#can’t remember what I did. maybe it’s in my bookmarks… I should in private some of those

[sanerontheinside]

Hello! I'm terribly sorry to bug you; I'm looking for the author of a fic that seems to have been deleted and I was hoping you'd be able to help? It's called "A Jesuits Fortuna", do you know who wrote it?

Hello there! the fic is not deleted!!! but for some reason doesn’t readily pop up in title search. the author is the_little_owl, and I do believe there is a tumblr acct but I can’t think of the handle just now. cheers, and do enjoy!!!

[idiopathicsmile]

Hello!

I know you probably get countless messages like this, so I know that it’s unlikely that I will ever know if you do read it.

I really despise not telling people the (positive) impacts they’ve had on me, though - probably something for me to look into, but that’s not the point.

The point is that when I was in 7th grade (~13 years old), I went through some really horrible shit at school. I got outed, as bi and then trans, and that escalated into threats of hate crimes. I went to a small private school, and the kids who were tormenting me had rich parents who donated inordinate amounts of money. So nothing happened.

I had never read fanfiction before. I don’t really know how I stumbled onto AO3, to be honest - my older sibling had read Les Misérables recently, and I wanted to be able to connect to them through it without reading the brick.

I did not know any of the characters from World Ain’t Ready when I read it, but they were familiar to me. I saw myself in Jehan, but I wanted to be as brave as Grantaire. My older sibling, who has protected me my whole life, and was the only one who made sure I was safe, was clearly mirrored in Enjolras.

I’m sure I’d seen queerness in some media before I read WAR, but I don’t remember it. It didn’t hit as hard as this did. I read the whole thing in one night and I’m pretty sure it fundamentally changed me. School still sucked, sure, and I still have issues from it. But one of the ways I survived was because every time I thought I couldn’t get through it, I found myself thinking about Grantaire and Jehan and how they might be if they were in my shoes. WAR isn’t dark in the way that I was experiencing, I don’t think, but I could still understand them, and I felt understood by them.

Maybe if I hadn’t found WAR, I would have found something else - after all, there are more that I’ve found now. But it was World Ain’t Ready that I found and that introduced me to fanfiction, which has helped me through so much past that year.

Now, World Ain’t Ready is the first bookmark on my account. I’ve finished my first semester of college. I am here, and I don’t know if I’m happy, but I’m so much better than I was when I first read WAR. I’m not saying that it made me better, or absolutely was the one thing that saved me, but it did change me, and it did help me.

I still haven’t read Les Misérables. I’ve read bits - mostly surrounding Grantaire, or Enjolras and Grantaire - but not the whole thing. I’m rather happy with my current understanding of the characters and general plot via fanfics, wiki pages, and friends, though.

So, if you ever do see this, and if you ever do feel like responding, let me know if I should read it.

Thank you for everything - and I can’t wait to read what you write next 🤍

hello!

thank you so much for reaching out. i definitely read every message and comment i get, but sometimes i get too overwhelmed to reply. that said, it felt important to reply to this one.

i am so sorry that people treated you so horribly, and that you were in that whole awful situation. not just the bullying, but knowing that the adults in charge of keeping you safe had bent to the pressure of money and the status quo must have been really hard to grapple with at that age.

i am so glad you had a sibling in your corner, and if my fic—and fic in general—was able to help you at all. as you may know, getting any message that says "hey, this had a positive impact on me" even if it's just "this helped me pass a few pleasant moments" is one of the main reasons a lot of us write to begin with. (including me.)

thank you for this message, and please take care. please be patient with yourself if it takes a long time to heal from your trauma. you have a lot to process.

as for whether or not you should read les mis, i should probably tell you that i have only read parts of it too, and mostly the parts about fantine. much like your own patchwork intake of the story, my characterization is a mishmash of the musical and reading meta that other people wrote back in the day. i feel like my advice here would maybe be to get it from your library—here is a guide to the various translations; my understanding is that the denny version is not very good—and try it out for yourself before committing to buying a book that big.

thank you again for this kind note and i wish you a lovely 2023!

-jess

[toukatan]

You read every gojohime fic???? That's amazing!!! What are your favourites?

hello anonie! i guess i can say i’ve read at least a good 80% of all the fics, at least. probably. most likely because the fic tag at the start of the year was tiny and now the community’s grown so much there’s almost 600 of them. that’s insane to me. like hello?

i have a lotta fics that come to mind, that i should honestly make a master post on because i love them all. so here are a few many that came to mind immediately as i typed this up.

gojohime fic recommendations!

multichapter

limitations by ohmytheon 

“Parenthood chooses you," her mother used to tell her, but Utahime never understood that saying more than the moment she realized she was pregnant with Gojo Satoru's child. They were never meant to be something serious - never meant to be more than they were - and yet they both suddenly find themselves in a world that doesn't care about their desires - and that brings them closer in a way that no one else can understand. It won't be easy and it won't be kind to either of them, but it appears as if the universe has other plans for them

no one is what they were before by ohmytheon 

The world broke when Gojo Satoru turned on jujutsu society. It's not the hopeful place it was before, but Utahime has never been one to give up. Until she's placed in a dangerous position directly in his path, and she finds herself trapped in a web that doesn't seem intent on ever letting her go.

and touch me like you never by ohmytheon 

In public, Gojo is a special grade bastard, especially to Utahime, and has been all their lives. He knows exactly what insults to throw and what buttons to push to drive her up a wall. In private, however, he's got quite a few other things to tell and show her, which only makes things more confusing. It would be easier if she could avoid him entirely, but for some reason, he won't let her go entirely.

gravity by aerfei

This is Utahime, fierce and indomitable, and this is Satoru, who despite holding the world’s regard, still craves something that Utahime has had all her life. Coming together is sometimes an act of desperation, and sometimes a deliberate choice. Or: An Iori Utahime character study, through the lens of her relationship with Gojo Satoru, starting from the beginning and ending at the Goodwill Event arc. Manga spoilers and (at least 95%) canon-compliant through (at least) chapter 135.

count every single leaf in autumn by florieneofthesea

“I told my family we’re dating.” Utahime’s hand hovers over the door. “What?!” (or: Gojo tells his family that he's dating Utahime to get them off his back, so of course they invite her to the dreaded family dinner™)

favourite colour by otherthingsonhold

At 28, Satoru Gojo's responsibilities only start to multiply. With his clan looking to him to lead the family, and the balance of the universe in his hands, Gojo isn't thinking of much else. But when his mother brings something to his attention, the only thing Gojo can do is follow through. But how is Utahime Iori part of all of this?

gojo catoru by ashittywriter

Utahime is tasked to catsit a suspiciously large Persian dollface cat with pristine white hair, the most boop-able nose, and to top it off the cutest cerulean eyes. Too bad the cat also happens to be her idiotic colleague Gojo Satoru.

at the tail-end of spring by florieneofthesea

Utahime doesn't expect to remember her ex's number off by heart but it comes in handy when she's a little less than sober outside a club in a city she's not familiar with and her battery on three percent. She just wishes things turned out differently for them. (Or, post-break up exploration where outer forces refuse to let them have their happy ending.)

a second chance by onewordmore

In another world, it wasn't Geto who sneered down at humanity, regarding them to be worthless monkeys that deserved to die. In another world, it wasn't Geto who openly defied the Jujutsu Council and brought down terror and fear to all. In another world, it wasn't just Amanai Riko who died that day, amidst the cheers and delighted cries of the insane. And Utahime was going to learn, first hand, the consequences of her own death.

from you to me by onewordmore

A drabble series regarding Gojo and Utahime. From fluff to smut to angst to love. This is going to have it all.

oneshots

oceansize by aerfei

The marriage is arranged by their families, small clans both, with all their hopes and traditions laid gently upon the shoulders of their only heirs -- and yet, this distance is impassable.

under the cover of darkness by ohmytheon

It takes a little alcohol, early morning hours, and a game of truth or dare for Gojo and Utahime to admit some difficult truths to each other.

risk/reward by ohmytheon 

No punishment had ever been more effective in making Gojo do his actual job than receiving praise from his secretary - or more grueling than when Utahime withheld it.

like a good roommate by ohmytheon

Utahime has a problem: her bed wasn't delivered to the new apartment. Her ridiculous roommate, Gojo, has a solution - but he's kind of panicking on the inside.

aware of us by halspur 

“We did alright, didn’t we?” Gojo put his phone down after taking several dozen photos of Tsumiki walking across the stage, his eyes soft. “I mean, we were just kids, too.”

love song by halspur

“Because you’re weak.” Gojo said, muffled into the thin skin of her throat. “I can’t leave you alone.”

tear you apart by halspur

“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Utahime’s cheek was pressed into his spine, her voice muffled. “I like you.”

cuddles are for clean boyfriends by just_trying_my_best_everyday

Utahime finds Gojo Satoru sitting right behind the door, blindfold hanging on his neck, completely soaked in blood and petting her cat with both hands. And he stinks.

honey by florieneofthesea

Gojo Satoru experiences love a decade before he fully realises it.

roots by florieneofthesea 

At the start of winter, Utahime starts to cough up blood. She thinks maybe its just the lingering damage from her last mission, but the coughing persists and it starts to scratch her throat, and itch at her lungs and when she finally makes the trip to Tokyo to ask Shoko for her help, she doesn't even get the first word out. Shoko welcomes her at the entrance to Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School and Utahime hacks up a single, pale blue petal, smattered with blood. She stares down at the flora on the ground and wonders if she's been cursed. Utahime looks up, and Shoko's eyes are wide.

to have and to hold by ashittywriter

“M’sorry," Gojo said his voice slurring at the end. "But please go away, I have a girlfriend." Utahime blinked in confusion. What the fuck? 

souvenir by PrettyKittyLuvsU

“Aha!” Gojo tugged something out of his pocket, his long fingers curled around it as he held his hand behind his back. His other hand waved before him, a cheeky grin splitting his lips. “Ora, ora! Hold out your hand.” Utahime stared flatly. “Ora, ora!” Gojo persisted, continuing to wave his hand as he grinned. “Hold out your hand already!” Utahime scowled at the hand swaying infront of her face. She had half a mind to slap the man instead, but her students were closely watching. Even Gojo’s students, the second years mainly—for Sukuna’s vessel was apologizing profusely as the brown haired girl continued kicking him while the quiet one made no effort to stop her— looked in fascination at whatever ridiculous souvenir Gojo wanted to hand her. Utahime slowly lifted her arm, already planning on throwing the thing back in Gojo’s annoying face. Gojo gets Utahime a very special kind of souvenir. Set during the start of the Goodwill arc.

dayum this exposes me huh? i do be reading a lot but what can i say i love to see it. all these fics are amazing, to the writers y’all are doing fantastically like my goodness you be really putting ya girl in a loop with some of these fics with your plot-lines and doing it flawlessly. can’t thank them enough for them, their hard work and time!

be sure to show the writers some love and support with comments, bookmarks and fight that dayum kudos button when it smiles at you because lemme leave more—

i think they’d really really appreciate it when they hear the bing and be sure to check out all of their stories including the ones in the pairing tag! happy readings 😙✨

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[cryinginthebackseat]

you’ve got more poison than sugar - part ii

part i    part iii  AO3 

Fandom: Call Of Duty

Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell

Words: 2.918

Warnings: some mild sexual content and swearings, like usual

Author’s note: okay, i know this one's a little short but i promise there'll be more coming on the next chapter, i promise.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The first time Bell showed her face at Langley, it was two weeks after the program. She wore beige, a ruffled high-neck blouse that made her hazel eyes, like charred nut shells, hard and just about indestructible, popped.

She stood at the lobby, regarding the place like she’d waltzed into a wrong banquet hall, the band played in the background, chandeliers dripping like arctic icicles, the bar drenched in opulent gold.

She didn’t belong here.

But Adler met her there, anyway, Hudson in tow.

“Have I ever done something to him?” Bell asked after the rather short-lived meeting, squinting at the vacant spot Hudson left them. She’d yielded very few words. When she did, it’d been all business, crisp, so it surprised him now to hear her uttering something with more than 2 syllables.

“What do you mean?”

“Have I deliberately done something to piss him off?” she elaborated, quieter, but the glower remained.

Adler carefully studied her behind his tinted shades. It still troubled him to a degree that he couldn’t read her. Like she locked herself off. They say eyes are the window to the soul, but thus far, he saw nothing. Fuck the poets.

“No. At least, not as far as I can tell,” he grits out, curious to see where she was heading with the conversation. “Why?”

Bell hummed, but seemingly unconvinced. A beat, then: “He doesn’t seem to like me that much.”

You don’t belong here, he thought and his face went cagier, back stiffer, but no doubt intrigued. Very much so by this mysteriously curious creature.

Perceptive and diamond-sharp intelligent, he pondered. They might have secured the bag after all.

“It's not you. That’s just as warm and fuzzy you’ll see Hudson with everyone, trust me,” he uttered, hoping that she bought the fib. She did. At least, he thought so. “Come on, Bell, we’ve got a job to do.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adler finds her outside the garage the next night, smoking alone, reading in secret. The ground is still wet from the rain, straggling cloud wisps and every artery of this place fucking freezes his bones. Bell ditches her gloves inside, but has her coat on, the collar popped up like antennae.

"You aren't cold?" he asks when she doesn’t notice him. Too engrossed in her own bubble. She does look better, though. Park is right about that one at least.

"I'm good," she answers without looking up. "Am I needed for something inside?"

"No, just thought I could use some fresh air."

He’s studying her, raking her from head to toe. Suddenly, he doesn’t care if she would notice him. Then he steps closer, standing next to her, lifting his cigarette to his mouth.

“What are you reading?”

There’s something about this secret element to her that has him on his toes. Everything about her is curious- frustratingly curious, careful, as Bell rolls her neck to meet him. In the low light, she looks quite new, he learns. And his eyes beg for him to linger.  

“Amerika. Kafka,” she says. “Have you read it?”

A subtle shake of his head and, “No.” While Bell nods, silent, like she doesn't know what else to say to him. “Should I? Give it a read?” Adler adds, just to keep the conversation going.

She shrugs, a cloud of smoke escaping her nostrils. “I can’t say that Kafka is ever a favorite of mine, but he really is sui generis. And Amerika is probably the most approachable of all his works? It’s funny too.”

“I never thought I’d hear Kafka and funny in the same sentence.”

“Yeah, well, it’s very subtle. And if only you can understand his nightmarish sense of humor, that is,” she explains, shrugging again, like she’s embarrassed. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll like it.”

Frankly, he hates Kafka. He hates his vatic, dead-eye vision of the world; that acute sense of hopelessness clinging onto his main protagonists like vines, but Adler finds himself nodding, anyway.

“Sure, lend me your copy once you're done with it." If she’s surprised by his answer, she does not tell her. But Adler thinks she’s smiling though- just the barest quirk of her lips, but it’s enough for him to know that she appreciates the gesture.

A brief, unmapped silence ensues.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

Adler arches an eyebrow at her. "For what?"

Bell slots a bookmark into the book, closes it, frowns at it.

"For yesterday. I, uh… I feel like I was being insolent to you.”

He looks sidelong at Bell and tries to read her. Her expression is raw and open, a painting visible through a small tear in the paper. For some reason, that catches him by surprise.

“You already apologized, you know?” Adler teases lamely.

“I know, but still it was uncalled for and very unprofessional of me. You’re my CO, not some random BND agent I’m forced to work with. I shouldn’t have said that," she mumbles softly and sighs, world-weary, heavy, sounding like a woman twice her age. "It will not happen again. I promise you."

"Hey, consider it water under the bridge, kid. You’re in a rather rough place right now, I wouldn’t hold it against you,” he tells her, fond. “What matters is you’re alright. We can’t catch Perseus if you’re green around the gills.”

Her eyes meet his. He meets her back.

“Thank you.” And Bell rotates her body to face him. Mussed brunette hair and sharp cheekbones, mouth kinked up in sympathy as she says, “Is this what you have to put up with all these years?"

He summons a smirk. "With you? More or less."

And then the woman does the unexpected; Bell laughs. She fucking laughs. Delicate sounding, like a tinkling glass, petals wrapped in satin, moonbeams through frosted windows. It dies, too soon to his liking. Adler privately lets the sound of her laughter replays in his head, as if trying to pocket it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s only after Ukraine when he discovers that she smells different. That wintry floral smell of hers that he’s accustomed to is commingling with something else.

But now-

Now, there's music in the air.

Sims does this sometimes, bringing his Zenith Trans-Oceanic, or as he would call it the Tranny, to the safehouse and they would tune in to international radio stations. Cream's Sunshine Of Your Love is playing- or more specifically, their song is 5 seconds away from being cut off abruptly by the DJ. The song reminds him of Vietnam, regrettably. The root of all madness.

“Next up, is my favorite ever track-to-track transition on an album. This is Pink Floyd’s Brain Damage and-”

Adler stops whatever it is he’s scribbling. He sits up, ramrod straight.

“Mind switching to another station?” he asks suddenly, glances up at Sims quickly who, as Adler suspected, is giving him a rather odd look.

“Why?”

"I've always hated Pink Floyd." Only because he’s out of reason. Only because he can feel Bell’s confused stare, searing into his temple. Only because it’s the only way of escaping this. "Change it, please."

Sims opens his mouth. The unspoken: how about that time in Denver?

The telling jerk of Adler’s lips warns him not to ask.

The other man clamps his mouth shut, seemingly gets the message and switches to a different station. He never brings his radio again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frank Woods is exactly how Adler saw him last time- or since Hue City, that is: tigerish and intimidating- a kick in the head voice, a hurricane in the shape of a man and he is making his way to him right now.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

"So talk."

Woods shakes his head. "Not here."

Adler looks at him at last now, curiosity creeping over him. He then stubs his cigarette, nods once and leads them both to his office.

Once they’re inside, he locks the door, secures the blinds.

“What is it?” Adler takes a seat behind his desk. Woods remains standing. He paces around the room, a hand on his bearded chin.

“What the fuck is going on with your girl?”

Adler doesn’t know which one is worse, the fact that Woods manages to sniff out something going on with Bell or that he just addresses her as his girl. Either way, it's bad. Either way, Adler should have expected the former issue. Woods is astute as he is dangerous. There's a reason why the CIA gave the green light for Mason and Hudson to save him in Da Nang all those years ago, after all.

"What about her?" Adler asks, even-toned, giving nothing away. Even though he is in the ‘need to know’ column regarding Bell’s brainwashing, this is something Adler initially wishes he could keep under wraps.

“Don’t bullshit me, Adler. She has that look on her face- I see it in her eyes. The exact same look Mason has been wearing since ‘Nam,” Woods tells him, point-blank, never being the one to settle for niceties. After Hudson, Adler thinks he simply can’t tolerate the agency anymore.

“I saw it all, remember? Had a fucking front row seat to his relapse and shit, so don’t tell me she’s alright. Not when it looks like she could snap out of it any moment.” Woods has his hands on the table and looks at him dead-on. “Tell me I’m right. Tell me there is something wrong with her.”

He regards the other man coolly. Woods is no longer asking. Adler is out of move.

“You're right,” he answers simply, eventually, tipping his king over on its side, stopping the clock. "Did you talk to Hudson regarding this?"

"Since when did I report to Agent stick-up-his-ass? Fuck no. That's why I came straight to you.” Woods heaves a heavy sigh, like he’s the one with all these burdens. “Now, what the hell’s wrong with her?”

“She’s suffering from brain damage."

“Shit. All that ‘cause of MK-Ultra?”

“One of the few factors that caused it, yes.”

His mouth goes flat. "How bad is it?”

“Bad. We’re trying to minimize for any collateral as we speak, at least until we finally get our hands on Perseus. But she… she might not make it.” Adler leans back in his chair, like his body feels heavy all of the sudden.

Woods nods. Uncharacteristically silent, looking strangely contemplative, sympathetic even. That should be categorized as an oddity itself, Woods and him, two proud Americans, Vietnam veterans and she’s just another red, another blood they would indubitably sacrifice for their country and they’re sympathizing with her? Yet something deep inside Adler, something resonates like the throat of a storm, sinks its teeth into him, confounds him, every time he thinks of her.

Woods crosses his arms over his chest, glances at the door, as if someone might knock anytime soon, then back to him.

"So, what's the plan?" He quickly adds, "if things go south, what are you gonna do?"

"It won't come to that. She'll come through, I know it," Adler counters, suddenly defensive. Whatever the use of his tone indicates, Woods ignores it.

"You sure about that?”

"Are you doubting me?” Adler spits out a retort. A quiet fury grasps him tight, but he forces himself to keep under a tight lid.

Woods holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"Look, I’m just saying, that woman is a loose cannon- you can’t be too careful."

"We have everything under control, Woods. And this is the least of your worry right now."

"Alright, okay. If you say you and Park have her contained already, then fine. I trust you,” he says and heads for the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Woods says again. He’s facing the door, back to him. “Whatever happens, keep Mason in the dark about any of this."

“Of course. He isn’t on a need to know basis from the very start, you know that.”

"Good. ‘cause the less he knows the better." Woods pauses like he's constructing an entire sentence in his head. He peers over his shoulder. "I mean it. He’s been through enough. I don’t know which ground you crawled up from, but up here, some people implement this kind of civility to other people.”

The words sting, yet Adler stares back at him, seemingly unfazed. "What, you’re saying that I’m simply heartless?”

“Nah,” Woods says, satirical and sardonic. “You’re just Adler.” And with that, he’s gone.

1976

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was eight o'clock on a mid-September evening and Adler found himself coming home to an empty house.

His wife had already left a week prior, crossing the country with a self-proclaimed film critic she'd met at the premiere of The Shining last summer, but Adler didn't know that yet.

He went to the kitchen. Dropped his suitcase, pulled off his coat and scarf. He reeked of cigarettes, cheap air freshener and jet fuel- air travel is simply sickening, in terms of its cost and smell- and in a desperate need of a hot bath.

"Honey?" He switched the lights on. She wasn't here. So Adler headed upstairs, to their room where they would rest their bones every night for the past 15 years. The door was slightly ajar. He expected to see her sleeping from under the duvet, hair splaying all over the pillow.

What he found was a folded note on his bedside table. He stared at it, his heart at his throat, fearing the worst, the unimaginable. He picked the letter and unfolded it.

Forgive me.

Russell,

Live or die, but don't poison everything .

His head did pirouette. So, this was it. This was what it felt like, he thought.

Not heartbreak, not sadness. But a collapse of the world- his world and all he could do was watch from the sidelines.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

1981

Adler stares at the words now, sleeves rolled up, anatomical heart. The paper is fading, wrinkled and it smells like smoke and decay and tears, capped with something akin to regret.

It has his name on it, begins with it, and ends with an apology, written in cursive. Like microscopic snakes dancing around his peripheral vision, hissing in his ears.

Live or die, but don't poison everything.

No one likes to be told that they are sick, but Russell Adler has learned to acknowledge it, embrace it, weaponize it. Her words mean zero shit to him now. You can't condemn someone to the depths of hell when it's the only place he's known all his life.

So, he takes the letter for the last time, remembering how the ink used to smudge his calloused fingers, crumples it up, that satisfying crunch dins in his palm, and tosses it into the fireplace.

The paper crackles. Good fucking riddance. It really takes all this time for him to grow the guts, apparently, and he just stares and stares as the fire begins to engulf everything, wiping away his past failure.

He promises he would never fail again, at anything. No matter what the cost, failure is never going to be an option.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bell arrives at the garage with frantic eyes, a half-burnt cigarette between her lips and uncharacteristically late. Color peppering her cheeks- red, like an apple bitten into.

“I’m sorry, I overslept,” is her excuse, but she’s looking at the room strangely, he thinks, almost like she’s seeking a particular face.

When she makes her way to her desk, when she whizzes past him by the board and her planet is entering his orbit for the first time in the morning, Adler, as if by accident or by design, inhales deeply.

His breath snags.

She smells like someone else.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Someone fucked her last night)

The telephone rings in the distance.

“Sims. Yeah, sure, let me get him. Hold on.” He puts the call on hold. “Doc, you might wanna take this one.”

(Someone was in her bed; beside her, above her, under her. Inside her. He imagines her fingers digging into the mattress as they rolled her onto her stomach, mouth trailing down the ladder of her spine. Their breaths intermingled in the seraphic glow of her hotel room)

Adler mechanically crosses the room and picks the receiver.

“Adler.”

(If he herds her away from prying eyes and pushes down the collar of her shirt, would he see the evidence there, taunting him? If he kisses her, would he taste them instead of her? )

"Perhaps," he says over the phone, his face hard. "But my decision is final. I'm sending Woods and Mason to Yamantau. They'll leave in a few days."

(Did they make her come?)

"Of course. Why do you think I chose them for this mission?"

(If she made them?)

“Most likely, but we're prepared for this- you know we are," Adler says, customer service polite, an old recording on a playback. "Right. Well, that concludes the matter then. Yeah, you have a wonderful day to yourself.”

Adler hangs up the telephone. Breathes out a sigh. He pinches the bridge of his nose for a few good seconds, before remembering that he has an audience.

"Oof. Sounds rough," comments Sims, dark eyes slanting in concern.

(Maybe she likes that, rough. Teeth biting the back of her shoulder, that sweet juxtaposition of pain and pleasure coursing through their veins, his hand curling around her throat from behind as she pants and mewls like-)

(But this isn’t about him. Never about him)

"That's one way to put it."

Someone else fucked her. It shouldn't leave an acrid taste in his mouth, but it does.

[saviorsbookcafe]

The Savior’s Book Café in Another World: Chapter 5

INDEX || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Chapter 5: Shrinking Distance

Translated by: sydney Proofread by: Necro

The day after I gave Ill the drink with restoration magic on it, he came back at the usual time looking considerably better, and the bags under his eyes had faded a little.

It seems like he hasn't noticed the spell himself, but if he's feeling even a little better, then I'm glad, I tell myself, relieved.

On his order, I casted a slightly weaker version of the spell than yesterday, and brought it to his table.

“Here you are.”

“Oh, thanks. Tsukina, did you know this book has a sequel?”

“Oh really? I looked, but I didn't find anything.”

The book in his hand is one I had just stocked the other day.

It ended at a very intriguing part, but even when I heard that was the end, I couldn't stop wondering.

“I only learned about it recently, but apparently this author publishes under another name too, and they have a sort of spinoff story under that name. Only I haven't been able to find the actual book. I was interested in reading it, so I looked around, but I thought maybe you'd be able to find it.”

“I'll try. Thanks for telling me. If there's a sequel, I want to read it too.”

It's at these times that I realize how nice it is that we have the same taste in books.

He likes the books I like, and vice versa.

Even if I can search for and summon books with this pendant, I can't summon something I can't find.

In the end, this pendant is only for summoning things, so I can't use it to search for things.

If I don't have a keyword to search something by, I can't summon it.

If the author had the same name, I would be able to summon the book easily, but if I didn't know that they published under a different name like this, then I wouldn't be able to summon it.

It really is nice to have someone to talk to about books.

My friends in my old world weren't the type to obsess over books, and my family....

“......”

I shake my head lightly, and tell Ill to take his time before I return to the counter.

I'm interested in the book Ill told me about, but I can't summon it now.

I decide to wait a few days before telling him I found it, and open the book in front of me for now.

As time passed, Ill and I sometimes spoke while continuing to read our books, and it eventually came to the time when I watched Ill get ready to leave.

“Tsukina.”

“What is it? If it's about the book you told me about, I'm going to look for it?”

“No...thank you,” Ill smiles, a book in his hand.

He walked over to the bookshelf just a bit ago, so he must have picked it up then.

I thought surely he'd ask me to hold onto it like usual, but then I saw the cover and smiled wryly.

“Sorry, I wasn't sure if it would be too much. You just seemed tired.”

The book in his hand was the textbook I pored through two days ago, where I found the restoration spell.

Typically, once I've finished reading a book, I put it on the shelves in the café, so I put this one out as well.

Ill hadn't picked up a magic textbook until now, so I didn't think he would notice today.

“Since I woke up today, my body felt light, and my mood has been better. Usually my stomach is in knots until I get here, but I felt so good today that even my friend was surprised. It was thanks to you, wasn't it?”

He thanked me with another smile, and my heart skipped a beat as I looked at his face.

“Um, I'm glad it made you happy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before.”

“No, let me thank you. Usually things with this kind of enchantment cost a lot, so had I known I would have given you more. Everything here is already cheap, so I can pay you more.”

“This isn't something I'm doing for the café, I just did it because you seemed tired and I wanted you to feel better. I have plenty of magic, so I can continue enchanting your food for you if you don't mind.”

“That's.... I'm really grateful, but are you sure?”

“After all, if you're tired don't you get sleepy? If you're tired then no matter how interesting a book you're reading, you don't really take it in, and you get to the end of a page only to realize you're falling asleep with the book open. It feels like such a waste, right? I hate wanting to focus and read but being so tired I have to stop.”

“I understand that well. When you're reading a sequel and there are parts you don't remember it's frustrating. It's fun to reread a book, but it's nice to remember the important parts. That way, rereading the book is much more enjoyable.”

“Right? You might as well know everything that's going to happen so you can see all of the foreshadowing when you read it again...or not. I'm also the type who likes to focus on a book, and I thought maybe you were too. That's one kind of magic that's easy to use for me, and if it helps you too then I'm glad.”

“Tsukina.... Thank you. Can I ask you to do that then?”

“Yes, did it taste okay?”

“It was delicious, as always.”

“I'm glad. As the Knight Captain, you must have a lot of work, and there must be a lot of difficult things, but I hope you can at least rest while you're here.”

“...yeah, thank you.”

I've lost count of how many times he's said that, but a smile appeared on his face as if he were thinking of something else.

Some time after that day, I think Ill started to hold back even less.

I've touched my friends before, but somehow this feels different.

He came to the café today as well, but a short while after we each started reading our respective books, I realized that the sound of pages turning had stopped and looked up.

With his chin resting in his hand, his elbow braced on the table and the book he was reading in his lap, Ill's eyes were closed.

At first I thought he had finished reading and was just immersed in his book's world, but I was surprised to find he actually seemed to be sleeping.

Regardless of the fact that there were no other customers present, Ill didn't seem like the type of person to doze off in a place like a café.

But no matter how long I looked at him, he didn't show any sign of waking up.

“...he seems to still be just as tired as before.”

No matter how relaxing this café might be for him, or how much he can enjoy his hobbies and destress, there hasn't been any change in whatever's happening during the day that makes him so tired.

I quietly leave the counter and put the scarf I've been using on his shoulders.

He still doesn't wake up, and I look at him, worry over his tiredness and happiness over the fact that he trusts me enough to let down his guard both bubbling up in me.

It's him after all, if another customer were to come in, he would probably wake up, but he seems to trust me so much that even when I get close enough to touch his shoulder he doesn't wake up.

Recently, perhaps due to the effects of the magic, he's been looking better, and the bags under his eyes are fading.

The only inhabitant of this world who I've come into contact with, and it's someone who shares such similar taste in hobbies as me that we can talk about them together, something that never even happened in my old world.

Every day I get to be immersed in my hobbies, and thanks to this pendant, I don't have to worry about the future.

That said, it's not like I don't care about the fact that I was forced to come here and leave everything I had known behind.

When I think about my life, it's always the one from the world where I lived for more than thirty years that comes to mind.

When I wonder how my friends, who I'd promised to go out with this next break, are doing, there's only one answer.

My existence was erased from that world.

They don't know me anymore, they're living like normal in a world where only I don't exist.

My life here is fun, but it can get lonely too.

This is my only friend I've made in a world I don't know.

Since I met Ill, I've begun thinking about the days we've spent together more and more.

I don't feel as lonely, and I'm incredibly grateful to him for that.

Even though I don't have connections with anyone outside of Ill.

“Sorry I don't go outside.”

I have a feeling that even if I were to go out, at this age, except for people at the same workplace or learning the same things as me, it would be hard to make friends.

In a way, meeting Ill and becoming friends was something of a miracle.

From my first customer, to a regular, and from a reading companion to an amiable friend, and...

“From just a friend, to closer friends, or something like that.”

I gently place a bookmark in the book still open on Ill's lap.

This way, even if it happens to close, it'll be fine.

I gave him an enchanted alarm, so even if he has somewhere to be, he'll probably wake up in time, so I'll let him sleep for now.

Oh, but maybe I should wake him up if I see a good time to.

The book sitting on his lap is one I bought for myself to read.

It's a book I planned to read and put into the café when I was done, but I had intended to leave it in the private room for a short while to enjoy.

If Ill hadn't told me he was looking for this book, I probably wouldn't have put it in the café for at least a month.

When I put it out, only Ill was coming to the café, so I could read as much as I wanted, but the books I put into the café have been enchanted with various spells, so there is a difference between them and my personal books.

I've casted spells to prevent spills or damage not on the books but on the entire café itself, so that the books within all receive the effect and I don't have to enchant each one of them individually.

The spells I cast on the books in the café are to prevent anyone from taking them, so if they're outside the café for long enough, they'll automatically return here.

That's why I had planned to leave this book in the private room to enjoy, as I hadn't cast any spells on it yet, but when Ill said he was looking for it, I brought it out here.

Apparently this was a book Ill had always wanted to read, so he was enjoying reading it, but it seems the exhaustion won.

If he's able to sleep to some extent, he'll probably feel more refreshed, and he'll want to keep reading too, so I decide to wake him up after a short while, and quietly return to the counter.

I considered reading a bit more, but if I focus too much on reading, I might forget to wake up Ill, so I decided to do some other work in the meantime.

I pull the basket in the corner towards myself and take out the contents.

Inside it were handmade cloth book covers.

They'll look nice on the books, and I can use them when I want to change the mood.

Since I have plenty of time, I thought I'd try to make them myself.

I made them occasionally in my old world as well, so I already know how.

I can't take out needles and thread in the café, so I've already finished the sewing part.

All that's left is to put them on the decorative books that have nothing written in them and decorate them.

I could summon the finished products with my pendant, but I enjoy making them by hand, and having nothing to do all day is boring.

That's why I'm trying to do this myself.

Inside the basket are about twenty book covers, separated by size.

I tried different ones on the books, putting them on and removing them as I wondered which ones to use.

I may have my ideal café, but being able to change smaller things like this is very fun.

It might also be thanks to Ill, who notices when I change things and tells me his thoughts.

Finally, I put the finished books with their various covers in the café where I'd planned, and thought it would be a good time to wake up Ill.

“Ill, are you going to wake up soon?”

“...mn.”

I watch him slowly open his almond-shaped eyes, and think, He really is good-looking.

He's composed and handsome, and he has a good personality and has a high status.

More importantly, we have the same hobbies and both love books as much as each other, to the point that he's probably a better friend than I deserve.

That friend looked at me with a confused expression, probably from having just woken up.

My heart leapt in my chest at his expression that almost seemed to read my thoughts.

I looked at him, thinking Beautiful people are intimidating, huh, and after a moment, I panicked and looked around myself quickly, flustered.

“Sorry for waking you. I thought maybe you'd want to read more.”

“...was I asleep?”

“Completely. If you're still sleepy, there is a private room with a bed.”

“No, no I'm fine. Thanks for waking me up.”

His expression still dazed, Ill notices my scarf on his shoulders and hands it back to me with a thanks.

It seems his falling asleep surprised him too.

He does seem really tired, I wish there was something else I could do for him.

I get the feeling it's been awhile since I last wanted to do something for someone else.

And now it's for someone from a different world who has no relation to the world I was born in.

When God told me I was going to be a Savior, I thought, Why should I throw away everything I have and act for the sake of a world and a people I don't know and have no connection to?

It's not like I don't feel guilty, but even though my very existence in my old world was erased, I simply cannot imagine wanting to sacrifice myself for the people of this world.

I absolutely do not want to introduce myself as a Savior, and I don't want that fact to be found out.

But...not as a Savior, but as a friend, I want to help him.

I moved away from Ill, who had fully woken up and begun reading again, back to the counter as I thought.

“Sorry about today, asking to borrow your personal books and not even reading them.”

“I don't mind lending my books to a friend. Either way, there aren't any other customers coming, and I'm glad you were able to rest.”

“I really didn't think I'd fall asleep here.”

I smile at Ill, who has a slightly embarrassed expression on his face.

“I'm glad this café has become a place where you can relax, so don't worry about it. You're in the middle of this book, right? Do you want to borrow it?”

“Is that okay?”

“This is one of my books, not the café's, so it's no problem. I've finished reading it already.”

“Thanks, I'll read it during my break at work. I'm not doing any subjugation work tomorrow, only office work, so it won't get dirty.”

“I can't imagine you would damage a book. Oh, right.”

I pull several book covers from the basket I left next to the register, and cast a spell on them to prevent damage.

Now, any book it's on won't get damaged or dirty.

“If you'd like, you can have this. I made it myself, so it's not all that well-made, but it's enchanted. If you put this cover on the book, it'll be like the books in the café, and won't get soiled or damaged.”

“...using advanced magic, as always.”

“O-oh, well, I've always been good with this kind of magic.”

Startled by Ill, who's smiling wryly, I make the excuse that I've always been good with magic.

As long as I don't use Great Magic, the Savior's Mark won't glow, so he shouldn't find out that I'm a Savior, but maybe in the café, or rather, in front of Ill, I shouldn't use such advanced magic so often.

In regards to Ill, it's too late to hide it, so I decide not to worry too much about it.

He doesn't seem like the type to talk about others all that much, so I should be fine.

I watch with an amused expression as Ill takes the book cover and puts it delicately into his bag.

“I'm good at offensive magic, but I'm terrible with this sort of day-to-day magic. With this book cover, I won't have to worry about taking my books out with me. Thank you.”

“I'm glad it'll be useful. Even you have magic you're not good at, huh. Offensive magic's the one I can't use at all.”

“Your will affects how well your magic works. If I tried to attack a normal person in town who has no ability to fight back, my magic won't work. You might also feel like you're not good in a fight.”

That must be it. I finally get it.

I have no will to fight, so I can't cast anything but powerless spells that make even me want to cry.

Just knowing that I'm not the only one who can't use offensive magic is relieving.

“I know you have to fight as part of your job, but try not to overwork yourself. I've gotten used to you coming here, so it'd be lonely if you stopped coming. Oh, but you don't have to force yourself to come, just make sure to rest up first and foremost.”

“To me right now, coming to this café is the most restful thing. Before I found this café, I was barely eating, and had no appetite.”

“Wait, what about now? You eat at the café, but are you eating during the day or on days you don't come?”

“Yeah, since that first day I came and ate here, my appetite came back too. Although I eat the most here. Your cooking is just to my taste, it's delicious.”

He smiles at me so warmly, and I feel my face heat up with happiness and embarrassment.

Hearing my cooking be called delicious is pure happiness.

“Well, sometimes I get so caught up in reading that I forget a meal.”

“Ahh, I'd say to be careful, but I know I do that too.”

“Here, since I can eat while reading, it's easy to eat meals. Thanks to this book cover, it looks like I'll be able to do the same in my room.”

Ill lightly taps his bag happily, and I smile at him.

The fact that even our bad habits from loving books so much are the same is funny.

“I'll come again tomorrow. Thanks for everything today. I'll take good care of the book cover.”

“Don't worry about it, thank you for today.”

After I watch Ill leave the café, I clean up inside and hang a “Closed” sign on the door.

Just knowing I'll be able to see Ill tomorrow somehow makes me very happy.

The day after Tsukina gave me the book cover at her café, it was something of a special day for those at the castle.

In the bustling castle hall, a group of vendors had opened shops, and various overflowing products were lined up.

As of now, it was only opened to the castle's inhabitants, and the royal family and knights were looking around pleasantly.

Like this, not only were the royal family and knights able to shop without worrying about their status, but it was a nice sight, fitting for this peaceful country.

With the young Savior girl nowhere to be seen, it felt like returning to the peaceful times of before, but it was a little lonely with the Second Prince missing from the royal family's cheerful conversation.

Before, he would have happily gifted the Queen and Princess presents here.

It's strange that the Prince, who used to always think about his family, is now doing anything and everything for that Savior girl, but we can't do anything about it.

“Ahh, today sure is peaceful. The Savior's got her own time with the Prince reserved for shopping after, right?”

“Yeah, the King was considerate, saying that way everyone else can take their time looking around.”

“The fact that the Savior has her own time reserved in the first place makes me angry, but shopping at the same time as her would be even more irritating, so we have to be grateful for the King's sympathy.”

“Even if it is a reserved time, it's only about an hour. After that, it opens to the castle town, so they have to be gone by then.”

“I see. Well an hour should be enough for that Savior. She seems to get bored easily, so she'll probably be satisfied with a short time. In any case," Beork looked around excitedly before looking at the Princess and smiling, "I'm gonna buy her something. It's been awhile since I've had the opportunity to.”

“Yeah, I'm sure she'll be happy.”

“It'd be nice if you had someone to give gifts to too. It's pretty fun to pick things out for someone. One of the drawbacks of being our age is that almost everyone already has a partner, but if you find a single woman, it'd probably work to approach her,” Beork told me with a teasing smirk.

“I'd like to tell that line to the you of a little while ago,” I replied, and he was silent.

“Back when you wouldn't refuse what came to you and wouldn't go after the things that left you, failing to approach the Princess and instead single-mindedly worrying about her.”

“I'm forever indebted to you for that....”

Laughing off Beork, who has his head hanging dejectedly, I tap him on the back lightly and urge him to go towards the Princess.

It was about one year ago when he was worried about things like the age or status difference, and I pushed him.

Even though the things Beork was worried about weren't things the royal family had any concerns with.

This is really a peaceful and nice country.

It'd be nice to return to how things were before the Savior girl came, soon.

Watching Beork make his way to the Princess, I look around again.

The busy shops are likely the ones with food from other countries.

The members of the Knights eat like horses.

The King and Queen are cheerfully looking at decorations, and in front of a different decoration shop were Beork and the Princess.

With a happy blush on her face, the Princess pulled on Beork's arm.

Watching Beork's eyes crinkle as he looks at the Princess lovingly, I feel something indescribable, but assume it's happiness for my friend.

I walked around, looking at and peeking into the shops every so often.

Normally, I would go straight for the old bookshop or go with my subordinates to look at the food.

Now, not only can I read most of the books I want to read at Tsukina's café, but I can try different types of food that are just to my taste.

I look around the shops briefly before deciding to look at weapons maintenance equipment.

After I've looked around a little more, I hear the Princess happily saying, “Thank you,” and turn to look.

The Princess was smiling brightly, looking at a necklace Beork must have given her.

Getting a gift really does make you happy.

I remember the book cover Tsukina gave me and a smile appears on my face.

It has magic to prevent the book from being soiled, but thanks to the subdued design, it's made my reading time that much more enjoyable.

She casually gave me something with an advanced spell that she casted easily, but if I were to buy something like this at the market, it would be a very high-class item.

Come to think of it, the recovery magic she puts on my food and drinks for me is advanced magic too, and she doesn't take any money for the horse feed she gives my horse either.

“A gift, huh.”

I remember Tsukina's face from when she saw me off yesterday.

A book collection filled with books I've been interested in but could never find, the delicious and gently-flavored dishes, the comfortable chairs and the calm atmosphere, and her always considerate smile.

I'm there almost every day, but I want to spend even more time at that café.

“If it's as a thank-you for everything, maybe she'd take it.”

I look at the shops around me and think.

I wonder if she'd be happy to receive something from me, or if it'd make her smile.

She probably wouldn't take money, but it should be fine if I buy something for her.

This is the first time I've thought about wanting to give a gift to anyone, let alone a woman my own age.

I smile wryly as I look around the shops.

But because I've never given someone a gift like this before, I immediately hit a wall.

“...I have no idea what to buy.”

Even just whispering it to myself is pathetic.

Far from being able to choose a gift, I can't even think of what might be good.

I know that giving her a book would be strange.

No, for Tsukina, that might make her happy instead.

As I drove the probably correct predictions to the edges of my brain, I desperately looked over the decorations in the shops.

I thought about asking Beork, but I shook my head, an uncomfortable feeling washing over me.

I trust Beork and think of him as one of my best friends, but I don't like the idea of giving something he chose to her.

At any rate, I want to give her something I chose.

Not another man, but me.

“...hm?”

It felt like my thoughts were heading in a strange direction, but while it felt off, I couldn't figure out why.

I thought about it for a moment, but I couldn't figure out what was weird, so I decided to just put it aside for now.

Right now, my priority is to find a gift for her.

I narrow the items in the shop down to the ones with simple designs and compare them.

She doesn't seem like she likes anything too flashy, and I should probably avoid anything like rings or bracelets that would get in the way of cooking.

She's often carrying books too, so a corsage or a broach would probably get in the way.

A necklace, or maybe earrings?

My wandering gaze eventually lands on a hair-tie with a white flower attached to it sitting in the corner.

The flower was somewhat big, but the design was subdued.

Tsukina always ties her hair to the side or behind, but it's always with a normal hair-tie, without any decoration.

This shop sells one-of-a-kind items, so it's unlikely that she would already have one of these.

Once I thought that, there was no other option that came to mind.

When I think about if she'll be disappointed at a less expensive item, I look at the price tag and see that the number marked is just enough.

I decide to buy it, and call over to the shop owner.

“Excuse me, could I get this wrapped?”

“Yes. Thank you very-- S-Soeil-sama!”

Turning around to take out the item, the store owner was extremely surprised at me calling out to her.

Realizing that she was staring at me strangely, she frantically smiled at me again and began to wrap up the hair-tie.

I don't know why, but I'm glad the wrapping design also looks like something Tsukina will like.

I hand her the money and take the wrapped gift and smile.

It certainly is fun to pick out a gift for someone.

I think she'll like it, I think, and once I finish shopping, I have the afternoon off.

I decide to go to her café a little early today.

Thinking it strange that my lively surroundings had gone quiet, I turned to leave.

Translation Notes:

“hair-tie”: I tried to look up what this would be called but I couldn't find it, but it's one of those strings used to tie your hair (not really a ribbon, but like a cord) with a decorative flower on it; if anyone want to tell me what this is called, please do :")

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Sixth Sense - Chapter 6

Paring: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2044

Warnings: Mentions of death/injury

Posted: 29/01/2021

"Steve this is-"

"I know. Tony doesn't even know you've seen this."

"This item- This is why I can do what I do. I-" You looked behind you seeing Loki's look of amusement and curiosity. Steve's eyes followed yours towards him. Giving a kind smile and introducing himself. He had kept his Luke persona, not wanting to seem suspicious.

"Luke, you should head home. This is official government business."

"Sure. Let's meet up again soon, Kitten." You smiled towards him, trying to hide your flustered state. You didn't expect him to give you a pet name. In front of Steve no less. He entered the elevator and waved as the doors shut. Steve chuckled before looking at you.

"Kitten?" He couldn't hide the amused look on his face.

"It's a nickname he used when we were younger." He nodded in understanding, taking a breath ready to speak before you. Knowing he wouldn't let it drop you tried to change the subject.

"Anyways, let's get back to the file"

"Okay, Kitten" You slapped his head with the file.

"Don't call me that!" The amusement never left his features but he let it go for now. The file was more important than teasing you at that moment. Flicking your eyes towards the pages in your hand you had read everything. How Tony found you. The item you had held in your hand. That was the source of your power. And it was a yellow stone. Just looking at it you knew exactly what it was. An infinity stone. SHIELD tried taking it from you but you had used a shockwave of energy to stop anyone from getting close to you. Except for Tony. No one knew why. But they said they would come back for me once he calmed me down. They had tried to take you in, but Tony had declined. He looked after you for 5 years before he let SHIELD take you in. But you had no memory of your life before Tony found you. You had pictures of your family with you. So you placed them in your house, hoping that you would remember them, even just a little. But nothing came. It was like your memory was wiped. But if you touched it again. Maybe you would get your memories back. Suddenly you knew where it was. It was in the building.

You dropped the papers at your feet. You looked up to the ceiling. You needed to get there. It called to you. Steve tried to get your attention, but you couldn't hear him. All you could hear was the faint hum coming from upstairs. You ditched the elevator and used the stairs to get there quicker. Once you entered the lab Bruce and Tony looked in your direction quizzically. Your head snapped towards the sceptre in the corner. You ignored any word that came from their mouths. You walked towards the table taking the blue orb from the sceptre. You crushed it in your hand revealing the stone that called out to you. Once it touched your skin a yellow glow coursed through your veins. A shockwave shook the entire building causing all the avengers present to make their way to you, the source.

After mere moments the shockwave died down and you kept the stone tight in your grip, tears flowing down your face. You turned to see the Avengers facing you, worry and shock covering their faces. You gazed at your hand that was holding the stone. Your veins were no longer glowing. You had faced them again before dropping to your knees, gripping the stone tightly, never letting it go.

"I remember…" Tears fell from your face. Natasha had slowly made her way to you trying to comfort you. But it didn't stop you from speaking. "I remember everything...Tony, you saved me. Even before you were Iron Man. You...You took me in, knowing I was dangerous. But you saw what I did, didn't you?" Your eyes never left him, they were filled with remorse and regret.

"Yes, I saw it"

"Then why? Why did you help me after I killed all those people?"

"You were just a kid! You didn't know what power you possessed, or how to control it. But you seemed to trust me. So I took you in, knowing that if I did you wouldn't hurt anyone." Your eyes narrowed as you made your way onto your feet once more.

"I killed my family Tony. I was just playing, collecting pretty rocks. Then I saw this one-" You raised your clenched fist. "-it spoke to me. Then once I touched it, a blast radiated from my body. My family was nearby. They got caught in the blast."

"It wasn't your fault kid-"

"The stone- It showed me. That I could trust you. If I wasn't holding it, I doubt I would've trusted anyone. But once I let it go. I lost all of my memories, except for my name."

"Y/N-” You stared blankly at Tony. The tears on your face were now dry.

"Tony. Thank you for saving me. And trusting me. But I can't be trusted anymore. Now that I know how I got my abilities. I don't trust myself."

"We can work through this, just drop the stone."

"I can't. It's a part of me. I can see its future. You and Bruce will create an unimaginable being using this."

"You can see the future?"

"No, just the path of the stone. I can see how it got into Thanos' hands. How he gave it to Loki before sending him here to destroy Earth. He wasn't lying. Loki was tortured to do what he did. And, it was used to enhance humans. Twins. They gained power from it" The look of pity showed on everyone's faces, they finally realised he wasn’t the bad guy after all. But after you spoke the stone burned your hand causing a scream from your throat as you dropped the stone, cradling your hand, holding it to your chest as heavy breaths left your lungs. Bruce slowly made his way to you, careful not to awaken any unknown abilities, before holding your hand upwards to check the injury, you had some burn marks but it slowly disappeared. Meaning it healed.

“It healed. Bruce what’s-”

“I don’t know, but it has something to do with the stone.”

“Test me.”

“What?”

“Run some tests, experiment on me I don’t care just figure this out. Please” The plea lest your mouth without any thought. You didn’t know what you were any more or what the stone had done to you. But something in you changed when you touched it again. Not just your returned memory, but there was something in your head. You didn’t know what it was. But it was dangerous, you knew what much at least.

“I’m not going to do that, I’ll take a blood sample, but I won’t do anything to you unless your test results are abnormal.” Not being able to speak anymore you just nodded. Dry sobs escaped your throat as you held your hands to your chest. Tony had approached you and kneeled next to you before holding you in his arms. Letting you sob into his chest as you clenched his shirt. All of this new information at once was too much for you. You were trying to wrap your head around the memories of your past and the events that just took place.

It took weeks for your head to make sense of all the information. Now you could see the images in your head more clearly. You saw how the mind stone got into Thanos’ grasp, and how it eventually found its way to Loki, through HYDRA, and back to you. It started when a SHIELD agent took the stone from the storage container Fury had placed it in, and took it to a blue alien, that you somehow knew was a Kree. The Kree worked for Thanos, and gave it to him so he was able to place it within the sceptre and tortured Loki into submission before sending him to Earth to attack. Then the HYDRA agents within SHIELD took it to Sokovia, experimenting with it before it finally worked on some twins, giving them abilities beyond your comprehension. Then when the Avengers took the HYDRA base, they found the sceptre and brought it to Bruce’s lab, in the tower. It was hazy, but you could see the path it would lead. A robot. A bad one. Will create an amazing version of itself, filled with goodness, justice, a harmful creation. Thanks too, Tony and Bruce.

You couldn’t tell anyone what you know, except for one person. He came to see you quite often. You had grown closer, and eventually, a friendship bloomed. He always kept tabs of your condition. Checking to see if any ill effect emerged from the stone, but none did. Since you were told to stay away from any missions until your head is screwed on, you were bored in the tower, so Loki often brought you books from Asgard to soothe your mind. A year passed before you felt normal. And just in time too. Steve found out that his oldest friend, Bucky, was alive. He was brainwashed by HYDRA to become the perfect assassin. A week after you got home, Loki returned. you were reading a book while laying on your bed. You knew he was busy so it didn’t matter how long it took for him to return. You were just happy to see him. He appeared at the bottom of your bed, his face showed a sense of urgency.

“What did I tell you about just appearing out of thin air? They have eyes everywhere. You can’t just show up out of nowhere.”

“My apologies, but it was urgent.”

“What is it Lokes?” You placed a bookmark between the pages you were reading before lowering your book next to you on the bed.

“It appears that something is different within you.”

“What? But I feel fine-”

“That’s precisely what’s wrong” Hearing that made you question everything. How could your recovery be a problem?

“What do you mean?” He sat at the bottom of your bed as he explained.

“I’ve been researching Infinity stones from Odins collection of private information. And Midgardians -much like yourself- shouldn’t be able to wield them. So the fact that you held one and survived was a surprise but twice? Now, that’s curious.” He held his chin in thought, gaze to the window.

“That was over a year ago-”

“Yes, but that’s exactly what I mean. It took a year to the day, for you to feel normal again, correct?” His eyes returned to you, pleading answers.

“Well yes, but what does that have to do anything?”

“This has happened only once in Asgardian history. Odin had kept notes on it. After you told me you felt normal again, I had to read over them again. And the only time in history a human could wield an infinity stone was when they weren’t fully human” The conclusion seemed impossible, but after everything you’ve seen as a SHIELD agent, it seemed more possible than you would originally think.

“Wha- You’re saying that I’m part alien? Me?”

“Yes, and since there are no physical changes in you I would assume you have Asgardian blood.” He concluded with a bored look.

“Asgardian? But Bruce took multiple blood samples, they all showed that I was 100% human.”

“What about recently?”

“I-I haven’t had a blood test in 6 months.”

“Get one done. Trust me on this, if I am correct, I will be able to help you.” His eyes were soft and full of truth. He just wanted to save you from whatever was happening.

“Okay, I’ll ask Bruce to check again” He nodded before disappearing. But something else took his place. Resting atop your sheets, was a golden book. It had Odin’s markings on the front. You knew it was the book he spoke of, with The Kings notes of everything he knew about Infinity Stones. You had the information you needed, now all you had to do was get the confirmation of your blood type.

Sixth Sense Taglist: @lovermrjokerr @lord-byron @lucywrites02 @violetica @quirkyreaderwriter @prettysbliss @ditsyisadumbadjective

[dvp95]

meet me in the afterglow

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: explicit tags: getting back together, smut, hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, introspection word count: 1.5k summary: It had been Phil's decision, after all. Okay, technically, it had been a mutual decision, but it had been Phil who actually said the words. They're supposed to be past it by now.

written as a commission fill for ros ♥

read on ao3 or here!

They're sitting on opposite ends of the couch, idly scrolling on their own devices while Buffy acts as a comforting third party on the TV. Ever since he'd first gotten Dan to watch the show, Phil tends to just keep restarting it every time they hit Chosen again. Nothing else is quite as effective in breaking the quiet that could easily get into awkward territory as the familiar snappy dialogue and fight scenes.

Phil hasn't been paying enough attention to the episode they're on. He glances up and sees Tara in the doorway, hears her say, "Things fall apart. They fall apart so hard."

He stands up and mumbles something about going to the bathroom. Dan barely looks away from his laptop, but he asks if Phil wants him to pause the show. Even though they've both seen it so many times, Dan always offers. He's considerate that way.

"No, don't bother," says Phil. "I know how it ends."

Tara is asking if they can skip the hard part of making up and just be kissing again when Phil leaves the lounge. He wonders if Dan is invested enough in the plot to hear the speech, cognizant enough to make the connection to Phil abruptly leaving, or if he's too focused on whatever Reddit thread he's come across to give Tara and Willow any spare thought. Maybe the scene doesn't hit as close to home for Dan as it does for Phil.

It had been Phil's decision, after all. Okay, technically, it had been a mutual decision, but it had been Phil who actually said the words.

They're supposed to be past it by now.

Maybe things would have been easier if they weren't still best friends. They hadn't wanted to get their own places, didn't want to make a bigger deal of the breakup than absolutely necessary. That was a few years ago now - Phil acts like he can't remember the exact date, but he thinks Dan can probably see past his fake cheerfulness every time the anniversary passes - but sometimes it still hits Phil like a fresh wave of bitterness and remorse.

It's not like he's had a lot of experience with this sort of thing. He hadn't had anything that looked like a relationship before Dan tumbled into his life, and there were a lot of things that he thinks he could do better now, if he was given the chance.

They're different people now. Phil has a better handle on his anxiety and a better perspective on what he can do to keep his private life private; Dan has settled confidently into his own skin and gotten through so much of his baggage with his therapist that he's tried to use some of the techniques on Phil whenever he won't talk about his feelings.

"If I wanted to be in therapy," Phil had recently snapped, strung taut by plans of a second world tour coming together to create a terrifying, overambitious picture, "then I'd be in therapy, Dan."

Dan had only shrugged. He rarely seemed to feel any guilt for attempting 'healthy communication', as he always called it. "Just trying to help."

Sometimes Phil hates him for that, but it never lasts. Phil might be able to hold a grudge with the best of them, but that had never applied to Dan. They're too entwined in each other at this point, too purposefully connected in every facet of their lives, for Phil to allow the irritation to make any sort of home in his chest. It's always been easier to let the arguments happen and then let them go.

Phil waits until he can hear Dawn Summers shrieking with happiness over the witches getting back together before he goes back to the lounge. He wonders if anyone would be that happy if he and Dan were to - but that way lies madness. He can't think about that. It's too easy to cling to faint hope that never really went away.

--

Phil can't be sure if it was Buffy that did it or not, but he's inclined to believe that it is. It's too much of a coincidence that Dan would knock lightly on his bedroom door a couple days later and give him a tired sort of grin.

"Hey," he says, and Phil wonders if he forgot to unload the dishwasher last night or something.

"Hi," says Phil. He slides his finger between the pages of his book and closes the cover gently, keeping his place while he gives Dan his attention. "Everything okay?"

Dan shrugs, hands shoved deep in his sweatpant pockets. He looks like he's been awake for too long, like he forgot to sleep again, and Phil's surge of protectiveness feels instinctual. He hates when Dan doesn't sleep, whether it's on purpose or not. It feels like he should be up with him, at least, keeping him company while thoughts ricochet around Dan's brain like a pinball machine.

"Things are," Dan hesitates for a fraction of a second, "fine."

It's pretty obvious to Phil that things aren't fine. He puts the receipt he's been using as a bookmark into his book and sets it aside. "C'mere."

Dan's whole body seems to slump forward in relief, and Phil feels like he's made the right decision. He sits up against his headboard properly and fluffs up the pillow he never uses. It’s the only thing on the side of the bed where a lanky boy took up too much space for so many years. Dan fills it again, sitting next to Phil and curling in on himself a bit. He leans into Phil, his curly head finding somewhere comfortable to rest on Phil's shoulder.

Wrapping his arm around Dan would jostle him, so Phil settles for putting his hand on Dan's knee and squeezing. He doesn't know if this is just one of Dan's hard days, which seem to be getting more and more frequent as the tour looms, or if it's something else entirely.

The room is quiet for a little while. It doesn't get anywhere near the realm of awkward, even with the cuddling. Phil's hope - dormant, insistent - flares again.

"I've been thinking," says Dan.

"Dangerous activity," Phil can't help himself from joking. He wonders if Dan is rolling his eyes or smiling. Or both, he supposes. A lot of the time, it's both. "What have you been thinking about?"

"I've been thinking that I don't want to do this without you," Dan says, a bit rushed. Phil is opening his mouth to ask for clarification when Dan's patented rambling barrels through. "The tour, yeah, but also the - the telling my family about me, which I want to do, but I don't want to do it alone. I don't want to do any of this alone."

Phil risks the grumbling to wrap both arms around Dan, pulling Dan against his chest in a proper cuddle. "You aren't alone. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," Dan says. He looks up at Phil, brown eyes wide and full of meaning and close, and Phil momentarily forgets how to breathe. "I know you're gonna be there for whatever I need you to be there for. I just. I want to do it with you, not just... beside you."

There's a chance, however small, that Phil is misreading the situation. He thinks about that and about the choices he'd made that led to this and about Tara's speech, and he decides that he can't keep pushing his hope down like it's an excitable puppy. He lets it consume him, instead, lets the warmth spread through his whole body before he rests his forehead against Dan's in supplication.

Dan doesn't seem to be asking for penance. Dan is asking for something much simpler.

--

There are a lot of things that Phil loves in this world. Pancakes, Buffy, the way a dog's tail wags when he says hello to them, so many things he could list for days and not even be close to hitting the end. Even so, there's nothing quite like the needy noises that echo around the room when Phil takes Dan's cock deep into his throat, twists his fingers inside Dan, keeps eye contact with Dan to watch the way he falls apart. He watches Dan arch up, sweat beading on his forehead, and feels Dan's hand pushing and pulling in his hair. Dan falling apart - that's what Phil loves most in this world. He can't believe he went so long without it, no matter what his reasons were at the time.

--

"Like riding a bike," Dan laughs and collapses against Phil's chest. His mouth follows a path from Phil's collarbones to his jaw, ending at his well-abused lips.

Phil grins into the kiss. He wants Dan closer, impossibly. He's got his arms around Dan, Dan's legs bracketing his hips, he's still inside of Dan, but it doesn't feel like enough. They trade lazy, sweaty kisses until Dan eventually starts complaining about needing a shower.

He isn't ready to let go of Dan again, even for a handful of minutes, but that's not a problem - although it hasn't been taken advantage of yet, the shower in this flat is definitely big enough for the two of them.

[jlf23tumble]

My 1D-related fic faves of 2019

I've read a TON of great fic this year in all kinds of fandoms, Jeeeeeeeeeesus, there are so many talented writers out there, but I won't list it all here (or even list everything I bookmarked this year). Instead, I'm gonna stick with 1D-related works released in 2019 that pulled me in hard and made me stare at the wall and/or read again and/or scream about with other people, and I'll try to do it in cutesie number order because WHY NOT make it that extra level of arbitrary, lmao. I love fanfic because no matter what fandom I'm dipping in, something new is gonna jump up and kill me (this year in particular, I've subscribed to a lot of "new to me" writers that I LOVE, and I hope you know who you are [do you know who you are, etc.]). Thank you for the free gifts, for your time, for your blood, sweat, and tears! I owe you hugs, coffee, and my undying love, gratitude, and support! I'll put my list under the cut to avoid some v. v. real screen scroll rage--happy new year, y'all!

2 lactation kink fics

(aka the Jaerie category, nobody else is out there writing this even as Harry's tits get bigger and milkier and why am I the only one fully appreciating all of it?????)

I Think You're Already Home, by jaerie, Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. (a December gift to remember for all of us! a/b/o dynamics, famous Louis, omega Harry--which is practically canon at this point--crippling agoraphobia, lactation-related sexiness, I would read at least ten (10) more chapters of this)

freaks from the internet, by jaerie. Harry sells his breast milk to freaks on the internet. Louis turns out to be one of those freaks. He also happens to be Harry's ex. (I legit can't believe this came out this year, I rec it all the time! it was anon for forever, and I was low-key obsessed because I just wanted mawrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr of it, and I got it, thank CHRIST)

3 fics for meeeeeeee

(These works were gifts to me, and I am so truly hashtag blessed to receive!!!)

I Just Wanna Taste It, by @homosociallyyours​. In his mind it's watermelon and sticky strawberry sweet, and he craves the feeling of his own round, firm belly warm under his hands on a summer evening. (Megan loves to kill me with Harry mpreg imaginings, and this one feels like canon to me!)

Powerless (and I Don't Care It's Obvious), by objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain​. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet. (AND YET!!! I don't even know where to start with how much I love Phoenix, what a treasure her work is in ANY fandom, how shitty this particular fandom has been to her, how much I'm gonna miss harry/louis fic gifts from her in the future, how HOT this pee kink fic is in general, dot dot dot)

Tuxedo Classic Dance Party, by Blake/ @newleafover​. Instead of flying out to meet his touring boyfriend in Madrid, Louis sticks around to be responsible and do things like dance at Lady Gaga night at the gay cowboy club in West Hollywood. (Blake has written at least five fics in various fandoms that I would say are my favorite fics of all time, but they really topped themselves with this one!)

4 fic series

(I feel like there are probably loads more that qualify, but these ones grabbed me in their own particular way)

Not That Gone, by abrighteryellow/ @a-brighter-yellow​. Louis’s 20-year high school reunion takes a turn when a celebrity classmate – who also happens to be Louis’s long unrequited crush – unexpectedly shows up. (this was inspired by Chris Evans, and both parts stand on their own, tbh)

Maybe I Miss You, by 13ways. Louis is on his way back to London after the Hits Live Birmingham concert. Harry is flying to New York for the Met Gala. They connect. (from the very first story in this series, I was HOOKED, canon angst that builds up to something truly wonderful)

There's something I want to try..., by TheMagicWord. Harry wants to try something. Louis's not convinced. Until he is. (the installments are super short, super hot)

One More Time Again, by orphan_account. On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right. (I'm sad that this author orphaned, but I seem to recall her getting a TON of shit, which is unfortunate because this is a great read, and part two is an imagining where Louis goes back instead)

5 fics featuring holidays

(These ones are basically from Christmas and Halloween of this year, so quite recent!!)

once bitten and twice shy, by @pinkcords​. In a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. (the notes on this one blew me away: first-time author, pinch-hitting for a fest, and damn, a knock out)

you've set my soul to dreaming, by we_are_the_same. Thirty-year-old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall. (I'm not always into this trope, but when it's done well? NICE, and this one did it well)

when half spent was the night, by @juliusschmidt​. I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit. (girl direction advent fic with pregnant Louis that’s incredibly well done, especially given how short it is, I was so sad to see it end, but the author says something about act II coming??? YES!!!)

Fictober 2019 Collection, by flowercrownfemme/ @lesbianiconharrystyles​. Features lots of monsters and creatures and Harry Styles being a general nightmare as well as a few Girl Direction drabbles and a timestamp for Fool For You and one for Treat Mothman With Kindness. (Chloe's Halloween drabbles, each of which could outrival other stories 4x the length...she's a GIFT)

Cat & Mouse, by jaerie. It's the one day out of the year that Harry doesn't have to hide and can be himself — at least he thought so. Louis is just a little more observant than he anticipated. (I'm not a big hybrid fic fan, BUT GOD THIS STORY IS SO GOOD, it's so short I wanna cry, but so good!!!)

6 a/b/o fics

(I can handle "traditional" a/b/o if it gives me my dose of omega Harry, but I absolutely adore "untraditional" a/b/o, you know, where it actually is NOT about straight dynamics being put on a m/m or f/f couple (excuse me, a/a or o/o)...these ones NAIL IT, as did the entire gaybo ficfest)

violence of my own touch, by 14hrflight/ @silverfoxlouis​. Louis hasn’t said anything, but Harry knows something is wrong. Harry’s rut had ended a few days ago, and Louis had kept him under as best as he could. (whenever I read Chi's alpha/alpha fics, I find myself internally screaming "CHI!!!" god, do they Get It, and I really hope they continue this one!)

Amor Victorious, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals​. Louis finds himself following Harry on a journey through Italy, complete with long train rides, greasy food, naked Christs, and too many lingering touches. They're definitely not like other tourists and he definitely doesn't have a crush on his best friend who happens to be an alpha, too. (this one came out during Thanksgiving week, so I held it to savor, and BOY, DID I SAVOR, it's so incredible, the gorgeous writing, the visceral, indescribable feeling of reading it, sighhhhhhh)

do you know me by heart, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals​. Harry comes back wearing alphas' scents, a pleased smile and a lace dress. Somehow, Louis still ends up making him come until he cries. (for me personally, 2019 was the year of Nina: getting to know them, catching up on all their writing, falling in love with the way they can kill us all with beautiful angst and the hint and hope of redemption...here's a tissue, you'll need it!!)

the way that you're thrilling me, by @hereforlou​. Alphas were smelly and cocky and mostly arseholes, in Harry’s experience. Or at least they were at school. He didn’t understand how his friends—lovely, soft-skinned, sweet-smelling omegas—could actually want to touch them, or be touched by them. (this is just one of the many, MANY faves I had from the gaybo ficfest, A+ all around)

Constant Debauchery, by Blake/ @newleafover​. Harry is an alpha who loves getting his mouth knotted by other alphas. Louis is happy to serve. Fun smut! But also angst and sexual awakenings. (Blake knows how to sum up their writing, lol, but YEAH, me as at least one of the comments both public and private saying they'd want to read 100k more of this)

how many nights did I crash against the waves, by Blake/ @newleafover​ Louis is going into heat and Harry thinks it's hot. (the SKILL of writing something that's 1.7k, yet builds a complete--and v. v. hot--world)

7 fics with Harry and someone else

(I still have a few I need to read in this category--I'm getting there! But these are some from my fave authors that really had me pondering some walls [heh])

I Want Your Belly, by @glasscushion​. Harry wants Adam to knock him up. Inspired by on-stage thirst, the Instagram Stories Shirt, Watermelon Sugar, and Harry’s persistent baby fever. (Adam/Harry, mpreg kink of the finest order!!)

Rachel, Nevada, by @vondrostes​. Harry has a close sexual encounter of the fourth kind. (Jeff/Harry, Rachel/Harry, and I honestly can't even BEGIN to describe this, holy WOW)

Sea Salt, by @glasscushion​. Nick's drunk, and he can't avoid his feelings forever. Set in 2013 and 2019. (Nick/Harry, rip gryles...the grylers I know had an absolute field day in terms of angst, damn!)

all my lies are safe beside you now, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals​. They both know what it was like to love Louis Tomlinson fiercely, irrevocably, ghosts of it on their skin, even if the traces were etched in vastly different ways. (Zayn/Harry, and FOR REAL, this is a huge ouch)

call me anything you like, but my name is, by @wishforwishes​. Some conversations are better left forgotten, some conversations are worth remembering, and some conversations you never get the chance to have. Featuring three mentors, two tea parties, one and a half recording studios, and a reference to Archie comics. (Harry/CHASM, essentially; LISTEN, I am obsessed with this fic, you don't need to read part one to really Get It, but the bits with Zayn, and James/Ben, and all the parts with Harry working through gender? SO GODDAMNED REAL)

Come Out and Play, by @dinosaursmate​. Harry and Louis discover a new kink in their relationship, and it brings all the boys closer than they could have ever imagined. (ot5 orgy, so not really Harry with anyone so much as everyone with everyone, and let's call this one canon)

Like a Rolling Stone, by @vondrostes​. By the end of it, Nick realised his tea had gone cold in his hand. He’d barely taken a single sip in the hour-plus he’d been sat there, unmoving, transfixed by Harry’s songs—haunted by the knowledge of what had inspired them. (Nick/Harry, rip gryles)

8 canon fics

(This was a VERY hard category to narrow down, but yeah, a big push this year from "newer" writers = lots of nuanced fic)

Per Aspera, by @sedfierisentio​. Louis’s throat feels tight, his heart like a hammer in his chest. You know my rot, he thinks, and I know yours. I love you still. (these achingly beautiful time stamps are centered around taste, and if this fic has taught me anything, it's that buying an author a coffee has a ripple effect)

A Nullo Amato, by @sedfierisentio​. Inspired by Harry carrying books around outside LAX, a canon-compliant, Canon AU fic set between 2014 and 2015; mostly, timestamps roped together by a common theme—literature. (this was removed four years ago and reposted, so maybe it's a cheat??? i don't care, it was brand-new to me and a lot of other people, I'm so glad the author shared it again!)

no love like your love, by @dykes4louis​. A collection of tumblr drabbles. (Hima is REALLY burying the lede on this one because each of these is short and SCORCHING, her skill, check out her other works, too!)

Dancing in My Dreams, by @kingsofeverything​. Louis doesn't mean to imply that Harry's too old to dance for him, but Harry takes it that way, and sets out to prove him wrong. (this is one that *could* go in the series pile, but I love it as a standalone...feels like canon to me, regardless!)

Sonic Sounds, by @glasscushion​. "Harry takes a deep breath, suitably embarrassed, “I’m just really...” and he can’t say the obvious. He can’t just say "really wet." Or Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help. (I'll never look at those One Direction electric toothbrushes quite the same way again)

Bruised Fruit, by @glasscushion. Louis is obsessed with the way Harry smells in the heat of LA. (hey, you know what, me, too, bitch, you ain't special...the way this fic SMELLS, my god, I"m obsessed)

be my once in a lifetime, by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals. Just like there are only four other people who will ever understand what it’s like growing up in One Direction, there’s only one other person who knows what it’s like to find your soulmate just before you’re thrown into the spotlight and forced to acknowledge that the both of you have too many flaws and vices to make it through fame together. Or: It's all about having sex and being sad. And drunk. (can u believe Nina wrote this before Fine Line???)

in this dress, by cabinbythesea. Louis is so lost in his eyes and his words he feels if a step above heaven exists, it has to be Harry. Loosely inspired by Harry’s dress from the director’s cut of Lights Up. (I sure hope we see even more fic inspired by every bit of this album/every video it produces)

9 fics by Phoenix/ @alienfuckeronmain

(This fandom doesn't deserve her, and I hope everyone's reading her other works because they're all so amazing, she's such an incredibly gifted writer, my fave of faves, my life is so much brighter with her in it...I could rec her all goddamned day, and I do slash will!!! Here are nine she cranked out this year, each one a gem in its own way)

Silver White Winters. In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down, aka, a Sound of Music AU (the shittiness in the comments underlines why we can't have nice things, but jesus CHRIST, this is so pure and good, and she cranked it out in, like, two hours)

I don't do that dance. Harry is easily the worst ballet dancer in her whole Intro to Ballet class. Except maybe Taylor Swift. (I adore how Phoenix writes girl Harry, but the way she writes Taylor? Unparalleled...nails her perfectly!)

magic, madness, heaven, sin, by @kerasines. It’s the flashing lights painting colors on her eyelids, it’s the drumming bass competing with her heartbeat. It’s the manic energy rippling through the crowd in waves, the deafening, frenzied passion filling the stadium that remind Eleanor that she actually used to like going to concerts. (technically, this one is FOR Phoenix, from Kim, but it takes a pairing that Phoenix is making her very own, so I'm counting it, lol)

Snakes and Stones. If you call a girl a snake enough, sometimes she becomes one. Her legs lengthen and fuse, her pupils shrink to slits. She gets colder and colder, until she has to spread herself on the warm cement beside the pool, soaking in heat, sipping gin and tonics to warm her blood so she does not turn to ice and shatter to bits. (god, I'm blanking on this ship name, but El/Taylor is such an inspired pairing, and I hope that P's drabbles make it over to ao3 in full)

Something good (will come from here). Taylor does not answer, because she is too busy licking her lips and pitching forward, as if Eleanor is the sky, or the sea. (you can practically SMELL this fic, El/Taylor drabble)

I Must Confess (I Still Believe). Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl's School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever. (this fic breaks my heart, the entire experience of its production and aftermath will forever be bittersweet, a gorgeous swansong)

Only One at the Finish Line. “I want to be another alpha’s omega,” is what he says, and it comes out like something reckless, something wild. Like he doesn't care anymore if Louis hates him or not, if Louis understands, he just needs to speak his truth aloud to darkness, to the slender pines that surround them like a jury panel. (Phoenix was the gaybo mod, and this was her contribution, and it is PERFECTION PERSONIFIED, fest goals)

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park. The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse. (a very good year in general for Princess Park clapbacks)

Life Saver. Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry? (this one came out a year ago tomorrow, and it had a tough birthing process, but it's so good, so hot, my love for virgin Harry gettin’ it on knows no bounds)

10 AU fics

(yes, yes, this could be LOADS longer, but I’m sticking to my theme!)

breathless for an eternity, by cabinbythesea. Harry conquers double duty on SNL and Louis wishes he was Nick Jonas. (dangggg, this came out too late for me to rec it along with my other snl-related fic, but it joins that lofty canon!)

Pretty Baby, by @littlelouishiccups. Louis helps Harry unwind after a busy week. (I was NOT expecting a new chapter in the iconic sugar baby Harry series, but HERE WE ARE)

into another (another) serotonin overflow, by @mercutionotromeo. Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey. (this is one of my all-time fave fics, and I'm not sure what changed in it to get it reposted, but yeah, HERE FOR IT, THANK YOU!!!)

'Sup, by @mediawhorefics. All Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him. ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis. (this is so short but so tantalizing, GOD, DO I WANT MORE OF THIS UNIVERSE)

Tan Lines and Some Memories, by twoshipstiedup. Harry Styles is the indie movie darling he’d been avoiding ever since Louis saw his movie at Cannes and harbored an unreasonable grudge against him. A unicorn t-shirt finally brings them together in person. (I honestly thought we'd get more unicorn shirt fic, but this is a wonderful standard-bearer, banter city)

Bitter Tangerine, by purpledaisy/ @daisyharry. Nine months after they break up, a twist of fate brings Harry and Louis back together at Christmas. (so much ouch in this, but wow, do you feel like you're reading fully realized, realistic, growing characters)

We're Driving in Your Fast Car, by @sadaveniren. Harry felt himself light up - both with excitement and the thrill of getting what he wanted. “Really?” “Of course, anything for you." aka Louis and Harry are car thieves about to pull off a million dollar job. (another one I'd love to read more of...how did they get here, where are they going, etc.)

remember you well, by @fondleeds. Harry’s a criminal, Louis’ a cop, and they’re stranded overnight at the Motel 6. (what's with me and my love of heist/caper fics this year?)

Tied Down, by HamPalpert/ @ham-palpert. The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. The investigation yields an unexpected yet satisfactory outcome for Liam and Niall. For Harry and Louis, however, things are far more complicated. (SEE ABOVE, JESUS, I THINK ABOUT THIS FIC...ALL...THE.......TIME)

Harry Styles Cooks..., by sunsetmog. Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them. (yeah, it's a wip, yeah, I flatline every time it updates, what of it, I'm living my best life vicariously through it!!)

[something-tofightfor]

2019 writing recap!

I’ve seen a couple of people do this, and it seems like a fun way to go back through what I’ve done this past year in terms of writing + give some recognition to the other talented people in this fandom.  

Answers under the cut because it’s long! (Everything is linked because SCREW YOU TUMBLR)

favorite fic you wrote this year: I have two favorites. 

1. Neon Lights, which started out as a prompt request based on a song, and has spawned 100,000 words via the stories, the HCs and the random character asks… and has given me a much better understanding of Ryan Brenner as a character. 

2. You’re all going to be super surprised at this…. But it’s Here Comes the Sun, because it gave me a chance to write Logan in a VERY different way than I did with Tonight… and seeing him wholly happy is so nice.

least favorite fic you wrote this year: The First of Many, which was my one foray into writing for Frank/Karen… and I killed Billy in it, so that was a disaster. 

favorite line/scene you wrote this year: A few of the ones that stick out to me: 

 Neon Lights, chapter 4:   “Hey, I’m listening to what you’re sayin’, but if it’s alright, I’m gonna kiss you now.” The words were quiet, his voice a little hoarse. Yes, God, yes. You reached up with the arm that he wasn’t holding on to and touched his hair while you nodded, and then his lips met yours. You sighed into the kiss, and unless you were imagining things, he did too. It was brief, but when he pulled away he was smiling. “I’ve wanted to do that since yesterday.”

Take a Sip, part 2: “Caspian?” You met his eyes and he saw that you were trying to hold it together. “Will you help me get this dress off, please?” He moved quickly, pulling you to your feet and unlacing the front of your dress, fingers shaking as he untied the strings. His hands moving to your shoulders, he squeezed them before turning you gently around, undoing the buttons on the back of your dress - so much like he had the first night he’d ever touched you, the dress falling to your waist and then to the floor, revealing a shift beneath it. “Thank you, my King.” 

He heard the tears in your voice and blinked back his own as he lowered his head, pressing his lips to the bare skin of one shoulder and then the other, fingers gathering your hair to lift it and expose more of you to him. But you didn’t let him linger as you turned, giving him a small smile as you reached forward, pushing the jacket off of his shoulders and waiting until he’d shrugged it off before moving to help him remove his vest. Neither of you spoke, but he knew what you were thinking - that it could be the last time you touched each other, the last time…

Remember What You Told Me, part 2: When Logan and Reader confront William in the bar... it was so damn satisfying. 

He’s Not Here (Interlude): History: This was such a fun scenario to write because... why would Billy ever think that someone would need him to take care of them when they’re sick? I loved exploring this side of him, and helping him learn that it was OK to open up. 

total number of words you wrote this year: Based on adding up everything on my Masterlist pages + including the word count of the HNH file… 620,000 words… and that doesn’t include anything that I’ve got a few paragraphs of in WiP files, the HCs or the character asks that I’ve done. 

That’s …. 1557 pages in a typical novel…. So basically, because I love writing, I wrote FIFTEEN HUNDRED PAGES WORTH OF WORDS. Yikes. 

most popular fic this year: People have really seemed to connect with He’s Not Here, and that makes sense, because it’s my longest running series and Billy’s... been given a chance to be different, which is always nice to write and read about. 

Exit Row was also super popular. 

But the most popular single post of 2019 for me? Billy Russo’s NSFW alphabet. 

least popular fic this year: Tonight, which disappoints me, because I love it. I get that it’s a little dark, but... it was necessary, because Logan’s not perfect. 

And Neon Lights/Just a Place… which is super disappointing, because it’s Ryan and everyone should love him. 

longest completed fic you wrote this year: Neon Lights ended up being 60,000 words. 

shortest completed fic you wrote this year: All of the drabbles that I wrote in March are super short (I think they averaged about 700 words) … but I think that “On the Spot” is the shortest thing I’ve ever written at 500 words EXACTLY. 

longest wip of the year: He’s Not Here… which is currently (after 20 chapters) at 82,000+ words - for the main story. 

shortest wip of the year: Hmm… I’m thinking that this is PROBABLY the second part of Ink, which has been sitting in my WiP folder since September, and is only about 200 words long right now. 

favorite character to write about this year: This is a very unfair question, because I love all of my characters and stories, but...I honestly, (and this will come as no surprise) loved writing Logan the most in all forms. There’s so much that can be done with his character, and exploring it has been a LOT of fun for me. 

favorite writing song/artist/album of this year: I wrote  LOT while listening to the “Feeding the Wolves” album by 10 Years (it’s GREAT for Billy). I also think that I wrote almost all of Neon Lights while listening almost exclusively to acoustic guitar covers of songs that had NOTHING to do with the story.  

a fic you didn’t expect to write: I never thought I’d write Caspian, and here we are, 6 chapters later + a follow up with His Favorite Place.

fic(s) you completed this year:  I don’t even know, it’s got to be close to 40, maybe more with all of the prompt requests and all that. It doesn’t seem like that many, but I just scrolled through my masterlist, so I guess it must be. 

fics you’ll continue next year: Just a Place. He’s Not Here. Here Comes the Suniverse. Ben/Reader Exit Row universe… so many.  

current number of wips: Too many. At least 15. It’s insane. 

any new fics to start next year: There’s one for sure that I want  to write ASAP because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for like a solid week and a half. 

most memorable comment/review: I love each and every single one of you that takes the time to comment - or even to message me and keysmash - but I think that the handwritten comments from @its-my-little-dumpster-fire and @the-blind-assassin-12 are some of my favorites (and I’m sure those of you that have also received them will agree) .... it’s just overwhelming to me. And so is hearing that I overwhelmed you, or made you smile, or that you felt like you were IN the story. I am shit at replying to every single comment, but I try my best, and I can’t thank you enough for all of your kind words and encouragement. 

events you participated in this year: I participated in zero events aside from the ones that I set up for myself when I asked people for requests. 

fics you wanted to write but didn’t: There’s  Logan story that I’ve been sitting on since last December (I remember wrapping presents and contemplating it) … there’s a Logan one shot that I want to write and don’t want to write at the same time. I have a Caspian story that is ITCHING to be written, and might be one of the first things I write in 2020. 

favorite fic you read this year: 

Death of a Bachelor by @delos-mio: Logan Delos X Reader ... and it’s a RIDE.I vividly remember pulling my phone out in between bands at a concert to read the most recent chapter and I can’t wait for her to finish it 

With Courage by @halfwit-halfblood : Caspian x OC, and it features one of the strongest and most relatable OCs that I have ever read in my life. I am absolutely sucked in every new chapter. 

By Design by @luminex3: Billy Russo x Reader... and it’s literally everything that I could ever ask for in a non-canon Billy, because he’s still Billy, but he’s much less of an idiot than the REAL Billy. And her details? The dedication to her characters? It was BEAUTIFUL. 

... there were so many others, if you want more suggestions, please feel free to ask, because I have so many favorites. 

a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read:

‘Deed I Do by @its-my-little-dumpster-fire: John Whittaker x Reader .... and it’s PERFECT. And it’s spawned so many fun companion pieces. (PARTICULARLY ‘My Private Affair’... which literally KILLED ME. 

Oblivion by @the-blind-assassin-12: Logan Delos x Reader... and it’s a lot to handle, but it shows just how strong Logan could truly be if he was given the chance/motivation

A Familiar Face by @illshowyourhurricanes/ @suchatinyinfinity: Ryan Brenner x Reader... and it shows why the simple moments are the most important. Her Ryan is so thoughtful, and I just love him. 

 number of favorites/bookmarks you made this year: I liked a LOT of stories on Tumblr. A ton, in fact. A literal fuckton. I read a lot this year. 

favorite fanfic author of the year: It’s really unfair to make me choose a favorite, so I’ll list some that I truly enjoy in no particular order: 

@halfwit-halfblood

@delos-mio

@the-blind-assassin-12

@its-my-little-dumpster-fire

@madamrogersstorytelling

@logans-chestnuts

[concussed-to-pieces]

Bookish; Part Two

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Word Count: ...I am so sorry. Over 20k.

AN: THIRSTY/HOLIDAY CREW HOOOO! Welcome aboard a most festive holiday spectacular, my entry into the 25 Days Of Chrismuts! This is even more like a cheesy romance novel than the previous installment of Bookish! We've got plot-convenient amnesia, we've got protective security, we've got secrets, violence and daring rescues...everything you and I need to have a great holiday season! Tagging @25daysofchrismuts, @oraclegazes @hardcorewwetrash annnnnnnd @toxiicpop! Enjoy!

Part One

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains minor gunplay (non-loaded gun), firearms in general, graphic descriptions of violence, warped recollections (amnesia) and mentions of emotional neglect. Stay safe!]

“Is that a sniper rifle?!” You yelled in bewilderment, Dean's hand on your shoulder forcing you back down into your seat.

Seth shrugged from his spot beside you, the definitely-a-sniper-rifle cradled in the crook of his elbow. “Maybe.” He allowed, plastering on a grin so hackneyed it made you wince. “Maybe it’s a toy.”

“Maybe you ought to quit talking and start aiming!” Roman shouted from the driver’s seat. “Move it, Rollins!”

How had you ended up in this mess?!

...

The snowfall always looked better from your window. You sighed, sipping on your cup of tea and tugging the tail of your bookmark loose. You had many fond memories of sitting in the little nook your window created, watching the snow come down thick. When you were younger and your parents would call, you often described it to them in excruciating detail.

Fond memories. Lonely fond memories.

“Whatcha' reading now, gorgeous?” The familiar wiry frame of Dean Ambrose settled in beside you, and you giggled while he made himself comfortable. “You crammin' for a midterm or somethin'?”

“No, I just figured I'd catch up on this, uh-” You tried to keep the book out of his hands, but he was too fast. He easily pilfered the volume, squinting at the cover before his eyes widened.

“Oh ho, this your leisure readin' material?” Dean crowed, laughing raucously and vaulting off the window seat with your book in hand.

“Hey wait, give that back!” You grabbed onto the leg of his jeans, bringing him to the ground and scrambling over his body to yank the book away from him. You then moved on reflex to incapacitate him, trapping his neck between your thighs and slamming his head against the floor with your body weight and momentum.

Dean grinned infuriatingly up at you from between your legs, sticking his tongue out in a purposely lewd gesture. “Gettin' pretty good at that, gorgeous! Keep it up and you might have a real shot.”

“You're such a jerk!” You growled. “From where I'm sitting, you're the one who's in trouble.”

“Mm, you'd think that, wouldn't ya'. But the thing is--” Dean's hands slammed shut on your thighs and he pressed your knees even tighter to his shoulders, effectively immobilizing you. “-You're wide open like this, gorgeous.” He smirked, spreading your legs and grabbing your rear to pull you in closer.

You squealed, smacking him with your book and trying to wedge the volume between his face and your groin. “That's cheating Dean!”

“You're the one that put your crotch in my face!” Dean laughed, “What can I say, I'm a hungry guy and you're always delicious.” He slid a hand over the curve of your thigh, making your insides go molten when he moaned in his throat. “You smell so good, gorgeous. Taste even fuckin' better.” He muttered, licking his lips.

“Hey Ambrose, Roman got Ch-” Seth ground to a halt as he pushed open the door and saw the two of you on the floor. “Whoa, my bad! Sorry, I didn't know you guys were, uh, y'know--” He sputtered, obviously flustered.

“We're not!” You huffed.

“We’re not? Shit, and here I thought we were! Ah well, up I get.” Ambrose shifted your knees over his shoulders and actually stood while holding you, your head bumping the ceiling briefly. You quickly bent down, wrapping your arms around the back of his head.

“Dean!”

“Oh, heya’ gorgeous.” Dean mumbled into your stomach, pressing kisses to your shirt while you clung to his face and dug your heels into his shoulder blades. “Weird way of ridin’ piggyback.”

“Put me down Ambrose!” A pair of hands landed on your hips and eased you back down Ambrose’s body.

“Dean, you’re such a tease.” Seth grunted. “Don’t be mean.”

“I ain’t bein’ mean! I wanted to see what they could do. All that training really paid off. They move like a goddamn missile.” Ambrose praised, making you blush.

“Well, they did learn from the best.” Seth preened.

“Don’t even try to take all the credit!” You nudged him with your elbow. “I worked hard for this.”

“You're absolutely right. We're proud of you, gorgeous.” Seth gave you a smile and a kiss on the cheek, “We might even have to recommend you to our boss if you keep improving so fast!”

“Very funny. I doubt I'm on a recommendation level for a fast food joint, never mind whatever private security group you guys work for.” You laughed off his comment, noticing that Ambrose looked weirdly uncomfortable. But then he swiped your book again and you quickly forgot about it, trying to reclaim your property as Seth and Dean played keep-away. Things really got out of hand when Dean started reading aloud passages from the book.

Roman walked in on you shrieking stop reading it and give it back already!, the larger man laughing uproariously and plucking the steamy novel from Ambrose's grasp. “You know you don't need to read this crap when we're around, gorgeous. After all, we're available for uh...wish fulfillment, should the need arise.” His smirk was insufferably smug as he rifled through the pages of the book.

“It's not that, Roman. I'm studying the kissing parts.” You muttered, folding your arms over your chest. “I'm still so new to this, I need...I figured I should study up so you guys don't get tired of me, is all.” You dug your toes into the plush carpet, studiously avoiding eye contact with the three men. “I know I'm not very good at...well, y'know.”

Dean's finger slid beneath your chin and he tilted your face up, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “You don't ever need t’ worry about that, gorgeous.” He murmured hoarsely. “We’re here to protect you, an’ we plan to do so for as long as we can. You're one of the group, whether you like it or not.” He stroked your lower lip in a meditative gesture, back and forth, and you found the motion oddly soothing. “You been worryin’ too much.”

“My modus operandi: I read, I worry.”

“And you kiss.” Dean breathed. “A few other things besides.”

“S-Sometimes.” You hated that the four of you had engaged with one another on multiple occasions and yet you still had issues with the simplest of things. It wasn't fair! When would it become easy? When would you get to fluster them with some carefully-chosen words or a casual touch?

“Don’t worry. This isn't a race, gorgeous.” Seth assured you kindly.

“It can’t be a race because no one else is in it.” You grumbled. “It’s easy for you guys, this stuff comes natural to you.”

“You don't know how wrong you are.” Roman said quietly. He looked thoughtful for a minute, then seemed to shake himself out of it. “Hey, c'mon. Enough of this bullshit. I got Chinese food for dinner, and we can watch some of those garbage Christmas movies.”

“I happen to like those garbage Christmas movies, so you'd better watch your mouth!”

...

“C’mon gorgeous, we have to go.” Roman whispered in your ear, his facial hair tickling your sensitive skin. “It’s time to go.”

“Go? Bu’ where?” You slurred, firmly entrenched in the grip of sleep. You barely remembered being carried up to bed after a marathon of sappy movies. Roman sighed heavily and then wrapped the blanket around your body, lifting you after a moment.

“We gotta’ move, Reigns.” You dimly heard Ambrose grunt. Roman hushed him while you snuggled into his chest.

Without warning the intruder alarm started blaring, startling you wide awake. You felt Roman flinch and Dean swore.

Seth was suddenly at Reigns’ elbow, where had he even come from? “Twenty seconds. Attic breach.” He whispered, leaning his weight on the door to your room and carefully opening it. “Two at a time the stairs. Remember how many there are.”

Roman nodded. “Ambrose, take offensive point. Rollins, you’re on flank.”

“Nothing is getting past me.” Seth muttered.

“Guys, what’s happening?” You whispered.

None of them answered your question and you fell silent, clinging tightly to your blanket. There was a crash upstairs, like someone had knocked something over in the cluttered attic. Dean bolted out the door, heading in the direction of the attic stairs.

Rollins all but hung off of Roman’s arm. “We waiting or leaving?” He asked.

“We’ll wait in the SUV.” Roman’s voice sounded oddly strained. “I’m not leaving Ambrose behind.”

“He should have stayed in for-”

“I said, I’m not leaving him behind. He's on offensive point.” Roman snarled. Seth fell silent. “We’re not leaving him behind while I’m here, Rollins. We’re moving out. Run flank like you’re supposed to and there shouldn’t be any problems.”

You got the feeling that there was some previous situation being brought up, maybe during the rough stint that Rollins had mentioned.

“It’s been a long road to get to the relatively-cushy setups. We’ve always stuck together though, even when shit got hard or dangerous. There’s been a lot of times things fell through.”

Roman held you a little tighter when he left the room, his body tense. Just as he reached the stairs, a door slammed loudly. That seemed to seal it for the large man. He lunged down the stairs, three at a time with Rollins doing an odd sidestep hot on his heels. You buried your face in his chest, terrified beyond belief. If this was something that had them spooked…

Into the kitchen, out the side door to the garage, Roman bypassed your rarely used sports car and instead headed for the navy blue SUV that Ambrose had dubbed ‘The Grand Bandwagon’. “In, in, buckle up.” He panted, sliding you across the backseat. You quickly did as he asked, watching Rollins deadbolt the kitchen door and then scramble to the SUV.

“Drive around to the rendezvous point, it’s a straight shot out the window for him and he knows his evac routes.” He hissed to Roman, who nodded. You tucked your knees up to your chest, shivering with fear (and cold, December was not known for its balmy weather).

The garage door eased up, one of the tracks squeaking loudly. Roman climbed into the driver’s seat and Seth slid onto the bench seat beside you. “We’ve trained for this. It’s going to be fine.” He assured you. “Just remember what we taught you and we'll take care of the rest.”

Roman didn’t turn the engine on, instead taking off the parking brake and letting the car roll out of the garage in neutral. “Here’s hoping that gate at the bottom of the hill isn’t too stiff from the cold.” He muttered.

“More like ‘here’s hoping Ambrose makes it’.” Seth replied, sounding sulky.

“Here’s hoping I don’t punch you in the mouth.” Roman growled.

“Hey guys? Not exactly instilling a lot of confidence with your bickering.” You finally piped up.

“Sorry.” Seth apologized after a moment. “I’m…I always feel so guilty when it comes to-”

“I know. I’m sorry for snapping at you. Still defensive, I guess.” Roman replied ruefully. “Old habits.” The SUV silently inched through the gate, past a group of small, dark-colored vehicles. “Your parents gave us a few weeks off, y’know.” Roman continued to you. “Told us almost a month back: ‘You boys go enjoy yourselves, it’ll be nearly Christmas and we always take our child on vacation’. The email's exact words.” He was watching you in the rearview mirror, like he was waiting to see your reaction.

You shook your head, utterly confused. “They don’t bring me anywhere. Especially not after what happened at the gala.”

“We noticed.” Seth said grimly. “These guys must think we’re as dumb as we look.” You weren’t sure what on earth he meant by that.

The SUV had reached the road at this point, and Roman cautiously turned the key further to start the car. The engine roared to life. You remembered Dean’s proud announcement of, “came straight from the line with over 700 horses, I tuned it up even tighter for extra asswhuppin’.”

Reigns grimaced. “It’s louder than before, Christ.”

“Ambrose knows his stuff.” Rollins said by way of agreement, his fingers tapping away at the seat cushions beside your hand. “May not know how to keep that stuff quiet, but he knows it.” Over the idling engine you heard several loud popping noises. Roman gritted out a curse. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” Seth took your hand, squeezing it a little too tightly. The darkness outside the vehicle was broken by the faint lights from your house up on the hill. You could only just see several forms moving around in the many windows.

“What’s happening, Seth?” You asked softly. More popping met your ears, closer this time.

“He’s coming, it’ll be okay.” Seth said, not meeting your eyes and instead shooting a worried look at Roman as the larger man unbuckled his seat belt. “Roman, don’t-”

“If he’s hurt…Seth, we can’t leave him. I’m not leaving him.” Roman said, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his stoic act.

“He’s not dumb enough to get hurt, man. Put your seat belt back on. He’s gonna’ make it. Nobody knows the plan better than--”

The front passenger door was suddenly ripped open from the outside, making everyone jump. Seth had his arm in front of you and Roman had his handgun drawn before your brain could really register the motions. “Now now big fella’, you wouldn’t blow a hole in my skull, wouldja’?” rasped a familiar voice.

Roman holstered his gun and all but dragged Ambrose into the SUV, burying his face in the other man’s hair for a moment. “Don’t do that to me again.” Reigns choked out, shoving Dean back to his seat and quickly wiping his eyes.

“Hey, we stuck to the plan. Everything’s okay. Well, mostly.” Dean’s laugh was more of a cough. “I always forget how many is too many.” Something struck the passenger side window with a loud ‘pang!’. “Roman, uh, let’s get the fuck outta’ here. Open up the Bandwagon. Wanna’ see how it does with an expert at the wheel.” Dean coughed again, and you then realized he had a death grip on his side. “Also, might have gotten grazed. Nothin’ to worry about right now, but maybe later one of you g-”

“Grazed? As in, shot?!” Was that what those popping sounds were?! It was a far cry from what the movies made them out to be! “Dean, Jesus Christ!” You blurted.

“Here’s a tip that’ll do you good in life, gorgeous. Don’t--ah, ow--don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Unless you like a challenge.” Dean groaned as he lolled his head back against the headrest. Seth reached over him hurriedly and clicked his seatbelt into the buckle. Dean huffed out a breath. “Such a mother hen.”

The vehicle’s headlights snapped on, brilliant angel eye LEDs illuminating the road and throwing everything into contrast. Dean hummed, seeming pleased. “Everyone buckled?” Roman asked calmly. There was another sharp ‘pang!’, on the window by Seth this time. You flinched at the noise, clinging tighter to Seth's hand.

“You bet your ass. Drag that shit, give it all you’ve got.”

When Roman shifted the SUV and gave it some gas, you felt like your heart was trying to leap out of your throat. Seth laughed incredulously from his spot beside you as the vehicle tore off like a bat out of hell. “Hell yeah, go Grandwagon!”

“Jesus Christ Ambrose, what did you feed this thing?!” Roman sputtered, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“Nothin’ I didn’t think you could handle.” Dean grinned. “You’re scratchin’ the surface, big fella’. When we get to the highway, open it up.”

You grabbed Seth’s arm and clung tight in anticipation. Rollins didn’t seem to be able to stop his giddy laughter, resting his cheek on your head and reaching over Dean’s seat to pat his shoulder appreciatively. “You’re the best Dean!”

Roman expertly guided the eager Trackhawk along the narrow, winding roads leading away from your house, smoothly shifting gears to put distance between the vehicle and the residence.

“So is anyone going to tell me what's going on?” You asked after several minutes of relative silence had gone by.

Dean craned his neck so he could make eye contact with you in the backseat. “Gorgeous, you remember the guy tailing you and your mom when you went to get that princess dress?”

You would be hard-pressed to forget being that scared. You nodded and Ambrose squinted, shifting a little.

“We, that is, Roman an’ I, went after the guy. Sent Rollins t’ cover you. That scumbag should have known better than to try and sneak out the back. That whole store was basically designed like a kill zone for fuck’s sake, ain’t hard to figure out that it’s a shady joint.” He made a noise of disgust. “Follow the money an’ sure as shit you'll find it's soaked in blood.”

“We briefly interrogated the man and of course, he spilled the whole plan pretty quickly. We didn’t take too kindly to being kept in the dark. One of us could have gotten hurt in the attempt, after all,” Roman carried on where Dean left off, “Your dad dismissing us for the whole gala was something we didn't see coming. We now knew there were people out to get you, but that stunt in the bridal shop seemed a little desperate. Meant they were willing to take you in public. So, Rollins infiltrated the party to escort you elsewhere.”

Willing to take you in public. Your whole body broke out in a cold sweat.

“Your parents hadn’t had any contact with us since the gala. But earlier this month someone claiming to be your dad sent us an email with fucking paragraphs of praise and a request that the three of us enjoy some time off since they’d be picking you up for the ‘annual Christmas vacation’.” Seth rolled his eyes. “Whoever is out for you hasn't exactly done their research. Might be the reason why we made it as far as we did, these people just assuming that we were doing our jobs as your security. At this point, though, I think they’re on to us.”

“I don't understa-”

Headlights blazed to life behind the SUV. A flurry of ‘pang!’s met your ears and Roman shouted, “Rollins!”

Which led to the current mess, Seth unbuckled, a sniper rifle in his hands and the rear window of the Jeep cracked open so he could take a few pot shots at your pursuers. One of the cars drew up alongside and you covered your ears as shots rattled against the glass beside your head.

Seth dropped his gun and grabbed hold of one of your legs, attempting to pull you underneath his body across the bench seat. Your seat belt held, unfortunately, and the back of your head slammed against the hard paneling on the door when your torso slid under the lap belt.

Everything went black.

“--on the highway, Reigns!”

“-happened to the-”

“-gorgeous, please, please!”

“--bump, they’ll be okay-”

Loud, panicked voices faded in and out; you were vaguely aware of the car moving beneath you and something pressing down on you. Your head hurt, and you gladly surrendered to the pull of unconsciousness. If this was what an action scene was really like, you’d had more than enough excitement...

…

When you woke up, you kept your eyes closed. Brow furrowed, you tried to discern why you felt like something was wrong.

It struck you after a moment that the noise of the highway close to your house was strangely absent. Your eyes flew open and you sat bolt upright, cringing in pain and running your fingers over the back of your head until you found the lumpy source of your discomfort. That mystery solved, you slowly took in the room around you in confusion.

The walls and ceiling were bare, unfinished wood, a stark contrast to your bedroom at home. The bed itself was piled high with a mishmash of quilts, and beneath that directly against your body was a pelt of some kind. Or maybe a group of smaller pelts, all sewn together? It was a cream color, soft and warm. A hysterical laugh bubbled in your throat as Gaston’s antler-heavy decor in Beauty And The Beast came to mind. The room definitely had that rustic feel to it.

The door of the room was slightly ajar, and you could hear quiet voices in the next room over. Nervously, you slid out from beneath the blankets, wrapping one of the quilts around your shoulders as an afterthought when the chill of the room hit you. You tiptoed to the door, overly cautious. After all, you couldn’t exactly remember how you had gotten here! It couldn’t hurt to be careful.

The door eased open a little more at your touch. Firelight played over the wall that you could see, bathing the wood in dancing shadows. You tried to open the door the rest of the way, but the hinges creaked loudly. You froze.

There was a rustling and the thud of rapidly approaching footfalls, then the door handle was wrenched out of your hand. You screamed, pressing your back to the wall next to the door as your fists raised instinctively. You were currently cornered by a stranger with a well-kept beard and strangely bleached streak in his hair. Said stranger shifted his weight nervously at your exclamation, his brow furrowed.

There were two other men in the room, you realized quickly. Your eyes were drawn without your conscious involvement to the coagulated puddle of blood at the light-haired man's side and you felt sick to your stomach as the large man with the tattoo covering his entire arm got to his feet. All three of them were so much bigger than you. Bruce Lee's Art Of Fighting might have made for excellent reading, but you were relatively certain that the absence of years of skilled training on your end rendered the knowledge down to historic clumps of text and black and white images.

“Gorgeous?” The light-haired man asked slowly, like he was addressing you. His face was overgrown with stubble and deep shadows marred the area beneath his piercing blue eyes. He looked exhausted and wary.

“I remember you.” You said shakily, jabbing a brave finger in the direction of the blond-streaked individual. An expression of guilt flitted across his face, strengthening your meager resolve. “You were hanging from the rafters and...and then you rushed me from the counter! And then I backed into you and...oh God, am I kidnapped? You knocked me out and kidnapped me! Where are my clothes?!” Your voice rose to a fever pitch, “I'll give you anything you want, I swear! M-My parents...they'll pay whatever amount you set, just please don't hurt me anymore!” You begged, cowering away from the man as best as you could.

“'Anymore'?” The man with the streak in his hair repeated, sounding confused.

“The back of my head is throbbing, I've got a lump and everything!”

“Let me see.” He demanded, reaching out again.

“Stay away from me! Don't touch me!” You cried, thankful beyond words when he immediately halted. “I just want to go home, p-please!”

The light-haired man exhaled hard, those eyes trained on the back of the man in front of you. “Give 'em some space, Seth.” He said finally. The tattooed man rolled his shoulders menacingly, but remained silent.

Seth (if that's really his name your brain piped up) however, began to protest. “Ambrose, I-”

“No. They're freakin’ out. Back off.” Ambrose (?) ordered. The man with the light streak (Seth?) obeyed without further question. “Look, uh, I promise, as weird as this all seems, we didn't...kidnap you.” Ambrose continued carefully, like he was maneuvering around telling you the whole truth. “Not really. More like...rescued?” He clearly noticed your look of disbelief, because he swore under his breath. You flinched at the curse, not used to such rough language. “You obviously remember your parents. D'you remember anything...specific about them?”

“They're away on a trip. They always are.” You replied curtly (hopefully not too curtly, these men were huge in their own right and you were deathly afraid of upsetting them). “What did you do to my security team?” A terrible thought struck you as you once again looked at the bloodied bandages on Ambrose's side. “Did you...you didn't...did you kill them?” You breathed, horrified.

“No, hell no! Listen to me, we did not kidnap you!” He exclaimed. “We're not kidnappers or murderers or whatever the fuck!” His irritated tone of voice did little to dissuade your concerns and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You tried to wipe them away, but more rushed in to take their place and began rolling down your cheeks. “There was a break-in, shit, over a year ago at this point, remember? Y'know, the reason why you had a security team in the first place?”

“S-Someone was...” A hazy image surfaced in your mind. The man with the streak in his hair (Seth?) slipping through your bedroom window, grinning like a fiend. “It was you, you broke in!” You accused, your finger yet again pointed in Seth’s direction. “You came in through my window!”

“I did sometimes.” Seth allowed. “You thought it was funny because I would go out through one window on the other side of the house, sprint across the roof and then swing in through yours. You don't...you don't remember that part?” He asked hesitantly. “We're uh...we're your current security team. Have been for almost a year now.”

You were shaking your head before he was even done speaking. “My parents only hired professionals.”

“Your parents.” The large man with the tattoo spoke up, his words a furious hiss. You shrank back at the harshness of his voice, wondering what your parents had done to earn his ire.

“Easy Roman.” Ambrose murmured, one hand on the other man's arm. Thick black hair surrounded Roman's face like a tangled halo, extending past his shoulders to curl at his collarbone. His frown was framed by a goatee the same color as his hair. The tattoo was menacing enough, but the way his brown eyes narrowed had you thoroughly on edge. He scared you the most if you were being brutally honest, his stony demeanor and imposing form utterly terrifying.

“Please.” You begged pitifully, hating how the three of them continued to study you. “I just want to go home.”

“You wouldn’t be sayin’ that if you knew what was waiting for y’ there.” Ambrose said sharply, getting a better grip on Roman’s arm and pulling himself upright. “We’re the only friends you’ve got in this whole fuckin’ world right now, gorgeous. We promised to-” He paused, grimacing.

“You need to lay back down.” Roman muttered.

“-Promised to keep you safe, no matter what.” Ambrose continued, his fingers digging into Roman’s shoulder hard enough to make the tan skin pale. “There was a breach. A security breach. Someone had been feelin’ out our perimeter and they finally acted on it last night. Rollins saw them first, he tipped us off.”

“Dean bought us the time we needed to get you to the Trackhawk.” Seth’s voice was low, grave. “We were pursued. You hit your head when I grabbed you. It was...it was my fault.”

“I want to talk to my parents.”

“Listen, if we break radio silence now there's a relatively good chance whoever is trying to get you will absolutely find you.” Seth stressed the words tersely. “We were supposed to have the holidays off. Like the gala. Do you remember the gala?”

--Someone dragged you into the shadows of an alcove, you swung with all your might--

“You grabbed me and I hit you!” You retorted.

“I apologized for scaring you! And we went bowling afterwards!” Seth squawked. “I’m not some perv, you were crying and-”

“Because that makes it better, right? Grabbing someone when they’re already freaking out?” Where was this courage coming from?

“-and I just wanted to make you feel safe!” Seth finished loudly, clearly frustrated. You glared at him for raising his voice, folding your arms across your chest. For whatever reason, you at least felt like you had a fighting chance when it came to him. Ambrose was obviously the voice of sanity, and Roman was scary. But Seth was different.

“Christ. Go easy on a guy, will you?”

You recalled the moment as clear as day, the way he had nonchalantly rubbed at his throat where you had landed your strike. Your blow was nothing but a nuisance to him. How long had you been stuck with these three? What else had happened? “I want to talk to my parents.” You demanded again.

Ambrose sat down heavily on the ottoman by the fire, dropping his head into his hands. “Dean?” Seth asked, a note of fear shining through his tone. Ambrose waved off his concern with a low grunt. Seth ignored him, moving to his side and crouching so he could see the other man’s face. “Dean…”

“Room’s spinnin’. Mighta’ lost more blood than I thought.” Dean admitted through his fingers.

“I knew it. Ambrose you need a hospital.” Roman’s words were dismissed with the violent shake of a tawny head.

“I’ve made it through worse shit than this.” Dean growled.

“That’s not the point, idiot, we weren’t supposed to have to go through the worse shit anymore!” Seth snapped. “This gig was supposed to do it.”

“Oh, because this is the first time a plan has collapsed on top of us, right?” Roman shot back bitterly. “We knew this job was messed up from the start.”

“I ain’t saying that and you know it! Shit Ro, I never wanted Ambrose to get hurt.” Seth’s voice softened oddly. “Didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I hoped we would figure out a way around this.”

“Fact of the matter is that you can’t talk to your parents.” Dean addressed you around their conversation. “If these people are find out where we are, there’s a damn good chance you’ll wind up bagged. I’m not tryin’ to scare you. I’m just bein’ honest. All you are right now is a paycheck. They been tryin’ t’ get ahold of you for ages. It was all part of the plan”

Your legs gave out and you slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a quiet thud. “I…please.” You said stupidly. Your head was pounding, the room wavering uncertainly before your eyes.

“Rollins, get them back into bed. They gotta’ rest.”

“You do not touch them! Only we can touch them!”

“Gorgeous, you with us? Sorry we’re late.”

“Just us. Only us. Only us.”

Fragments of conversations you didn’t remember having looped in your brain, tangling and twisting into a ball and drowning out the voices in the room.

“Easy, easy, it’s okay. We’re getting you out of here.”

“Trust me, no matter how you feel, you look even dumber.”

“It’s us, man. They got him.”

With more care than you would have expected from a kidnapper, Seth eased you upright and tucked the quilt back around your shoulders. Your body all but fell into his own and he steadied you with a hand on the small of your back. “Don’t touch me.” You whispered, no real bite behind your words.

Seth’s hand rose to your arm instead, his grip tightening. “Just to get you back into bed.” He bargained. “Please.”

You wanted to cry. “No. I can get there myself.”

The wounded expression on his face was only there for a split second, then it smoothed back into a neutral mask. “Alright.” He slowly, agonizingly slowly, let you go, brown eyes chilled with something unreadable while he watched you like a hawk.

You fumbled back into the bedroom, not daring to hold his gaze for any length of time. What the hell was wrong with you? Did you actually believe them? You had been kidnapped! Given a rap over the head and all but Shanghaied! Was this that Stockholm syndrome you had read so much about? Because if it was, it was more dangerous than you could have imagined.

You laid down on the bed, clutching the quilts with shaky hands. The way that Seth had looked at you stirred something in the pit of your stomach. You were certain that if you had maintained eye contact, you would have…well, it didn’t bear thinking about. You shivered, gripping the blankets even tighter.

His eyes had shone in the light from the fire, wary and guilty, but the longing in them had taken your breath away. Clearly, whoever this man was, this burglar-turned-kidnapper, his emotions ran deep. His touch, for whatever reason, sent shockwaves through your body. Was it just because he was attractive? You immediately scolded yourself for your lapse in judgement, of course it was because he was attractive! Nobody ever gave you the time of day, so naturally you would read too much into someone just looking at you. You huffed out a frustrated breath.

Their names are Dean, Seth, and Roman...

…

At some point you must have drifted off because the next thing you knew, cold white light was streaming into the room in earnest. You groaned, caught between disappointment and relief that this wasn’t some wild dream.

“Awake again. How’s your head, gorgeous?”

You were pretty sure the scary guy was going to take years off of your life. Roman, you reminded yourself while you tried to manage your heart rate. “Do you have to watch me while I sleep?” You finally squeaked out.

Roman shrugged from his spot in the rough-hewn chair beside the bed. He looked exhausted. “Until a couple seconds ago, I was asleep too. You moved. I’m a light sleeper.”

“Oh! You were probably up with uh…Am...Ambrose, right?” You deduced, rolling onto your stomach so you could really study Roman. He didn’t look nearly so scary in the daylight, but he was still a clear and obvious threat. It couldn’t hurt to butter him up a little.

Roman nodded, scrubbing at his face in an effort to rouse himself. “Yeah. I think he’s stable now. Hard to tell with him. You remember that, huh? Anything else?” He asked, sounding weirdly hopeful.

You scrunched up your nose, actually trying to think back. “No.” You admitted. “All I’ve got is bits and pieces.”

Roman put his head in his hands and was silent for a few minutes. “It’s okay.” He whispered, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna’ remember at some point and we’ll be there.”

Your brow furrowed. These guys were either fantastic actors or you had actually meant something to them. You’re their meal ticket, stupid! Stop making it easy for them to get into your head!

“Ro?” There was a timid knock on the door. “Hey I made breakfast, are they…” Rollins trailed off upon seeing you awake. “Oh! Morning. How do you feel?” He asked cheerily. Obviously he had slept better than Reigns. Reigns? Roman.

“I wish you guys would knock it off with this buddy-buddy act. It’s creepy.” You muttered, sitting up and folding your arms firmly when Rollins sat on the edge of the bed.

“We can’t help it, gorgeous. This is how we’re used to being around you.” Seth reached for you, then hurriedly pulled back like he remembered what he was doing. “I’m…I’m sorry.” He apologized jerkily.

Against your better judgement, you felt yourself soften a little. “You said something about breakfast?” You prompted him.

“Oh! Yeah, I made breakfast. Uh, Ro, food? Yeah?”

“Has Dean eaten?” Roman queried, standing up from his chair and stretching with a long, drawn-out groan.

“Made sure he ate first. I think he’s gonna’ make it.” Seth grinned. “If the amount of food he put away was any indicator, I’d say he’ll be up and about before you know it. He went right back to sleep once he was done.”

“Thank God.” Roman breathed, his shoulders slumping. “Food sounds great. You wanna’ watch them while I eat, or you wanna’ just bring everything-” Seth sprang off the bed and pushed the door open the rest of the way, picking up two plates. “-in here.” Roman finished, accepting a plate from the eager young man. “Breakfast is served, gorgeous.”

“Fuck you guys, leaving me all alone in the living room like I’m some kinda’ nuisance!” Seth winced at the volume of Dean’s voice, hurriedly passing you the other plate and then scurrying back into the living room.

“You want half of mine? I can’t eat this much.” You offered Roman quickly.

Roman glanced up, then sidelong at your overloaded plate. “If you’re sure you don’t want it, yeah. Can’t waste food.”

You scraped a hearty assortment of the eggs and bacon off your dish and onto his own, ignoring his murmured thanks. This was a strategic choice, to make sure your food hadn’t been poisoned or otherwise altered in a detrimental manner. You watched Roman narrowly while he tucked into the larger portion, observing his lack of hesitance or wariness as he ate.

Once he was nearly done, you took a tiny bite of your toast. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were beforehand and keeping track of Roman faded to the background of your mind as you devoured your breakfast.

“He’s a great cook for being such a crossfit weirdo.” Roman gestured towards the door with his fork, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I heard that!” Seth protested, returning to the bedroom with a bleary-eyed Dean hanging off of his shoulder. The light-haired man did look mildly improved; he had gotten some color back in his face.

“Heya’ gorgeous, miss me?” He asked cheekily, making a loud smooching noise with his mouth. Against your better judgement, you let a tiny giggle escape. “See Rollins? They’re still in there. Nobody can resist my charm for long, even if they don’t remember nothin’ else.” Dean grinned, giving Seth a weak punch in the shoulder.

“I will drop you, Ambrose.”

You quickly determined that you weren’t going to be left alone. For someone like you, this was a horrifying revelation. You valued your peace and quiet and these three were anything but. Thank God you found a few of your favorite books deep in the backpack Seth had said was yours.

The snowstorm appeared to have slowed to a light but steady flurry. Roman and Seth took turns shoveling out the vehicle you had glimpsed from the window, Seth waving off your offer of help. “I don’t want to risk losing y--er, losing anything in this rough weather.” He explained as he hung his jacket up by the fire to dry.

“That’s not fair to you guys though!” You protested, hiding your disappointment at the fact that he could see through your ploy so easily. So many half-hearted plans were fighting for space in your brain, you hadn’t really given much thought to what you might do if you did get outside. It was cold, and you hadn’t exactly brought your glacier-scaling gear. Plus, you had no idea where you were!

“If you’re hell-bent on killin’ yourself that’s fine. Go on ahead. But you’re not takin’ either of my boys with you.” Dean growled. “Gorgeous, I know you’re scared. I wouldn’t be so hot if I was in your shoes with my memories missin’. Please. Don’t do anythin’ stupid when you’re like this. I’m beggin’ you, please.” His tone had then dropped to a plaintive rasp, vastly different from his humorous jibes earlier. “You, Reigns an’ Rollins are all I’ve got in this world. I’ve…I’ve lost so much. Please, gorgeous.”

Seth hushed him, digging his fingers into his hair almost like he was petting him. Roman urged their partner to lay back down, saying, “You need rest, Ambrose. We don’t want to lose you either, you know.” His expression had softened to the point where he was no longer scary to you, his concern for Dean blatantly obvious through the tough façade he clearly tried hard to maintain.

Dean spoke with you at length while the other two were outside, the light-haired man attempting to lessen your worries in a way that seemed to give you as little information as possible. You hated to admit that, despite his roundabout way of talking, some of the things he mentioned resonated, shoving forward half-recollections from the dark patch that clouded your mind.

You shook your head, ducking underneath the covers and chewing on your thumb as you mulled over the day’s events. You were so conflicted. It wouldn’t have been as bad if your brain didn’t keep offering up weird little bits and pieces of past experiences that you couldn’t fully recall. For all you knew, they were telling the truth. But for all you knew, they weren’t. You flopped back on the pillows, pressing your fists to your forehead and fighting the urge to scream in frustration. Your mind kept looping one scene, startlingly vivid and searing a line of heat through your belly.

--Roman slamming his shoulder into the side of a man who had his hands tight on your upper arms, momentum sending the two of them to the ground. “You do not touch them!” He had announced firmly. “Only we can touch them!”

His face when he had said that, the look in his eyes...what if they were lying? What if they weren’t?

Something bumped against the door. Not hard enough to be a knock, but not light enough to be your imagination or just some creak of the cabin.

Curious now, you slipped out of the bed, shivering at the temperature of the floor. Once you left the safety of the covers, the cold latched onto your body. As fast as you dared, you snuck to the door and turned the handle. Roman was apparently sleeping against your door, his body slumped forward with that deadly-looking hand cannon resting on his right thigh.

You looked at the gun, up at his face and then back to the gun. He stirred and you knew you had to act quickly so he wouldn’t wake the others. Your plan was hardly half-formed when you put it in motion, closing the door again and straddling Roman’s lap. Despite his talk earlier of being a light sleeper, he showed no signs of waking. You cursed inwardly. Maybe you shouldn’t have put yourself in this position before-

He groaned and you sucked in a breath as his eyes drowsily opened. His brow furrowed, those brown eyes slightly crossed when he tried to focus on your face so close to his own. “Gorgeous?” He muttered, obviously caught off-guard.

Good.

“It’s me, Roman.” You whispered back. “Hi.” You took another gamble and cupped his face, rubbing your thumbs through the dark stubble that coated his jaw.

“Y…really?”

“Yes, I remember. I’ve missed you so much.” You said, trying to sound heartfelt.

The speed that he embraced you at startled you, as did the shuddering exhale into your neck. “Christ, gorgeous, I thought Seth was gonna’ go to pieces. When he grabbed you without unbuckling you and you hit your head…we thought you got shot. It was pandemonium.”

You almost felt guilty for playing him like this, but you were fairly certain you wouldn’t get straight answers any other way. “It’s alright. I don’t blame him.” Your hand closed on the grip of his abandoned gun, the weapon lighter than you expected. How to take down an opponent larger than you: You’re already going to be at a disadvantage.

“We should wake them up, they ought to-” You cut him off in a hurry by kissing him clumsily, making him grunt into your mouth before his fingers wove into your hair. His kisses were hungry, foreign and familiar all at once. Your body lit up, losing yourself in the sensation of closeness with another human being. This was so strange, barely-restrained emotions you couldn’t name surging wildly in your chest. You felt almost like you needed to cry.

Roman turned you around in his lap, touching his mouth to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He moved you easily, like he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. Your mind tentatively fluttered a few images in the background when you felt his cock twitch through his pants.

“You’re all set for the night, gorgeous. You rest now.”

The muzzle of the gun pressed to the underside of Roman’s jaw and he went still, obviously comprehending the gravity of the situation. “I want answers.” You breathed, jabbing the unfamiliar weapon up a little harder. In the dim light from the fireplace, you could see the forms of Seth and Dean on the floor sound asleep. You would need to be stealthy about this.

“I don't think the gun is necessary.” Roman murmured back.

“Don’t screw with me.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Serious as cancer.” You gritted out. “Hot lead brain cancer.” You had heard the line in a movie once and you hoped against hope that Roman hadn’t seen the same film. The last thing you needed was him calling your bluff. It was all you could do to keep the gun steady where it dug into his jaw. Roman could easily overpower you. Easily. The easiest out of all of them.

But even he had his Kryptonite. “Damn, you’re intimidating like this.” You could hear the smile in his voice and your body was suddenly flush with heat once more. “What do you want to know?”

“I want straight, succinct answers, not the vague bull that Ambrose was feeding me. Where am I?”

“Different question.”

“You can’t do that!” You protested.

“I can’t, but I will. What are you gonna’ do? Shoot me or ask me a question that will give you an actual answer?” Roman challenged. You swore you could feel the rasp of his stubble travel down the gun’s barrel to the grip.

“Fine.” You spat, biting your lip. “What...what are you guys planning on doing to me?”

His hands stayed on your thighs, fingers digging into your skin while he mulled your question over. For whatever reason his erection didn’t seem to have wilted, continuing to press insistently against the small of your back even with a gun in his face. “I would apologize for my state, but I’m pretty sure you don’t care.” He whispered.

Oh, you cared. You cared immensely. “Naturally. Just answer the damn question.” You hissed. His hands pried your thighs open and shoved your left leg over his own. The right soon followed, spreading you wide in his lap with your back to his chest. You gasped and he covered your mouth, a grunt leaving him when you jabbed the gun upwards against the bottom of his jaw a little harder than before in warning.

“Easy now gorgeous, you’ll bruise me. Just making sure you don’t wake Ambrose or Rollins. They’re…jumpy.” Roman explained in an undertone. “You do have a gun in my face. I’d hate to get my brains blown out because they’re a little excitable.”

“Smart man.” You didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. “Now, what are you guys planning on doing to me?”

“To you? Nothing. At least, nothing unless you consent to it.” You rolled your eyes. “With you though...we’re trying to figure that out. The people after you obviously have a pretty broad reach. You probably should have pulled this little stunt on Rollins. He’s the brains of the outfit.” Roman admitted. “All I know is that we were assigned to you with the warning of this eventually happening. Our organization figured it was our best bet, and your parents seemed to agree. Hell, why do you think we were hired in the first place? We aren’t security, gorgeous. You've probably already put that together.”

“You were…you were hired to kill me?” You asked weakly.

“What? No. Well...I mean, that might have been what people expected since our specialty is more to…neglect to protect our clients. We make it look accidental if someone winds up dead.” Roman shrugged as best as he could, like he hadn't dropped utterly chilling information onto you. “We were assigned to the rich kid bait under the assumption that your stalkers would know exactly who we are, as well as what we specialize in. It was supposed to press them into action. We just...” Roman hesitated, “We didn't expect you to be kind to us, we expected a spoiled brat. It changed our whole game plan, basically, and that spot with the guy in the bridal store was a little too close for comfort.”

-Seth jumping over the wall, his body shielding yours while the dressing room doorknob jiggled--

“You’re not like our usual assignments. We’ve told you that.” Roman swallowed hard. “We knew we needed to really be on top of things, or risk losing you. So we did what we do best. We trained. We stockpiled. We prepared.” He shifted beneath you. “Even trained you, as I’m sure you’ve put together by now. Taught you a few moves in case something happened and we were separated from you.”

“Bet you regret that.” You said triumphantly, prodding him with the gun.

Roman splayed his palm on your stomach, absently rubbing small circles. “I don’t regret a damn thing, gorgeous. I know you can’t remember much of it, but we've got no reason to lie to you. The months that we’ve had with you were the best that they could have been. We’re not giving that up without a fight.” He replied.

The raw honesty in his voice gave you pause. What if they weren’t lying? A little late for second thoughts, you’ve got a gun at his throat! You scolded yourself.

“Granted, being seduced and pumped for information at gunpoint is uh, a new one on me. But there’s a first time for everything.” He was smiling again, that jackass. You growled in irritation. “Wait, am I not being seduced?”

“You’re such a jerk.” You hated that you were blushing this hard. “Don’t get comfortable, big guy. Let’s not forget that you’re the one without the gun.”

“I haven’t gotten comfortable in the slightest. Mainly because I can tell how wet you are. You’re hot and dripping through my clothes, gorgeous. It’s hard to be comfortable when I should be inside you. Something you need to tell me about your power play fantasies?” He whispered in your ear, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you like having me at your mercy.”

“Don’t say things like that!” You reprimanded him, feeling your legs trying to close on reflex while your body sought relief. His hands tightened on your thighs though, keeping you spread open on his lap.

“You could, if you wanted to. You can pretty much call the shots here, gorgeous. I know exactly how much power that gun’s got, and I’d rather not have it splitting my head open at this exceptional point blank range.” Roman’s voice was nothing but a deep purr, vibrating against your ear. “Wouldn't mind if you decided to maybe get a little greedy for me. A little demanding, even.”

What had you been planning on doing? Your head was filling slowly with half-memories, tastes and sensations flooding you in an overwhelming surge. You whimpered without meaning to and Roman seized the opportunity to kiss you again.

You somehow knew what to do in response to every curl of his tongue against your own. You remembered forms, caresses, shadowy longing. An aching familiarity mixed with the uncertainty of your piecemeal recollections, fanning the flames of confusion and arousal in your stomach.

“Because of who we are…what we do, we promised each other that we would take priority over every mission.” Roman gasped out when the two of you parted once more. “And then…and then you came along. The bait for the trap. With all your books and your family that wasn't and we just…we lost, gorgeous. We lost hard.” You went to move and Roman grabbed your wrist, keeping the gun firm. “Oh no you don’t. If you’re shooting someone, it’s going to be me.” His eyes were downright ferocious in the dim light from the fire and it slowly dawned on you that he was absolutely serious.

“You would die for them, huh?” You tried to sound nonchalant, pushing the gun up again to punctuate your question.

“For them and you.” Roman replied sternly. “Without hesitation.” He pressed his mouth to your own once more, fervent murmurs escaping his lips to hang half-spoken in the heated air between you.

“I don’t understand.” You managed to murmur through his ravenous kisses. “Why would you…”

“I know.” Roman tapped the elastic band on your borrowed pair of sleeping shorts. “It doesn’t matter. You call the shots.”

“Your cock out, now.” You demanded before you could really think about how crazy this was. “If you can still get it up with a gun to your head.”

“Lord have mercy, you’re a fucking terror.” Roman choked out after a few moments of silence. He reached down to unzip his pants, shoving the fly open and straining to free his cock through the hole in his boxers. You were starting to suspect that Roman might possibly have a few…quirks of his own when it came to this situation. His body obviously didn’t mind being held at gunpoint.

“You’re supposed to be scared.” You snapped.

“Did I not just call you a terror?” Roman asked. “I work decent under pressure. Try not to make me panic here. Won’t end well for me.” He knocked his chin against the barrel of his hand cannon. “You just keep that gun right where you've got it, and I'll do whatever you want.”

You reached down silently, your fingers closing around his own on his shaft. Roman's breath hitched. “I think you wanted this, Roman.” You whispered. “Is it hard being like you all the time? So strong and brave and in charge?” You gave him a lazy stroke and his head fell back against the door, baring his entire throat to you. You watched his adam's apple bob with his next convulsive swallow.

“Please.” His voice was hardly there. “God damn it, please gorgeous.”

You nuzzled your nose into his neck beside the barrel of the gun and Roman shuddered all over, one hand moving downwards to cup your groin through the thin material of your sleeping shorts. “You're not putting your cock inside me.” You murmured. “I'm not that dumb.”

He wrapped his other hand back around his cock and started stroking himself. “That's fine. I don't need to put my cock inside you.” He grunted. “You're wet through these shorts, gorgeous. This pussy wants me. But hey, deprivation is self-discipline, right? It's not like I can't get myself off like this.” He gently pressed the heel of his palm down on your pubic mound, igniting sparks in your core. “That's right.” He murmured in response to your harsh inhale. “Grind against my hand, circle those hips and use me to get off. Do it gorgeous, do it.”

Your grip on the gun faltered but Roman didn't even seem to notice, kissing you again and rutting his hips upwards to meet his fist. His index finger sought out your clit through the thin fabric of your shorts, stroking over the sensitive nub and grinning when you gasped into his mouth.

“I've got you now, gorgeous. You want someone to dominate? Someone to boss around? I'm pretty sure I can fufill that particular need even better than the guys in your books. You just keep wriggling like that and-” Roman's words choked off as you jabbed him with the gun again, cutting off his breath and forcing his chin up.

“So full of yourself.” You muttered, taking his shaft in your hand and feeling more than hearing him groan. “You're not going to do anything except be obedient.” You rubbed the head of his cock roughly, running your thumb over the slit with firm, repetitive strokes.

“I'm gonna' come.” He choked out suddenly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming--” Roman shuddered beneath you, his hips jerking as his cock spurted onto your thighs and stomach. “Hah, fuck.” He gasped, his chest heaving against your back. “That's fucking embarrassing. Oh well.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pinning your arms to your sides. The gun hung uselessly down by his thigh as Roman took a few deep, steadying breaths. You squirmed, marveling inwardly at the lack of terror that you felt even while being restrained.

“You alright, Reigns?” Oh no, Ambrose was awake. You watched in horror as Rollins sat up next to Dean, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.

Roman ignored the other men for a moment. “A gun only works under two conditions, gorgeous. One: you have to be mentally prepared to pull the trigger. And two: it needs to be loaded.” Roman hissed in your ear.

Your eyes widened.

Roman paused. “Oh, and the safety needs to be off. Three conditions.” His grin was insufferably smug.

“You…oh wow.” Seth seemed to be at a loss for words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes rested on Roman’s cock, still twitching against your stomach over your night shirt.

“This could be the kinkiest shit I see in person in my lifetime.” Dean announced, making Roman laugh. “You fucked him, with a gun to his head? Ku-fuckin’-dos, gorgeous. Kinda’ surprised he didn’t pump you full in retaliation, honestly.”

“You knew it wasn’t loaded!” You exclaimed, knowing that you had no real right to be upset. This strategy had been half-baked at best. Roman tapped your wrist and you released his gun without a fight. You felt yourself go bright red in the face with embarrassed frustration while Roman flipped open the revolver with a practiced flick of his wrist and spun the dry chambers, illustrating that there hadn’t been any danger whatsoever. “Why even go along with it then? You just wanted me to make a fool of myself or something?”

Roman shook his head. “I liked it, why wouldn't I go along with it?” He grinned, “Granted, you startled me at first. I didn't think you had it in you, gorgeous.”

A hand cupped your chin, gently pulling it upwards. Seth offered you a smile. “Hey, it was a good try. Would have worked in a scenario where you were actually in danger, no doubt. You used the resources you had access to.” He praised.

“Fat lot of good it did me!”

“It would have kept you alive. That’s all that matters.” Seth said firmly. “Now, how about you come with me and I’ll get you cleaned up, okay?”

Roman gave you a teasing nip on the neck before you got up and you squealed, smacking his chest. Dean chuckled, “Show him who’s boss, gorgeous,” loudly smooching your cheek on the way by.

Seth led you to the bathroom, sitting you up on the sink like you were a small child and then rummaging in the closet for a washcloth. “Are you alright?” He asked softly while he ran the tap.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Not like I won’t get over being embarrassed.” You raked a hand through your hair, feeling the twitch of an aftershock send a delicious shudder down your spine. You hadn't come from Roman's haphazard ministrations and you couldn't help but wonder whether he would have fucked you if you had let him.

“I’m glad. Glad you didn’t hurt Roman, either.” Seth was dangerous. Seth meant what he said. “We’re all we’ve got in the world, so we try to take care of one another.”

“Roman mentioned.” You grumbled.

“Did he tell you why?” You shook your head and Seth sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “There was an assignment that…the client got in my head. Real deep.” He muttered, seeming ashamed. “I almost got Reigns and Ambrose killed. It was so close to happening. Ambrose…heh, he can take a lot, but that just about broke him.” Seth stared down at the now-wet washcloth in his hands.

“What happened?” You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. “I mean, if you want to tell me you can. You don’t have to.” You hurriedly amended.

“We hadn’t really uh, spilled the beans to one another. About…about the fact that we all liked each other a little more than partners normally do. Look, specifics don’t matter. Long story short, Ambrose got fucked up pretty badly. Roman could at least still move but…shit, I thought he was going to kill me himself.” Seth’s little laugh was mirthless, a hollow noise. “There was blood everywhere and I was bawling my eyes out. Roman had his cannon to my head saying that he wanted answers while he’s trying to hold pressure on his shoulder with his other hand and Ambrose just…it was like he came back from the dead out of sheer spite.”

“-don’t bring a knife to a gun fight-”

“So he’s stubborn.” You shook off the memory of Dean’s voice, unsure of when that had even been from.

“That’s the understatement of the century. Dean cracked his head into mine and he screamed, ‘you’ll have to do better than that!’, this maniac grin on his face the whole time. He had his fingers wrapped around my throat, Roman’s hand cannon all primed up against my skull itching to pull that trigger. I’ve never apologized so hard in my life. I begged for forgiveness.”

Seth spread your legs and carefully smoothed the washcloth over your thighs, making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself, needing an anchor. He hummed soothingly, letting you rock against the pressure of his hand.

“Once we had Ambrose safe and sound in a hospital, Roman took me aside and told me in no uncertain terms that I was on thin ice with him. He absolutely would have killed me.” Recalling Roman’s deadly fierce expression from earlier, you could see it happening. “’Love is a garbage thing, Rollins. Makes my hands shake. Makes me hesitate, second-guess.’ He sounded so angry with himself.” Rollins shook his head, working the warm cloth in small circles. “He punched me right in the mouth and then he hugged me so tight I thought he was gonna’ break my spine.”

Your whine seemed to catch him by surprise. His story was doing nothing to distract from the fact that he was absolutely teasing you on purpose, the warm washcloth equal parts calming and riling. You hiccupped in a breath and he groaned, a kiss landing right beneath your ear. “Seth.” You said softly.

“Yes, gorgeous?”

It had been so much simpler with Roman. You hadn't had time to think. Now you felt shaky, restless in a way that made your knees tremble. Hungry. “Seth, I...I'm scared.” You admitted. He immediately went to move back, his expression concerned. But you caught the back of his neck, rooting him in place. “Not of you. Any of you. I'm scared because if...if what you guys told me is true, that means that we're all in trouble.”

“Not unless we lose you.” Seth breathed, touching his forehead to your own. “Trust me, that's when the real trouble would happen.”

“I want to believe you.”

“It's okay if you don't.” Seth replied kindly. He kissed you and you leaned into it, fingers grasping desperately at his shirt. “Easy gorgeous. I'm not going anywhere.” He murmured, sliding down your body and spreading your legs. “I'm here. Only us. Even if you don't remember, only us.”

...

“Only us.” A large, tan hand dug into Seth's hair, tugging hard enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. Roman kissed the other man's throat when he bared it, gently nipping the stubbled skin with his teeth.

You had gone back to bed after spending a considerable amount of time with Rollins in the bathroom. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the two of you had been doing, so both Dean and Roman were a little surprised when their brother in arms emerged red-faced and clearly hard. The slick coating his beard had offered an excellent clue though, and Ambrose wasted no time cleaning up.

“They taste so damn good, don't they?” He gasped into Seth’s mouth, sloppily tracing his tongue along his facial hair. Seth nodded furiously. “You took care of them? Made sure they didn't go to bed riled up?”

“They're better, yeah. I just wish they would believe us.” Seth sighed, tearing up a little and doing his best to play it off. “They remember bits and pieces. Nothing solid. I know they trust us. I doubt they would have let me get them cleaned up and put my mouth on them if they didn't trust me.” He twiddled his fingers and then moaned as Roman slid his hand into his boxers.

“You're dripping, Rollins. See somethin’ you like?” Dean teased, his tongue poking out from between his teeth.

“Hah, Roman with his cock out and a gun to his head was uh…” Seth shuddered all over as he recalled the moment: stirred from his sleep by rhythmic motion, turning over into his side and realizing that Ambrose was already awake and watching, always watching, as Roman cradled you in his lap and rolled his hips up to meet your hand.

Ambrose had shot Seth a predatory grin and jerked his chin up, pointing out the gun that you held underneath Reigns’ jaw. It was Roman's gun. Roman always had it with him, but he never actually had it loaded unless they were actively working. His reasoning was that if someone was planning on doing anything unsavory, the last thing he wanted was them swiping his gun with bullets ready in the chamber. Obviously you didn't remember that, and it sure as hell made for a thrilling display.

“Maybe I could get ‘em to hold a knife on me.” Dean mused in the here and now, laughing quietly at the responding pitiful whine from Seth. “Oh you like that idea? Good.”

“I dunno’, Dean. Can't exactly unload a knife.” Roman warned pragmatically.

Dean's grin was even wider than before. “Yeah, ain't it great?”

“You got some weird kinks, Ambrose.”

“Uh, I'm sorry, were you not the one fucking the hand of someone with a gun ready inna’ position to pulp ya’ tongue and brains? It would seem that someone in the group is finally freakier than I am.” Dean nudged Roman in the ribs. “Knives are one thing, but guns, Ro?”

“Only if I know it's unloaded!” Roman protested. “I...It's the feeling of it, I guess. I'm so used to the cannon it's kinda’ mundane. Someone else touching it, holding it-”

“Strokin’ the trigger, slidin’ it under your jaw nice an’ easy...are we still talkin’ about the gun, or did ya’ change y’ dick's name while I wasn't payin’ attention?”

“I was talking about the gun.” Roman palmed over Seth's stomach.

“Can we do that sometime?” Seth begged. “Promise I'll be careful.”

“As if I need incentive to rail you harder.” Roman muttered, his rude words achingly fond. “Sure, I'll let you play with my gun if you let me play with yours. Unloaded. Deal?”

Rollins’ voice cracked when Roman groped his cock, his thumb rubbing small circles just beneath the head exactly how Seth liked it. Dean quickly got in on the action himself, shoving Seth's shirt up to lick and suck at his nipples until Seth had to bite down on his own knuckles in a losing effort to keep quiet. “N--not fair, Dean-” He gasped.

His partners knew every button to press, every inch of sensitive skin to torment. He was helpless under their attentions, trapped between them in the best way possible. His surrender wasn't something instinctive. Seth was not a submissive person by nature; he had fought his way to the top of every pile he had ever been thrown under. But this wasn't about submission. He could tease Roman until the other man begged to be fucked. He could make Ambrose do whatever he asked, whenever he asked. It wasn't about submission. It was about the trust the three of them had.

The four of them had.

Seth felt tears roll down his cheeks when he came and he rubbed at his eyes, sniffling pitifully. Roman enveloped him in a warm hug and Dean began stroking his hair in a comforting manner. “It's alright, Seth.” Reigns whispered. “We miss them too.”

Seth gave in to crying in earnest then, his whole body wracked with sobs as he just slumped against Dean's chest and felt Roman hug him a little tighter. “Cry it out, y’ big baby.” Ambrose encouraged roughly. “We got work t’ do, so clear your system and then we'll put y’ to bed.”

“Thank you.” Rollins huffed out, feeling stupid for losing his composure but grateful that his brothers didn't judge him.

Eventually the three of them made their way to the blankets on the floor, all tucked up against one another in a tangle of limbs. Seth found sleep quickly, even with his face half-crushed into Roman's chest.

…

The whole exchange with Seth had given you goosebumps. Just like Roman, there had been an odd melancholy that seemed to lurk in his eyes when he looked at you. Seth was all heat, more focus, his attention wholly on you while he worked you over with eager, expert motions.

Despite his delicious efforts, sleep was not in your future. You found yourself lying on your back in the bed (which seemed far too large now), fidgeting with the covers. Soft sounds from the other room caught your attention, and you craned your neck in an effort to listen harder.

Uncertain as to whether the noises you were hearing were pained or...otherwise, swamped with a sense of deja vu, you snuck to the door and peeked into the next room.

Seth was sandwiched between the other two men, his shoulders heaving with deep sobs. Roman was holding him and Dean was running his hands through his hair, both men quietly reassuring him while he wept. It was a surprisingly tender scene and your heart ached a little, that foreign familiarity striking yet again.

You kept watching as the three of them laid down, huddled up on blankets on the floor. You felt a spike of shame lance through your stomach. Here you were, taking up the bed while the three of them (one of them still healing from a gunshot wound, no less) bedded down on the floor.

You slipped from your room and sidled up to Dean, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I'm awake.” He muttered, startling you enough that you flinched. “Need somethin’, gorgeous?” He blinked up at you, his arms still folded across his chest.

You silently extended your hand and Dean took it after a second, his brow furrowing when you knelt and whispered, “You guys should come sleep in my room.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, sounding suspicious. “Why's that?”

“Because I really doubt that the floor is more comfortable than the bed, and the bed is huge-”

“We ain't tryin’ to hurt you, gorgeous. We also ain't tryin' to get ourselves hurt.” Dean said seriously. “Facts is facts. You believed that gun was functionin’ an’ the only thing that kept Reigns from gettin’ his brains blown out is his own goddamn forethought.” He shook his head, getting to his feet. “Ain't a pretty picture.”

“What have you done in situations where you were alone and thought you couldn't win?” You snapped.

“That's the key right there, ain't it. ‘Thought’. Listen to me, gorgeous. Hear this, even if you wanna’ ignore everythin’ else.” Ambrose tilted your chin up so you had to look him in the eye. “I never believed that there was a situation I wouldn't get out of. I've put all my trust in those two over there. And into you, more recently.” He shrugged, “Sure, I've been concerned once or twice. Rollins probably toldja’ about that though.”

“What actually happened?” You whispered. Dean looked down at the other two men, carefully took your arm and silently led you back into the bedroom. Once you sat down, he stood in front of you with his hands at his sides. Despite the obvious attempt at looking relaxed, you could see his fingers twitching every so often.

“I took my own knife to the back.” He said finally. “Guy was a big fan of brute force vindication, so he whipped it around on me an’ gave me a nice couple of kidney divots.” Ambrose tugged at the neck of his t-shirt and tapped the top of a faded scar that crested his shoulder. “He ripped me open from hip to nape, plain and simple. Blood loss was one thing. The internal damage was kinda’ what had me woozy, though.”

You put a hand over your mouth, stunned. Rollins had dumbed down the scenario, it would seem.

“I was layin’ there in a pool of my own blood, Rollins all curled up around me fightin’ the guy off, protectin’ me a day late and a dollar fuckin’ short.” Dean pointed his index finger at your temple like it was the barrel of a gun. “Reigns came in and blew our client away, then he was on Rollins like a bad suit. Never heard Roman yell like that before.”

“You guys forgave Seth, though. Why?” You cast a glance over at the ajar door. “He could have gotten you killed.”

“Death's a workin’ hazard. I knew that, a’ course. Made peace with it. If he had any sense, Rollins would have ditched us before that went down. I think he was havin’ second thoughts. Doubtin’ himself an' his motives.” Dean stretched, wincing as the bandaging on his ribs pulled at his skin. “Day late and a dollar short, like I said, but at least he knew he fucked up.”

“Why do you guys even do this stuff? Why not just work as normal security or something?”

“I do it because I ain't got nowhere else to go, gorgeous. No blood family. Nobody else except me.” Dean's expression had gone hard. “Roman does it because his pops wanted him to be in the business. Seth does it because he had somethin' to prove and he didn't wanna’ get eaten alive in Spec Ops.” Dean sighed, smoothing his shaggy hair back from his face. “I do it as a way to even the shit odds of this planet. We ain't assigned to good people, okay? You were a weird case. We jumped on it because your parents were totally willing to offer you up as bait. It was our best chance at nabbing these fucks, especially since you'd already had a visit from ‘em.”

“Instead, you had to play babysitter.” The pieces were starting to fall into place for you.

“We figured, fuck it, we can take care of this rich fuck's spawn. We're professionals. Cut off one head to get to the next. We didn't expect you to be so...I dunno’, genuine.” Dean admitted. “Didn't expect you to be so pretty. Didn't expect you to be so damn kind to us.” He gestured up and down, taking in your entire body. “You wrecked us, gorgeous.” He sounded almost angry. “Bent us to y’ fuckin’ will without even tryin’. We stopped plannin’ how we would step over you to get to the bad guys and started payin’ more attention to the way your dad an’ y’ mom treated you. The long bouts of fuckin’ silence, the momentary affections an’...I mean, I still don't get what the end game is. But it don't matter. Cards on the table.” He finished firmly, “We're not lettin' you get kidnapped or ransomed or whatever the hell.”

“Oh.” You said weakly.

“Sorry, I know you were jus’ bein’ polite. Probably weren't expecting the word vomit.” Ambrose muttered self-consciously. “Tryin' to clear up any confusion is all. Been runnin' it over in my head tryin’ to phrase shit right.”

“It's okay. Thank you.” You took his hand, smiling up at him. “You guys have been so kind to me.”

“It's the other way around. Trust me.”

…

Your phone buzzed with a message, waking you from a sound sleep. You wondered at that, thoroughly confused as you fumbled to pick up the phone and unlock it. You didn't think you even had service out here!

-Come outside

You were wide awake now, staring down at the screen with your brow furrowed. A few seconds passed with you just...stock still, reading and rereading the message. It was from a private number, and it was too short to really discern anything about the person's identity.

You slipped out of bed, tiptoeing into the living room.

-Who is this?

-Unless you want those men to get hurt do as I say come outside NOW

Your mind whirled with confusion. Who could this be from? Was this person even able to cause harm to the three men currently sleeping? You gulped, wondering if the cabin had been staked out by snipers or people with night vision goggles.

You remembered the haunted look on Seth's face.

Were you willing to risk it?

You heard movement in the other room and cursed your luck as Rollins leaned against the doorway. “Gorgeous, what're you doing up so early? Y'woke up Roman n’ I.” He yawned, running a hand through his hair. You quickly stepped into an old pair of boots that you had taken note of beside the door. Seth cocked his head to the side. “Gorgeous?” He sounded a little more awake now and you knew you had to act fast. Your hand closed around the doorknob. “Hey, wait, what-”

You yanked open the door and were greeted with a frigid blast of cold air, ignoring it in favor of continuing to bolt.

“Gorgeous!” Seth shouted from the door and you whirled to face him, wrapping your arms around your body.

“Don’t try to follow me!” You said firmly, already shivering. “I'm serious, Seth!”

“I'm not letting you go out here, dammit! You'll freeze dressed like that!” Seth swore, yanking on his own boots. “We're not letting you die out here!”

“You need to stay inside for your own good!” You yelled, making him pause.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘for my own-'!” His words were drowned out by the sound of a rapidly-approaching small motor. You had only half-turned when something struck the back of your head, sending you tumbling face-first into the snow. For the second time in your life, the warm blackness devoured you.

…

Diesel groaned, scratching the nape of his neck and making his spiked gray hair fluff up even further. “Lemme’ get this straight.” He began slowly. “You guys want permission to...go after this kid. We scrubbed the assignment but you guys want my permission to go after Gold to get the kid back. The one that he kidnapped from you because you swiped them out from beneath his nose, right?”

“Yes sir.” Seth continued to stare straight ahead.

Diesel sighed. “Why the fuck do you want to go after him yourselves? The kid was supposed to be bait, remember? We were gonna’ send another team-”

“It’s personal now sir.”

“That gives me like, even less incentive to put you three back on this. What the fuck Rollins, c'mon.” Diesel scolded. “You coulda’ tried to make up an excuse or something, man. Am I not worth lying to?”

“I'm not going to damage my reputation by lying to you, sir. I know there's plenty of people here that still see me as a traitor. I am being one hundred percent honest with you.” Seth's voice shook a little and Ambrose placed a hand on his shoulder. “We need to be put back on this.”

“No, you want to be put back on this.” Diesel opened a drawer in his desk. “I'm not redoing your briefing, I can't guarantee any backup-”

“Understood.”

“Let me finish, damn it.” Diesel jabbed a finger at Seth, his brow furrowed. “I might be lazy, little man, but I'm no fool. You three and your relations with one another are quickly becoming a working hazard. You add another person into your mess and it might just blow up in your face. I ain't hatin' on your free and easy lifestyle, just your lack of regard for your own wellbeing! You guys are good at what you do. Don't fuck this up for yourselves.”

“We need to save them. We...We're all they have.” Rollins said quietly. “Imagine being alone and scared with a gaping hole in your memories, with parents that would willingly hand you over to be bait! Goldberg is going to hurt them, I know he is. We need to stop him.”

“Cut the bleeding-heart bullshit, Rollins. You three trying your luck at Errol Flynn-ing this kid isn't something that I can condone.” Diesel slid a folder out of the drawer, opening it up and spreading the contents so they were easily viewable from the other side of the desk. “My hands are tied here, boys. I'm sorry.” He paused, then winked, tapping his finger on a highlighted paragraph. “We don't really know where Goldberg’s gone to ground anyway. This is a dead end.”

“Of course. We're sorry we wasted your time.” Dean muttered, his eyes still latched onto the pages on the desk. “Thank you anyway. For er, bein’ willing to listen to us.”

Diesel waited until Ambrose shot him a sidelong look beneath his bangs before he tucked the file back into his desk. “Now, you boys enjoy the holidays. See Michaels for another assignment if you don't want the time off.”

“Yeah.”

Rollins was squinting at the older man, as if he was waiting for him to do something. Diesel grunted and made a shooing motion. “Get outta’ my office.”

Once the trio had left, Diesel leaned back in his chair and speed dialed Michaels.

“What's up Big?”

“Who do we have active right now? Yeah, I know you sent the report this morning. Just humor me and refresh my memory, man.�� Diesel leaned back even further in his chair, running a hand through his hair yet again.

There was a pregnant pause and then Michaels grudgingly obliged, “Logs showin’ recent check ins from our kid in Bulgaria, the Everglades lightin’ up like a damn Zemeckis star field, we have more activity in Canada and Mexico-”

“Well at least I didn't lie to ‘em about the no backup.” Diesel sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Why the fuck can't the clowns of the world take the holidays off?” He grumbled.

…

You woke up in your own bed. You laid there motionless for a second, then bolted upright as memories flooded you. You remembered hitting your head, not knowing who your security team was, the cabin, trying to hold Roman at gunpoint, Seth-

Goldberg. Your blood ran cold. So that was why you'd been offered up as bait. Your father had sometimes griped about him in the background of Skype calls. You only vaguely remembered seeing the large bald man on television once, and it wasn't for anything good. So this was what he was up to? Kidnapping? Or extortion? Both? You could hope it was something that simple.

“Rise and shine kiddo. It's Christmas morning.” You jolted, so deep in thought you hadn't even heard the man approach. “Spacey as usual, I see. Daddy dearest wasn't lying there.” He sighed, seeming disappointed. “Really hoped you'd put up more of a fight, honestly. Wanted to have a few bruises to help ease the bucks out of your parents’ wallet.”

Your fists clenched beneath the blankets.

“Ah well, can't be helped. C'mon, it's time for lunch already. You've been sleeping for ages, blunt force trauma does that to a person.” Giving you no option to argue, Bill Goldberg took your elbow and hauled you out of bed. Your knees shook and he grunted when you almost collapsed. “Shit, you're frail. Neglect, I guess.” The hand on your arm was like a vice. You could feel the strength in his fingers alone, like Seth but entirely malicious. There was no holding it in check to keep from scaring you, he was attempting to intimidate and it was absolutely working.

You followed him downstairs, doing your best to appear docile. The whole time your mind was pitching back and forth, rattling down a list of options that grew more and more farfetched. Fear suddenly squeezed at your heart and before you could think about it you blurted out, “did you hurt them?”

“Who?” Goldberg asked nonchalantly.

“Don't play dumb with me!” You snapped.

“Easy with that attitude, kiddo. You want a beating? Just for the sake of argument I'll assume you're talking about your ‘security’ team.” Goldberg chuckled. “What a joke! They didn't even come after me! Of course, me being on a snowmobile probably factored in to the nonexistent pursuit of your kill squad.” He mused, his eyes fixed on you while you flushed uncomfortably. “I guess they really had you fooled. You know they don't really do security, right? Or did they not even have the balls to tell you that much?”

“Ambrose told me-”

“Can’t even believe he's still alive.” Goldberg muttered like he was talking to himself. “Never mind. I don't really give a shit. I whipped up something for lunch and I expect you to eat. After we've got some food into you, we'll give your folks a little Christmas call. Can't have you passing out from hunger, now can I?”

You stared at your plate once he sat you down at the long table in the dining room, your brow furrowed. “What did you do to this?” You asked incredulously, poking the lump of charcoal that might have been a pile of hamburger at one point. “You're how old and you don't even know how to cook something as simple as a burger?” You knew that your flippant words were reckless, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were on your own, with nothing but the training that you'd been given by Seth, Dean and Roman.

How to take down an opponent larger than you: You’re already going to be at a disadvantage. First things first, get your opponent off-balance.

Bill appeared to be ignoring you. The only indicator that he heard you was the vein in his forehead growing more and more prominent.

“You do realize that my family regularly frequents high-class restaurants, right?” You needled, folding your arms across your chest and making a show out of turning your nose up. “I wouldn't feed this to a dog, Mr. Goldberg.”

“Keep it up kiddo.” He hissed, twisting the handle of his fork in the tablecloth. “I'm sure your parents wouldn't care if I had you skip a few meals.”

“Naturally. They'd probably applaud you. Should have heard my mother wailing about getting my gala dress refitted.” You shot back. He was jealous, you realized, taking in how he had set the table. Silverware in the wrong places, too many dishes for the lone course he had made and the fanciest tablecloth in the linen closet. He appreciated the finer things in life despite obviously having little practice in utilizing them, playing at opulence with the clumsy enthusiasm of a child.

There was a crash that sounded like it came from the foyer and Goldberg glanced up in confusion, his fork hovering in midair. You saw his hand shaking. Just a tiny bit.

“Kiddo, did you invite anyone else for lunch?” He asked you calmly, the furrow between his brows a textbook warning sign.

You shook your head and the older man struck, his fingers clamping down on the back of your neck and slamming your head into the table. Your vision greyed out for a second, right hand instinctively digging at your hip for the knife Ambrose had given you as a birthday present. But you didn’t have it. Of course you didn’t.

“Don’t lie to me, you little brat.” Goldberg hissed. “No one else could be out there. No one else gives a fuck about you. Not even your own parents. How much did you pay them to get them on your side? Whatever it is, I can double it easily.” He was seething. “This game is over.”

Pay? You think their loyalty can be bought, you mused inwardly. And I’m the dumb one.

The French doors to the foyer burst open and in strode three very familiar men. “Guys!” You cried, wincing in pain when Goldberg slammed your head down a second time.

“Not another step closer.” Goldberg warned. “Whatever they’re paying you, I can top it. You boys would be damn useful on my side of the law.”

Seth looked about ready to explode out of his own skin. He had that sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, nearly as long as he was tall, and he just…tossed it aside. You felt Goldberg twitch at the motion. “You're going to regret this.” Rollins said softly.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hang on a sec.” Dean clapped a hand on Seth’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Look old man, if you’re willin’ to up the ante…” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “We can be reasonable. Ain’t no need for bloodshed on our part, right Rollins?”

“Consider your payment doubled.” Goldberg was grinning wildly. “See kiddo? This is why people like me win, and people like you lose.” He released you, and then caught you by surprise when he slammed your head back down a final time in passing.

…

Seth bit his lip so hard that his skin crunched in warning. His eyes were fixed on you, breath pulling unevenly in his chest as he barely kept himself from blindly lunging at Goldberg. Remember how to do this. Keep quiet. Make him forget that you’re here. Ambrose will talk. Roman will be obvious. You can be invisible.

You hadn’t moved since Bill had cracked your skull into the table. Seth forced himself to ignore your motionless form.

“Gold, I know you say you can double what they’re givin’ us. But uh, you gonna’ give us any proof? Our current handlers ain't exactly hurtin’ for cash, so I’m kinda’ drawin’ a blank on this whole ‘doubling’ thing.” Dean drawled, leaning on Roman’s shoulder and giving the older man a leering smirk. “You’re willing to kidnap and threaten a defenseless person with violence to get a couple hundred thou’ outta’ their family, collateral damage don’t mean shit to you. Plus the little stunt you pulled with your posse invadin’ the house in the dead of night almost had me buyin’ the farm. Didn't want us collectin’ your paycheck?”

“You boys were getting ready to strike. It was a fun game we played, you three trying to lull me into a false sense of security with bowling.” The older man accused. He was wisely keeping his distance, making sure the long banquet table stayed between him and the three men. “I’m sorry, I didn’t consider bowling to be a vital part in your strategy!”

“We needed to get the kid outta’ the house.” Ambrose shrugged, picking at a scab on his chin. “It’d be easier to manipulate them an’ make it look like an accident if they trusted us. You know that from personal experience. Ain’t our fault they were a shut-in.”

While Ambrose prattled on Seth eased back a step, then another. Casual, nonchalant. Dean's hand behind his back flashed a series of fingers at him. Two together, a pause, and then one. Wait a minute.

“Gold, you know above all that we're reasonable guys. You wanna’ know how much our sweet little thing was payin’ us to keep them safe?” Seth could picture the shit-eating grin on Dean's face. “Not a fuckin’ cent. We're paid by our organization. That's it. So if you can double nothin’, I guess y’ must be a man of great fuckin’ substance.”

Goldberg sputtered, obviously at a loss for words, and Dean quickly beckoned Rollins on behind his back while Roman grabbed hold of Dean's other wrist. Seth had a running start of only a few feet and he hoped and prayed it was enough, bolting forward and planting his boot in the cradle his brothers had created to launch him up and over.

It was apparently more than adequate momentum. Seth hastily tucked his head in for the flip over Dean and Roman, bending his knees and rolling through the landing to skid to a halt bare inches from Goldberg’s face. The dishes on the table clattered in his wake and Bill just...stared at him, nose to nose.

“Like I said.” Seth whispered, grabbing the collar of the larger man's shirt. “You're going to regret this.”

“Oh I doubt th-” Whatever smug remark Goldberg had been about to make was cut short by the sound of a blade being drawn. Seth hadn't even noticed Dean and Roman moving to flank him, and from the look on Goldberg's face it appeared that he hadn't either.

“Choose your words real careful, paycheck.” Dean growled, the blade of his knife sliding lazily beneath Goldberg's chin. “I ain't merciful like Rollins. And I won't make it quick like Reigns. I'll make it ugly.”

“This is illegal.” Bill pointed out, his voice shaking.

“You've got to be shitting me.” Dean replied incredulously. “All of a sudden your dumb ass knows right from wrong? Don't make me fuckin’ laugh. I could slit your throat and there ain't a jury that would convict me, Bill.”

Seth saw a flurry of motion out of the corner of his eye and then you were clinging to Goldberg's arm, mumbling no no no. They hadn't even noticed the gun that Bill had, a concealed belt holster maybe? Rollins cursed his own inattention, his grip never wavering. Goldberg easily shook you off and jabbed the barrel into Dean's side, chuckling.

Ambrose grinned back in that way that made it look like he was baring his teeth, devoid of mirth with ice in his eyes. “Nice try, Bill. Better luck next time.”

Roman struck, his arm rocketing forward to slam the butt of his hand cannon down on Goldberg's wrist. Bill yelped, releasing his gun on reflex and Seth cheered inwardly when you caught it. That deadly click announced that Roman was losing his patience, the large man cordially asking, “Gorgeous, how’s your head?”

“Better than ever.” You grumbled, wiping away the trickle of blood from a small cut over your eyebrow. “So what now? The police, right?”

“Nah. This scumbag is special.” Dean mused. “Why the long face? Big’s gonna’ be thrilled to see ya’, Bill! Lighten up.”

“You're sure I can't change your minds?” Goldberg implored as Seth pulled out a handful of zipties. “You boys are wasting your talent working with that asshole. Just think of what you could do if you joined me instead. C'mon!” His eyes landed on you and Seth hated with a passion the smirk that crept across his face. “Imagine what you could get away with, what you could do to them-”

“You'd better shut your mouth before one of us gags you.” Roman’s tone was calm, a stark contrast to the subject matter of his words. “You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you take full advantage of that and shut the fuck up.”

Bill wisely clammed up and allowed the three men to secure him to a dining room chair, where he waited silently.

“Nash is on his way. He had a patrol a few miles south. No backup, my ass.” Ambrose grumbled after he got off the phone.

“Let me see your head, gorgeous.” Seth gave you as thorough of a checkup as he could, trying not to fixate on the swollen cut over your eyebrow. “How do you feel? Woozy? Halo in your vision? Any disturbances?” He asked worriedly, cupping your face so he could see if your pupils were equal and tracking motion properly.

He was distraught when your eyes filled with tears, but then you smiled up at him. “I'm okay! I promise.” You laughed, wiping at your eyes. “I mean, my head is sore, yeah. But I'm okay Seth.”

Rollins silently embraced you, carefully stroking the back of your head as you sniffled into his tactical vest and clung to him. “We told you we would keep you safe. I'm sorry we were a little late.”

“I tried really hard to keep him off-balance.”

“You did good, gorgeous.” Dean rasped, rumpling your hair. “Kept his ass yammerin’ until the cavalry arrived. We're a pretty small cavalry, a’ course. Kinda’ raggedy. But we do our best.” Dean nudged his nose into Seth's cheek. “We gotta’ talk about y’ somersault there, Rollins.”

“It was a combat roll.” Seth huffed, knocking his forehead back into Dean's.

“Great half-ass cartwheel.”

“I didn't see you doing any flips, Ambrose!” Dean flipped him off in reply and Seth couldn't help the hysterical cackle that exploded out of him. He heard you start to giggle into his chest and he held you a little tighter, unable to keep the smile off his face.

…

The latest holiday movie played on in the background and you dimly heard Roman making his way back upstairs, no doubt with fresh popcorn in hand. The three of you had settled in on your bed after Mr. Diesel and his associates had come to collect the docile Goldberg, the extremely tall man shaking your hand as though you were a new business partner.

“I'll be in touch,” he’d said with a sly wink, shooting a glare at the three men behind you. “And as for you boys, you have any idea how much paperwork I'm gonna’ have to fill out to take care of this mess?”

You nudged Seth's side and his arm moved to hug your shoulders. “You want to sit on my lap?” Seth offered and you quickly took him up on it, immensely enjoying the way he pulled you back into his chest. “No guns, right?” He murmured, his hands moving to your hips so he could tuck you tighter into his lap.

You shook your head with a laugh, making an embarrassing noise when he ground his hardening length up against you.

“Uh oh, sounds like Rollins is gettin’ handsy.” Dean teased, leaning over to peck you on the cheek. “What’s the matter gorgeous, he grindin’ his dick against you? He loves doin’ that shit.”

You couldn’t answer as Seth tugged your panties to the side, kisses falling at random on your neck. You could almost hear Dean smirking.

Roman sauntered back onto the bed and settled against the headboard, lazily extending one arm laden with your snack of choice. He wiggled it just out of reach and you crawled forward to grab it, whispering a thank-you. You hoped and prayed that your excitement hadn’t left any embarrassing slick marks on Rollins’ pants. You knew you were wet through your underwear already, feeling the heat on your inner thighs.

Seth flipped your skirt up over your hips as you hungrily tucked in to your snack, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your exposed skin.

Dean swore under his breath, nothing but a gritty, low, “fuck.” Roman glanced over at that, grinning when he saw your position and the way Seth’s hands were moving.

“Fucking ridiculous.” He laughed. “Not that I can blame you. We're all safe and sound. It's a relief. Feels almost normal again, right?”

You looked back at Seth, who actually whimpered at you in a ridiculous manner. “Please?” He asked softly. “You’re already so wet, and Dean and Roman are right here. All you have to do is sit down, I promise.” There was the ticking sound of a zipper pulling open. “Please, gorgeous, please please.”

Feeling like an entirely different person, bold and maybe (just maybe) a little needy, you handed off your snack to Ambrose. “Only if I get to finish my snack after I’ve gotten a treat.” You bargained, dragging a sharp inhale from Roman.

“Anything you want.” Seth agreed rapidly.

“Shit, I think we’d give you a ‘treat’ any old time.” Dean growled.

You settled back down on Seth’s lap, squeezing his freed cock teasingly between your thighs for a moment before you rose back up and let him have his way. Seth’s hands dug beneath your top and into your bra to toy with your breasts, making you tremble in his grip. “I am gonna’ fill you up and make you come on my dick.” He promised in your ear, his cock sliding over your pussy. “Up a little, and then relax.” He coached and you obeyed, the head of his dick breaching you slowly.

“God, gorgeous, you always take him so good. Just like me, just like Roman.” Dean murmured. “We oughta’ fuck him open while he’s tryin’ to fuck you. See how far his focus gets him before he starts beggin’.”

“Easy man, don’t wanna’ come before them.” Seth protested, his voice a little shaky. “That’s right gorgeous, you just lean into my hands. Lean into them, so I can fuck you.”

You had watched Dean and Roman finish Seth off more than once, watched them jerk him until he came with a gasping sigh of completion. The idea of him actually getting fucked by one of them was relatively untouched territory, though apparently not for them judging by how hard Seth was bucking up into you. You couldn't deny that the notion had merit.

“When we fuck each other, we fuckin’ spread each other open. Seth makes the best noises outta’ everyone, don’t you Seth?” Dean rasped, “Whimpers and whines, loves it. One time Roman and I pinned him to the wall and took turns railin’ him.”

That was an image for sure, your mind running wild. Your pussy clenched on Seth's cock and he gasped, his breath coming in sharp bursts. “No fair, you can't say shit like--hngh, they like it Ambrose you can't-” He choked.

“He likes being sloppy.” Roman confided. “Would you like that, Seth? You want to get fucked while you fuck them?”

Seth went dead still inside you. You could feel his thighs trembling and jerking with the effort of not moving and you rolled your hips, making Seth bury his face in your shoulder helplessly.

“You wanna’ get fucked, doncha’? Wanna' get bent over and filled up?” Dean crooned, a hand already fisted in Seth's hair. “Maybe twice, right? Maybe maybe?”

“You want Dean to fuck you while you fuck them? Or do you want to sit in my lap?” Roman purred. “Grind on my cock while you fuck yours into them? We're waiting.”

“D-Dean first then you Roman,” Seth said all in a rush, avoiding looking at your eyes like he was embarrassed. “Please, I--”

“Shh, we've got you.” Roman soothed, sitting up and moving to lift you bodily off of Seth's cock. You whined in complaint and Roman chuckled, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “So impatient. I have to prep him, gorgeous. Do me a favor and jerk him slow while I open him up, okay? I want to see how long he can go without coming.” He greedily fondled your breast through your shirt, like he couldn't help himself. You whimpered and rocked against the comforting bulk of his body and Dean chuckled.

“We're all so greedy for you, gorgeous.”

Seth groaned when you finally laid beside him on the bed, his head hanging while he stayed on his hands and knees. You skimmed a hand over his now-shirtless chest, watching in delighted surprise as he jolted and gritted his teeth after you circled his nipples. Your fingers moved lower, finding his cock and gripping it loosely. It was still dripping from your own slick and you crooned, “good boy,” in his ear, making him swear under his breath and rock his hips down into your hand.

Roman began the careful, gentle process of working Seth's body open, preparing him for the eventual intrusion with two lubricated fingers. Dean knelt in front of Seth, his jeans unzipped and his cock out. He stroked himself a few times and you were certain he was making a show of it, staying out of Seth's reach for a few precious minutes to keep him distracted from any initial pain. Seth wasted little time swallowing down the other man's length once Dean did move close enough, whining and grunting around it in response to either Roman or you, you weren't entirely certain. Rollins seemed torn between humping your hand or fucking back onto Roman's fingers, settling for a weird twitch of his hips every few seconds that seemed to satisfy him.

“How it usually works, gorgeous, is that I prep him for Dean, who in turn preps him for me.” Roman said conversationally to you while scissoring and crooking his fingers. Seth cried out, saliva trickling down the side of his jaw as Dean continued to thrust roughly into his mouth. “I'm a little thicker than Dean, so it's for the best that Ambrose goes first and warms him up.” Reigns brought his palm down lightly on the curve of Seth's rear, not really hard enough to be considered a swat. More of a caress. “Seth loves it when we go one right after the other. Loves feeling all used and fucked out.”

Rollins nodded rapidly, Dean helpfully holding his hair back out of the way.

“Not sure how it might change with you in the mix, but it's going to be interesting.” Roman mused, his eyes narrowing. “Rollins, you’d better not be about to come. Gorgeous, give the base of his cock a tight squeeze.” Seth made a despairing noise that sent shivers down your spine, the power you held over him suddenly obvious. “Hey, no complaining. This is your own fault for being so quick on the trigger.” Roman chided, his fingers wrapping around your own to firmly grip the base of Seth's cock. It twitched like it had a mind of its own, throbbing hot in your hand as Seth squirmed a little. “Sneaky brat. Stop whining and let them milk you like a good fuck toy.”

“Enough.” Dean gasped, pulling back out of Rollins’ mouth. “Wanna' fuck him now.”

“I'm ready, I promise, I promise.” Seth arched his back. “Fuck me Dean, c'mon, I want to fuck them-”

“Alright gorgeous, on your belly underneath him.” Roman got you into position, smirking at the noise Seth made and the way he rubbed his cock against the swell of your rear. “Ambrose, mount him once he's got his cock in them.”

Seth peppered the back of your neck with hungry kisses, one hand entwined with your own as he guided his cock to penetrate you from behind with a slow roll of his hips. You gasped and squirmed up, loving the new angle, then froze when Seth cried out, “F--uck's sake, A-Ambrose!” His breathing hitched and you heard a low groan from Dean.

“Christ Reigns, you always slick him up so nice. Slid right in.” Dean rasped. He leaned down to grab your hand, the one that Seth already had a death grip on. “How you doin’, Rollins? Gonna’ come? If you hold off, I'll make it worth your while.”

“Dean-” Seth half-sobbed, his hips working furiously to fuck into you. His hands groped at the bed beneath you, searching out your breasts and cupping them. “Dean, God, gorgeous you feel so good, so fucking good--”

You were breathless underneath the two men, feeling the pace Ambrose set through Seth's motions. Rollins brought his hips flush to your rear, seating himself as deeply as he could inside you. All you could do was try to arch up and fuck back at him, every inch of skin tingling with heat and arousal.

“Oh no, oh no--” Seth panted in your ear, digging beneath you again to rub his fingers over your clit. You cried out at the lightning bolt of sensation and Ambrose snarled.

“Holy fuck, easy Rollins. Loosen up.” He choked out. “Deep breaths, I don't wanna’ hurt you.”

Seth was clearly paying him no mind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he hammered down into you with sharp, precise strokes. He had gone nearly silent, his teeth digging fiercely into his lower lip.

“Seth.” Dean snapped, Rollins’ chin suddenly gone from your shoulder. “You want me to pull your hair, I'll pull your fuckin’ hair, but you need to relax around me otherwise this shit is gonna’ hurt you.” Ambrose warned. Seth whined pitifully and you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. He looked dazed, his lips slightly parted and wet while Ambrose kept that grip on his hair. The angle his back was bent at couldn't have been comfortable but he didn't even seem to care, letting Dean push him into you.

“M’ sorry.” Seth apologized, licking his lips and then biting them nervously.

“Now fuck them like you mean it.” Dean ordered, releasing Seth's hair. Rollins propped himself up with his elbows on either side of your body, rapidly sliding his length in and out of you. You felt like you were melting, molten hot from proximity and activity. Your thighs were shaking with the strain of holding back from coming, your clit aching for more attention as you tried not to grind back against Seth. You didn't want this to end! It was just too good, filthy and sweet and full.

“Damn Rollins, you're almost as wet as they get.” Dean grunted. “Fuck toy likes gettin' railed. You love it when I get balls deep, don't you?”

Seth pushed his forehead in between your shoulder blades, twitching and moaning as he desperately kept moving. “Ambrose y' gonna' make me come if you keep talking-”

“I love it when you fuckin' squirm for me, you tighten up around me like you want me to fuckin' snap you in half.” Dean growled.

Your body went into spasm, the idea of Seth being fucked into submission apparently too much for you. Your mouth opened to scream but nothing came out, fingers clawing for purchase on the sheets beneath you.

“Oh God, oh God, they're coming, Dean they're coming, fuck--” Seth sighed, circling his hips. “Fuck me, they feel so good...” You sobbed out a breath and took his hand again, kissing his knuckles.

“Don't mind if I fuckin' do.” Dean muttered, snapping his hips forward to meet Seth's body. A few more strokes was all it took for Ambrose to come, the light-haired man planting a hand on the bed beside your head as he shuddered and gasped his way to his own completion. You watched the muscles in his arm flex and shake with the force of holding his weight and you couldn't help shivering again, all the while whispering thank you, thank you...

…

When Dean pulled out, Seth felt his cock twitch needily. He had to stay still, had to stay still. He'd been told not to come, so he had to stay still.

Roman settled back onto his knees, hissing and then smearing some of Dean's come down the back of Seth's thigh as it dripped out of him. “I'm fucking taking you now, Rollins. You're not allowed to come unless they do again, got it?”

Seth knew he must look delirious, his hair all over the place and his whole body flushed with heat. “Whatever you want.” He breathed, watching hungrily over his shoulder while Roman stroked himself a few times with the lubricant from the bottle on the nightstand.

“I know Ambrose got you plenty fucking wet for me.” Roman muttered, still helping himself to a second coating after he put on a condom. “You ready, Seth? Ready for this fucking cock?”

Seth loved the way Roman would get all heated and almost-angry, swears falling rapid as compliments. Seth knew from experience that the more he would surrender, the better it would be. “Please, Roman.” He whispered.

Seth loved the way you shivered beneath his body, obviously overstimulated but loving every second of it. You tugged him down to kiss you and he went happily, his tongue tangling with your own.

Seth loved the way Ambrose softened and fawned over him when he knew he was about to get fucked, the other man's hands stroking his hair and shoulders in a way that was startlingly tender for someone like Dean.

Rollins dissolved into helpless babbling with his hands fisted in the sheets on either side of your head as Roman slowly, slowly sank the length of his dick into him. Seth's forehead rested on your back, his fingers gripping at your sides as he tentatively eased back onto Roman's cock, taking him inch by inch. The growl Roman let out spiraled down into Seth's core, an unfiltered, guttural noise of pleasure so honest it made him want to come on the spot. Seth was hot, slick, a filthy mixture of come and lubricant allowing him to take Roman better than usual.

Dean wiggled you out from beneath Seth, kissing you fiercely and choking back a laugh when you moved against his body in a sensual manner. “You want a taste, gorgeous? Or do you want the whole experience?” Seth watched hazily as you leaned in and whispered something in his ear, Dean's eyes widening and then half-lidding. “That ain't a bad idea, gorgeous.” He murmured, a lazy grin turning up the corner of his mouth. “Pass me a condom and prepare to have y’ dreams come true.”

“You're fucking them Ambrose?” Roman asked, releasing his hold on Seth's hips to reach beneath him and loosely grip the shaft of Seth's cock.

Rollins didn't mean to come, it just sort of happened, the younger man coating Roman's fingers with a muffled gasp. Seth's breathing rasped in his throat as he came down from the high, dimly aware that Roman was not slowing down in the slightest.

“I told you to wait.” Roman murmured. “You did good though, I guess I shouldn't have touched your cock. Now this means I'll have to fuck a second one out of you.” He slid his palms down over the front of Seth's thighs, digging his fingers in for a better grip and full on rutting his cock into Seth.

Rollins sobbed out, pressing his forehead to the bed. It was so good it was overwhelming, his body in spasm from coming and Roman slip-dragging over that spot inside that made him light up. His cock rubbed against the sheets, half-hard just from the pressure alone.

He heard you moan and he found the strength to raise his head, watching hungrily. Dean and you were both on your knees, your back to his chest while he slowly fucked up into you from behind. Roman chuckled overhead and the next thing Seth knew he was being repositioned, Roman tugging him carefully upright into a mirror of the other two.

Roman’s hand slipped beneath Seth's jaw, holding the younger man's face steady while he tweaked and toyed with his nipples. “You like this, Rollins? I can fuck you just like them.” He hissed, grinning when Dean gripped you tightly and sidled even closer. “You two could even make out while Dean and I fuck you. What do you say, Seth? Give us a show.”

Seth buried his face in Roman's neck to hide his embarrassment, covering the skin there with kisses. It was uncharted territory for you to be around when they were actually fucking one another, normally they just jerked each other off because it was less of a hassle. But with you here, getting fucked while he was getting fucked too...

Seth chanced another look at you and saw Dean fondling your breasts and pressing his hand to your stomach to keep you steady, whispering in your ear. Whatever he was saying was making you writhe on his dick, your eyes fixed on Seth the entire time. Dean managed to move even closer, directly opposite from Seth and Roman with nothing but a few inches separating you and Rollins.

Roman grinned against Seth's shoulder, reaching out to give one of your nipples a teasing flick. Dean did the same to Seth, laughing at Rollins’ pitiful noise in reply. “Fuck, they tightened up when you made that sound. Roman, I think they like watchin’ him gettin’ railed.” Ambrose smirked. “Isn't that right, gorgeous? You like watchin’ Seth gettin’ worked over? I know you like it when we suck or jerk each other off, so I'm sure this is fuckin’ divine for you.”

You caught one of Seth’s hands, bringing it to your mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you.” You said softly.

Rollins huffed out a breath and kissed you as hard as he could, carding his fingers through your hair. “Thank you.” He breathed.

Dean grabbed a handful of Roman's hair, grinning when the larger man snapped his teeth at him. “So mouthy on top!” He teased, letting the black locks slide through his fingers. Roman wrapped his hand around Seth's throat and threw his arm over the other man's chest, effectively pinning Seth's body to his own. “I am just about ready to come.” Roman was grunting with every thrust, a sure sign of his impending orgasm. “So you just stay put like a good little fuck toy and let me fill you up, alright?”

Seth nodded to the best of his ability, his breath barely wheezing past Roman's hand. “God, please-” He gasped, squirming as much as he could.

“Shh, don't try to talk. Just keep those fucking legs spread and take my cock as deep as you can.” Roman murmured against his ear. His hand moved to Seth's cock again, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Look at how they watch you.” He whispered.

Seth glanced up again, meeting your gaze. You were worrying your lip with your teeth, watching Seth's face while Dean pounded into you from behind.

“They fucking like this, Seth. Bet they'd love to watch you fuck Dean and I.” Roman crooned, gripping Seth's hips and thrusting up into him so hard Seth's mouth popped open. “I know you love it when I beg for you, when Ambrose scratches your back because he can't handle how intense you are.” Roman slammed in and out wordlessly for a few seconds, then grappled with the front of Seth's thighs and sheathed himself as deeply as he could.

Across from him, Ambrose did the same to you, his teeth digging into your neck as you cried out. Roman’s cock twitched inside of Rollins and Seth couldn't help the sounds that came out of him as he came again, the sensation of orgasm almost painful. He groaned and shuddered while Roman continued to slowly rut into him, no doubt enjoying the flex of Seth's violently-shaking inner walls even after he came.

Your voice cracked with a soft, “I'm coming-”, your back arching and Dean growling out some nonsense words before he came.

Seth hungrily reached for you and you moved into his grasp, letting him run his fingers soothingly through your hair as you came down from your high. Dean and Roman, much to Seth's chagrin, actually high-fived each other like they had just won a football game. You sputtered and hiccuped with laughter, your breath still uneven from coming and Seth groaned, rolling his eyes before kissing your forehead. “Nothing quite like working with professionals.” He griped.

“You love us, Rollins. Don't you forget it!” Roman grinned. “Shower? Dean kinda' made a mess.”

“You're telling me.” Seth couldn't help his snicker when Dean pouted at him. “Chill out, Ambrose. I'll get you back.”

“Can I watch?” You asked, an excited smile on your face.

Dean burst out laughing, giving you a gentle swat on the rear. “Good to know your kinks ain't just gunplay. Guess you're a voyeur too. I can live with that.”

“What do you mean, gunplay?! I'm not-”

“Don't even try to deny it gorgeous, you loved that shit! Good thing Reigns didn't uh, go off early, right?”

Roman groaned in exasperation, knuckling Ambrose upside the head. “You're impossible.”

“You know you love me!” Dean protested.

“I really do.” You said softly, startling Rollins. “All of you. Thank you for being with me.”

“Hey,” Seth replied when he trusted his voice, “I mean, what's the holidays without family, right?”

“C'mon, let's hurry up and get showered! We still have to open presents!”

“Presents?!”

[lord-explosion-baku]

random but been meaning to ask someone for a while (specifically you since you’re my go to ao3 writer and I love your stuff) but why does it seem like not that many writers on ao3 made public bookmarks? if it’s a matter of privacy then I get that but otherwise I love seeing what my favorite writers read and liked so I easily stumble upon more great writing! I know you can’t answer for every writer on there obviously but thought I just word vomit and ask finally someone

This is a completely valid question and it’s honestly hard to answer because writers should get recognized, especially if you respect another writer enough to want to know what they’re reading.

My personal answer is this and it’s not valid but it’s what I got :

I read dirty nasty shit that I used to be ashamed of and I didnt want to air out my sinful kinks to the world.

When I first started writing, I got a lot of strange messages from people who were closed minded and picked at little comments I made here and there and it made me really conscious of what I put out into the world. I even have a secret side blog where I reblog shippy art that I won’t post here because there’s a whole lot of toxic discourse that I don’t want to get involved in and some of the things and I’ve been afraid that, that same discourse might circle back to me for what I read (if it hasn’t already come to me through what I’ve written smh) and I was afraid that if someone were to look at what I’ve been reading, someone would go “ohhh, they’re into that? Wack.” since then, I’ve gotten over that, pero I haven’t broken the habit of keeping my bookmarks private because it became a private thing to me. Also, I don’t have many things bookmarked because I’m a disorganized trash baby that loses good works often because I forgot to book mark (seriously I think I might have ten things bookmarked and I’ve had my ao3 for maybe a year???) I also tend to be a secretive “this is personal” kind of person.

Another reason for other writers who might do this: competition. I am very very guilty of being a jealous, protective, and competitive writer in the past and though I am currently getting over that, I’m sure other writers might have the same thought process that I once had. I have actually seen other writers who have said or been mean to different writers because of the attention they were or were not getting tbqh, even though most of the people I interact with are wholesome and sweet beans, there are some snakelike people that don’t want other writers to get recognition which is a bullshit mindset but sometimes it is hard to ignore when one isn’t confident enough in their skill. For a long a time, I was so insecure that I didn’t read any BNHA fan fic because I would find myself comparing my work to others which is not a healthy thing to do in the slightest because we are all going at our own pace and whatnot... Did I stay on topic? Probably not but it’s fine, I’m drunk.

It’s easy to forget that one writer isn’t better than the other. We gotta remember the “two cakes” rule.

I hope this was a good enoug answer that my wack ass brain didn’t just cook up. I hope you could follow it and I hope you don’t judge me too much for being honest 😅😅😅

[tessatechaitea]

Team Titans #20

Is it sexist to point out cameltoe?

It's been about two weeks since I read a Team Titans comic book so I can't remember what was happening, which is probably a good thing. It's nice to see that my brain apparently has some kind of organic Roomba that cleans up after I've soiled my mind with terrible media choices. Revamping my old Patreon page has kept me away from re-reading terrible old comic books. If you enjoy my take on comic books perhaps you'll enjoy my take on The Bible? Or if you don't like reading astoundingly insightful and probably pretty funny commentary on The Bible if it costs you as little as one dollar per month, you can still bookmark the site because you'll get three free song reviews each week too! But if you want me to review a particular song, you'll have to give me money. I don't give my wisdom away for free! I mean, I do! But only in certain circumstances. I think what was happening in this comic book was a right-wing corporate and media conglomerate asshole (much like Rupert Murdoch) was preparing to time travel into the future where he could take the place of Lord Chaos and rule the world. It's the kind of plan only an idiotic super villain in a comic book could come up with. Any real life super villain would think, "I have so much money and power right now in a world I recognize, why should I risk everything by traveling into an unknown future where my biggest enemies await? Better to just buy a private island in the present and look at porn all day." But for some reason, comic book super villains are never satisfied. They never think, "I could retire with the amount of money it's going to cost me to create this death satellite!" The always think, "Man, having lots of money really kills your ambition. Maybe I should use it to endanger my freedom and possibly my life?" Idiots!

Based on these silhouettes, one of Lord Murdoch's henchman is just a gigantic sentient penis.

The Team Titans leader for the future narrates the big battle so maybe we'll soon find out who the mysterious leader really is! I think I've been guessing Terry Long throughout most of this re-read because who else could it be? Unless Terry's kid has one of those comic book experiences that ages him quickly, he probably won't be leading the team as a nine year old. Although I can't think why I'm ruling that out when I easily accepted Nightwing once driving a motorcycle straight up a skyscraper and Starfire falling in love with Wolfman-written Nightwing. A few pages into the battle, a bunch of Team Titans members (not from the titular and most important team!) begin to die. First killed is Gunsmoke. You might not remember Gunsmoke because Gunsmoke was a terrible name and Gunsmoke never did anything except help provide some context on the plot. We learned from Gunsmoke that the Team Titans were spread out all across history because the Team Titans leader created a truly inept time machine. Gunsmoke's last words (aside from "Arrrggghhhhh!") are "Great. Don't tell me y'all saved my butt in the Old West just so I can get it kicked in 1994." I guess in 1994, creating a character that's simply a guy dressed like a cowboy didn't cut the editor's mustard. The second character to die is Monsieur Poniard of Judge and Jury. He should thank his terrible name for cutting his comic book career short. "Mister Dagger," even in French, just isn't going to inspire the kind of terror that a super villain should inspire. And, yes, I'm aware of how many terribly mundane and crappy names exist within the DC Universe! I'm just saying, "One less is a good start." The third Team Titan to die is a nameless Titan in the background of Monsieur Poniard's death. She (or he) has orange hair and wears a purple costume so I think we can all agree why he (or she) had to die. You know, because Starfire already had claims on that terrible color combination. After Lazarium (Lord Murdoch's super villain name) takes down the main Team Titans in one blast, he jokes, "I love the smell of ozone in the morning." I know that's supposed to be a joke because he says, "Heh heh," immediately after. Earlier, Blue (unless it was Green or Purple or Yellow. Remember, the colorist of this current story arc is an idiot) quipped, "Yeah, and monkeys might fly outta my -- OOOOF!" So we have all the evidence we need that Jeff Jensen's main writing crutch is movie and television quotes. The fourth Team Titans to die is Two Gallon Hat.

I often come up with characters for my stories that I know are stupid but I insert them into it anyway simply so that other characters can call them stupid.

While all of the other Titans from throughout history are being slaughtered by Lazarium's henchmen (where did he get henchmen who put such effort into henchmanning?! I bet he pays a living wage, offers great health care choices, and provides a hefty pension), Mirage remains stuck in traffic on the streets below.

If only Mirage could easily do something to keep from being recognized!

I don't know what she did with Deathwing but I hope it involved a hedge clipper and a blender. Mirage steps out of the cab to find Cokie Walters staring at the corpse of Two Gallon Hat. Cokie apologizes for some reason which leads to Mirage threatening Cokie if she doesn't help Mirage save the Titans. Now how the hell is a bubble gum gossip reporter supposed to help with that?! "Mister Lazarium! Mister Lazarium! Is it true you pee through the gate instead of over the fence?!" Realizing that the Titans have met their match, Terra resorts to pleading her case: "Lazarium! No! Please — you can't just kill us like this!" Lazarium, who is a super villain who has really thought out his plan and understands the power of a truly great one-liner, replies smartly: "Oh, yes, I can, Terra — especially you!" I just got goosebumps reading that! Although after the Wayne's World and Apocalypse Now lines from earlier, maybe Jensen stole this retort from a movie too. Wasn't this the great line from the end of Die Hard 2: Dying Ain't My Thing when Bruce Willis sets the airplane fuel alight? Five hundred and thirty Titans got there asses handed to them by Lazarium and his goons. But not to worry because Prester Jon, Redwing, Battalion, Donna Troy, and just-out-of-a-coma Nightrider have arrived to save the day! And don't think they're going to do it silently! Battalion has a new battle cry that I can't believe didn't catch on with the youth of 1994.

How was this not one of the best selling DC posters of 1994?

Battalion goes down in one shot. Most of the characters will probably go down in one shot because Killowat will probably need to prove himself. Will saving the world from Lazarium be enough to make Mirage forget he's a racist jerk? Hopefully not! The first person to nearly put Lazarium down is called Liquid Joe. Being that he's called Liquid Joe, you know he's not going to wind up being the hero. His blast of slime doesn't even faze Lazarium. Time for Cokie and Mirage to save Killowat so Killowat can save the day! Cokie knows where Killowat has been restrained because she's a tabloid journalist. This was the era where we all believed Geraldo was going to discover the secret of the universe. Now we know Geraldo's only goal was to uplift Geraldo. That fucker will say anything for praise and a paycheck. I suppose you can say that about anybody who appears on Fox News though. After losing dozens of Titans, I have to admit that my plan would be to give Lazarium the time travel device so we could be rid of him. If he time travels into the future, he's not our problem anymore! Heck, he probably won't ever be our problem! The future no longer contains Lord Chaos so who knows what he's going to find in 2001. If in 1994 I were told that 2001 would be the beginning of some truly inspiring xenophobic bullshit masquerading as patriotism, I would have been all, "Yeah, I can buy that." Maybe that wasn't a good example. Killowat defeats all of Lazarium's henchmen with one push of a button. Then he goes after Lazarium. Lazarium believes he'll win for the same reason all bad guys (and Deathstork (who is a bad guy but sometimes people begin to think maybe he's a good guy who was never actually convicted of statutory rape so is it really rape? (Yes. The answer is yes. I'm answering on behalf of a large percentage of male Americans who would get the answer to this question wrong))) believe they'll win.

Technically it's not rape if you say, "Here! Take it!" I'm just judging by American legal standards which have an even lower bar than that to declare something isn't rape.

Killowat gives Lazarium a bunch of his power which causes Lazarium to overload and explode into a smoking scorch mark on the roof. But we can't believe Killowat has just killed somebody (even though his name depends on the idea that he kills) so he makes sure to think, "The overload couldn't have killed him. His corporeal form must be around here somewhere." Well, wherever Lazarium went, it's clear that this story is winding down, so he's technically defeated. But he would have been back if this comic book hadn't been cancelled in a few more issues! Oh wait! He's back a few pages later so Nightrider can feast on his blood. Now nobody has to worry about Lazarium anymore and nobody cares if Dagon murdered him because what's a vampire supposed to do? Not eat people?! Anyway, the time machine simply opens a black hole in the sky which consumes hundreds of the poorly named Team Titans. Preser Jon shuts it down and now the Titans have to deal with being part of 1994 forever. I mean, at least until the end of the year when they'll have to deal with being a part of 1995 forever. Or for a year, anyway. The final page of this issue reveals the leader and it's definitely not the leader anybody working on this comic book had planned it to be. Instead, it's Monarch because — guess what, motherfuckers?! — it's Zero Hour time! Team Titans #20 Rating: A-. I'm only giving it a high grade because this issue was the start of Zero Hour. Not that Zero Hour isn't a completely flawed premise that was just another gimmick to allow DC's editors to fix shit that the fangenders kept haranguing them on. But it is interesting that this terrible little Titans off-shoot comic book is where DC decided to begin the entire Zero Hour premise. My other favorite part of this is how we find out that Monarch is the Leader. My supposition is that Zero Hour was thought up long after The Leader was already a mysterious presence in this book. I'm sure the writers and editors of this book had an idea about who The Leader should be. Maybe it was Dick Grayson, or Terry Long, or Starfire, or a reintegrated Danny Chase. But it certainly wasn't Monarch which meant they changed the goal line as the story proceeded. Which is a microcosm of what happens during the Zero Hour event! It was obvious throughout much of Zero Hour that Captain Atom was going to wind up being Monarch. But since so many fans had guessed it and expected it, DC decided that instead of continuing with a plot and character arc that made sense, they would simply reveal that Monarch was Hawk. Sure, it was a surprise! But it didn't make any fucking sense. Fucking comic books!

[pyxiscetus]

Hey! So I was going to do this for the FanFic Writers Appreciation Day on the 21st but… I got sidetracked with school and math hw that I haven’t touched in 8+ yrs so yeah!

These are my personal favorite fics! The ones that I’ve bookmarked (Ao3) or added to my favorites (FFnet). These don’t include ones on my subscribe list… I might make a separate post for those????

Everything will be under the cut because it’s a long ass list... I’ve added the tumblrs of the authors I follow, if one of these stories are yours let me know and I’ll add your tumblr too!

Most will redirect to Ao3, but there are a few FFnet only ones, and some that I never crosschecked to see if they were on Ao3...

Feel free to reblog and add your favs too! Show the writers the love they deserve y’all!

G - T rated

I never knew you could hold moonlight in your hand ‘til the night I held you by bechloehuh/eliseboobman @chloebeale​

Two Years On by when_you_know_you_know @asweetmelodytrickling​ - Alternate PP3, written before the trailer was released. Friends to Lovers. SHE HAS A LOT OF WORKS GO READ THEM ALL!!!

Experimentation by Redlance @redlance​ - It’s a slowburn, technically a FWB situation, with all the feels. The discoveries and communication is so well done (I’m pretty sure this was the fic I was reading when I had my “OH SHIT… I’m not straight” moment…)

She is the flint that sparks the lighter by iPhone @isthemusictoblame​  - Expect angst. And pining. (All of her stories are great! She even has an amnesia AU! remember the day (’cause this is what dreams should be) but I haven’t finished it yet...)

Red Rocket by soundoftheunderground - Short Fallout 4 AU

Life is Perfect by lunargrrrl - Life is Strange AU that is super Slow burn. I know nothing of the game but the story is good.

ERASED by HypersomnicaGrad - Murder, mystery, and Time Travel. I think this is based off an Anime? Either way it’s a really GREAT read

Paranormal Aca-tivity by RubbishRobots - It’s a Ghostbusters AU

This love ain’t enough to leave you by lismicro - Grey Hound Bus AU

In the middle of my chaos, there was you by themetgayla - Asexual Beca! As an ace I really like seeing ace characters too!

Maybe I matter (because I knew you) by NoGood_InGoodbye - AU set during PP1

(Accidentally) Taking Aim by novel_concept26 - One-shot

Irresistible force, a paradox by sam_kom_trashkru - Youtuber AU, one-shot

Your Love is a Song by HypersomniacGrad - PP1 rewrite, Luke is the cool step-brother

Not rated - I can’t guarantee that these don’t have smut/graphic things

We Meet Again by lilredwiththehood - A post-PP2 story

The Greater Share of Honor by Wheresthemuse - SPACE AU!!! A completely different one from the other and I REALLY LIKE IT!!! It’s got aliens and fight scenes and missing people and military conspiracies!!!!

The Storm Before the Calm by recallthelove - Another bookmarked series, sequel is on hiatus though.

Mutual Affections by TheGrimLlama - Tumblr AU one-shot

M – E rated

A Dream That’s Barely Half Awake by annebar76 - Now this is incomplete and probably won’t ever be finished… BUT it’s such a well written Bechloe fic that I had to include it.

When The Light’s All Faded by thatmitchsentho @thatmitchsentho - SINGLE PARENT AU!!! I’m a sucker for kids…. And this is such a great     story. 

Finding Harmony by aliciameade @aliciameade​​  - This is a rewrite starting from PP2 and it has everything you could want in a fic.

And I Opened Up My Eyes, I Saw The Sign by dandelion3455 

Presque Vu by     thetoneofsurprise @gwen-stacies​​ - AMNESIA AU!!!! Idk what it is about amnesia but I’m a fucking sucker for it… Like literally I read SuperCorp because of an amnesia AU, I don’t even watch Supergirl… Also, angst… and Slow burn. 

Raise the Bar by justtheonce

The Bond of Friendship or Something by sburch13

 Faces by 1lifeisbechloe - THIS STORY! I never see it rec’d and honestly IDK why?! Yes it’s 2nd POV but really? That just adds to it… ENEMIES TO LOVERS YO! THAT STARTS AS A FWB?! Or would it be Enemies With Benefits? EITHER WAY! It’s great AND HAS A SEQUEL! That is in progress. 

I Love You, Awesome Nerd by Olivia_Janae - Oblivious Chloe trying to help Beca fix her life. WITH A COMPLETED SEQUEL.

Perdition by morningsound15 @morningsound15​ - PER-FUCKING-DITION!!!!!! THIS STORY WILL CRUSH YOUR GODDAMNED SOUL!!!!!!! It hurts so much and yet it has a magnificent ending and there’s a prompt story that’s ongoing with based off different scenes that aren’t in the actual story and THERE’S A SEQUEL COMING!!!!! This is a CHEATING FIC! So if that’s a problem don’t read it!

Barden Preparatory Academy by swanqueenfic13 - Boarding School AU, deals with school bullies/homophobia they are under 18 in this fic with smut, fyi if that’s a concern.

Something About December by awesomenerd16  - Mutual pining! At Christmas time

All’s Fair in Love and War by homosexy - SPACE AU! Incomplete but it’s got really great worldbuilding.

Something like love by captainsabs - Single Parents AU. The sass that boy has is life.

2000 Miles by OmACAgee - LDR AU that really showcases what a long distance relationship can be.

Favorite Record by bechloehuh/eliseboobman @chloebeale​ - Road Trip AU! (Yes I did put Cole on my list twice because his stuff is just that good and he deserves the love.)

Bigger Than Us, Beyond Bliss by CherishMimi - BDSM, incomplete, really well done.

This Love by BrevityIsTheSoulOfLingerie - I have it bookmarked by the  series… IS GOOD

Whoever Fights Monsters by getpitchslapped @revengeparty​ - FBI/Police AU hunting a serial killer. One of my favorites!

Stone Hard as Bulletproof Glass by inkstainedpinky - Famous AU, kinda

I See The Light (Shining On Me) by Melissa7178

Way Too Good At Goodbyes by idontknowmaybe - Chloe is Famous, Beca’s a Private Chef

Burn by idontknowmaybe - Fire fighter AU

La Douleur Exquise by redchocopanda - Bodyswap AU

The Friend by Secret Heart33 - Childhood Friends AU that is so angsty it hurts, and god the slow burn on this… It’s listed as complete though it is missing the epilogue and at one point the author was talking about doing a companion fic from Chloe’s POV. THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES!!!!

[gingerstorm101]

Day at the Beach

“Are we there yet?”

Sammie’s voice came from the back seat of the car, still too young to sit in the front seat with her brother. “No.” Jackson says from the driver’s seat, his eyes meeting hers in the rear view mirror. “Not yet, another fifteen minutes or so.”

“Why did we have to go to the farthest beach from home? Widewater Beach is closer and we’ve been there a thousand times.” The little girl says, placing her bookmark in her novel.

The man smirks. “Exactly, it’s time for a change in scenery.” He pauses, now serious. ” We need a few days to make new memories. By getting out of the house and to Virginia Beach, we will do just that.”

Sammie sighs, throwing her head back. “Fine. I don’t see how having fun without Mom and Dad is going to make this day any better.”

“They need their rest, Sammie.”

Jackson glances back from the road to his much younger sister, watching as she rolls her head to look out the window. With their parents having her at such an late stage in their lives, Dana and Mulder couldn’t keep up with the energetic seven years old. Last week, their mother had suggested that Jackson take his sister out for the day to give the two some time to rest and catch up on sleep. Sibling bonding time was just a bonus.

Waking them up at 5 this morning, waking the girl up and getting her ready didn’t help all that much.

“Are we there yet?”

He smirks.

***

“Okay sis, do you want to get changed first or eat-” His sentence was interrupted by the seven year old running past him towards the water.

“You can’t catch me!” He scoffs and closes the door before sprinting after her. The chase didn’t last long. With his height giving him the extra mileage, he caught up fast. She laughs as he catches up to her, chancing a look behind her as his large steps were nearly on her. Next thing she knows, he’s swooping her up into his arms. Her squeals fills the air. “No!” He swings her over his shoulder, spinning around once before heading back to the car.

“Now, what was I saying?” He chuckles.

“Something about eating.” She giggles, kicking her feet as she swings back and forth.

“Do you want to eat before we go swimming? We have been in the car all day long as I heard you complaining the entire way here.” He dodges her wild feet.

She doesn’t answer him until she is swung around and back on her feet in front of the car. “Let’s get some food, I’m starved!”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Yours for not stopping at Wawa’s this morning.”

“I told you to eat breakfast this morning.”

“At 6am? Not a chance!” Sammie shot back, her hands on her hips.

Jackson takes a moment to look over his baby sister. He sees Dana so much in the little girl.  Mulder was in there too, but as Dana had mentioned many times, he was the one who got most of his father’s genetics, especially in looks. Still, the little redhead shares his stubbornness as well as many other traits.

Grabbing his swim suit and handing Sammie hers, he directs the girl towards the changing stalls. “I’ll meet you out here, then we can get some chow.”

“Ok dude!”

“Nothing too big! It’s only 9. We would have been here sooner if it wasn’t for the traffic.”

“You know, Jackson, most restaurants don’t open until 11.”

“Then maybe we can find a cafe somewhere around here.” He replies. The girl sticks out her tongue at her brother before walking into the girls’ room to change as he walks into the mens’ room.

He took his time getting changed but ends up waiting for her anyway.  Moments pass before she walks out, ready for a day at the beach in her swimsuit, cover up, sunglasses, and floppy hat.

“You ready?”

***

“Better now?”

Sammie nodded, munching happily on her bagel and peach juice. “For now.” She girl smirks up at him. “Until lunch.” She adds, walking beside her brother as they head to the car. Together they pull out the the beach equipement and towels, the girl carrying as little as possible. “Do you think they’re awake?” She asks, her arms full of the towels and the bag of beach toys as they step onto the hot sand.

Jackson doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, but that doesn’t give you permission to harass them. We took this day to give them a break; you texting them will not help with that.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, almost tripping over a large stick. “No fair, why did they have to be so old when they had me?”

The man swallows hard. How could he explain to his baby sister that he was the reason his mother became pregnant with her? He experimented on unfertilized chicken eggs as a teen, creating life. His shared visions with the woman had told him that she had wanted another child, especially after giving up her first. From that moment he had drained his powers to give her what wanted: a baby to raise. If only he had been able to do such a thing a long time ago, when Dana and Mulder were so much younger, where Sammie didn’t have to wait patiently for her parents to catch up. But he was just a child at the time, he never knew.

“I don’t know Sammie, thing just work that way.” If his hands weren’t so full, he would pull the girl into a hug. “But I’m happy to have you, you’re the only sibling I ever had, and probably ever will have.”

Their eyes meet and Sammie smiles toothly up at him. “I’m happy I have you too, big brother. Even if you’re always working.”

They chose their spot in the sand, not too far away from the water’s edge but not in the middle of the crowd. Jackson set up the umbrella and chairs while Sammie places her supplies on her chair. With their area set up, the girl steps out of her flip flops and runs into the water.

“Sammie!” He calls, taking his phone out of his pocket and hiding it among their gear. He watches as she plays around the edge of the water, not going in deep. He takes a minute to make sure everything is safe before he heads after her. “Don’t go running off like that!” He says to her when he finally catches up, his toes cold at the touch of the water. “Didn’t mom ever tell you to not go running into the water without an adult with you?”

“Well yeah,” She says knowingly. “But I knew you were going to be right behind me.”

Seven, He sighs to himself. The know-it-all age; can she get any more sassy?

***

“Get it! Get it!” Jackson calls from a few metres away, watching as the volleyball lands out of her reach. “Almost!”

“I’m not as tall as you are!” The young girl shouts back, half swimming to the white ball. “You have a better chance of getting the ball than me!” She grabs it and hits it back towards the man. The ball falls out of reach for Jackson, which he suspects is purposeful. He centers his energy and pushes his body through the water, closer to the ball. “Hey! No cheating!”

He hits it back to her, missaiming and having it fall to her right, only a few feet out of her reach. His jaw drops as he watches her dive for it. Before him, she flies five feet through the water, reaching the ball just in time, hitting it and tossing it back to him. Too in shock, he lets the ball land in the water beside him.

“Sammie! Did you just do what I think you did?”

She just stares at him, not moving from her spot in the water. “You mean, I did that?” He nods in return, grabbing the ball and wades towards her. He has to talk to her in private.

Practically hovering over her, he bends down to whisper in her ear. “You did.” He pauses, watching the wonder grow on her face. “How long have things been… different?”

She shrugs. “A while I guess.” She doesn’t meet his eye. “I didn’t want to worry Mama and Daddy.” He sighs, looking down at her, trying to catch her eye, after a moment, he does. “I didn’t want them to think I was an experiment like you.” Her eyes shift. He grabs hold of her hand and pulls her towards the beach.

“We aren’t here to talk about me, Samantha.” She glares at him, offended at her full name. He pulls his chair up in front of hers, having her sit down in her seat. “Sammie, they would want to keep you safe. I want to keep you safe. You should have mentioned this to us sooner.”

She sits back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. “I know, Jackson.” She was silent for a few minutes, though it felt like longer. “When did you first start showing your powers?” She finally asks.

Jackson hmm’d and ha’d for a moment before he finally answers. “Dana says I was only nine months old when I first started to move my mobile. But from my memory? For as long as I can remember.”

Sammie was about to say something else when a strange woman came up to them. “Excuse me sweetheart, but is this man bothering you?”

She was in too much of a shock to say anything, her mouth gaping open. Jackson butt in instead. “Excuse me, we are having a private conversation.”

The words from the woman shocks the both of them. “Shut it sicko, I wasn’t talking to you.” Sammie looks back and forth between the determined expression of the woman and and the shock on her brother’s. “I saw you talking to this little girl in the water and dragging her out.” She turns to the little girl. “Are you alright? Where are your mommy and daddy?”

Jackson could tell that Sammie has had enough of this crazy woman. Her expression hardens. “Mama and Daddy are at home. My big brother Jackson brought me to the beach so they could rest.”

The woman’s mouth gaps open. “Big brother?”

“Yeah,” He finally jumps in. “Big brother. Ever heard of a bonus child? Same parents, many years apart. Large age gap.”

“Very large age gap.” Sammie inputs, smiling at him.

The woman steps back. “Oh, I-I’m sorry. I just thought you were another creep going after an innocent little girl.” She pauses. “You know, you don’t look anything alike.”

Jackson smirks. “We know. Now, if you please, my sister and I were have a private conversation, and we don’t want anyone intruding.”

“Ye-yes, sorry.” She stumbles on her feet. “Sorry.” And with that, she is gone.

“Y’know, Jackson.” Sammie smirks back up at him. “You didn’t have to scare her like that.”

“She accused me me of being a pedophile!”

“You did grab me.”

The laugh escaping her lips was infectious and he couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t wait to tell their parents.

***

Jackson delivers their meal to their spot on the beach. When he returns, Sammie is starting a sand castle in front of their beach chairs. “Lunch!”

The girl looks up to him, a smile plastered on her face. “Finally! What took so long?” She got up, brushing the sand off of her hands, doing her best to get every grain of sand off.

“Well, excuse me. It’s not my fault that everyone on the beach is currently at the same restaurant, getting the exact same thing.” Sitting in his chair, he hands the hot dog meal over to his little sister. “Don’t tell Dana I fed you this, she just might kill me.” Sammie snorts before giggling.

“Probably.” She says before she takes a big bite of her lunch.

Jackson watches his sister before he takes a bite of his own fries, this was definitely a good day.

When she finishes her lunch ten minutes later, she gives him her sneaky grin and takes off toward the waves again. Jackson sighs, downs the rest of his fries easily, and chases after her. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

---

A great big thanks to @dana-katherine-sculder for being my wonderful co-writer and for dressing Sammie in such adorable clothing! It was suppose to be a short little drabble, but 5 pages is way past that. XD I hope you enjoyed this!

[trojanjean]

questions for ao3 writers

tagged by @meimagino, thank you dsgsfa !! <3 <3 

Tagging: @kumikirin and @rayraywrites ! i don’t actually know a lot of ao3 writers SO PLEASE DO THIS AND TAG ME? <3 i’ve LOVED reading other people doing this tag and it’s so exciting to know more abt your stuff so please please if u use ao3 and wanna do this, please let me know! <3

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

my username is seaworn. i didn’t want my ao3 username to be the same as my tumblr url because my tumblr url is pretty much always associated with a certain fandom and i didn’t want that because i had a feeling that i’m going to write something for different fandoms. seaworn is a word i came across in one of nightwish’s lyrics, “sea-worn driftwood”. i just thought that was nice, and everything sea-related is really close to my heart. 

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos)

fingers crossed my obsession with you is tameable has most hits, kudos and bookmarks, but my heart’s a stereo (it beats for you so listen close) has most subscriptions (because it’s an ongoing series).

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

it’s a picture of some random boy who i think looks a lot like my favourite trainwreck boy harry and i wanted it lmao 

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

 i get really warm and giddy if someone i know comments something on my fics because it means the world to me that my friends read my shit asdgdfs. but i also get warm and giddy and excited when i get any kinds of comments!! <3 i appreciate every single comment i get and i sometimes cry when i get an email notification about a comment someone left me asfsg <3 i notice a few “regulars” that always comment of my stories when i publish something new and i LOVE them and it means the world to me that someone has subscribed to me/checks out my page to see whether i’ve published smth new. but i ALSO love people who just leave kudos bc seeing that someone has actually read my stuff? amazing. i love every single one of you so much. i go through my comments and my kudos/hits whenever i’m feeling down/insecure and they give me so much confidence and make me feel better about everything

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

oh yeah, i have plenty!! i mean, i have over 500 bookmarks and i go through them a lot to read many of my old favourites. i’m going to list a few i could remember without actually browsing through my bookmarks! :) they’re mostly drarry because i’m super into that again. also i really wanna scream about all of these but i’m just gonna link them and let them speak for themselves sdgdfsg 

Twingenuity by Caeseria. Viktuuri, explicit, 160k. summary: “Victor arrives in Hasetsu, completely unaware that Yuuri has an identical, overly affectionate, twin brother. The resulting temptation might actually kill him before he gets Yuuri to the GPF like he promised.”

Coffee, Cakes And Doorknob Snakes by Omi_Ohmy. drarry, explicit, 40k. summary: “Harry's house is trying to kill him, and only one person can help him: pity it's Draco Malfoy”

Eternally Consistent by kitsunealyc. drarry, explicit, 40k. summary: “Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.”

Reparations by Saras_Girl. drarry, explicit, 87k. summary: “Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.”

Winter Song by proantagonist. viktuuri, explicit, 149k. summary: “The set of Yuuri’s mouth softened into a private smile as Victor squeezed his knee beneath the table. His hands were bare, free from the gloves he so often wore when they were together on the rink, and the heat of his palm burned straight through the denim of Yuuri’s jeans. He slipped his own hand beneath the table and found Victor’s. Hidden from sight, their fingers began to flirt and play. A secret conversation all their own that needed no words.

Yuuri was aware that at some point—a moment in time he couldn’t quite place—Victor had become his boyfriend.

There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness, as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.”

i’d love to link everything i like but aSFASD!! just believe me when i say that with 500 bookmarks and having lots of writer friends in tumblr, i read a LOT of the same fics over and over and over again. the ones i mentioned just now are all longer stories i fell in love with because it took me days and maybe even weeks to read them and it’s like i’d found a whole new universe?? you can def ask me for fic recs because all i do is read fics but i found it really hard to just pick a few so i decided to pick just a few longer ones for this question!! but ask me for my favourite coffee shop aus? do it. favourit otayuri fics? ya please. fav modern au captive prince fics? you really should. 

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

i can’t see the number of my subscriptions anywhere? but i get maybe 3-10 email notifications every day about an updated work so i guess it’s a lot. i have a little over 500 bookmarks! :)) 

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

hmm, i maybe haven’t written enough to have, like, a special au i enjoy writing? but i DO think about coffee shop au’s and writing them a lot so i guess it’s that asfdsf. i just really really love coffee shops?? 

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

274 subscriptions and 704 bookmarks holy sHIT hey i love every single one of you?? 

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

i have a bunch of really, really sad and depressing headcanons i would love to write but i’m probably never gonna? like, lots of things about eating disorders and cutting and someone getting injured or cheated on, someone losing an important person or having to give up on their dreams, etc. lots of sad characters trying to be brave on their own and slowly fading away :’’)) i don’t want to write then because i haven’t come up with any good endings for those and i DON’T want to write stuff with no happy ending, so. i just really think i need to get out all kinds of crap rn and writing them would make me feel better but i think i’m too involved to actually write something worth reading? i fear that if i wrote smth i’ve headcanoned, it would end up being super immature and illogical. idk. my point it that i’m afraid to write really self-indulgent, depressing angst sadgsghdf 

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

i would love to be a little more consistent in writing. my concentration is bad and often i can’t get into the flow when i’m working on something. usually i add something to a wip every few days, then one day i write 1000 words and then continue editing sentences here and there, jumping from scene to scene, deleting smth and then adding 57 words. like...i often feel like i can’t get into the scene i’m writing and it feels like i’m watching it on the outside instead of being the writer? whenever i can focus properly i get solid, consistent, meaningful writing done, but honestly 80% of me doing anything is messing around and i have to do A LOT of damage control before everything is finished? 

this is related to what i just described but i’d also love to be able to write chronologically because i feel it makes the story and the journey more real when i’m actually working through what my characters are feeling/experiencing throughout the story? instead of writing an exciting plot thing A and an exciting plot thing number B and then later writing the boring parts inbetween. 

i have a lot of problems with plots in general - i feel it’s easier for me to write 2 k about, like, yuuri making tea in the morning, than writing 2k about someone walking to the store and buying milk. i’m better at describing moments and feelings than concrete plot points or someone dojng something? idk. 

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

popular ships. i mean, i might read rarepairs but i usually have one or two otp’s from each fandom i write about. i’d love to write about chrisabek one day though sgdfg. 

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

18 ???? what how when has this happened?? .  13 of those are yoi and the rest either drarry or johnlock. 

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

18 published works and about....25-30 unfinished things? some over 10k words, some less than 500. also but i wrote A LOT of original shit when i was like 16-18 so if i count those in the number would be about 100 probably

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

i write them down potential ideas, but i have a lot of headcanons i don’t write down because i don’t think i have the ability to write them. but most of my ideas go to google docs/notes. 

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

yeah, i actually have one wip going on with someone :) it’s unfinished but maybe we’ll finish it one day? it’s drarry and super sweet. 

16. How did you discover AO3?

i really can’t remember? i wish i could? but it probably in 2012 when i got into the sherlock fandom. 

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

i don’t think so omg, but i’m really glad people read my stuff! but i’m definitely more known in the yoi fandom than the others i’m in bc my drarry/johnlock fics get like 5 comments, max, whereas i can get 20 comments to my yuri on ice stuff! :) it’s really nice that people read my stuff fhdh 

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

omfg no but everyone who reads my stuff is an actual Angel  

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

yeah, a lot! a lot of original fiction authors & a lot of fanfiction authors! whenever i read a good text i’m like “wow, this is awesome, i wish i could write this well” and that always gives me a huge boost. the support of my friends is really encouraging and inspiring, too. 

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

the “i will be a stronger writer after i finish this piece” is REALLY good advice, because...not everything you write will be the best you’ve done and you maybe feel like your writing has some flaws or something. but you know what? even if it’s not perfect, you’re a lot more experienced writer when you’ve done it. i do the “it’s gonna be shit anyway so i’m not gonna write it” thing quite often but then i have to remind myself that every single word i write gets me closer to being better, so i plunder through. and when i get finished with something, i usually think “well, this is not my strongest work but i’m glad i did it” and!!!! that’s really it!! i took part in otayuri reverse bang this spring and god i wanted to give up so so many times and i wrote lots of plots for it because i didn’t like ANYTHING i did. but i got through it, and while i think that the two stories i did for it are the worst i’ve written, it’s still 18 000 words more than i would have written if i hadn’t participated :) be your own biggest supporter & give yourself time to practise & be super proud and happy about what you’ve achieved so far!! <3 you wrote 10 words today? THAT’S 10 WORDS MORE THAN IT WAS BEFORE. you had a huge writer’s block so instead of writing you just wrote down some plot point you wanna write later? YOU PLANNED SOMETHING. you couldn’t even plan, you just opened your computer and gave up? YOU TRIED AND RESPECTED YOUR LIMITS TODAY AND THAT’S AMAZING. 

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

i usually plan big plot points but figure everything else out as i go? planning in actually one of my weaknesses and instead of making a plan and sticking to it, i just wait for inspiration and get as much done as i can before it goes away, lol. 

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

not really :) everyone has been really sweet to me. 

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

action scenes are pretty hard? i think i’m better at writing dialogue and feelings than action or something dramatic happening. i’m working on it and i would love to get more edge to my writing! 

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

i’m finishing the last part of my heart’s a radio (it beats for you so listen close). the chapter is what i intended to write in the first place (yuri and otabek seeing each other at world’s and getting it on in a hotel room) but then i just....needed to have 14 000 words of stuff before it, apparently. 

i’m also working on a drarry fic that has been in my drafts for a long time. it’s about 8k and i think it’s going to be 10-13k, and that’s fine. it’s all about margaritas and blowjobs and being hungover, basically. it’s really fun to write lol.

and then i have this captive prince smut one shot that’s also like half-done. it’s really fluffy and sappy but still just smut. 

aaaaalso i’m trying to finish the next chapter for my viktuuri dog sitter au fic now my heart stumbles on things i don’t know ! i’ve been procrastinating because i don’t really have a plot for it planned yet. 

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

i have too many ideas in my head constantly and that makes it reaally hard to focus on finishing something before jumping onto something else. that’s why i have tons of wips and no finished works, lmao. 

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

not really. sometimes i try to push myself by setting goals, but in the end it really stresses me out because i’m usually away from home at least 9 hours every day and my work is really physical and tiring so asfsgas i really don’t have the strength to write every day. now my goal is to finish three fics before the year ends. they’re all oneshots that are maybe 80% done, so i should be able to do it. 

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

i hope so but i really don’t know?? 

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

hmm. it’se been really fun writing i am to see to it that i do not lose you series because i’ve gotten a LOT of positive feedback along the way! and i’m not done with the series - i have a chrisviktuuri smut oneshot planned in this universe, happening at the same time when yuri’s figuring out how to date™. it was the first part of the series that made me think that maybe people actually enjoy my stuff & that encouraged me to write more!

I also really liked writing a oneshot i hust posted yesterday - listen how, under the breastbone, the rhythm changes . i wrote my first yuri on ice fic about a year ago and i just really wanted to return to that moment and write smth sweet about viktor and yuuri. the story has no plot or anything, but it felt REALLY good to write bc i sort of want and need a lot of soft things right now! 

also i’m having SO MUCH FUN with the drarry fic i haven’t posted yet, omg. 

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

hmm. probably cautiously peering, absorbing, translating hey eve stop with the pretentious fic names  because it was basically my first multichapter fic and i feel like it fell apart a little? i had to write it in less than a month bc it was part of otayuri reversebang. i felt like the idea was good and that it didn’t reach its full potential? i have very mixed feelings about this fic. i haven’t been able to read it even once after i published it bc i’m so afraid of what i’ll find lmao 

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

hopefully my english is a lot better then, at least! i hope that i’ve started writing original fiction, really :) 

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

coming up with ideas!!! i don’t even use most of the ideas hat get in my head and i get lots of new ideas especially when i’m at work, out doing shopping, basically doing anything active??  but writing everything down, especially ideas you know will get 20-30k long once you start...damn. 

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

managing long stories? i haven’t written very many longer (like, over 10k?) stories and dgsgsg it’s just hard to make the plot interesting with lots of interesting cliffhangers, sad parts, etc? it’s hard to balance everything. 

and yeah writing just in general is hard because it’s at least 80% writer’s block but having ideas flood your head and making it hard to focus on real life sfsg

33. Why do you write?

to express myself, i think? i still haven’t learn how to process my more uglier emotions through writing (it would be really helpful if i could) but i’m definitely writing about the kind of things i miss and would like to have for myself - someone being really happy, having lots of quiet mornings, being loved, maybe being a trainwreck but having something to cope through it, having a special connection with someone. idk. all kinds of things.

writing is fun and actually writing down the fics you’d want to read is super duper cool. i don’t get very much done in my life otherwise, so writing gives me the feeling of accomplishment i’m not getting anywhere else. 

i’m not very good at expressing myself so writing definitely helps with that, too.