the toes of her black boots, thigh high with needle thin heels.  

Light, dim though it was, reflected off the silver threads woven through the body of her corset. The fabric was soft to the touch but the bone ribs did their job, clenching her waist beyond what a human could withstand. It assured that one of the first things anyone saw when they laid eyes on her was her breasts, pushed high.  

The not wind was strong enough to move her earrings, causing them to catch the light and come alive with a million little points of fractured light within the blood red stones. No human could ever mine stones such as these. In the past, stones such as these had been traded for kingdoms, formed with the blood of Eve.  

There was a murmur through the room as the not wind died around her and everything again began to still. Lilith’s red lips, stained rather than painted, curled up into a sharp smile. She had felt it- near attempts at summoning her all day. But now, whoever had called for her had succeeded and she had once again been granted passage to the realm of life.  

It’d been something like a year and a half since her last meal and while she hungered, she was far from starved. She’d gone much longer between feedings but who was she to turn down a chance to roam the earth for a short spell? Who knows how long it would be until she could again see the moonlight she so loved and feel the fire of passion?

~~~~~<3

Tom smiled and waved, feeling the electricity in the air. It was officially announced and as he had expected, news of Loki’s show on Disney+ had garnered him a roaring cheer. Truth be told, it pleased him more than was proper that it was his show that drew the loudest cheers.

He hadn’t been expecting Loki to even get a show but try as they may, Disney and Marvel couldn’t seem to cut themselves free from the Prince. They never did love or understand Loki the way he had. At least a good number of his fans saw it. He had put so much into Loki and for so long.  

The lights dimmed and for a moment flickered out but before anyone could even question anything, they were one again on and as bright as ever. It was probably just a power surge, lord knew they were running enough power through the building with this event.

A part of him feared that wasn’t the case and instead thought back to that woman he shouldn’t have allowed into his bed. He couldn’t remember her clearly and though he knew he hadn’t had much to drink, he couldn’t explain why he hadn’t called the police. There was no reason to think of her now. He hadn’t thought of her much in the last year and a half.

~~~~~<3

As Tom walked toward the booth, there was a coiling tightness around his ankle. Reaching down, he adjusted his sock but the feeling didn’t go away. There wasn’t any time to worry about it. He’d hardly had time to eat, let alone worry about why his sock felt tight around his ankle.

That feeling slunk up higher and higher and he did everything he could to ignore it. It coiled around his thigh as if a snake had been trapped in his pant leg. There wasn’t anything he could do, fans were back to back. Ignore the feeling, smile, sign this, next and repeat. The feeling was distracting, though it was slow moving. Higher and higher.

“One second.” He didn’t wait for anyone to chastise him and though he knew full well it would hold up the line, he gave himself a few seconds to breath.

He had to do something about the way his pants were getting tighter. All he could think of was to yank his jumper down, rather aggressively and smile. Back to signing. Can’t hold up the line. The staff were already giving him looks. Fine, he decided and made a point of leaning forward, over the table just a bit more than he needed to. Bending at the waist, he was able to hide himself as things slowly got tighter.  

Just keep signing, just keep signing. Smile, nod. It’s great to meet you. Thank you for the support. Just keep moving.  

In the back of the hall, remembered by all though that would be unbelievable should you ever ask anyone who had seen her, was a woman leaning against the wall. Her eyes, violet and alive with an inhuman light, watched her prey. Mothers often told their children not to play with their meals but she had every intention of doing that exact thing.  

~~~~~<3

Tom was beyond thankful when the signing ended and he could excuse himself into the back halls. He had only one hour until it was time for the photos and he needed to see to it he wouldn’t embarrass himself or anyone else.

He walked the busy halls, his fingers twitching with every step. Every time someone made eye contact with him, he would pull at his jumper. It was ridiculous, he wasn’t a school boy. His body was simply reacting to something, though he couldn’t even begin to guess as to what. It was natural. Perfectly natural.  

Near the photo setup was a private bathroom for staff. He wasted no time in slipping inside, flipping on the switch and locking the door behind him. Three long strides took him to the sink where he turned the water on full blast. Giving into the urge that had plagued him, he pawed at the hardness in his pants and swallowed a groan.  

He wasn’t some bloody school boy. He didn’t need to have a quick wank in the bathroom of a public building before he could continue on with his day. It would go down on its own. But what if it didn’t?

Rather than unbuckle his pants like he very much wanted to, he splashed cold water on his face with little care of if he got his hair wet. So what if some of the product in it washed away.

“I could help you with that.”  

The voice was melodic, haunting and oh so familiar. Lead balled in his gut as he jerked his head up. Looking in the mirror, there was a woman- The woman leaning against the bathroom door. Red hair alight and a mischievous smile that would have made Loki proud playing on her bright red lips.  

Turning around in a rush, he demanded “Who are you?”  

But there was no one there. He was alone in the bathroom and he could very well see the door was still locked. Agitation was building within him and he shoved his hand through his hair, almost enjoying the way his fingers caught the tangles and yanked. Anything to ground him. He was losing his mind. He was sure of it.  

Thin arms reached around him, hands slipping under his jumper causing him to jump clear out of his skin. He looked down to see nothing, no arms and no hands. Turning back toward the still running sink, he closed his eyes tightly. Gripping the end of the sink, he told himself over and over that it wasn’t real. He was alone. There was no one in this bathroom with him.  

Small hands roamed up his chest. Though he couldn’t make sense of it, he could feel as she dragged the edges of her long nails down his abdomen. Muscle twitched and jumped at the touch that shouldn’t be there. Ragged breaths slipped from his lips as a body pressed against his back.  

Now the unseen nails traced up his body, up his chest while one hand was holding him to her. How it was a her, he couldn’t say. The tip of a nail traced around his nipple, circling and teasing. It was a light touch, almost tickling until she pinched it.  

He couldn’t help the soft moan it pulled out of him. God, it had been forever since he’d gotten laid. He hadn’t been with anyone since the mystery woman. That was what the issue was, or so he told himself. He needed release. His hand wasn’t doing the job well enough anymore. It would have to be good enough for now.  

When he reached to unbuckle his belt, his hands were shaking. The action was rushed and he felt relief the moment his fly gave way and his jeans were no longer constricting his manhood.  

“Let it out.” The whispered voice urged in his ear and again he looked around to find himself still alone in a locked bathroom.  

His mind was foggy with need and he obeyed without a thought. At first he was just going to pull himself free but the idea of having the fabric hunched around his base wasn’t one he liked. He hadn’t exactly picked out his boxers today planning on having a raging erection in a thankfully clean bathroom.  

Instead, he shoved his boxers down, allowing them to gather with his jeans around his knees. The air was cold on his exposed flesh but did nothing to put out the fire raging under his skin.  

Wrapping his fist around his base, Tom slowly pumped it. Fine, he had decided. A quick wank wouldn’t hurt. Anything to calm the storm of need within him. He needed to calm it for now, so he could finish his day. After, after he could find someone to take to bed. After.  

His eyes fell closed for a moment and he signed in relief. The phantom hands were back, resting on his thighs and roaming around to grip his ass. When he cracked open his eyes again, he could see the red headed women who had been at the door before. She was kneeling on the ground with seeming disregard for the fact that it was a bathroom floor.  

The hands belonged to her but he couldn’t think about that now. All he could see, all he could focus on was how his need only became greater with her violet eyes looking up at him. Her red lips parted and pink tongue running along the top lip made for a sinful sight.  

Faster and faster, he worked his hand over his length, his eyes falling to slits as he watched her. His mind didn’t work, didn’t process or retain what was happening.  

She stilled his hand with her own and leaned up. With pure reverence she ran her tongue along the underside of his length. His knees were weak and he had to hold himself up with the sink behind him. Warmth surrounded him as she sucked him into her mouth. Down, down she went, taking every inch of him in a way he’d never seen another woman manage. Sharp teeth scratched at him as he passed into her throat. He could feel every swipe of her tongue, every twitch of her muscles as she swallowed around him.  

He moaned as she pulled back, painfully slow. Reaching forward, he tangled his hand in her hair and guided her back down his length. Her hair was even softer than her mouth. As her nose nestled into the patch of coarse curls at his base without even so much as a gag, he pulled her back and off.  

Her mouth hung open, ready for him to fill it again. Begging for him to fill it with his cock and who was he to make her wait? Down again, she swallowed him easily as he began to fuck her mouth. Harder, faster. Panting moans slipped from his lips though he tried so hard to hold them in.  

Just a moment more. Only a little more. So close. God she felt so good, whoever she was. Right there. A groan ripped from him, low and guttural as a knock sounded at the door, jerking him out of the fog as he spilled hot ropes of seamen over his fast working fist. He was alone.  

“Tom, mate? You in there? Photos in five.” Luke’s voice called through the door.  

“Y-yeah.” He had to clear his throat and tried twice to get the word out.  

“You okay?”  

“Fine.” Tom looked around as he softened in his hand. What was he, a boy? How ridiculous was this, caught having a wank in the bathroom. Somehow, he’d burned through almost an hour- how he couldn’t imagine. “I’ll be right there. Have a coffee waiting for me?”  

“Sure thing. Get your head on and face the masses.”

Tom held his breath for a few moments, waiting to make sure Luke was really done and gone. Looking around, he spotted the paper towels and shuffled around his mess toward them. After tossing a few onto the mess at on the floor and wiping his hand down, he had to turn his attention back to the mess he had made of his person.  

Feeling completely ridiculous for being in this situation, he wiped himself with a damp paper towel. It was quick work, removing traces of his seed from his thighs where he must of flung it off his hand in his hurry. Once that was done, he set to work cleaning the mess from where it had spilled onto his dark jeans then the floor.

~~~~~<3

The first hour of photos had gone well. He was relaxed and at ease. It seemed as much as he had been against it, having that wank had helped get whatever that was out of his system.  

It was in the second hour that the tightness around his leg began again. It moved faster now and he did everything he could to focus on the fans. It pained him when a woman would come for her photo, wearing a costume that hardly covered anything. He’d give them a hug, most of them wanted a hug and he tried so hard not to think about how their bodies pressed into him or how they felt in his arms.  

Within thirty minutes of the tightness starting around his leg, it felt as if some coiled thing was caressing his thigh. He tried to ignore it but as one fan was replaced by another, higher it crept. He would paw at it, scratch at it in the few short seconds when one fan was being shown out before the next one was brought in.  

The tightness was building again in his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to hide away and end the photo session early. A new fan was brought in, young and blonde. She was short, so short that when he looked down at her, he could clearly see her breasts down her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra and the shirt didn't do anything to hide her from his gaze. That feeling in his leg moved just a little higher as the woman wrapped her arms around him.  

She told him her name and he couldn’t be bothered to remember. Her dress was short and with her arms reaching up around his neck, it drew even higher up her thighs. That thing, wrapped around his leg was coiled around him now. It was caressing his balls in a way that nothing should have been able to while he was wearing tight jeans.  

His pants got tighter as she explained that she wanted her photo of him holding her from behind. She moved into place and he wrapped his arms around her small frame. For a moment, an impulse surfaced to cup her breast, it wouldn't fill his hand but looked so soft and warm but he fought it off.  

Instead, he pulled her to him and swallowed a moan when her back pressed against his crotch. His jeans were far tighter than they had any right being.  

“Like this?” He asked, his voice heavy. He hoped she wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t question it.

“Yeah.” She nodded, not noticing how he looked down at her and completely unaware that he could see down the top of her dress. He could see the way her nipples pebbled against the fabric of the dress, unaware of the war within him. The neckline was low and wide and from his vantage towering over her, she may as well not be wearing it.

He would have gladly bent her over the chair behind the curtain and fucked her, if he could have. Instead, he wished her a good day and waved while hoping that it was a smile on his face rather than a grimace.  

A couple was shown in as he pawed at the length of his cock, having tried to shift it to a more unnoticeable place. Tom prayed for the tightness to go down as he faced them. A hug for the wife, a handshake for the husband. Eye contact was hard when all he wanted was touch his cock again.  

He prayed she wanted to stand in front of him or a similar pose but he wasn’t so lucky. They had paid for two pictures so two they would get. The first was easy, though it was painful to kneel, he was able to mask his manhood when he held out a supplied black velvet ring box to the wife while her husband stood glaring from the side. Pictures of a mock proposal, how classy.

Standing was a relief. It felt like the pressure from kneeling in his jeans was going to crush his cock. It was painful but did nothing to calm the hardness. He couldn’t be so lucky.  

The second photo was simple. Tom would sling an arm around each of them and they would hold him. Smile into the camera and pray that whoever was in charge of photo editing would do something about the very clear erection that would show up.

“One second.” The photographer called out, turning to the computer. “It came out weird- going to retake it.”

“Don’t think about how well I sucked your cock.” That velvet voice came in his ear.  

“What?” Tom choked on the word.

“Almost ready.” The photographer called out.

He could feel those phantom hands on him again, nails tracing under his shirt. He hadn’t thought it was possible to get any harder. An unseen palm ran down his thigh, over his cock and he struggled not to moan. Whatever it was he was feeling, surely a hallucination for lack of food and too much work, it was going to make him come in his pants.

“Alright. We’re good.” The photographer announced and Tom tried to focus on him. He was an older man who looked to be on deaths door. It was far better to focus on him than the way the phantom hands felt.  

“Remember how good it felt to fuck my mouth?” The voice asked and Tom told himself again and again that he had been alone in the bathroom. There hadn’t been a woman in there with him and she wasn’t there now. He told himself she wasn’t real even as his stomach tightened and he spilled into his pants.  

Luke was going to kill him.  

~~~~~<3

Tom slipped into the back of the black SUV and pretended to listen to Luke. He looked forward to nothing more than getting back to the hotel and locking himself away for a shower. Once he washed away the shame of the day, he needed to go out to a club. He needed to find someone who wouldn’t mind never speaking of the night again and taking her back to his room.  

“You listening at all?” Luke sounded exasperated. The day hadn’t even made it to a close without people noticing he was a bit out of sorts and picking him apart in pictures. There were rumors that he was aroused in them and Luke was wanting to know why it looked that way.

“I’m sorry.” Tom sighed. “Must be coming down with something. Head’s not on right.”

“Well get your ‘head’ straightened out.” Luke’s words were heavy with warning. He would not be pleased if this happened again and Tom understood. It was a PR nightmare.  

“Yep. Understood. Night.” Tom didn’t wait for Luke when the car rolled to a stop.  

The last thing he needed was to risk Luke noticing that his… situation hadn’t improved. The whole drive, Tom had to sit suffering while trying so hard not to fidget in his seat. That thing he had felt coiling around his leg was back. It had been for a while but at this point it was painfully high on his thigh, rubbing against his stiffness.  

Grabbing the first elevator he saw, he was thankful for the empty car and Luke being slowed down by a group of guests leaving the building. Tom took deep breaths as he waited for his floor. That feeling was coiled around his member now, pulsating and he rubbed it through his jeans, cameras be damned.  

The moment the doors slipped open, he was jogging down the hall. It took three tries to get the card reader to let him in. The moment the light turned green, he opened the door while working his belt opened.

There was an urgency in his mind that he couldn’t explain but he needed to be free from his clothes right away. He needed them off. Before the door had even clicked shut behind him, he had yanked his jumper up and over his head and kicked his feet free from his boots. Tossing it aside, he pulled his belt off the loops and sent it across the room without care or thought to where it would land or what it would hit. Warm hands slipped around his back as he unbuttoned his jeans, sending a bolt of adrenaline through him and snapping him out of the fever.  

“Who are you?” Whirling around, he came face to face with the woman he had seen in the bathroom. “You’re not real.”

Her hips swayed as she seductively closed the distance, coming close enough to walk her red painted nails up his abdomen “Do I not feel real?”

“What are you?” He backed away but she only stepped forward, refusing to allow him to put any distance between them.  

“Whatever you want me to be.” She answered, her voice honey sweet. “And whoever your wish me to be. Your deepest desires, darkest wants, let me grant them.”

Before Tom’s eyes, her form shimmered and shifted until the woman standing before him was one he had known before. She was taller now and hair a mess of blonde and ironed flat. Wide eyes were full of innocence and ocean blue looked up at him. He knew it wasn’t her. She had grown and chanced since they had been together, she had moved on as had he. She didn’t want him anymore and he didn’t want her.  

Yet, in that exact moment, he wanted her more than he had ever before.

“What the bloody hell are you?” He demanded, stepping back.  

She reached out and hooked a long finger in the waist band of his jeans even as her form again shifted and shimmered. Violet eyes looked up at him once again as her finger traced the line of his underwear.  

“I’m what I am. And right now, I am hungry and-” Her finger dropped down, tracking down the front of his pants, along the zipper and down the hardness straining against his thigh. “judging from this, you are too.”

“Don’t touch me.” Tom forced out, stepping away and this time, she didn’t chase him. “Leave me alone.”  

“You don’t actually want that.” She turned and meandered through his hotel room as if she belonged there, completely unconcerned. “I was summoned, sent for you. I cannot change that, nor can you. My purpose must be completed, so you may as well enjoy it.”

“Summoned?” Tom attempted to put the bed between them.  

“It matters not.” She shook her head and Tom watched mesmerized as her waves of red hair moved as if liquid fire. “You want me and until you have me, you’ll not be satisfied. Have I not shown you that already? Why fight it? Just come to me. Give yourself to me.”  

“You where there.” He needed to leave. This was wrong. She wasn’t human. It was insanity.  

“In the bathroom? Oh you tasted so good, using my throat.” A moan slipped out of her as she tilted her head back, running her fingers down her exposed neck. It was milky white and begging for him to leave his mark on it.

“Leave.” He demanded again. His voice louder now.  

“I was there, during the photos too. You heard me.” Her tail was swaying out behind her and Tom was very sure that a tail was exactly what it was. The small horns on her head were real. She was real and Tom vowed to go to church weekly from here on out. She was a demon and she was here for him, though he had no understanding about why. “You felt me. Oh what a dirty man you were, letting me work over your cock while you stood for photos with your adoring fans.”

“You did that!” He yelled. “It’s my career, not a game for your sick amusement. Leave me alone!” He was roaring now, praying that someone would hear, come and save him from whatever demon this was.  

“I did.” She purred, stepping closer to him once again as he made a move for the door. Turning, he took his eyes off her for a moment and in that instant, he found her leaning against the door. It couldn’t be possible for her to be there already but somehow, she was.  

“How?” He stuttered out, backing away from her a few steps. Each step took him closer to the bed and each step was harder to make. Absently, he reached down intending to pull his jeans up and button them but instead he ran his palm over his straining cock.

“Was it hard,” She purred, stepping forward as his eyes roamed her chest for a moment before darting around the room, looking for a way out. “to keep from moaning when you came in your pants? Right in front of a camera too!”  

She brought her hand to her mouth to hide the giggle that slipped out. Again, Tom ran his palm over his cock, trapped in his pants. His mind reminded him how good her mouth had looked, wrapped around him while she knelt on the bathroom floor.  

He hadn’t seen her move but she was before him again, slipping her hand under his. Long fingers wrapped around him, gripping his cock as best she could through the jeans and this time, he couldn’t contain the moan that slipped from his parted lips.  

“You want me.” She purred, slipping for a moment into the skin of a woman he had dated so long ago. Brown hair and eyes were highlighted by perfect makeup. The next instant she was in the form of a girl, the one he had lusted over as a school boy before once again slipping into her own skin.  

“Don’t do that.” He pleaded as a shuddering breath escaped him. He wanted to back away but couldn’t.

“Those forms do little for you.” She signed only to have her red lips curl up in a smirk. “No, I think you’re far more naughty than I give you credit for. One taste me from what, over a year ago and now it’s only me you want.”

“How?” He tried to make his feet move as she began to run her nails over him, lightly scratching and tracing the contours of his muscles.  

“I’m what I am.” She purred her non-answer and Tom tried to challenge it. The longer this went on, the more he was urged to question why he cared. He had a plan, coming into his hotel to have a wank and go to a club, find a woman. Was this really that different?

“You can turn me down, if you wish.” As her nail traced over his nipple, he wondered if that was really true. “Seek satisfaction from another. Give it to yourself. But it won’t be the same.”

“What do you mean.” His voice was shaking and heavy. She was so close, he could smell her. It was a scent, heavy with smoke.  

“I think you know.” Her nail again trailed low, down his torso until it caught in the valley where the zipper to his jeans had slowly began to work its way down. “You won’t find satisfaction from another. You’ll be haunted with want, need until you call for me yourself. And I can wait- I’ve got all the time in the world and while I hunger for you again, I can sustain myself on the memory of our last meeting. Do you really wish to do that to yourself?”  

She sank to her knees, looking up at him with those bright violet eyes. He couldn’t even begin to deny how good she looked on her knees before him, breasts pushed up by the corset she wore. Fingers ran over his abdomen as she leaned forward, pink tongue darting out only to run along the covered length of his cock. He wanted to push his hands through her hair and take her but this was wrong.  

“No.” He groaned.  

It very much sounded like a ‘yes’ to her. Lilith leaned forward on her knees and pulled the tiny metal tab to his zipper between her too perfect teeth and inched it down. Running her hands down his hips, she pushed the thick fabric down his thighs and though he couldn’t understand how, his boxers fell with them.  

His cock sprang free and she looked greedily upon it. She’d had many grand meals in her days. She’d been around for a long time, since the dawn of mankind. She’d seen men rise and fall. King and Queens both have fed her soul and welcomed her to their beds. Noble knights and fierce generals sent her to distract those who did raise their ire. And yet in all her time, there were few men who sated her this the way this one did.

“You need to leave.” Tom said, though his voice was rough, strained with need and didn’t even sound convincing in his own ears.  

Looking up at him, she batted those too bright eyes as she leaned forward, reaching out for his cock with the tip of a delicate pink tongue. Tom shuddered as she ran it up the underside of his cock. He balled his fists at his sides and swallowed a moan.

Lilith wasn’t one to be deterred and ran her tongue back down to the base of his cock. Without care of the sparse hairs, she dipped her tongue lower still, running down along his balls before pulling one inside her mouth. She teased it with her tongue before letting it pop back out.  

“Leave.” It sounded like he had a mouth full of gravel in his throat. Though Lilith had meant it when she said she would leave him if he wished it, he had to actually want it with all his being. She smiled up at him, not finding him at all sure enough.

“You don’t want that.” Tom couldn’t contain the moan that was pulled from his throat when her tongue circled the head of his cock.  

The sound only encouraged her to tease it more. She wanted him and he wanted her. It was only a matter of time before he gave in and took what she was offering. She pulled more of him onto her mouth, swirling her tongue around him. He tasted so very good as precum already leaked from the tip.  

Reaching up, she ran her hands over his strong thighs and pulled herself to him. He shuffled back in response, still at war with his need and sanity. She followed on her knees, not letting him slip from her mouth.  

She took more and more of him into her mouth, stopping when she felt him hit the back of her mouth. With wide eyes, she watched him as she pulled back until he popped free. His eyes were locked on her as she peppered his shaft with kitten licks. It was a matter of time before his resolve broke and she could see that moment quickly approaching.

Again, she slipped her head down his cock. There was no rush as she inched down, enjoying the smooth feel of him. Under her fingertips, she could feel muscle twitch and bunch with each swirl of her tongue and she silently begged him to give her what she craved.  

As he hit the back of her throat, she moaned and every ounce of self restraint, every fiber of his sanity snapped. Before he had even realized, his fingers were tangled once again in the too smooth waves of her hair as he bucked harshly forward. She should have choked, part of him wanted her to choke. Maybe then she would leave.  

She didn’t choke however. She didn’t so much as flinch. He could feel her throat tighten before relaxing, allowing him to slip deeper. She shouldn’t be able to breath with the way he lodged himself in her throat but she only looked up at him, wide glowing eyes begging for him to give her more.  

Her nose nestled in the curls at the base of his cock and he held her there, fingers curled into a fist in her hair. Saliva trailed down from her lips, unable to swallow it around him. In a seductive show he was somehow sure was intended for him alone, it dripped from her chin and down onto the curves of her breasts.  

Yanking her back off of him, he expected her to cry out. To finally understand that she needed to leave. If he took her, he would make her regret it.  

Instead, she looked up at him and smiled. Somehow, her ruby red lips were not even smeared and Tom wondered if that was just the color they were.  

“Give it to me. Give me more. Use me, like you want to.” She begged and Tom knew he shouldn’t consider doing exactly what she wanted.  

Using the hand in her hair, he threw her back and away from him. “Get out.”  

“You want me.” She purred, raising up to her hands and knees. “Take pleasure in me.”

As she crawled toward him, he couldn’t help but admire the way her back arched and the roundness of her ass. Still, when her fingertips reached up and grazed his thighs, he flinched from her.  

She needed to leave. He needed her to leave. This wasn’t right. He didn’t want this, though every fiber of his being cried out for her. He should be pushing her away but instead, he was rooted in place. He was powerless as she slowly rose up on her knees, wrapping her fingers around his cock and licking the slit in his tip.

He didn’t think about it. He couldn’t keep thinking. He needed her to go but god did he not want her to leave. Once again, his hand was in her hair and he forced her down on his cock. It didn’t matter in the moment if she was ready or even willing to take his cock into her throat again.  

She gladly accepted his cock with giddy glee as he forced it down her throat. She moaned around him as he pulled himself free. She gasped for air and held her mouth open for him. Again he slammed home. Each time, he pushed her down his length as she gripped his thighs.  

When she would clench her throat around him, sputter and make a show of choking it only spurred him on. Her tail curled around, caressing his lower leg while she pulled tears into her eyes.  

Oh yes, this man wanted a show. He wanted to feel in control even while his control was so very gone. She could let him think he was in control. In order to get him to give her what she needed, she could oh so gladly be what he wanted.  

Spittle ran down her chin, dripping onto her chest and the ground as he worked himself, again and again into her mouth. This man, he didn’t want her to be someone else. He wanted her to be someone he could use and take from. She didn’t have to tell him that she was the one doing the actual taking.  

There was little for her to do other than hold onto his thighs and allow herself to rock back on her knees with each thrust of his hips. His fist in her hair guided her head as he worked himself.  

His rhythm faltered. Each thrust came more forceful. Forever, he would long to fuck a mouth again like he did hers and never would a human be able to take it. She expected that he would spill down her throat again but instead, he yanked her back.

White ropes poured from him as he came with a deep moan that resonated in her core. She looked up at him with those pleading eyes as he spilled his seed, uncaring for the way he left his mark on her neck, shoulders and chest. It was warm and sticky and everything Lilith wanted.  

“There.” He was winded, panting breaths slipping from his chest. His eyes were clouded and foggy. Without a doubt, Lilith knew he thought he was in control but he was so very much under her power. “I’ve used you.”

“You have.” She purred as she ran her finger over the rope of cum just over the cup of her corset only to bring the digit to her mouth. He watched with dark eyes as she swirled her tongue around it, making a show out of cleaning it. A throaty moan slipped from her lips as she enjoyed the taste.

“I don’t need you anymore.”

“Except you do.” Reaching up, she cupped his balls with one hand. Rising on her knees, she nuzzled the base of his still hard cock.  

“I don’t.”

“Than why are you still so very hard?” In a fluid motion, she was on her feet and once again dancing her fingertips over his abdomen and chest. Nails traced muscles in a seductive dance as he shuffled his feet, trying to buy himself some space to breath. His pants were still tangled around his ankles and he couldn’t do much but shuffle.  

Lilith wasn’t one do be denied even if he thought for a moment that he had a choice in the matter. Fingertips walked up his chest as she wrapped her arm around his neck, drawing herself closer to him.  

He was frozen in place. Under where she rested one hand, she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Leaning into him, she let her head rest on his on his shoulder. If it wasn’t for him being naked, save for the pants around his ankles, and the way his seed was smearing onto his chest, it would have looked like a sweet moment between a couple.

When his cock, trapped between then twitched, she smiled. He did not reach out to hold her but she could feel his longing. It was subtle, when he shifted his hips against her but he couldn’t hide the gasp that escaped him at the slight friction.  

He knew he needed more. He wanted more.  

Darting her tongue out, she traced a line up his neck before capturing his ear between her teeth. When she pulled on it, he moaned and at his sides, his fingers flexed as he resisted the urge to grab her. That was fine by her.  

Dragging her teeth, she pulled back until his earlobe popped from between her lips. She wasted no time in getting to work, kissing, nibbling and grazing his neck with her teeth. When she focused in on the spot, just below his ear she was rewarded with a deep moan.

Tiling his head to the side, he tried to put distance between her and the spot but it didn’t do any good. She chased it and kept working at it. While he was focused on her lips, he didn’t realize her hand began to roam until long fingers circled around his cock.  

Two pumps, that was all it too for every doubt to no longer matter to him. His arms wrapped around her. Harshly, he tugged her lips from his neck so that he could devour them himself. It was a harsh kiss, forceful and full of nipping teeth.  

Tom’s other hand set to work ripping at the laces holding her corset against her body. She worked his cock with her hand as she felt the corset fall away from her. His large hands, cold but strong quickly cupped her breasts. Fingers pinched and pulled at her nipples as Tom walked backward, pulling her along with him.  

His legs made contact with the bed and he almost fell back. Wrapping his hands around her so impossibly perfect and thin waist, he lifted her and turned, tossing her on the bed. Kicking off his pants, he didn’t give her more than a few seconds to settle before climbing over her.

Taking a nipple, already standing at point for him, into his mouth, he pawed at her boots. They had looked so good, covering her legs but now he needed them off of her. It took three tries for him to get the zipper between his fingers.

One, than the other were tossed to the side. Tom didn’t even register the sound of glass breaking as one boot landed on the dresser, pushing a glass to the floor where it shattered.  

She reached out for him, wanting to touch him. Though she was well able to feel his need, feed of that need she wanted more. So much more. Harshly, he shoved her hands aside as he sat up.  

“Bloody hell.” He mumbled in moment of clarity while he ran a hand through his hair. He took in everything about her. Her tail curled and twisted along the bed. Pale skin was marred by red circles left by his too harsh grip.  

He watched as she ran her hand over her stomach and up, cupping her breast. Tilting her head back, she let out a moan as she pinched her nipple. He was frozen in place as he watched her run her teeth over her lip. Never in his life had he wanted a woman as bad as he wanted her.  

When he ripped her pants down her legs, the sound of ripping fabric was drowned out by her velvet moans and his panting breaths. It didn’t matter to her and it so clearly didn’t matter to him in that moment.  

His hands were harsh when he slipped them under he thighs and pulled her legs apart. Fingers dipped between her lips as his palm cupped her mound. With a moan, she arched her hips into his touch.  

When he withdrew his hand, she whined. Tom brought his hand to his lips and found her taste to be so much more intoxicating than anything he could remember having. Leaning forward, he knelt at her core.

As he ran his tongue up her slit, she squirmed on the bed. With a firm hand, he held her down, stilling her hips as he lapped at her. Fingers slipped deep inside as her worked his tongue over her clit.  

He worked her close to her orgasm only to withdraw at the last moment. It was beyond clear as she gazed up at him with heavy eyes that he was enjoying the power he thought he had over her. That was just as well.  

Reaching out, she grabbed his cock and pumped him. Yes, it was best to keep him distracted by need so he wouldn’t think too much. It did the trick and he worked his way up her body. He left a trail of kisses and nips as he worked, moving onto a new spot only when red was blooming where he was.  

He lined up with her entrance and without care or consideration for her comfort, he pushed himself inside. She arched her back below him, letting out a deep moan that was perhaps the most honest sound to leave her lips all day. All it had done was pull a matching moan from him.  

She was wet and clamping around his cock. The wet heat was something he remembered from the last time he was buried within her. It was a burning heat that he had never felt with another. It was the most intoxicating thing, more so than even her taste.  

Arms and legs hooked around him as she rocked her hips, urging him to move the moment he was fully seated inside. It didn’t take much to urge him into action. Running her hands over him, his chest, shoulders and back, she urged him on with touch and words both.  

He moved over her, inside of her. As her nails scratched down his back, she pulled a needy moan from him. It was the most glorious of sounds. The pure sexual energy in that sound alone would sustain her for a month. Sill, she wanted more. That was part of her curse, she was always going to want more. Crave it. Need it.  

“More.” She pleaded and he pushed her legs up higher along his waist, hitting deeper and drawing a cry from her as his reward.  

He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. She looked so damned good, under him. Red hair was spread out on the bed, looking so much like flame. The whip like tail reached around her to caress the back of his thighs. The feeling was one that he couldn’t even begin to understand but he loved it just the same.  

She begged for more and he craved it just as much, perhaps even more so. It seemed as if warmth spread out from her fingertips as she ran her hands through his hair. It only added to the impossible fire raging within him. It made no sense but she was simultaneously the source of the fire and the only thing that could put it out.  

Running his hand up one of her arms, he caught her hand and pulled it from him. With a shift of his weight, he pinned it to the mattress after catching the other. Her wrists were so small that he was able to keep them captive with one of his hands, leaving the other free to roam her taught body.  

She whimpered and begged for him, fingertips flexing as more of his weight settled on her wrist. He didn’t spare so much as a thought to if he was hurting her. She wasn’t complaining and that was good enough for him.  

His free hand roamed her body as he worked himself into her, again and again. Pinching fingers tugged and twisted at her nipple and gripped her breast. Fingers dug into the soft skin with bruising force that pulled gasping moans from her throat.  

Fingers trailed down, lower and lower. They gripped her side, then her thighs as he pulled them even higher up along his side. Leaning back, he hooked her legs over his shoulders. The change allowed him to hit deeper, harder as he dragged her arms down from over her head to being pinned at her side.  

One arm crossed over her body, pushing her breast up in the most delectable way. He held her tightly, uncaring of her pleasure as he roughly fucked into her. The way her breasts bounced with each slap of his hips into her, they jerked as the shock wave pushed her up toward the head of the bed. His firm grip pulled her back toward him, each time.  

While he wasn’t going out of his way to offer her pleasure, she seemed to be taking plenty from him. Her moans filled the room as he finally decided it was time for her to come apart. She’d made him come in the bathroom. She’d made him come in his pants like a boy. It was time he made her come.  

Fingers played over that little nub of nerves and she squirmed under him with renewed fever. The moans that slipped from her lips sounded harsher, more honest and drew his mouth into a lustful smile. She had acted as if she had all the control but look at her squirm under his touch. Look at how her back arched and her breasts bounced.  

He could feel her wet cunt tightening, gripping his cock. Against his hips, her thighs trembled. He could feel her whole body winding tight under his ministrations. He worked his fingers over her, though her slick all while never letting his pace slow.  

The moan that left her in the moment where the spring snapped was something Tom would always crave to hear again. She clutched him impossibly tight as he watched muscles contract and spasm, powered by the force of her orgasm.

Tom pulled himself from her even as she still was contracting around him, uncaring about how she whined at the lose of him or the stimulation he provided. Strong hands pulled her up, forced her to roll to her knees. It didn’t matter to him if she was comfortable when he slammed back inside of her from behind.  

Fingertips gripped her hips, dug into her as he moved. Each time he withdrew was painfully slow and yet each thrust forward was harsh. The force sent her rocking forward. It was difficult to remain on her hands and her elbows buckled. Tom didn’t give it any thought as his pace increased.  

With her head resting on the bed, he found he rather liked that sight. It dismayed him when she found her hands and went to push herself up. He couldn’t have that. He wasn’t done taking her in such a barbaric way. As she began to push herself up on her hands, his palm rested center between her shoulder blades and pushed her down.  

With her pinned in place, he was able to take his other hand off her hip, gripping the headboard. It was close now. So close. Just a little bit more. When the force of the thrusts rocked the bed, pinching his fingers between the headboard and the wall, he realized he needed to change positions. He had something to give her, something she was drawing from him in a way he couldn’t even begin to understand. All he knew is he had to give it to her. He had to surrender it to her.

Wrapping his fist in her hair, he pulled her up on her knees. If it hurt her or not didn’t cross his mind in the moment but the action only pulled a throaty moan from her lips.  

“Harder.” She panted, struggling to hold herself right.

He complied, wrapping one arm around her and circling her his hand around to cup her breast. The soft mound jiggled and moved in his hand with each harsh thrust. His fingers let her liquid smooth hair slip free as her head rolled back, resting on his chest.  

He looked down at her, watched the way her body moved against his as he ran his now free hand over her shoulder. Her slick had coated his thighs and he could see where it glistened on her.  

After harshly pinching a nipple, he trailed his hand down and let his fingers slip through her sopping folds. She was so maddeningly wet that his fingers were able to glide effortlessly over her clit. Deep throaty moans left her as she reached up, hooking her arms around his neck behind her.  

Capturing his ear between her lips, she gave it a harsh suck after running her tongue over the lobe. Panting pleas for more passed from her lips to his ear as his fingers found the base of her neck.  

“More.” She cried as she sank her teeth into his neck, leaving a bruising bite behind. “More.” She begged as she sucked at the mark, just below his ear. “More.”

And he was more than willing to give it to her. His fingers wrapped around her neck and he squeezed, just enough to feel the power of the position rush over him, rush through him.  

Even in that moment, deep in the back of his mind, something was screaming at him that he wasn’t in control, that he didn’t want this. Yet, never once had he felt as in control of a moment as he did right then.  

“More.” This time it was he that panted the word in a voice he hardly recognized as his one. “So close.”  

She sucked at that spot again and a garbled moan left him. It felt like the world shattered as his rhythm stuttered and stilled. He spilled inside her, uncaring of the potential repercussions. Deep, shuddering breaths passed into his chest as he held her pinned against him. A purr like moan slipped from her lips as it felt like every ounce of energy was drained from him.  

She was so soft, so warm against him that when his hand slipped from her neck, it wrapped around her waist. He fell to the bed, holding her to him as they landed on their sides. She made no effort to move away as sleep quickly claimed in while he was still seated within her.  

When she did get up, she made no effort to keep the mess spilling from her off the bed. Let him see it and be reminded of what they had done. He shifted as she left his embrace, fingers flexing and searching but did not wake.  

He wouldn’t wake for some time. She had done as she was summoned to do and drained him of all he had to offer. Standing over him, uncaring of the window with it’s open curtains, she watched him sleep. His neck was marred with her mark and that pleased her.  

She was so very fond of this meal. Whatever he had done to have someone summon her to him twice now, she was thankful for it. With one last parting look, she ran her fingers through her hair and straightened the mess he had made of it.  

Grabbing his jumper from the ground, she slipped it over her head and took joy in the comfort of the soft fabric, worn thin with age. Nipples poked at the thin fabric as it clung to her, draping off her chest and falling down over her hips. The hem caressed her thigh. It wasn’t often that she took prizes but she was rather fond of this meal.  

She thought about putting her pants on but decided against it. Standing in front of the mirror, she fluffed the roots of her hair and pulled her tail up under the shirt, wrapping it around her waist. Red marks littered her neck, exposed shoulder and chest.  

A sly smirk crossed her lips as she turned back and walked to the bed, uncaring of the glass under her feet. It didn’t hurt her. Nothing could hurt her anymore. Leaning down, she kissed him softly on his red, parted lips. For a moment, she nuzzled into his neck, thankful for the meal he had provided her.  

Looking out around the room. Lights shined through the lacy curtains. The heavier drapes had been left open, probably to offer light and warmth. It was late and Lilith spared him one last glance as she turned off the lights and stepped out of the room. Her boots, corset, pants and panties were all left where they lay. Stepping into the hall in nothing but his jumper, she pulled the door closed behind her.  

“Isn’t that the room Tom Hiddleston went into yesterday?” A hushed voice from down the hall drew her attention. Lilith looked to the women, clearly guests of the hotel who had been on their way back to their room from the pool. “That looks like his shirt too.”  

Lilith smiled at them and held her head high as she walled down the hall toward them. She may have been wearing nothing more than his shirt, she may have been walking with bare feet but still she walked with all the command of the goddess she had been born to be.  

~~~~~<3

Tom’s mind swam as there was pounding at the hotel door. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for a year. Maybe two.  

“I’m coming in, dammit!” Luke’s voice cut through the fog and Tom wondered why the fuck Luke was miffed at what felt like the middle of the night. Sleep fogged his mind and Tom dozed more.

The door opened and the man came storming into the room. “Christ! You could have covered up!” A pillow crashed into Tom’s crotch, making him realize that he was in fact very naked. It felt like he had aged fifty years. “What the bloody hell happened to the glass? You know what, I don’t give a shit. Why are you not dressed? Why are you still asleep, for that matter? You were to be at the convention hall over an hour ago!”  

Luke was on a full tangent as Tom sat up.  

“Bloody hell, what did you let her do to your neck?! There’s no way to cover that!”  

“Let who do to my what?” Tom ran his hand through his hair as he held the pillow to his crotch, fighting to right his mind.  

“The woman I assume this corset goes to.” Luke picked up the offending item of clothing and tossed it to Tom in disgust. “Where is she?”

“I don’t…”

“She’s not here.” Luke announced, peeking into the bathroom and finding it empty. “Get dressed. Casual today. And do try not to get too excited to have your picture taken today- I’ve not cleaned up THAT mess yet.”

“What are you talking about?” Tom couldn’t keep up, even as he struggled into a clean pair of boxers after making his way to the bathroom.  

“Oh? You’ve been too busy sleeping off what I can only imagine was a hell of a bender to get my messages?” Luke raged. In truth, he was beyond surprised, frustrated and confused by the actions of his long time friend and client. “In the pictures from the last hour yesterday, you had a clear boner. Please do try not to repeat it, ever.”

Tom settled in to spend the ride to day two of the convention while Luke lectured every spare moment. He deserved every harsh word and more as pictures surfaced of a the redheaded woman slipping out of his room. She was wearing nothing but his trademark blue jumper. In the pictures, she looked nothing but perfectly human. Tom struggled to understand his memories of what had happened, few though they were as Luke demanded to know who she was.

~~~~~<3

Tag list:

@theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @winterisakiller, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @bambamwolf87, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @wegingerangelica, @myoxisbroken

[manage-mischief]

Ground Zero

Part Two: Freedoms 

Read on AO3 here. 

Summary: Two-shot. Though Tonks had been fantasizing about moments like this for months—moments when the two of them were in bed together—none of them had involved quite this much blood or mortal peril. In which Remus is injured during a mission and Tonks has to think fast to save his life.

Author’s Note: This will be a two-shot and perhaps part of a larger Remadora series. They are definitely one of my OTPs, and I feel like a lot of their relationship was glossed over in the books. This story attempts to place a timeline on some of their romance. It takes places soon after Order of the Phoenix, before the Half-Blood Prince. I envision it happening right before Harry arrives at the Weasley’s and sees Tonks and Molly there. I’m pretty new to fanfiction writing, so any kind comments would be appreciated! (I had to re-upload chapter 2 because of a link issue and because idk how Tumblr works lol sorry about that)

Chapter 2 : Remus recovers from the attack while Tonks tries (and fails) to stay casual. There's only one bed, after all. Past Wolfstar if you squint. 

One minute. That’s how long she allowed herself to lose control. Sitting there, shivering on the cool bathroom tile, she felt like a complete idiot. Since it had been well-established that the universe hated her, it made perfect sense that she had to have gone and fallen in love with a man who she was quite certain would never love her back. At least, not in the way she hoped. She had managed to earn in his friendship, but was sure that, in his eyes, she was still the same immature girl he had believed her to be all those months ago: too young, too frivolous, too clumsy. And, he was probably right. He had been a bloody professor for Merlin’s sake! Meanwhile, she was the girl who would pretend to be professors to pull pranks and end up in detention with a Howler from home the next day.

Not to mention the issue of Sirius. She had never known exactly what had gone on between Remus and her cousin in the past. But, after Remus’s reaction to Sirius’s death, she was fairly certain their relationship had not been strictly platonic. These thoughts of Sirius caused her to shake even more. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks. It was her fault he was dead.

She relived the fight at the Department of Mysteries every day. Her biggest failure. What could she have done differently? What curses or hexes had she forgotten? If she had been a better dueler, a better Auror, would Sirius still be alive today? Surely, Remus had asked himself similar questions. So, Tonks resigned herself to the sad truth: even if Remus felt anything towards her, he would never want to be with the witch whose incompetence had led to the death of one of the only people on Earth he had ever loved.

Her minute was up. Tonks pushed herself off of the floor. She leaned over the sink and stared in the mirror. Her hair, which often involuntarily changed color to reflect her mood, had reverted to its natural mousy brown. Right now, she possessed neither the desire nor the energy to turn it back to pink. With one hand still gripping the basin of the sink, she turned on the faucet. For a moment, she just stood there, listening to the water run. She took a deep breath and splashed a few handfuls of cold water on her face. Returning to the bedroom, she was determined to force any longing thoughts concerning Remus from her mind. Constant vigilance, she repeated to herself, policing her stream of consciousness in order to banish all romantic inclinations. Although, somehow, she was certain this was not quite what Mad-Eye had had in mind when he coined the phrase.

“You should try and get some sleep,” she remarked as she exited the bathroom, feigning a casual tone. “You take the bed. I’ll put some blankets on the floor.”

He propped himself up on his elbows to look at her properly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tonks. You just saved my life. You’re not sleeping on the floor. This is a king-sized bed, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

Great, just great. Why did this man have to be so goddamn chivalrous? So much for ignoring the mess going on in her brain and…other regions… Sharing a bed was not going to make this situation any easier. Maybe if she possessed more willpower, she would have told him no—insisted that she sleep on the floor, or went downstairs to check out another room. But she didn’t. Instead of making what would have undoubtedly been the more responsible decision, she began to remove her shoes and bloodstained clothes to join the half-naked subject of her pining under the blankets.  

The two partners sat in silence for a prolonged moment, both staring up at the ceiling to avoid meeting the other’s gaze. Tonks mentally kicked herself. This was getting ridiculous. There was no reason why she should be acting like a schoolgirl. She was an Auror: an elite wizarding warrior. She ate Death Eaters for breakfast. Surely, she held the capacity to brave the awkward territory into which they were entering. She turned to face him, sitting herself crisscross with her feet on the mattress. “So…love potion, eh?”

He chuckled lightly, relieved at the break in the tension. “I suppose I did promise you a bedtime story, didn’t I?”

“It really is the least you could do. Seeing as I saved your life and all, Lupin.”

“Fair enough, but I’m afraid I made the tale sound a lot more interesting than it actually was.”

Tonks raised her eyebrows. “Spill.”

“In my 5th year, some admirer of Sirius’s—I should note he had plenty of them—gave him some fire whiskey for Christmas. I told him not to drink it. Naturally, I assumed he had tossed it out after my warning. But then, one night, he and I were in our room and fancied a drink. Sirius opened a bottle of fire whiskey, which, as you can probably guess, was the bottle he had received from the girl. We drank it. Needless to say, when Peter and James found us later that evening, we were in quite a state—blabbering on about a ‘Michelle Thompson’ or something like that. We had started a duel over which one of us would get to ask her to Hogsmeade. I had cast Levicorpus and Sirius was hanging upside-down in mid-air when they arrived. Well, James and Peter had a right laugh, but then, being the good friends that they were, used James’s invisibility cloak to sneak down to the Dungeons and fix up an antidote. When I came to, they told me what had happened. Obviously, I was quite reluctant to drink or eat anything Sirius offered me for a long time after that.”

Tonks giggled. “Sounds like something Sirius would do, drink something given to him by a strange woman without thinking. Reminds me of the time Charlie Weasley almost ate a tainted chocolate frog before a Quidditch match. Some Slytherin bloke had them delivered by owl the morning before the game. Unmarked. I had to slap it out of his hand! Turns out it was filled with undiluted Bubotuber pus! He would’ve been out commission for weeks! But, even after we found all that out, he was still cross with me for ruining his chocolate frog! How thick can you be?!? I mean I know sometimes Mad-Eye’s methods are a bit out there, but, you’ve gotta admit, the bloke’s got a point about never eating or drinking something you didn’t make yourself.” Tonks was cracking up, fondly remembering the look of innocent disappointment on Charlie’s face. She snorted. Her hands instantly flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide. What kind of noise was that? She didn’t even have her pig snout on!

To her surprise and delight, Remus smiled and laughed alongside her. For a second. Suddenly, the weight of death hung heavy in the room. Their laughing ceased. The pair looked away from each other once again.

“You and Sirius were close, huh,” Tonks remarked, emotionless. She turned back to face him. He gave a quick nod, still avoiding meeting her gaze. She would not pry.

“You know, in some ways, you’re very much like him. You both have the same devil-may-care attitude, the same penchant for troublemaking.”

She noticed he used the present tense.

“I’d never met him before the Order. Mum was banished from the family once she married Dad, y’know. But if she ever mentioned the Blacks, she would tell me he was her favorite,” Tonks reminisced.

She remembered the last days she had spent with Sirius at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. They had laughed and drank themselves silly, destroying as many Black Family heirlooms as they could get their hands on. She had asked him for advice about her Order missions—not because she had really required it, but because she could tell her questions made him feel needed. She was pretty sure he known then about her developing crush on Remus. But, he showed no signs of jealousy or animosity towards her. Instead, he would flash sly smiles and wink at her whenever Remus was near. “Moony’s a good bloke,” he had cryptically remarked during one of their final afternoons together, after he had caught her staring.

Those conversations with her now-dead cousin seemed ages away. The guilt resurfaced once again, swelling in her chest, snapping her back to the present.

“It’s not your fault,” Remus gently whispered. Feeling tears pricking in her eyes, she furiously blinked, attempting to ebb their flow.

“That he’s…that he died. It isn’t. Bellatrix was after Sirius. I hate to admit it, but she may be a better dueler than the whole Order put together. She would have gotten him regardless, it was all set up. She would have done anything to kill him. She hated him. If it’s anyone’s fault that Sirius is dead, it’s mine. I should have known something was wrong. I should never have let him leave that house.”

“But he was dying there, too,” Tonks replied, her voice breaking. “He was dying every day he couldn’t be out fighting with us. There was nothing anyone could have done. He had to leave that house eventually. I would have done the exact same thing. It’s a shame we all didn’t wise up sooner.”

Another heavy silence filled the room. “He told me you were a good man, Remus.”

Silence again. And then, “He said the same about you.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

He continued. “I mean, clearly, you are a very kind, very beautiful woman…” he trailed off. Some part of Tonks was elated that he had called her beautiful. Another part was ashamed for feeling elated. They were discussing a dead guy, for Merlin’s sake!

His next remark was so quiet she wasn’t sure he had really spoken at all. “He said he approved.”

“Approved of what?”

Instead of responding to her question, he said: “I told you earlier that you’re a lot like him. But you are different in many ways, too.”

“Oh?” She tried to hide some of her disappointment. Was this his way of telling her he wasn’t interested?

He stared intensely into her eyes. “Sirius tried to do everything in his power to distance himself from expectations. He worked very hard to be seen as different, and cared very much about how others saw him, despite appearances. But you don’t feel bound by anyone’s expectations. You don’t care what others think of you. You’re unapologetically whoever you want to be, your own person. You’re unique, Dora. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

She couldn’t quite remember what had followed. An infinitesimal shift of a body. A creak of a bed spring. A gentle kiss. Then more. She briefly broke away. “I think I’m in love with you, Remus.”

He pulled her closer into him, now both sitting up. Their kisses deepened, becoming frantic and hungry—quite unlike any kisses she had experienced before. Careful not to disturb his still-healing wounds, she ran her hands over the uninjured parts of his chest, feeling the lean muscle below her fingertips. She felt his hands respond in turn. Electricity coursed through her veins. All thoughts fled her mind. It was just the two of them, wrapped up together on the old hotel bed. She glanced at him in between breathless kisses, questioning. He met her eyes and nodded. “I think I’m in love with you too, Dora.”

They both grinned as she straddled him, as gently as she could…

Tonks gazed at the sleeping man beside her, attempting to memorize every feature of his face. He looked so peaceful, so carefree, when he slept. There was no telling what would happen when he woke: if he would express regrets, tell her he couldn’t be with her, admit he had made a mistake. Maybe she was a daft idiot for sleeping with her partner. Maybe he would reject her, using their age difference or his werewolf status as excuses for why they would never work. She honestly didn’t know what she would do if he said any of those things. It could be the beginning or the end for them. But at this moment, she forced herself to remain in the present, to remain in the warmth of Remus, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist. She kissed his forehead before dozing off into a blissful, dreamless sleep. Free.

[sprnklersplashes]

The One Where Robin Gets Bronchitis

Sometimes, true love isn’t always epic kisses, breaking curses, fairytale weddings and romantic dances.

Sometimes it’s pushing your girlfriend away from you because you have viral bronchitis but she has no sense of self-preservation and keeps trying to kiss you.

(fluff, pure fluff friends)

Robin buries her face in her pillow as she hears the door close, Gideon leaving for work. On her bedside sit roughly five different kinds of medicine (she’s far too tired to give a real count) and a litre bottle of water, as well as a basin beside her bed despite knowing she won’t throw up. That’s what happens when her best friend-slash-roommate is an overprotective hypochondriac whose Mum Friend instincts kick into overdrive when someone is sick (especially when that someone is Robin, the girl he’s been looking out for since they were toddling around Storybrooke’s playpark together).

She lets out another cough, pressing her tissue to her mouth.

“You look like St Therese,” Hope says, casually as they can with five hairpins between their teeth. Since it’s entirely their fault Robin is in her tired, fevered, miserable state, Robin Facetimed them once she woke up to make them feel as guilty as possible. Now she’s curled up on one side, away from the harsh light of her window, her phone propped up by a stack of books and wearing the cat onesie she bought herself as an early Christmas present, all while huddled underneath her comforter.

“Who?” she asks.

“St Therese. You know, the French saint who died of coughing blood. Her last words in her diary were something like ‘wow there’s a lot of bubbly stuff on my mouth right now’. Or something.”

“Or something,” Robin agrees. “Anyway, I’m not coughing blood. I’m coughing mucus which is arguably worse.”

“What colour?”

“Hope!”

“What?” they sigh. “My dad said that you can tell a lot by the colour of your mucus.”

“Your dad grew up in the 1800s and wouldn’t know what antibiotics were if you threw them at his face. He probably threw little lavender bags at you when you got sick.”

“You know, technically you’re shit talking your future father-in-law there,” they remind her. Robin pulls a face at the camera as Hope slides another hairpin into their black locks before pulling them apart. “And for your information, it was rosemary.” They look down for a second, biting their lips like a nervous child, which in a lot of ways, Hope still is. Or at least in Robin’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Rob.”

“Don’t worry about it, H,” she replies before letting out another cough, making Hope flinch. “Just hope your date with Melody was worth it.”

“It was,” she replies, a pink blush on their pale cheeks. Robin giggles and looks beyond the phone screen to her bedroom door, where the scarf she lent Hope for her date is hanging on a hook. Hope swore up and down last Friday their bout of bronchitis was over and begged and pleaded (and admittedly, screamed a little) for their parents to let them go out with Melody that night for their two month anniversary. They had agreed, on one condition, Hope wrap up a warm as humanly possible. And since their scarf was lost in her Bermuda triangle of a bedroom, Robin had agreed to let Hope borrow one of hers, only after making Hope look her in the eye and swear they were better now. And they did.

And now she’s here.

“Was there a goodnight smooch?” she pries, giggling again. She’s pretty sure the fever is causing her to regress to a schoolgirl.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” they say coyly, only to have realisation slowly dawn on them. “Um… I’m just going to check up on her. See if she’s… you know…”

“Caught your disease?”

“It’s not my disease!” they squeak indignantly, standing up and putting their bag on their shoulder. “Anyways I have to go. Mom will arrest me if I’m late for class again.”

“Can she do that? Is that in her jurisdiction?”

“No idea and I don’t want to find out,” they answer. “How do I look?” They gesture to their outfit; black and pink hair tucked into a deliberately messy braid, graphic t-shirt and paint-splattered denim dungarees with a plaid shirt over it. Complete with winged eyeliner and dark lipstick.

“Gorgeous,” she tells them. “Gorgeous and gay.”

“That’s the look I was going for. Anyway, chug orange juice and go to sleep. Because you look like shit and I don’t want you to look like that. I’ll see you later, Rob.”

“See you, Hopey.” Hope clicks off the call and the screen goes black. Robin puts her phone to the side, groaning as another coughing fit makes her bed shake and brings up more mucus. Green again. Lovely. She pulls the blankets tighter around herself, pressing her face into her pillow and begging Zeus (who she knows is real, god damn it) to just either fix her messed up body or let her go the hell to sleep.

She hates being sick. She always hated it. When she was younger her mum had to wrestle her from the front door, Robin all dressed in her school uniform and insisting she was going despite her chicken pox/vomiting/fever/whatever was wrong with her this time. She can think up a million and one deep explanations for it or she can be blunt and honest; it’s boring. Storybrooke even on a good day, as much as she loves it, is boring with its small town and days planned out to the second, two restaurants, one bar and one nightclub that barely qualifies as a club. But when she’s sick and confined to her bed, she finds herself desperate for anything to set her free, even just to stand in the woods and shoot arrows at a tree for half an hour.

When it’s clear sleep isn’t coming, she pushes herself out of the bed, her comforter still wrapped around her shoulders like her brother with his cape in the Enchanted Forest. She stuffs as many of the pills and medicine in the pocket of her onsie as she can before grabbing her water and making her way to the living room. She had planned to get a glass of juice from the fridge as well, but all she can do is collapse onto the couch and pant, the short walk from her bedroom to the living room having used up what little energy she had.

She grabs the remote and whacks on Netflix while chugging her water. Hopefully, a season or three of Brooklyn Nine Nine can distract her from herself.

It’s three hours later when Alice comes in and by then she’s feeling at least fifty percent worse. Her chest is aching, her throat is raw from coughing and despite the fact that she’s only gotten up once to get the carton of orange juice from the fridge (the glasses are up too high and getting one would involve breaking her blanket cocoon) and refill her water, she’s spent the last half an hour trying to catch her breath. In short, she’s miserable, and not even the human ball of sunshine she calls a girlfriend can make her feel better.

“Good afternoon, the beautiful light of my life, how are we feeling today?”

“I want to die.”

“No you don’t.” She plops down the plastic bag on the sofa and takes out her so-called remedies. “I brought you chocolate… I brought you headache pills… oh, and Hope told me to get you this.” She chucks a bottle of something blue, wincing a little when it hits her face. “Sorry, my love.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “My reflexes aren’t great right now.” She takes a look at the bottle, grateful when she sees Hope told Alice to buy her a smoothie and not some Enchanted Forest cure-all made from tree bark and frogs or something. “Thanks, Al.” Alice settles herself on the couch beside her, kicking off her boots and tucking her legs up underneath her. “How goes the dog shelter?”

After the whole curse business was over with, it wasn’t long before Alice realised she needed a new job. For one thing, real estate in Seattle is a bitch even when it’s a cursed neighbourhood and your landlord is Michael Banks, but there was more. Alice wasn’t a fan of having nothing to do, and she wasn’t used to it either. Her dad had kept her days in the tower choc-a-bloc full of activities (if her old diary is anything to go by, she barely had time to breathe). And despite how good she was at the beignet truck; that was only part time and it wasn’t capturing her imagination like Sheriffing did for Emma or teaching did for Snow. So when she saw an advert for a vacancy at a dog shelter, who was she to say no?

“Oh, it’s fun,” Alice says. “Lots of little puppers. We think Matilda’s nearly ready to give birth.”

“No way,” she says, taking a drink of the smoothie. Nectar of the gods, she thinks. “I remember when she first got pregnant. And you still don’t know who the father is?”

“Nope. She’s a frisky girl is our Matilda.” Robin chuckles and plays with her comforter. Alice turns to her, giving her the big, sad eyes she thinks only Alice is capable of, somehow wise beyond her years and innocently childlike at the same time. “How have you been, love?”

“Fine,” she sighs fondly, taking her girlfriend’s outstretched hand. “I sent some e-mails, I watched TV, I’ve been staying hydrated, I scolded Hope for making me sick-”

“Oh it’s not her fault,” she tells her. “Not really.”

“Uh, she lied and said she was better and then put my scarf around her bacteria ridden neck,” she points out. “I think that makes it her fault. Speaking of, have you heard from Melody at all today?”

“Melody as in Hope’s girlfriend, Melody?” Robin nods. “Can’t say that I have, why?”

“Because if our little Hopey planted one on her then the little mermaid probably has what I have.” She lets out another cough as if to prove her point. Thanks, universe, she thinks.

“You should really stop meddling in her love life,” Alice points out, opening the chocolate she’s pretty sure was meant for Robin and breaking a square off for herself. She then sheepishly hands her the bar and Robin takes it, unsure if she should be eating chocolate in her condition but hey, can’t hurt more than the bronchitis already does.

“I don’t meddle,” she says through two squares. “I’m just… you know… giving guidance.”

“Of course you are, my darling,” she says. “Now why don’t I make you some tea?”

“Ugh, please,” she sighs, not realising how much she wanted a cup until Alice had mentioned it. “Honey in it?”

“Anything for my honey.”

Not five minutes later they’re on the couch together, Alice pressed into Robin’s side. She feels kind of bad for not putting her arm around her, but again, that would involve breaking her blanket cocoon and she’s just not up for that. She can’t even hold her hand since both of hers are stuck inside the blanket and wrapped around her mug of tea.

If there’s an award for worst girlfriend ever, she wouldn’t win it per say, but she’d be a contender for sure.

Alice doesn’t seem to mind though. Not when she’s pressing kisses along her blanket-covered arms and shoulder and runs her fingers through her hair. Combined with Robin’s own illness-induced exhaustion, it’s almost enough to send her to sleep right on that sofa. Alice must have picked up on that, because she feels her lips, gentle and delicate, against her cheekbone and for a moment it’s nice.

And then it’s not.

“Woah, woah, wait,” she says, half wriggling away from her. Alice draws away quickly, her blue eyes wide, and if Robin wasn’t confined within a blanket, she’d kick herself. Their joint curse may be broken, but that doesn’t mean that the after-effects of what Gothel did to her father’s heart doesn’t hang around Alice and bleed into every other relationship she has. Robin wastes no time in pulling her hand out of the blanket and grasping Alice’s softly and gently squeezing it. “Hey, hey it’s okay. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she replies, a telltale flame of anxiety in her eyes. Robin’s thumb moves in soothing circles on the back of her hand, something that tends to bring Alice back to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Alice,” Robin interrupts, caressing her cheek. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. It’s just… this is crazy contagious, babe. I don’t want you to catch it.” Alice’s bad mood breaks immediately, her normal, crazy, wonderful smile gracing her face and Robin can breathe.

“Well you know, my love,” she begins, walking her fingers up her arm. “All that time in the tower gave me a wonderful immune system.”

“Did it?” she asks. “I’m not sure that’s how it works…”

“It is,” she says, resting her chin on Robin’s shoulder and looking up at her, all big sparkling eyes that scream “butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth”. Robin wonders how many times Rogers had to deal with those eyes.

“Maybe. But I don’t want to risk you getting sick. Okay babe?” And that’s what makes Alice nod and settle for resting her cheek on Robin’s shoulder, playing with her fingers gently, linking and unlinking them. Robin can’t stop a small noise of contentment in the back of her throat as she leans against the sofa, maybe, hopefully, finally getting that sleep she’s been craving all day.

Until Alice kisses her cheek again. Exhausted as she is, she thinks (hopes) that it’s a hallucination brought on my her drugged up, over-tired mind, until that stupid girl she’s in love with kisses her again, higher up this time, landing on her cheekbone.

“Alice!” she groans, opening one eye. Alice smiles bright as the sun and innocent as a rose. It’s adorable and it makes her briefly forget what she was going to say. Briefly. “Stop.” Her girlfriend pouts as Robin presses a finger to her cheek and pushes her back. “I’m contagious.”

“I’m sure you’re not, Nobin,” she says, rubbing her arm. “And maybe I won’t mind…” Her fingers crawl up Robin’s arm like a spider and before her muddled brain can register what’s happened, Alice kisses both her cheeks and manages to sneak a peck on her lips before Robin slaps her face away.

“No,” she orders sternly, poking Alice in the chest. “Or you’ll get sick too and I am not dealing with you being sick.”

“What’s wrong with me being sick?” she asks indignantly.

“Nothing,” she replies, taking a sip of her smoothie and neglecting to mention the time Alice got the flu and begged Robin to call the hospital, convinced she was dying. It was only her own lack of strength that stopped her from walking there herself. She turns on her side and looks up at her girlfriend, in all her unruly hair, wide eyed goofy grinned glory. Everything she loves. “Al… please. I just don’t want you to catch this. It’s not fun. Believe me.” She strokes a stray lock of hair away from her face and pokes at the dimple in her cheek. “As much as it is taking care of you, I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Her face softens and she leans into Robin’s touch. “Okay, babe?”

“Okay, my love,” she responds, tickling the inside of Robin’s hand with kisses. “Now come her, let me cuddle the nasty bronchitis.” Robin nestles her head into her favourite pillow (Alice’s lap) and sighs as Alice begins gentle running her fingers through her hair. She feels herself slipping further and further away, the sleep she’s been desperately craving finally coming as the sound from the TV fades to white noise. She makes a mental note to thank Alice for coming over to see her.

If she’s not sick by next week.

Robin winces as Alice lets out another hacking cough, followed by a long, pained groan. She sounds vaguely like a wounded animal. A wounded bunny. Robin came over the minute Alice called to cancel their date tonight, letting her dad go off to his shift at the station. She tied Alice’s hair back and even came prepared, giving her the hoodie she just loves stealing before making tea and switching on the TV for her.

She’s going to be such a great wife, she thinks proudly.

“So you’ll never guess who has bronchitis,” she says into the phone teasingly, sitting on the edge of the couch, her phone wedged between her shoulder.

“Okay let me guess,” Hope says on the other end. Of course she called Hope the second she found out what Alice had. “Could it be your girlfriend who, despite repeated warnings that you were a contagious little bitch, smooched your face like there was no tomorrow?”

“I do not have bronchitis!” Alice snaps weakly, burying herself under the blanket. “It’s just a little cold-”

Robin turns her phone on speaker just in time for Alice’s bi-hourly coughing fit, complete with green mucus staining the tissues.

“Yeah that sounds like bronchitis, babe,” Hope says on the other end of the phone. “I would know. I started this whole debacle.”

“Oh speaking of, how’s Melody?” Alice asks, half sarcastic. Robin clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. “Papa said he saw your Ariel at the pharmacy yesterday.”

“Melody’s awesome,” Hope says flatly. “Melody’s doing great. Don’t worry about Melody. Anywho I have to go. Lacrosse practice.”

“Knock them dead!” Alice tells them between coughs.

“Do not knock anybody dead,” Robin says sternly. “See you later.”

“Bye. Tell your girlfriend she’s a dumb lesbian.” Robin laughs as the dial tone rings in her ear.

“Hope says you’re a dumb lesbian,” she says as she sits down beside Alice. Alice curls up tighter under her blanket, her face barely peeking out.

“Hope’s the dumbest lesbain,” she says, about as mean-spirited as a kitten eating a lollipop. She groans again, so high and so long that it borders on wining, and Robin tries and fails not to find it adorable. Even if the saddened look on her face does tear at her heart.

“Okay, come here. Come to Robin.” Alice shifts and shimmies in her blanket burrito until she’s semi-upright, enough at least for Robin to cuddle her and kiss the fabric of her hood (not her face, as she knows). Her bony shoulders poke against Robin’s chest as she tries to get comfortable and her hand pokes out of the sleeve to take hers.

“You were right,” Alice admits, playing with Robin’s fingers. “I should have left you alone.”

“Well… not leave me alone, per say,” she replies, nuzzling into her head, feeling the wild mane beneath her hoodie. “Having you around sure helped me get better. And who else was going to make me tea and bring me chocolate?” She feels Alice’s smile, despite her burrowing so far into her jumper that only her eyes are visible.

“Nevertheless,” she begins, her voice scratchy and teetering on sleep. “I promise I’ll listen to you from now on.”

“No you won’t,” Robin says fondly, kissing the tip of her finger and tapping it on Alice’s nose. Her face scrunches up and her eyes flutter shut. Her shoulders drop and Robin knows she’s fast asleep by now, but that doesn’t stop her talking. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

[macncheeseimagines]

Could you please do another Arthur Chatto imagine but with a little smut ?? I loved your first one !!

Thank you! I'll think of doing another one, I'm busy on others between schoolwork. In the meantime, I'll post the smutty version of the last one 😉😀

---

Arthur stops and turns back to you, "We should turn back, retrace our steps." He says, breathing heavily. His face a light shade of red and his hairline sparkled with sweat.

You catch your breath and furrow your brow, "I thought that's exactly what we were doing?"

"Yeah, well," he shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, "I don't think I know which direction we came from anymore, (Y/N)."

Your eyes grow wider, the woods around you look all the more oppressive as the sun begins the last leg of sinking below the horizon. The slope you're on gives you a good view of the wooded valley below, it had turned gold as the air grew colder and wind whipped the rustling trees into a swaying dance. It's beautifully unnerving.

The path you were on was weather beaten and barely visible; trust Arthur to take you off the beaten path. Further on, the path snakes its way around the valley along the slopes. Some lead up into the mountains, others lead to the lake at the centre of the valley.

You look back to see Arthur watching you, he manages a smile, "We'll be fine, don't worry."

You surpress a snort of derision, "Perish the thought, Chatto."

He smiles at that, not one he forces in a vague attempt to keep you from worrying - but one of his mischievous grins he so often used to disarm you in the short time you've known him.

He turns away and regards the mountainside. He sighs, then rubs his face - then looks at the path that branches off down into valley.

"If we're where I think we are, that path'll lead to a cabin near the lake." he says as he crosses his arms, his voice shaky as the cold starts to set in.

"And… and if it doesn't?"

He doesn't look back, seemingly trying to peer through the trees and find the cabin he'd mentioned, "I've still got a sleeping bag. I think we'd be fine, but-" he gestures up at the sky, "-looks like it might rain..."

"Well, let's just try and find that cabin then."

"Yeah, I think find our way there. Might even get a fire going."

"You brought flint?"

He grins, "Do you even need to ask?"

The better part of the next hour is spent trekking down the slope and into the valley. The stop by the small lake and fill up your canteens, with Arthur's assurances that the water's safe to drink, "Best to boil it, though. Maybe if we get a fire going."

Arthur even picks up small branches and twigs as you walk. Whether he was trying to assure you or himself of his confidence, you didn't know. His legs are wobbly and unsteady, so are yours. If it weren't for both of your breathing, you might actually be able to enjoy the peace the woods have to offer.

You reach the other side of the lake and start into the woods around it, "Should be here…" Arthur mumbles, almost desperately, "Has to be here."

He stumbles through thickets, often turning back and retracing his steps then heading off in a different direction. You skim the slope to get a better view, but see nothing.

He peers down into the woods in all directions, then breaks into an ecstatic grin, "There! I knew it was here!"

He turns back to you, giddy in his discovery, "See! I told you it was here, come on! Let's go check it out…"

You look down into the woods, and finally find it. A wooden cabin, probably older than both of you. The door is unlocked, unsurprisingly, and opens after a struggle. The cabin is decrepit and empty, and creaks as you step into it. It smells of mildew and damp but is surprisingly clean and dry, albeit slightly dusty.

It has a single room the size of an average bedroom, and a door at the back leading to one non-functional bathroom. There's old, handmade furniture strewn about and an old, wood-burning stove. One of the three windows is broken, so you and Arthur push a bookcase in front of it. You drop your backpacks onto the floor wearily.

There isn't a bed, or even a couch, just two chairs around a small table with a broken leg, a few empty shelves, and a few empty counter drawers in a decrepit kitchen area next to the wood-burner. There are curtains, at least, you close them and secure the door with one of the chairs while Arthur gets a fire going with twigs, old newspaper and some firewood that'd been left behind. He'd also brought a flask of vegetable oil to help.

He doesn't take long, soon he's coaxing it on with his breath and warming his hands. You unpack the food from your backpacks, which is little more than a few energy bars, a bag of chips, two bottles of water and a full thermos of coffee, naturally. Arthur uses his backpack to sweep away the dust and dirt on the floor, then detaches his backpack and lays it down in front of the wood-burner.

He looks over to you, "What've we got?"

"Energy bars, chips, water, coffee. Not exactly a full meal, but it'll do."

He smiles, "Oh," he rummages through his pockets, then pulls out a chocolate bar almost untouched, "I've also got this."

"All we need are marshmallows and crackers and this could be fun."

"We don't need 'em. We can still make this fun." He says genuinely, your cheeks heat up slightly. He's so cute when he's happy.

He sits down cross-legged on one end of the sleeping bag and points you to the other end. You like all your food into the middle and set about to eating something.

The cabin howls as the wind's funneled through it's crevices, producing eerie moans. The sun had set now, and the only light in the room was from the fire. Neither of you wore a jacket and the room began to grow colder.

You snack on the chips and talk with one another, taking turns to choose music on your phones - thank God for offline libraries. Arthur insists on warming the coffee with a kettle he'd found and cleaned in the lake earlier, and soon enough you've both got a hot drink. You smile at one another and share jokes, stories and talk about the news, the world, traveling, hobbies.

Eventually, things get quiet. You look into the fire, watching the embers glow and pulsate. You decide to ask Arthur if there's anymore firewood, you turn back to him to see he's already looking at you.

He isn't staring, just looking - persusing your features with his soft brown eyes. His cheeks were lifted, and the skin by his eyes crinkled - he was smiling to himself without actually smiling.

He doesn't stop when you turn back to him, he just begins to smile softly. His arms were crossed in the cold, and he rested his elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward slightly.

"Hey." He says softly, never losing his smile.

"Hey," you say back, "What you smiling at?"

"You." he says softly.

Your cheeks heat up, you hope he can't see - but you're pretty sure he can - a tickling sensation spreading through your chest.

You swallow hard, but your throat is dry, "Me?"

He sort of... laughs at that, "Yeah, you."

But then he continues, "I don't I just… feel happy? I know this should be serious, we're stuck in the Scottish Highlands with no way to call for help, limited food, and probably have my family worried sick but… I have to admit that this is the most fun I've had in a long time. Just… talking and laughing, eating snacks and drinking coffee without a care in the world. We've done everything we can for the day, and literally nothing to be worried about until tomorrow."

He looks back up at you but he's lost his smile and regards you seriously, "But, I don't think I'd feel the same way if you weren't here. Hell, I'd probably be sobbing to myself."

He snakes his hand up to yours and touches it tentatively. When you don't reject him he takes your hand in both of his; he rubs it with his thumb and looks back up at you, "I'm just... really glad you're here."

You're at a loss for words, but somehow… you find them - and say exactly what's at the tip of your tongue, "I'm really glad I'm here too, Arthur."

He smiles when you say that, "I… I like you, (Y/N). I really, really do. And I understand if you don't feel the same but…" he loses his smile again, his face flushes red in (what you can only suspect is) the realization of what he's just said, "God, I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that, I'm so sorry. I don't want things to be weird between, just…" he retracts his hands and looks down at them.

"Arthur," you say quickly. He looks back up at you and take both his hands with yours, his hands are warm and he unconsciously squeezes yours and traces his fingers over them. You smile, "I like you too."

He breaks into a grin, "Really?"

"Yeah, really. I have since we met."

He laughs at that, "Mum's always said I'm blind to that kind of thing."

You speak for more than hour after that, never moving - your hands in his. Then, you both start to yawn and each chuckle feels more difficult and each smile more strenuous.

"We should get some sleep, yeah?" He asks, stifling a yawn.

That's when you both remember that there's only one sleeping bag. You share a glance, but there's nothing more to it. He unzips the sleeping bag and opens it up. He slips into it and holds it up for you, you awkwardly shuffle into it and zip it back up.

You shuffle yourself back to where you were and face Arthur. He's watching you intently. You lie down fully and watch one another. He brings his hand up from his hip and strokes your cheek with the back of his finger, he smiles as he does - you do too. You bring your own hand up and hold his hand to your cheek.

He moves his hand down to hold your chin, he moves his face closer to yours, "Can I…?"

You nod.

He leans in slowly, never taking his eyes off yours. His breath is warm the moment just before his lips touch yours.

He's surprisingly soft and careful, and you return his kiss as much as he gives it. You can feel his lips tense as he smiles. He brings his hand to your cheek, as he retracts for a second then returns and slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you closer. You do the same, you continue for a little while until he retracts.

His eyes look over you before he returns, harder this time. His tongue licks your lips, and he props himself up on his other elbow; hovering above you as barrages you with kisses and gentle bites.

You smile against him before opening your mouth. His tongue tarts into your mouth, licking your pallet and snaking around your tongue. You moan into each other, and you wrap both your arms around his neck.

He lifts his head up and unzips the sleeping bag, permitting him greater movement. He looks down on you below him, he's panting now. There's something new in his eyes, there's the desire that was there before - but now it's more of a hunger.

He lifts himself over and settles his knees between yours. You shiver as you feel his arousal graze your thigh. He dives back into you, you're both moaning and panting. He detaches himself from your lips and peppers your cheek with kisses, he moves to your jaw, you moan as he reaches your neck.

He licks, kisses and sucks at your neck, "Arthur…" you moan.

You gasp when he reaches your collarbone. You arch your back and hook your legs behind thighs. You can feel erection rubbing between your legs. He moves up to neck and bites you, you almost scream.

"Arthur…!"

You remove your one hand from his neck and guide it to the base of his shirt. You tug it up to his chest. Another bite rips you out of your intentions. You instinctively grind yourself against him, and your erections meet. He gasps your name.

"(Y/N)…"

You tug harder at his shirt, but he sinks away from you and dives to your stomach. He peels your shirt away and you cry out as begins to licking his way up your stomach. His tongue is hot, so is his breath. He prods you with his tongue, licks you and then proceeds to suck and kiss his way up your chest.

"Arthur… Fuck…!"

He veers for your nipple, first you feel his hot breath around it, then his tongue licks the tip and before you have a chance you moan his name, his begins to suck and bite at it.

You can't take it anymore. You tug his shirt all the way you up to his armpits and he finally gets the message. He lifts himself up and takes off his shirt, he immediately lowers himself down to remove yours. He never stops looking at you with that look of adoration and desire.

Arthur pushes you down into the sleeping bag as he pushes himself on top of you. His bare skin is hot, and his muscles bulge and contract in his endeavour to claim you. He pushes his groin in between your legs as he resumes his kisses. He moans into you, then he pulls back and kisses your nose.

He moves to your ear, he licks it and then proceeds to bite it without warning. You've had enough. Your hand darts down and cups his groin. He gasps in ear, but now he's gotten the message.

His hand works his pants underwear off, but you can't see anything. You pull him back to you as he kisses your chest. He hooks his finger in your pants and tugs at it. You wiggle your way out of them. You feel his erection touch yours and graze your naked leg as Arthur hauls himself over to his bag and bring himself back before you could question him.

He has the flask of vegetable oil, he pours some on his fingers. He looks you dead in the eye as he braces his forearm above your head, you're his now… God, his breath, the smell of his, the power he exerts over you now - he's in control, and he's damn well going to make sure you know it.

His other hand brushes against your arousal, "Arthur… please- NUH!"

His middle finger brushes against your entrance before he eases it into you. He lets you adjust before he starts thrust, his whole body ripples to mirror the thrusts of his probes. You wrap wreathe your legs in agonizing pleasure, your toes curl.

He adds a second finger, his thrusts are faster now. His breath mimics his thrusts, and he never stops looking at you. All you see is his face, watching you with satisfaction as you wreathe in agony under him

"Does it feel good?" He asks, he knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it…

"Inside me…"

He looks down at you, his mouth slightly open; but is expression doesn't change. He slowly pulls his fingers out, you gasp and feel yourself tighten as your sphincter contracts.

He pulls you down the sleeping bag, further towards him. You're now completely underneath him. He shimmies into position and you wrap your legs around his waist as you point your rump up. He reaches for the vegetable oil, you pour some on his hand and he rubs his cock with it.

He never stops looking at you as he guides himself to you. Your wrap your arms around his back and shudder as you feel the tip touch your entrance. He pushes the tip in and you arch your back, he lets out a shuddering breath. He waits a moment then pushes down two more inches, then another two - you arch your neck, you feel Arthur's hot breath on it; which illicits goosebumps.

"So... tight..." He almost moans, "Should I - nuh… wait more…?"

You can't remember how long Arthur probed you for, but it must have been quite a while as you felt little pain.

"No… please…" is all you can utter.

He spreads his knees further, presumably to give him more control over his thrusts. Then he pushes the rest of himself inside you, this time you cry out. Loudly.

He's bigger than average, and he makes it count; your nails dig deep into his back and he seems to enjoy the pain.

He's breathing heavily above you, "You're so… warm…" he moans in adoration and a bit of lust.

He doesn't let you adjust long before he pushes *everything* he can into you, and he stutters a breathless gasp.

Then he pulls back, and plunges everything he can back into you until he's almost pushing you up the sleeping bag. His thighs are braced against yours, rock hard in exertion.

Then he pulls out again, and you moan out again at the emptiness. But he barely allows you to before he pushes himself back into you, then out again.

Arthur soon finds his rhythm, pulling out and pushing back in again - only he's increasing in speed now, and his moans wash his hot breath over you as you cry out underneath him.

His forearms are pressed against your sides; hard. Then he hooks his hands around your shoulders to push you into him as he thrusts. Your hands travel his back haphazardly in sweeping, pressed motions.

He pulls out again, and you wonder why he's stopped, then he leans into you and whispers in your ear:

"God, I need you…"

You feel him squeeze you tighter between his forearms, his nails dig into your shoulders and his knees spread out. That's when he rams into you with everything he has.

You scream simultaneously, and just as soon as he was inside you he was out again, then in again. God, he was fast.

He doesn't care about holding back now, his moans flow freely and his thrusts are brutal as he fucks you relentlessly. He fills you for half a second then he's gone, returning in less than a second to rub against your prostate again and your whole body is jolted upwards by his force.

Your legs are wrapped tightly around his thighs, heels occasional grazing his balls. Your hands leave red trails of scratches down his broad back. Arthur's face is stuck in the crook of your neck as he bites and sucks at you through his moans.

You don't know how long he violates you for, it feels like a blissful eternity and you can feel the knot in your stomach tighten as your orgasm approaches.

"Arthur- AH! Arthur- I'm going to… NUH!"

He lifts his head out and looks down at you, his face is red and peppered with sweat. Mouth agape, his face softens as he leans in to kiss you.

"Me too…"

He lowers himself flat against you, pushing your member between one another, hands cradling you now instead. He lets out a final grunt, then he thrusts into you again and doesn't retract. You feel him twitch inside of you, then he lets out a shocked, guttural cry and you can practically see his eyes shut; knitted in euphoria. His body jolts, thrusting hard inside you once more as his whole body constricts and he grunts animalistically.

His abs rub against your member and it's enough to finally send you over the edge into a freefall of euphoric bursts that makes your body convulse and thrusts against him as ribbons of cum spew into you and out of you. You finally cry out and your nails leave behind red fissures in Arthur's back; you're afraid you've drawn blood. You can feel the warmth of your own seed sandwiched between the two of you.

His convulsions and micro-thrusts teeter to a stop among his heavy breathing. Neither of you move, stuck in a state of waning euphoria. Occasionally, you feel him twitch inside of you as he remains paralysed on top of you. But he's decreasing in size; as are you. And soon the adrenaline and euphoria evaporate and you're both left with sweat, a mess, aching muscles and fatigue.

Arthur's the first to move, slowly pushing himself up to look at you; his face is a stark red and his mouth is agape.

"God..." He manages, "That was incredible."

You can't find the words to reply, but Arthur doesn't mind. He slowly pulls himself out of you, you gasp as he does.

He unzips the sleeping bag and sits up on his toes and knees. His eyes drift to you, drinking you in. Above the glimmer of sweat on his chest, his smile breaks like dawn.

[softbookboi]

Spin The Bottle (a snowbaz fanfic) Chapter 3 (last one)

Summary: The Eighth Years are playing Spin The Bottle at a party. When Simon sees that his ex-girlfriend Agatha cheated to kiss Baz, he decides to get revenge. During the next game, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Simon cheats and gets himself and Baz in the closet together. Oh my, what could they possibly do in the closet?

Simon

This is incredible.

Baz and I have never bonded as much as we did tonight. It's just...Merlin.

We were like best friends and he was so nice too. He kept complimenting me and I kept blushing and then he told me to not blush that much and I blushed even harder. He was even making jokes here and there and listening to me go on about the Mage and my life and responsibilities. He even gave me advice.

Course, his advice was to 'fuck them all' but it's the thought that counts.

I just couldn't stop thinking about how we had wasted all our lives by fighting and giving in to the war others created. Baz and I are still children and everyone is making us their pawns in the war. The Mage is using me and Baz's family is using him. I don't bring it up obviously though. That would be a sensitive subject for him, I suspect.

But I just can't believe what a huge mistake we made giving in to the war and the path others had set out for us. We could've been best friends (maybe even something more if he were gay) (or bi) (or pan) if it hadn't been for the citizens telling us what our roles were and plaguing our mind with the war. Even if they still did, we could've just not have listened to them.

I mean, if on the first day of school in First Year, when I held out my hand to Baz, if he had just taken it, then we would've become friends. And when people told us we couldn't be, we would've already known that being enemies would be a waste of time and we wouldn't have listened to them.

I don't know why Baz didn't take my hand. But if he did, then we'd be something much more different than what we are now.

As we walk back to the Mummer's House, he keeps talking about the most random stuff. Somehow, the conversation winds over to LGBT+ stuff.

"I'm just saying, I think everyone should come out, even straight people. It's only fair. Like, just say, 'Mum, Dad, I've been keeping this in for so long, but I can't anymore. I'm...straight.' And if someone is gay or bi or any other sexuality, it should be okay. The people should accept them and it would be alright. It would certainly make things easier for the LGBT+ community, like me."

I choke on air.

"W-What?" I ask. Did he just say that he was part of the LGBT+ community? Is he not straight? Is he gay? Or bisexual, like me?

"Are you a part of the LGBT+ community?" I ask, more directly.

"Yes. I am. I'm gay." he answers and I gape at him, but he's looking at the ground now (the stairs, to be completely accurate), his previous energy dissipated into thin air.

"I've already come out to my family. My stepmother and siblings don't mind, but...my dad's having problems. He doesn't even address it at all, just lets it hang over us as an invisible-but-actually-visible statement. Like how I'm a vampire."

We've now reached Mummer's House and we're walking up the stairs to our room when he says that and I almost trip.

He's a vampire?!

I knew, of course. I always knew. But hearing him confirm it feels bizarre. It's oddly unsettling. He just admitted to being a vampire, knowing that I can get him thrown out of Watford for this. It's either because he trusts me or is too drunk to think about what he's saying.

It's probably the drunk thing but it's nice to pretend he trusts me.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around what he's just blubbering out when we enter our room and he just continues talking about it.

"It's really hard being one, ya know. I get this urge to drink blood so bad that if I don't do it every few nights, it gets unbearable. I don't let myself drain a person though. I would never do that. Just animals and legal game." He flops down on his bed without changing. "It's an abysmal feeling. Being one of those horrible things that killed your mother. And knowing that if she were alive, she'd be disappointed. So, very disappointed. She'd probably kill me herself. She killed herself because she got bitten. There's no way that she would hesitate to kill me."

At this point, I'm just sitting on my bed, listening to Baz sprawled out on his bed. Listening to him talking in a really small voice that breaks occasionally. (That really shows how insecure he feels about this). (It also amazes me that because of just a few drinks, he's letting himself be stripped of his walls, stripping his walls himself, and letting it all go. He's letting himself be so incredibly vulnerable right now).

I am just flabbergasted. I never thought Baz could feel like this. I always thought he was a confident, smart, perfect git. He hid the real him so well that I never suspected that he, too, probably had a lot of insecurities and walls. I think I'd like that Baz back now. The Baz that was a prick. I'm too unused to Baz being open and vulnerable like this (even if it is because of alcohol) to know what to do.

He keeps talking, clearly unaware of the crisis my mind is in right now.

"And Father. He's so strict and old-fashioned. He expects me to be perfect. And that means not being gay. But what am I supposed to do? I know he still loves me but he doesn't really like that I'm gay and he keeps trying to set me up with girls. It's all just so hard."

I finally get my bearings and open my mouth to try and comfort him. But I don't know what to say. What should I say? What can I say that'll make him feel better? I'm his nemesis. (Well, not exactly because of the sudden change of events but something to that effect.) I'm racking my brain for something to say when he starts talking about the last thing I wanna talk about.

"It's even worse that I'm in love with someone. I've been in love with someone since First Year. But I can't date him so it's more painful when my family brings up the idea of dating. Cause then my mind always darts back to him, the beautiful bastard."

My heart drops. Baz already likes someone. Baz already loves someone. And he has since First Year. I have no chance with him. (Not that I had one before.) But what did he say? He can't date him? Why not? I force myself to choke some words out and instantly feel horrible because of taking advantage of Baz in this state. He clearly wouldn't want me to know this. We're not even friends. But I'm desperate and pathetic. So I do ask him.

"What do you mean, you can't date him? Is it...unrequited love?" I ask, wondering which answer will make me feel better, then decide neither. I suddenly feel like I could throw up twice.

"Pretty much. He knows I exist. But we're not friends. At all. We can never be friends because he hates me. I've been a git to him all my life so I can't really blame him. I deserve the pain."

My ears perk up. What?

"What?" I quote my thoughts. Sweet Merlin, what did Baz say?

"I said I was a git to him all my life. It started First Year. He actually came up to me with a hand extended for me to shake and I was just staring at him. We were going to be roommates so I guess he wanted to establish a good bond. But I couldn't, for some reason. I was eleven, I had lost my mum and the Crucible gave me him. I was just admiring his soft bronze curls and his big blue eyes full of wonder despite the shit he went through and the constellations of freckles on his face which I was so sure continued down his whole body and I decided then and there that I would be a dick. I would be a dick to him because I thought that would prevent my feelings for him to expand. But it didn't work. Of course, it didn't work. Nothing I do ever works. I should've just died in the fire instead of my mum. She would've killed me anyway since I'm a vampire. Me dying would've been better for all of us."

I can't breathe.

Baz just told me he loved me. (Indirectly.) Was he seriously thinking that stuff when he was being a git to me? Did he secretly want to actually be my boyfriend and do all those boyfriend things? Is he kidding? No, he can't be kidding. He's full-on drunk. And you know what they say: A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. But that would mean that he thinks about the other stuff too. About being a vampire. About being gay. About (gulp) dying in that fire instead of his mum because he thinks that he deserves it.

He doesn't. Even though I didn't really know this about Baz, I do know that he, in no way, deserves to die. Even before, I wanted to get him thrown out of the school but never die. Even I knew that he didn't deserve that. And he's never even bitten a person. He's not a bad person. Baz isn't a monster. He's just a boy who got terribly traumatized by his mother's death and his father's unsupportive actions about him being gay and being in love with someone who doesn't love him back.

Correction: Being in love with someone who does love him back, he just doesn't know it. (Did I just say I love Baz? Oh my God.)

I snap back to reality and look at Baz to find that he's buried his head in his arms and pillow and is silently weeping. I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces as I hear a whimper from him.

My eyes fill up with tears because of the sudden disclosure of overwhelming information I got tonight and I step off my bed and move farther up until I'm right in front Baz's bed. I climb into the sheets and lie right beside him. I pry him off the pillow softly and pull his head to my chest and cradle it.

I wrap my arms around him. One of my hands rests around his head, running gently through his pitch-black hair (no pun intended), and the arm covering his shoulders. The other hand is clutching tightly at his side, arm wrapped firmly around his waist. My chin is resting on his shoulder whilst his head is buried in my shoulder and his hands desperately grasp my shirt, silent crying turning into small, restrained sobs.

I can feel his wet tears on my shoulder as he nuzzles his nose further into the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I can't help it. I start crying too. I'm not lightly sobbing like him but I can tell its loud enough for him to know that I'm weeping as well.

Somehow, I tighten my clasp around him and whisper in his ear.

"You don't deserve it, Baz. You don't deserve any of the shit life threw at you."

I know he hears me cause he quietens down a bit and starts sniffling. I move to try to change our positions and catch a glimpse of his tear-stained face as I'm lying down on the bed. His bed. As soon as I lie down, I pull him towards me once again and before letting him bury his face in my chest, I wipe the tears off his face and kiss his eyes. We both lie in silence with the occasional sniffle.

When I'm sure he's fallen asleep, I whisper faintly to the darkness surrounding us both.

"I love you too, Baz."

Baz

My head hurts like a bitch.

I wake up in my bed and hear the shower going on in the bathroom and assume that Snow is showering. (Which is weird; Snow showers at night, Ishower in the mornings).

I sit up and look around. Our room is just as messy as it was when I left it. To go to the party. The party.

Oh shit.

That must explain why my head is aching. I must be suffering from a hangover. A bad one. And I'm still dressed in last night's clothes, even my sneakers are still on. I guess I passed out before I could change. Can't say it's hard to believe, I hardly remember anything from last night.

Last night. I remember Snow. Snow coming up to me and sitting beside me and us talking. I remember complimenting him (oh Merlin) and insulting the Mage and joking with him. I remember him taking me home. Then it gets foggy.

Aleister Crowley, did all that actually happen? I think so, since the memory is fresh in my mind. I try to think about what happened after that. Because if I said something stupid, then I am done for.

I get out of the bed and try to ignore the pounding in my head (and my heart), which is proving to be quite difficult while trying to recall what exactly happened. I see Snow's face, shocked, flabbergasted, and I know I fucked up. I said something I really shouldn't have.

I'm having trouble breathing now. I need to know what I said. Now. But I was completely pissed. I don't remember anything else.

I run a hand through my hair and caress my scalp to try to ease the pain but it's not working. I shut my eyes and try to keep the panic attack in. I can't afford that right now.

And suddenly, I remember.

I remember telling him I'm a vampire. And him almost tripping on the stairs. I remember telling him how my mother would have killed me if she were alive, how I should've died in the fire. And him just sitting on his bed, eyes wide. I remember telling him how my father can't support me being gay and keeps trying to set me up with different women. And him looking at me with tears in his eyes, which I'm pretty sure he didn't even know were there.

I remember telling him about the boy I've loved since I was in First Year. And him looking at me with an unreadable expression.

Fuck. I'm screwed.

I also see a flash of someone hugging me tightly. Pulling me into their arms. Letting me sob into their shoulders. And saying something like "You don't deserve it, Baz." What don't I deserve? Did Snow say that? What did he mean? Surely, that can't be him. He never would've embraced me.

I feel tears profiling in my eyes and I try to hold them back. I can't cry. Not now, when Snow's just a few feet away and can hear me easily. He's probably already heard me pacing around. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't believe what I revealed last night. How could I have been so stupid as to get drunk? And where were Dev and Niall?

Just then, I see Snow coming out of the bathroom. He's in the school uniform, hair damp and messy. And he hasn't even worn the uniform properly. He looks like he put clothes on in a rush. He definitely heard me get up.

Seeing Snow standing right there, in front of me, and knowing how I feel suddenly feels like too much and I hate myself for going out in the first place. I should've known something like this would happen. When have I ever been lucky? When has my life ever been all sunshine and rainbows? Never.

He's supporting this look on his face, something between worriment and pity.

It's pity. It has to be pity.

It's all too overwhelming. He's standing there, knowing I remember last night and he's waiting for me react. He's waiting for a reaction so he knows how to pick up the conversation between us.

And suddenly the tears are coming out. I can't hold them back anymore, they're rushing out the speed of a bullet. But I don't make a sound. I stay silent. I see concern bloom on his face and before he can say anything, I turn around and start my way out of the room. I can't stay here anymore.

I hear him call out, "No. Wait, Baz, " and grip my wrist. And the next thing I know, he’s right in front of me, his mouth a few centimeters away. I can feel his breath on me and somehow that hurts even more.

I struggle against him, trying to break free but he doesn’t let go. I can’t stand this. I can’t stay here and listen to him go on about this. I just confessed my feelings last night, and not just that I love him, I also told him about what went on home, and now that’s made me more vulnerable to him than I’ve ever been to anyone else in my entire life. He has intense leverage over me now. My feelings for him are intensive and passionate and vigorous and they hurt. Goddamnit, they hurt so much because I love him more than anyone else, and I just can’t stand here and listen to him let me down and tell me how he doesn’t return them and how he hates me. I can’t deal with that. Not now, not ever. It makes everything seem too real and gives me a sense of reality, of how he’ll never like me, let alone love me.

And these thoughts force me to cry even more. I force out, “Let go, Snow” but it comes out weak and pathetic. I force myself to look him in the eyes and see that his brows are furrowed in worriment and for a moment, I lose myself in those blue, blue eyes. I let go of everything weighing me down and let the emotions filling me up to show on my face and I weep as his face contorts into one of apprehension and woe and awe as he looks at me breaking my mask of perfect control, letting myself be vulnerable to him willingly.

And then his lips are on mine.

The kiss is sweet and soft and slow and reassuring and I can’t help but let out a tiny sob. His tongue caresses mine and his hands are delicately placed on my cheeks, cupping my face as if to protect me. I let my arms sneak around his waist and then go up and run through his hair. I don’t want this to end. Never, ever. He lets out a soft moan and I know I was wrong. I was wrong about him telling me he hates me, and I was wrong about feeling infinite last night. This is infinite. With Simon kissing me like I’m the only thing that matters right now, I feel infinite. Truly infinite. And I just know that he won’t take advantage of me.

We go on like this for Merlin knows how long. I’ve lost track of time. It might be minutes, hours, or even days later when we finally break apart. We’re still practically glued to each other, his forehead resting against my nose. Panting, he looks up at me and says, “I won’t take advantage of you. I won’t hurt you. Never. Your love isn’t unrequited, Baz. Not at all. Your father may not accept and support you fully but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you accept yourself and love yourself. He’ll come around. Your mother wouldn’t hurt you at all, you’re her son. She would never try to kill you, even if she dislikes vampires. You’re not a vampire, Baz. You’ve never drank a human’s blood, you’re not a murderer, you’re not a vampire. You shouldn’t have died in that fire. You don’t know how thankful I am that you didn’t. You’ve been too deprived of love, Baz. You’ve gone through too much bloody shit, and you deserve none of it. You deserve love. You deserve nothing but love. And I’m here to give it to you. I’m not sure I completely trust you, but I want to. I want to so much. I like you, Baz. A lot. So much that I think I might love you. Scratch that, I know. I know I love you.”

Mid speech, I started to tear up again, and by the end of it, I’m bawling. I’m not holding myself back now from making a sound. And I’m pretty sure the people in the rooms next to us can hear, but I don’t care. All I care about now is that Simon Snow is here for me. Simon Snow loves me. And I love him. I try to tell him this, but I’m crying so hard that it comes out incoherent. He smiles, like he knows what I’m trying to say, and just leads me back to his bed. We both lie down and he lets my cry into his shoulder.

I get a sudden flashback of lying like this last night, and I know it wasn’t a dream.

Simon

We stay like that for hours. Literally. By the time we’re ready to get up, it’s time for lunch.

I could tell that Baz remembered last night. I could tell he was freaking out. I could see the tears. But I didn’t wanna overwhelm him so I stayed put and shut my mouth.

I should’ve figured he’d be overwhelmed anyway. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed when they found out that the person they’ve been in love with (tingles) for 7 years now knows about it and they have no idea how they’ll react, considering they’re just standing there?

I couldn’t let Baz go so I pulled him to me and he struggled but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. He told me to but his voice sounded nothing like how he usually is so I could tell he was this close to having a breakdown and was just holding it in because of me.

But then he let go.

He looked me in the eyes and let go. His vulnerability showed on his face and his tears’ pace fastened and he let out sobs. Seeing Baz drop his normal confident and snarky demeanor and then transform into this broken person deprived of love willingly was it for me. I stopped holding myself back and kissed him.

And it was everything. Baz let out cries during it and I could tell how sudden this was for him. Having all his feelings exposed to the one person he wanted to hide them most from. He had hardly had any time to get used to it. I tried to show to him that I wouldn’t take advantage and that I loved him too by kissing him. And at that moment, Baz was the only thing that mattered to me. Not the Mage, not the Humdrum, not Watford, not my uncontrollable magic, Baz.

And I felt infinite.

After the kiss, I told him the things he needed to know. I told him the truth. And he cried even harder. He tried to tell me he loves me too, but it just came out cute and incoherent. I led him to the bed and cradled him once again and stayed for as long as it took for him to adjust to what happened.

And now we’re here, in front of the eyes of every Watford student, holding hands tightly and walking over to the table. Our separate tables.

We talked before we came down here and Baz and I agreed that he’ll sit at his usual table today and then Dev and Niall and him will sit with us at dinner. After he’s told them about us. After he’s told them that we’re boyfriends. And we’ll sit like this from then on.

We decided that since nothing is kept from the ears of the Watford students, and how the ‘Snowbaz’ gossip is still young and jumping from student to student, we might as well basically declare that we’re dating. By holding hands while walking by the tables.

Every student’s stopped whatever they were doing and is focusing on us now. Even the teachers. They’re looking at us with wide eyes and whispering to their friends. I squeeze Baz’s hand reassuringly.

When we’re about to part our ways, I think about how everyone already knows about us. How they can’t do anything to separate us. How most of them actually like that Baz and I might be dating. Then I think, screw it.

And I take him by the back of his neck.

I hear shocked gasps around us and the whispers have increased in volume and amount now. When I pull back, I see the faintest blush on Baz’s cheeks and kiss it, whispering ‘bye’ as I walk away.

As I sit down, I hear his footsteps echo and know he’s reached his table. The whispering continues.

Penny’s looking at me with a smirk and I smile. I already know what she’s gonna ask so I just get right into the story. I tell her about last night, but I don’t specifically tell her what Baz told me, except for the love part. I only tell her that he said personal things. And I tell her that he was only lightly crying today. I meant it when I said that I wouldn’t hurt him, and I know that me telling other people about his breakdown will hurt him.

During the meal, we keep stealing glances at each other and beaming, and I swear a star is created every time Baz laughs.

Yeah, so we were supposed to be enemies and hate each other. We were supposed to loathe and despise each other. We were supposed to fight a battle to the death against each other, him representing the Old Families and me the Mage. But people are forgetting something. We’re just kids. We have no take in politicks. And Baz was right, the Mage is a coward. I’m the one who does the work, not him. And if the Mage has so many problems with the Old Families, why involve me into it? The battle with the Old Families is his, not mine. And I will not fight it for him. And Baz won’t fight it for the Old Families either.

We’re not enemies. We’re just two boys who got manipulated by politicks.

Baz isn’t my enemy and I’m not his. Our enemy is the Humdrum, and Baz and I will fight together to destroy him.

We’re not enemies. We’re just two boys who fell in love.

chap 1, chap 2

[aintnouseofpretending]

You’re not usually this quiet...

Summary: Although things have not been working well, you still come and fulfil your promise to go picnic with your best friends; Freddie and his boyfriend Jim, Mary, and the other three boys and their significant others. Well, not really. You ended up just with Freddie, because Jim and Mary got something urgent in their workplace, and Freddie is too angry to listen for any more excuses from the other boys. It doesn’t take long for Freddie to notice something is wrong with his best friend.

Pairing: Freddie x Jim. 

Warning: Angst. Fluff. Freddie is with Jim, so he’s your best friend instead of a boyfriend. Apologies for any Freddie’s stan.

Word Count:

Inspired by: Friends Will Be Friends. Spread Your Wings. Keep Passing The Open Windows.

Dedicated to: Those who need the kindest of words, the highest of spirit, and the softest of reassurance. Do not give up. It’s okay to fall, so long you get back up again. You are important.

Perma-tag: @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark

+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+

You sighed deeply. You try not to, but you can’t hold yourself back. It is simply too heavy, too stressful. You cannot comprehend what happened anymore, things just crumble one by one, falling into you. Every single one hurts. From getting evicted due to the late payment, you’re fired because of some arsehole customers, and because of all that accumulated stress, you take it out on your friends and cause a big fight. So right now you’re at your parents' house, in your childhood bedroom. You’re completely relieved from your parents’ understanding of your situation, but it still felt bad and embarrassing.

You’ve already cried all night, sleep until the afternoon, and hardly eat. Mother can tolerate one day of break down, but after the third day of the same cycle, you couldn’t blame her to get worried. You put an act, to wash down the worries that were fortunately easy to do. Seeing her getting affected by your blue only adds to the bleeding wound, something impossible to bear. But you did it. One accomplishment after a clusterfuck that has happened. One small celebration that quickly makes you feel worse for your dishonesty, to your own mother.

“I’m so fucking pathetic.” It’s a raspy whisper at eleven pm. The room is dark, you left the windows open, letting the remaining spring’s wind in. You didn’t even bother to cover yourself, you think you deserve to get sick at the beginning of summer. Deserve to feel every layer of hurt and pain for making things much worse. You wish to cry, to let the pain out, maybe sobbing uncontrollably like before. But no tears came out. Your eyes’ so dry, every time the wind hits you it became very itchy.

One bright thought fly about in your brain, it was the famous saying in Japanese; “Only idiots catch a cold in summer. I am an idiot enough to deserve it, at least.”

Things get boring fast. You can’t cry, you can’t sleep. You’re hungry, but you don’t want to wake your parents by making noise in the kitchen. You’re too scared to touch your laptop, afraid it will remind you of your friends that you already hurt. Another thought is floating around, it has been since the day you’re home, every time you see an open window. The night sky is just too beautiful sometimes it makes you lazy. You really wish you have the energy to do something and have your mind distracted from the thought. Far too occupied thinking a way through, you almost miss the sound of a phone call. You leave it to ring only to die, and it repeats thrice before the caller are forced to leave you a voicemail.

“Whatever you’re doing, dear y/n, to ignore my call like this, I hope you’re having tons of fun. But don’t forget about our promise tomorrow, please? Picnic by the lake. We’ll see you at the usual rendezvous point. A bottle of wine as an apology is required! Au revoir!”

You feel a tingle of hope after listening to your best friend, Freddie, cheerful voice. He’s clearly drunk, he’s clearly with Jim and Mary from the chatter in the background, and he’s clearly isn’t pleased by something else beforehand to be pissed off by your typical interest lack thereof. And nothing could annoy him more than those three boys; Bri, Rog, and John. But that doesn’t bother you, the fact that you feel like there’s another option to get your mind off of all the terrible things that weigh you down give you the power to get up and message him; “Copy that.” And removing any bullshit excuses or lies that should’ve come after that. As always, he left you on read, and you try your best to assure yourself that he’s not mad at you, it’s just Freddie being Freddie—he even left Jim on read, and you’re absolutely sure more than he does to you.

“I still can’t sleep.” You talk to yourself as you sit at the edge of the bed. Your room is a complete mess, just like your life currently. But the light from the lamp post in the garden falls on your favourite blue top on the floor. At least you can prepare for your clothes tomorrow and iron them, make yourself presentable you thought. Maybe some late night snack too when you have the energy to make some jam on toast?

“You’re already awake, hun?” Your mother greets you as you prepare breakfast for your parents. “How are you today?”

“Much better.” You shrugged. “PBJs, coffee and tea for you and dad.”

“Lovely! Thank you so much, dear! How about you, honey? Have you eaten breakfast yet? You have been skipping a meal here and there, you have to eat.” She asks as she takes a seat, sipping upon the warm tea you made.

“Already ate. I'm going picnic with Freddie and his friends, so I better get going now. See you later, mum.” You kiss her cheek as you pack a bottle of wine. “Oh, and may I have this? I wouldn’t be out for too long, and I can buy your groceries in exchange, just message me the list?”

“Sure, dear! Have fun! I bet Freddie would be impressed with how you dress up!”

You bite back the reply He might not and instead said; “Absolutely, mum! It’s Freddie after all!” You try to lie to yourself that what you’re saying is indeed true, that Freddie will make things better, if not, his friends will, which technically because of Freddie too. You try to distract your mind from the creeping ugly memories that keep saying you shouldn’t have fun. That you should’ve just stayed and suffered for your own doings. To take the full consequence and feel bad about it, and must find the solution and fix it before you’re allowed to enjoy summer. You scroll through your camera roll to see the pictures of Freddie and his friends. Although unfortunately all of them already taken, you still can enjoy looking at the cute faces of Brian, Roger, and John. You don’t really care about a relationship right now—especially not right now when you feel like shit and your existence will absolutely be a burden rather than the opposite of it. Before the bad thoughts could fight back, you receive a call from Freddie.

“I’m five minutes away from the site. How’re you?” You answered.

“Hungover. Badly. And out of ten people picnic today? Only the two of us could make it.”

“Pardon me?”

“You are pardoned. And yes, darling. Only the two of us could make it. You have to forgive me, after the third excuse that came after Mary—and was from Jim too, what a bad luck it was,—I’m really not in the mood to hear anymore without starting a fight and potentially severe my friendships with those bastards. Not with this bloody headache. So I told them to go fuck themselves for cancelling our summer picnic we have planned after six fucking months—.”

“Are you driving?”

“God, thanks for reminding me, I almost hit a passing grandma.” His sarcasm was left unanswered by you. “I'm shitfaced and careful, so I will be arriving a wee later. I stole Roger’s car. But once I’m there, you’re driving, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. See you soon, love.”

“See you, Fred—.”

You can feel the anger boiling inside of you when your anxiety trying to make of Freddie’s hanging up as your fault. In your mind you told yourself that Freddie was already angry, besides, he’s driving, and it’s bad to drive and call at the same time, so him hanging up without hearing you saying goodbye is perfectly justified. But your hand shakes still, a small panic starts rising, you quickly close your eyes in response, calming yourself down. You’re glad when reality soon catches up as the bus give out the ding, you’ve arrived at the Seaside Cafe. It doesn’t take long too for Freddie to arrive with Roger’s favourite car, fortunately, unscathed.

“Hop in, dear. These buildings and peoples didn’t help my pounding head.” He jumps on the passenger seat once you open the driver seat door. “Oh, you bring foods and wine? Absolutely fantastic! I know I can count on you, my lovely y/n!”

You smiled and nod as you slowly hit the gas. You’re glad your friends didn’t tell Freddie and his gang about your fight with them, so at least you don’t have to deal with that problem for now. Not until you’re ready to face it again. But that thought is coming back; in between Freddie’s gossips, him offering you one Roger’s leftover Marlboro and light it up for you, or the fact that he drinks the rest of Roger’s wine that was left on the back seat as he comments how disgusting it tasted so glad he didn’t give the rest to you. Only when the silence comes you notice you haven’t been paying any attention to Freddie, too caught up fighting your anxiety back.

You give him a couple second of side glance; he’s busy lighting another smoke that you’re pretty sure are his fourth since he found the pack. He inhaled it deeply before exhaling it depressingly slow outside the window. The mood swiftly turned sour and heavy, and again, your anxiety knows how to spin it and make it as your fault. And you’re starting to believe it. You grip the steer tightly as you try to hold back the shaking. Your heart rate raises, and you start to feel that cold sweat running down your temple and your breaths getting shorter.

“You’re not usually this quiet with me, darling.” He almost makes you jump, although you successfully hold back your body reaction by blinking repetitively. “Whose breaking your heart?”

“Myself.” You answered before you could even think. “Let’s not talk about it when I’m driving, smoking, and cannot breathe.”

He snatches your smoke on your lip and has it off on Roger’s dashboard. That’ll start a huge fight later, you’re calling it.

“I need a bit of wine to calm myself.” You cut him off when he’s reaching for your mum’s bottle of wine. “Later, Fred. I’m driving. We might die, but Roger wouldn’t be happy if I cause any dent on his baby.”

“So we’ll die either way.” He laughs, already tipsy. “Alright, darling. Go drive like a champ.”

The rest of the ride was unexciting but feels much better. Freddie gives you space to breathe and to focus on driving. When the lake is visible, you already feel like your stress is slowly deteriorating. Shame really, only you and Freddie could come. The more the merrier they say. Or at least if that’s the case, you don’t have to promise Freddie and tell him all the batshit crazy things that have been haunting you. You’re not sure you can start without breaking down, and all of the sudden the tears that are non-existent last night will pour down like a waterfall. You’re betting on that. But, that’s your anxiety talking again.

“Move, darling. I’ll park the car, you lay down the cloth for us to sit. Make sure you pour a full glass of wine for me too, hmm?”

You listened to him obediently and taking the picnic basket you’ve prepared all night with you. It cost you a good night sleep that never came. The wind immediately welcomed you outside the car. The sky is decorated with small white clouds, giving the stage all for the sun to warm every inch of your body whilst the some of the spring breezes felt like the nostalgic cooling with past lovers, completes the satisfying feeling that describes how summer should feel. You can’t enjoy it for long as Freddie soon catch up, trying not to fall over walking on the tall grass.

“What’s on the menu today, dear chef?” He says, practically fell on the cloth right after you tidy them. “Sandwiches I hope? We’re having a picnic after all. Oh, and the wine, where is it?”

You pour him almost a glass full of it whilst you’re trying not to lose yourself and only pour not even two fifth of your glass. You’re glad he doesn’t comment on it.

“Ah! Some fruits too! Magnificent! Jim would be extra jealous to know you’re preparing this well!” He quickly eats the grapes you brought. “Sour and juicy! A little bit of sweetness! Like life! Ah, cheers to that, darling!”

You raise your glass whilst slowly sipping the sweet wine. It was delicious and strong. Maybe your mum knows your condition quite fully, giving you a lot of space to deal with it, and thus allowing you to have her favourite bottle of wine in hope to give you more way to let it all out. You take a mental and a phone note to make sure you buy her favourite cakes later as a thank you. She already sent you the long grocery list, you might have to borrow Roger’s car for a little longer.

“So, dear? Let’s not pretend like you don’t have something to tell me, yes? Don’t bottle it in, darling. It’ll crack and eventually breaks. We don’t want that, surely?”

You take a good amount of consideration whilst to prepare yourself mentally and emotionally. After staring at your wine and at Freddie, you finally add more wine in your glass and drink them in one gulp. Better cry now than later. And so you tell him everything. What has been happening in one month flat. As if having the sky falling down on you and destroys everything you’ve built. And you make it worse by destroying the rest that is left in blind frustration and rage. Now you’re here. Regretting every bits and piece of it, blaming every single bad thing you just experienced on yourself only. You feel too powerless, too overwhelmed to get back up. What are you supposed to do? How to get rid of the sadness that keeps coming and building in you? How to fix everything when there’s nothing left to fix?

“Cry, darling.”

“I have. There are no more tears left in my eyes.”

“Then scream.”

“Pardon?”

“There’s no one here. Even if there is, do you think you’d care? Scream, dear. Scream it all out. How unfair it is. How you feel sad and pathetic and useless. How everything is your fault. Do it, love.”

“O-okay?”

“Go on now.” He pours more wine into his glass. “I will be here. The lake is all yours.”

At first, you hesitate. Not really sure how to properly start a screaming session. Trying to ask Freddie since he’s the proper vocalist, only to receive his impatient glare as he slowly sips on his wine. You then awkwardly stands up, taking off your shoes, just in case, and get closer to the lake. The green scenery blown you away with its beauty, and to truly feel the summer again on your naked skin calms you, making you wish to take a nap. Again, Freddie is getting restless and he makes sure to tell you that by coughing quite forcefully.

“H-how am I to just scream? I never screamed for no reason before.”

“Well, change that, darling! How difficult is it really?”

“A little demo?”

It’s a hard no from the man. He fans himself with his hand as he waits. You no longer have a choice. At least nothing else that you can do, he has given you an option to choose, have you come up with anything better?

You try to yell at first. Saying you’re sad, why are you sad? Oh, right, all the shitty events that took place before that day. Are you stupid? Clearly, you are. You don’t even know why you’re blaming yourself for the things you have no control with. But what about getting angry at your friends for no particular reason? Well, maybe that’s your fault? Yeah! Why did you do that? You’re stressed? Why are you stressed? How to undo everything? Impossible! You don’t deserve the life you have before.

Eventually, you’re getting louder and louder to the point you almost hurt your throat. You keep asking questions that you answered. You don’t even know anymore whether anxiety is the one asking the question, or answering them. It’s a devilish cycle to the point you don’t know what question or answer lead to that, and you’re getting frustrated. Why are you like this? Why can’t it be simple?

“Because it can’t, darling. You’re human. Capable of any sort of emotions.” Freddie walks to your side, handing you your glass of wine that was half full. “That’s the beauty of it. Your problems have successfully kicked you down to the ground. You feel worthless? Feel it with all of your heart dear. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t a strong woman. You’re still here. You come, forget to sleep just to prepare all these?”

Freddie gently shakes the wine in his glass. “If you were truly have given up, I don’t think you’d be screaming. Even if you don’t come and cancel our plan like all of those pricks, then dear, I want you to scream. Get unreasonably angry at your pillows. Punch it. Kick it. If you can’t do that, write. Whenever there’s something in my mind, I write it down. I turn it into songs, then I will scream my lungs out as I sing it.”

“What if I can’t do all that, Fred?” You ask, voice hoarse.

“Then call me, love. Call me. Call Jim. Call Mary. Call everyone. Tell your parents. Don’t be shy, don’t be nervous. Every human has their up and downs. Just tell me everything. How it might not make any sense. Tell me, dear. You’ve got best friends that’ll help you get on your feet again. Darling, drink.”

You stare at your glass of wine. You can’t think straight, but you know you mustn’t drink too much. A sip. Two sips. Three sips.

“Y/n, you’re important. Your life is much too precious to be thrown away. You’re a brave, strong, girl. Even a hero has their time of weakness, dear. This is your times of weakness. And it’s perfectly fine to feel worthless and pathetic, feels as if there’s no light to guide you out the dark scary tunnel. But believe me, dear, you have to stand up, even just by an inch, a centimetre. Let your hands search the darkness. Reach out. If you can’t stand by yourself, reach out. And I will gladly pull you up. Any of your friends will pull you up. If you feel unloved, we will give you love.”

You can feel your eyes start getting teary. Finally, you thought. But is it true? What Freddie told you? You’re important? You’re brave and strong? Are you really worth their time? Worth their love?

Freddie touch your face, softly lift it up to face him.

“Darling. Whenever you feel lonely, you need a shoulder to cry on, you have your friends. You have me. Your best friend. If you don’t want my words, dear, then let me be there even in silence. Listen carefully, hmm? Your existence gives meanings to your friends. No matter how long it takes, we will be there for you. We will make you laugh. We will make you forget. We will make you face it with newfound motivation and self-worth. Because you are worth it. Okay? We love you. Don’t ever think you’re unloved.”

His thumb wipes the single tear that manages to escape. You hug him tight so suddenly his wine spilt on the grass, but he doesn’t mind. He returns your hug, just as warm, just as tight, and you both stayed like that for a while. Long enough for you to feel secure. That you’re not alone. That you will never be alone. You know deep down you’re strong, no matter how small those feelings are, hiding so it can survive the massive amount of self-doubt. You can stand up. You will stand up. Whatever it takes. Freddie will help you stand up again. Get you strong on your feet again, like what he has done right now.

“Thank you, Fred. I really need it.” You whispered after you finally let go of the hug. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, darling. Just remember I will always be there if you need me, yes? And thanks for this.” He lifts up his glass. “To my courageous heroine, y/n! Come! Toast for yourself! You deserve it!”

“To me!” You smiled as you bring your glass up. “But that’s enough drink. I still have to drive.”

“Ah, boo! Party-pooper!” He sticks out his tongue. “Come, dear, let’s eat the food. You must’ve been hungry fighting yourself day and night! You need the energy to recover and heal! Don’t be shy, don’t be shy!”

Freddie tries not to spill any more of his wine as he walks towards the basket. He gestures you to follows him, smiling kindly and warmly. He even offered his hand when you’re getting closer, a hand that you whole-heartedly reach out and hold onto.

It’s been three days since the picnic with Freddie. A day after that you’re eager to look for a new job, your parents’ make sure to supports you mentally and emotionally, understand that you can stand by yourself, but make sure to be there when you fall again and in need of aid. But that’s not all. You contact your friends again, ask them if you can meet them to apologize for face to face. You’re already nervous when none of them is available that week until they follow up and give you date next week.

Half of the problems are fixed, you sighed in relieve. Although you still can’t find a new place yet even after contacting friends and looking around. It’s barely three days, you assure yourself. You still have plenty of times. Don’t rush or you might stumble and fall again. Do things slowly. You’re still recovering.

You check your phone after you’re out of Seaside Cafe for a job interview. Freddie and his friends blew it, nearly a hundred notifications from before you’re called for the interview. All of them asking how you’re doing. Some came straight —of course, it’s Brian and Veronica that’s worried the most—and say that Freddie is telling them about you being down, believing in his version of the truth that even after screaming at the lake you still feel sad and insecure. Freddie told you that he has taken care of slackers that cancel the plan on the date, making sure they don’t repeat it again.

“Another picnic, dear. Next month. What do you say? Specifically for you.”

“I really appreciate it, Fred, I really do. But don’t you think it’s a bit—?”

“Oh, shush! No buts! Yes or no?”

“Sure—.”

“It’s a yes, people! You’re only allowed to cancel five days before the date! Hey, listen, darlings! Five work days! And I won’t hear any objection! Especially not from you, Roger!”

You can hear in the background that Roger is still not through with Freddie tarnishing his dashboard with his smokes and his wine. You purposely tuned out the inappropriate bits about Freddie stealing his something and something related to “stuff” Roger would use on his date with his girlfriends.

“Let’s talk again later, how about that, Fred? My bus is here.” You say, although your actual excuse was that the conversations in his line have become so dirty you feel like you have to take a shower once you’re home.

“Of course, darling! Be careful on your way home! Remember this, y/n, we’re here for you. Alright?” You smiled.

“Copy that.”

End.