#freefall got pulled????

[pinkdean]

We're going back to our roots I've got a fic rec page again babeyyy

[goldfades]

i don't believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior; my mom says that she's worried, but i'm covered in this favor; and when we're getting dirty, i forget all that is wrong───PAIGE BUECKERS

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | she was the kind of girl who lit up rooms and wrecked worlds in the same breath—a gravity too intense to resist. you’d sworn off falling, but the first time she laughed, smoke curling from her lips like an invitation to a wildfire, you were already in freefall. between stolen touches and reckless nights, you wonder if paige is your salvation or your undoing—or maybe a bit of both.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | whoo, where do i begin? very angsty (but with a happy ending!), A LOT OF religious trauma, biblical allusions, descriptions of internalized homophobia, um... idk what else?

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | okay i wanna preface this by saying... this is NOT a realistic reflection of paige because i know she is religious (i am too) but for the sake of this fic, it's just not a direct correlation. ANYWAY, i got this fic request a couple hours ago and this has been in my drafts for a while, and it's for sailor song so i decided just to mix the two. but fair warning; this is VERY self-indulgent, like super... but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless!

It started with her laugh.

Low, sharp, intoxicating—like she knew something you didn’t, and the knowing was half the fun. The sound carried through the room, brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth behind that didn’t quite fade.

You hadn’t meant to look. It was a casual glance, a passive observation of the crowd gathered in the dim light of some off-campus house party. But there she was, Paige, head tilted back, blonde hair loose and gleaming like spun gold in the chaos of flashing lights. Beautiful didn’t quite cover it. She was an image that felt ripped straight from a psalm—crafted by hands too divine to belong to this earth.

You told yourself to look away. But it was like trying to pull your gaze from the altar during a prayer; you knew better, but you stayed. Her presence burned, the kind of flame you’d always been taught to fear. And yet, the yearning rose in you like a hymn.

She held a vape pen in one hand, her other resting lazily against the kitchen counter. When she brought it to her lips and exhaled, the plume of smoke rose like incense, curling toward the low ceiling. It wasn’t just a casual gesture—it was deliberate, a communion, and you felt the weight of her gaze as she caught you staring. Her eyes—blue like stained glass on a Sunday morning—locked with yours, and in that instant, you swore she saw straight through you. Every doubt. Every prayer you’d whispered to keep yourself in line.

Your chest tightened. It felt less like a chance meeting and more like a test. A temptation. You wanted to pass. You wanted to fail.

Her smirk formed slowly, a deliberate curve of her lips that made your breath catch. She waved the pen in a lazy arc, motioning you over. Something inside you—rebellion, recklessness, or maybe just exhaustion—told you to move. So you did.

Every step toward her felt like crossing a line you’d drawn for yourself long ago. The room blurred, fading into irrelevance as you neared. She was all you could see, every detail sharper and brighter than it had any right to be. Her hoodie hung loose on her frame, the strings unevenly tugged. Her nails, painted the softest blush, tapped rhythmically against the counter.

“You always stare like that?” she asked, voice low but cutting through the din around you. Her tone was casual, but her eyes… they were anything but. They pinned you in place, unrelenting.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you fumbled for an answer. “No. I mean—sorry, I wasn’t—”

“Relax.” She leaned in, close enough that you could smell the faint mix of mint and something sweeter. “I don’t bite.” A pause, her grin widening. “Not unless you want me to.”

Your laugh came out shaky, a poor attempt at deflecting the rising tension in your chest. “Do you always talk like this?”

“Only when I’m interested.” The words landed heavy, like a confession in a darkened booth. Paige tilted her head, studying you. “What’s your name?”

You told her, and the way she repeated it back made it sound different—softer, like she was testing the weight of it in her mouth. She offered her hand, the gesture disarmingly formal. When your fingers touched, the spark was immediate, electric. You wondered if she felt it too.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, her grip firm but unhurried, like she had all the time in the world to unravel you.

You didn’t have all the time in the world. That was the problem. Years of sermons and Bible studies echoed in your mind like a chorus of warnings. Narrow is the road, straight is the gate, and you were barreling down the wide, crooked path without a second thought.

“So,” Paige said, pulling you back to the present, “you drink, or are you just here for the vibes?”

“I don’t drink.” The answer came automatic, instinctive, a remnant of the rules you hadn’t yet shaken off. Paige arched an eyebrow, intrigued but not mocking.

“Interesting.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Guess I’ll have to figure out what your vice is.”

The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. You tried to speak, to say anything that would keep you grounded, but nothing came. All you could do was stand there, caught in the pull of her presence.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her vape from the counter and motioning for you to follow her. “Let’s get out of here. It’s too loud.”

You hesitated, the weight of invisible judgment pressing against you. But then she smiled—soft, earnest, utterly disarming—and the resistance crumbled. It felt wrong, undeniably so. But it also felt like freedom.

So you followed.

The night air hit you like a baptism, cool and sobering after the crowded haze of the party. Paige walked ahead of you, her hands shoved into her hoodie pockets, her steps unhurried. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure you were still there, flashing you a smile that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You kept a few paces behind, your mind a storm of contradictions. Everything about this felt dangerous, like stepping into a story you’d been warned against since you were a child. But there was something magnetic about her, something that made you ignore the small, insistent voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back. She moved like she owned the night, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe she did.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice a little too high, a little too thin.

“Someplace quiet,” she said, not turning around. “Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer.”

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”

She laughed, and it was soft this time, less sharp-edged than before. “Fair point. But I think you’re safe with me. Trust me?”

You didn’t answer, but the fact that you kept walking was its own reply. Paige led you down a winding street lined with trees, the leaves whispering in the breeze like they were in on some divine secret. You felt like a lamb being led away from the flock, the shepherd nowhere in sight. But instead of fear, all you felt was the thrill of it—the breaking of the rules, the stepping out of bounds.

Eventually, she stopped in front of a small park, deserted except for a few streetlights casting pale pools of light over the benches. She sat on one of them, her legs sprawled out casually, and gestured for you to join her.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before sitting, careful to leave a polite amount of space between you. Paige noticed and smirked, shifting slightly so your knees almost touched. The proximity made your pulse quicken.

“Relax,” she said, pulling the vape pen out of her pocket and twirling it between her fingers. “I don’t bite, remember?”

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff, unnatural. “Not unless I want you to, right?”

Paige’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Exactly. You’re catching on.” She brought the vape to her lips, taking a long drag before exhaling. The smoke curled lazily in the air, illuminated by the glow of the streetlight. She tilted her head, studying you. “So, what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah. You’re giving off… I don’t know. Saintly vibes.” Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity in her eyes. “Like you stepped out of some Catholic school choir.”

You stiffened, the words hitting closer to home than she could’ve known. “I… grew up religious.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Religious, huh? Like, church every Sunday, Bible verses on the fridge, all that?”

You nodded, a tightness creeping into your chest. “Pretty much.”

She leaned back, her expression unreadable. “And now?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t a question you liked answering, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself. “Now… I don’t know. I guess I’m figuring it out.”

Paige nodded slowly, her gaze softening. “That’s fair. Takes time to unlearn all that, right?”

The word unlearn felt heavy, like it carried a weight you weren’t ready to unpack. You looked down at your hands, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. “Something like that.”

For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Then Paige spoke, her voice quieter this time. “You know, I used to go to church too.”

Your head snapped up, surprise flickering across your face. “You did?”

She nodded, exhaling another plume of smoke. “Yeah. My grandma made me go. Every Sunday, no exceptions. I hated it back then. All the rules, all the guilt… it was suffocating.” She paused, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “But now, I don’t know. Sometimes I miss it.”

“Miss it?” The idea seemed foreign, almost impossible. “Why?”

Paige shrugged. “I guess… it was nice, believing in something bigger than yourself. Feeling like someone up there gave a damn about you.” She looked at you, her eyes searching. “You ever feel like that?”

You wanted to say no, wanted to deny it outright. But the truth was, you had felt that once. Before the doubts, before the questions, before the endless weight of trying to reconcile who you were with who you were supposed to be. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know.”

Paige nodded, as if she understood. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty damn interesting. Religious trauma and all.” She grinned, her teasing tone returning. “Maybe I’ll save you.”

The words hung in the air, light and joking, but they hit you harder than you cared to admit. You looked at her, the girl who seemed to embody everything you’d been taught to fear, and wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was right.

And that’s how this whole thing began—the beginning of the end.

It wasn’t a relationship, not exactly. It wasn’t even a proper friendship. You weren’t sure what to call it. Some blurry, undefined space where your worlds collided—recklessly, beautifully, disastrously. Paige would text you late at night, a simple you up? and before you even had time to think, you’d find yourself in her orbit again. Her dorm, a parked car, that same park bench. The locations changed, but the pattern didn’t.

She kissed like she had something to prove, like she knew exactly what you wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. And God, did you let her take it. Every time. Every brush of her lips, every tug at the edges of your carefully constructed world, it left you breathless. Empty. Full. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You told yourself it was just physical—nothing more than a release. But that was a lie, and you both knew it. Especially when she’d pull away and rest her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your cheek, her voice soft in the stillness.

“You okay?” she’d ask, her tone full of something that felt too much like care.

You’d nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Fine. That was another lie. You weren’t fine. You were far from it. Every time you left her, slipping back into the quiet safety of your own bed, you could feel the guilt clawing at your chest like a living thing. It whispered in your ear, cruel and relentless, reminding you of every rule you were breaking, every promise you were shattering.

But the worst part? You reveled in it. There was a twisted kind of freedom in the guilt, like stepping into a storm and letting it drench you. It was messy and terrifying and so far removed from the pristine, polished version of yourself you’d been raised to be. With Paige, you weren’t the good girl anymore. You weren’t the dutiful daughter or the pious believer. You were raw, unfiltered, unapologetically human. And you hated how much you loved it.

┈┈┈

One night, after another one of those late-night texts, you found yourself sprawled on Paige’s bed, your head resting against her chest as her fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm. The room smelled faintly of her lavender laundry detergent and the minty vape she always carried. It should’ve been calming, but it wasn’t. Not tonight.

“You’re quiet,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“Liar.” Her fingers paused, and she tilted her head to look at you. “You’ve got that look again.”

“What look?”

“That I’m feeling guilty as hell but too stubborn to admit it look.”

Her words hit too close to home, and you shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She sighed, her hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was too tender, too intimate. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You closed your eyes, the weight of her gaze almost too much to bear. “I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn’t want to say it, but the truth was clawing its way out, demanding to be heard. “I just… I can’t stop feeling like this is wrong. Like I’m wrong.”

Paige stiffened beneath you, the softness in her expression giving way to something sharper. “Wrong? What does that even mean?”

You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest. “It means this. Us. Everything. It’s not… it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Says who?” Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now, a defensiveness you’d never heard before.

You looked at her, your throat tightening. “Everyone. My parents. My pastor. God.”

The word hung between you like a curse, and Paige let out a bitter laugh, sitting up as well. “God? Really? You think God’s sitting up there, keeping score of who you kiss?”

“It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s everything. The lying, the sneaking around, the… the way I feel about you. It’s too much.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but instead of the defensiveness you expected, she exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing. “Look, I might not be the most religious,” she began, her voice steady but gentle, “but I don’t think God’s sitting up there keeping some cosmic tally of who you kiss or how you feel. That’s not love. That’s control.”

Her words made you flinch, and she reached out, her hand brushing yours lightly before pulling back. “You grew up being told He’s this all-powerful, all-knowing being, right? So, if He’s that big, that perfect, then don’t you think He’s got room for you, too? For… this?” She gestured between the two of you, her voice softening. “I mean, if God is love, doesn’t that include the kind you feel for me?”

Your throat tightened, and you felt the tears coming before you could stop them. Paige saw, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned in, her voice dropping even lower, like she was sharing a secret just for you. “You’re not broken. You’re not wrong. And you sure as hell don’t need saving. Not from me. Not from anyone.”

For a fleeting moment, the knot in your chest loosened. Paige’s words were like a salve, soothing the ache you’d carried for so long. She made it sound so simple—love as something pure and whole, untainted by judgment or shame. You wanted to believe her. God, you wanted to.

And for a moment, you did. You let yourself lean into her warmth, let yourself imagine a version of this where you could breathe freely, unburdened by guilt. But it didn’t last. The weight of your upbringing—the sermons, the warnings, the whispered prayers for deliverance—settled back over you like a heavy cloak.

“Maybe you’re right,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “Maybe God doesn’t care. But I do.”

Paige frowned, her brows furrowing. “Why?”

“Because it’s not just about Him,” you said, your hands clutching your knees tightly. “It’s about everything. My parents. My community. The person I’ve spent my whole life trying to be.”

Her face softened, and she reached for your hand again, her grip firm and grounding. “But what about the person you are? The one sitting right here, right now?”

You couldn’t answer. Or maybe you didn’t want to. The truth felt too raw, too messy to say out loud.

Paige sighed, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Look, I get that this is complicated for you. But you deserve to love and be loved without feeling like you’re doing something wrong. And if no one’s ever told you that before, then I’m telling you now.”

Her words lingered, wrapping around you like a safety net. You wanted to fall into it, to let her catch you. But the ground beneath you still felt too shaky, too uncertain.

So you stayed quiet, letting her hold your hand while the silence stretched between you. It wasn’t resolution, but it was something. And for now, that was all you could handle.

Over the weeks that followed, something began to shift. Paige didn’t press you, didn’t demand answers you weren’t ready to give. Instead, she stayed patient, like she understood the weight you carried better than anyone ever had. She didn’t push you to talk about your guilt, but she made space for you when you did. Slowly, you began to let her in.

It started small. A whispered confession in the quiet of her dorm. A memory shared over takeout cartons and late-night reruns of shows you’d never admit to liking. The walls you’d spent years building began to crumble, piece by piece, under her steady gaze and unflinching kindness.

One night, as you lay sprawled on her couch, the conversation wandered back to the topic you’d both been skirting around for days.

“Do you ever think about leaving it all behind?” Paige asked, her voice soft but curious.

“Leaving what behind?”

She tilted her head toward you. “The guilt. The rules. The version of yourself you’re so scared to let go of.”

You didn’t answer right away. You traced the pattern of the couch cushion beneath your fingers, searching for words that wouldn’t come. Finally, you sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” she said. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be as complicated as you think.”

The conversation stuck with you. Paige didn’t have all the answers, but she had a way of making you feel like you could find them yourself. She challenged you to ask questions you’d spent years avoiding, to rethink the parts of your faith that had been weaponized against you.

“I don’t think you have to throw it all away,” she said one night, her voice careful, deliberate. “Your faith, I mean. Maybe it just needs to look different. More… you. I never left that religious part of my life, I just... made it more me.”

You didn’t know what that meant yet, but the idea of redefining your faith—of making it your own—felt like a spark in the darkness.

For the first time in years, you began to feel something that resembled peace. There were moments, fleeting but powerful, where you allowed yourself to be happy without questioning if you deserved it. Moments when Paige’s laugh lit up a room, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Moments when she kissed you, and the world went quiet, and the only thing that mattered was her hands in your hair and her breath against your skin.

It wasn’t perfect. The guilt didn’t disappear overnight. It still crept in, especially when you were alone, whispering that you were wrong, broken, sinful. But it didn’t consume you the way it used to.

Because now, there was something stronger than the guilt. There was Paige. And there was you. The version of you she saw—the one who deserved love, who could rewrite the rules, who didn’t have to apologize for existing.

And maybe, just maybe, that version of you was worth believing in.

Falling in love with Paige wasn’t a dramatic, earth-shattering event. It wasn’t fireworks or grand declarations or sudden epiphanies. It was quieter than that, gentler. Like the tide rolling in, it happened so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realize it was happening until you were already submerged.

It was in the small things—the way she’d instinctively hold your hand during a scary part of a movie, her thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin. The way she always knew when you needed space and when you needed her closer, as if she could read the thoughts you couldn’t put into words. The way she’d say your name, softly, like it was her favorite word.

You started noticing how her laugh could fill a room, making even the dullest moments feel alive. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved—basketball, her dog back home, or the time she convinced her whole team to wear matching Crocs. Paige had this way of making the ordinary extraordinary, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

She never tried to fix you, never made you feel like you were some puzzle that needed solving. She just saw you—the real you, the messy, complicated, guilt-ridden you—and loved you anyway.

Paige’s love wasn’t flashy or conditional or based on expectations. It was steady, like a heartbeat, a rhythm you could count on even when everything else felt uncertain.

It wasn’t in the grand gestures but in the little moments. Like when she brought you coffee the exact way you liked it, without asking. Or when she remembered the names of the books you’d mentioned in passing and bought you one “just because.” It was in the way she’d text you random memes during the day, just to make you laugh, and the way she’d listen—really listen—when you spoke about your fears, your dreams, your past.

One night, you found yourself lying beside her, the room lit only by the faint glow of her bedside lamp. She was doodling something on your arm with her finger, her touch light and absentminded.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.

“Drawing stars,” she said with a grin. “Because you’re my universe.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah, but it made you smile,” she shot back, her voice full of playful confidence.

And it did. She always did.

As you lay there, her head resting against your shoulder, you realized that this—she—made you feel complete in a way you hadn’t even known was possible. Paige loved you in a way that felt so simple, so natural, that it made you question everything you’d ever believed about love.

You used to think you were hard to love. That you came with too much baggage, too many rules, too much you. But with Paige, there was no effort, no hesitation. She loved you like it was breathing, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And for the first time, you began to wonder if maybe she was right. If maybe love didn’t have to be hard or painful or earned. If maybe, just maybe, it could be as simple as this.

Over time, the love between you grew, not in explosive leaps but in quiet, steady steps. It wasn’t just the way she kissed you or held your hand. It was in the way she made you laugh until your sides hurt, the way she celebrated your victories, big or small, like they were her own. It was in the way she never gave up on you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.

It wasn’t perfect. You weren’t perfect. But Paige made you feel like you didn’t have to be. She made you feel whole, even in the moments when you felt broken.

And as you fell deeper into this love—this easy, unconditional love—you began to realize something else. You weren’t just falling in love with her. You were starting to fall in love with yourself, too.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[sectumsempraaa]

Drowning Lessons

Pairing: Theo Nott x fem!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Featuring: Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Draco, Pansy

Based on this request! Thank you :)

TW: fear/phobia of water and swimming, traumatic memories, physical pain, freefalling, panic, severe weather

A/N: you GUYSSSS i missed you!! i have been away for a minute because… i met someone 🤭 but we’re back in the saddle now, working thru requests!

Summary: After a rip current incident when you were younger, you’ve lived your life deeply afraid of the water, vowing never to swim again. But when a lesson in Magical Creatures leaves you stranded in the black lake, your boyfriend Theo comes to the rescue.

“Never have I ever… got stuck underwater.” Pansy jokes, calling you out in front of your friend group. You sigh and roll your eyes, putting a finger down as the game instructs.

“Come on, Pans. That’s low.” Theo says, a stern tone emitting from him. “You know what happened.”

“Actually, I don’t! Y/N here would never tell me such secrets.” She playfully nudges your arm with her elbow, encouraging you to speak.

Theo notices your breath quickening as you attempt to swallow your nerves and reaches an affectionate hand to rub your shoulder in comfort.

The unwelcome memory snaps back to you, triggered by Pansy’s jab. You, a rip current, and the American sun. As a young girl, you had been swimming around in the ocean on a trip to California when a current pulled you under and whipped you around senseless.

No matter how far you reached your hands, they could never find the surface. You were convinced it was the end until a lifeguard raised you from the water and carried you to shore.

Unfortunately, your lungs suffered some minor damage. To this day, you get short-breathed easily, especially when you start to panic. It’s nothing too serious, but noticeable enough to your friends and Theo.

“Don’t listen to her, bella. She’s drunk.” Theo comforts you, his voice competing with the sounds of the party. You nod and give him a small smile, hoping everyone will just forget about this moment.

“Your turn, baby.” Theo kisses your cheek, easily bringing your good mood back. You reach a hand to rest on his knee, letting him know your appreciation.

“Hmm…” you think hard, attempting to give Pansy a taste of her own medicine. “Never have I ever… had a wet dream about a teacher.”

You smirk, knowing you hit it right on the mark. The group collectively drop their jaws, Theo’s hand grabbing your thigh in surprise.

“That was ONE time! And how do you know it was even a teacher?!” Pansy snarls, becoming fiercely defensive.

Mattheo pipes in, imitating Pansy. “Oh, Professor Lockhart, right there! Yes!” Pansy hits Mattheo over the side of the head, giving him a scowl and spewing profanities his way. Theo laughs uncontrollably, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Damn, principessa,” Theo says, his words laced with pride. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

You smile, shaking off any remnants of your panic and settle back into the party. For the rest of the night, everyone plays nice.

—

Later that week, you found yourself outside for Magical Creatures class. You watch on in awe as Hagrid presents a hippogriff to the class. You’re intrigued by the creature, the beauty of her feathers fanning out and her graceful strength striking to you.

Each student is to take a turn with her this week, bowing to and exploring their interactions with her. You are a gentle, animal-loving soul and she senses it as she immediately bows back to you.

You step forward, her beak nudging your ribs while you pet her. A small laugh escapes your mouth as you stumble backwards, quickly regaining your balance.

“Such a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” You sing, stealing a glance at Theo who, like the rest of the class, is looking at you like you’re the damn bird whisperer. He nods, gesturing over to where Hagrid is standing.

“Aye, I think she likes ya. Care for a flight today, Y/N?” Hagrid asks, encouraging you to engage further with the creature.

Before you can even answer, she lowers herself to your height, inviting you to climb on. A pang of hesitancy hits your gut, your body and mind wanting two different things.

Theo approaches her from behind so as not to be noticed by her. He grips your hips, lifting and guiding you to her back.

He senses your nerves, whispering a thought before you take off. “Careful, cara mia. I need you in one piece.” He winks, stepping back to where the class is.

Once you’re up in the air and soaring around, you get comfortable with the height and let yourself enjoy the flight. It’s not every day you bond with a hippogriff.

Your hands are white knuckling but your face relaxes into a basking smile, taking the time to give her pets as she flies you around the circumference of the castle.

The wind picks up a bit, feeling cool and refreshing on your face. But it turns into more than just a breeze, as you feel a few droplets of rain cascading down your skin.

Down on the ground, Lorenzo nudges Theo’s arm with his elbow, holding out his hand to bring Theo’s attention to the rain. The alarm in his voice becomes apparent as he speaks to Theo.

“Hey mate, we best get your girl down. This isn’t looking too promising.”

Within seconds, a slight drizzle becomes harsh, thrashing sheets of rain. Unsure of how to land, you attempt to push down on your hippogriff’s back, signaling her to descend.

It was all so fast, the way a few drops of water became like bullets. The wind changing direction every few seconds starts to disorient you as you struggle more and more to hold on. Down below, Hagrid instructs the class to head indoors.

But before you even get a chance to land, a sudden clad of thunder erupts, blasting in your ears with your close proximity to the sky.

You can feel her panic beneath you as you try to soothe her and talk her down. Another clad. And another. She screeches just as she takes a turn over the black lake.

Theo storms over to where Hagrid is, a threat like hell lacing his words and crimson red burning in his eyes.

“GET HER DOWN, NOW.” If you weren’t so close to the roaring thunder, you’d have heard him repeat this several times in angsty Italian.

And then it all snapped. A bolt of lightning strikes the Whomping Willow in the distance, scaring your hippogriff so badly she bucks you off, jolting you off her side.

It takes a second for you to realize you’re free falling dozens of feet towards the water with nothing to stop you, almost like in slow motion.

On the ground, panic stirs wildly as Hagrid tries to lure her down with meat, which works… for her. The creature makes a near-crash landing close to Hagrid’s hut.

But Theo’s heart drops into his stomach as he notices the empty spot on her back where you’re supposed to be.

His heart races as he searches the sky for a sign of you, unable to move from his spot. Then, you appear, and the sight of you falling from the clouds utterly paralyzes him.

The sound of your scream prompts him back to reality, urging him to take action. The last thing you hear before you crash into the water is Theo’s horrified voice yelling your name.

“SHE CAN’T BE IN THE WATER!” he shouts at Hagrid through the relentless, howling storm as he shoves the professor out of the way.

Then… silence.

The pain of a thousand needles pierces your skin, the freezing water enveloping your body in a rigid embrace. The burn from the crash lingers for a while on your skin as your brain catches up with the moment.

Slowly, your eyes open to the dark and murky scene around you, your vision slightly delayed.

Once you realize you’re under, you actually have a moment of peace. Maybe it was the way your body stilled after the impact, maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was you coming to terms with this scenario once again.

It’s starting to feel like fate.

Your arms float above you as you feel your lungs start to tighten. Then it all comes back to you, the trauma of it causing you to stir and thrash in the water.

Your lack of swimming skills is regretful now as you try to raise yourself to the surface. You helplessly grab onto plants and rocks for leverage, something falls into your hand, but ultimately nothing in your reach seems to work.

Suddenly, an arm grabs your waist with urgency, causing you to scream beneath the water, the air bubbles rising from your mouth. Another hand reaches up to cover your mouth, urging you to breathe.

When your eyes meet his, you wonder how they can still appear so crystal blue in such grim conditions. He shakes his head and points to his chest, as if to say, “It’s me.”

You wrap your arm around his neck as he pulls you up, making each second count. When you reach the surface, your lungs start to contract wildly, desperately trying to catch up on oxygen.

Your vision is still blurred and your head is still in a haze when you feel his arms wrap under your legs to lift you up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Theo curses under his breath as he carries you to land. He yells out to someone as he gently rests you down on the ground. “Get Pomfrey, NOW!”

You’ve never heard his voice so urgent, so demanding. And he wouldn’t tell you this, but deep down, he knows he’s never been this scared before in his life.

You stir beneath him, fiddling the grass around in your fingers as your breath slowly begins to level again. “Theo…” you start, barely able to get the words out.

“Ssshh, mi amore, you’re okay. Don’t speak, just look at me, okay?” He asks, earning a painful nod from you in return. You can’t help but notice how both your voices are equally shakey.

The rain begins to subside, the skies finally concluding their vicious rein. Your body shakes a little from the several rapid changes in temperature. Theo scans you head to toe, attempting to pinpoint a place to start working.

His hands work on unbuttoning your jacket and removing your shoes, everything completely drenched that could weigh you down. Once he’s finished, he cups your face in his hands, bringing his lips to your forehead for a gentle kiss.

With your eyelids halfway open, you pause for a second before displaying a grin and letting out a low, humming laugh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What in the world could you possibly be laughing at?” He looks down in your eyes with worry and a slight annoyance.

Your voice coughs and croaks, struggling to project from your throat. “Remember in third year when you caught your first snitch? And Draco was so jealous you had won them the championship that he stole it?”

Theo nods gently, his eyes widening in awe and his jaw dropping in surprise as you weakly reach your hand up to his face, revealing the rusted, waterlogged snitch in your palm.

“It was resting in between a couple rocks in the lake. He must have thrown it in there amidst his toddler-like fit of rage.” You explain, your smile unwavering.

“Bella, you continue to both kill and amaze me.” He takes the snitch in his hand, leaning down to kiss you.

When his lips caress yours, you feel him smiling against you. Your fingers find themselves at the base of his hair, wet from the rain.

When he pulls back, he lifts his head to meet Pomfrey’s gaze. His stressed words sound like an echo as your eyes begin to close again.

“Please, madame, she’s pale and freezing and,” he starts, just before being cut off by the healer. A soft hand cups his face as you hear her voice begin to speak. He needs soothing just as much as you do right now.

“Well come on then, dove. Let’s get your girl to the infirmary. Get her up, I reckon she trusts you the most.”

Without giving it a second thought, Theo pulls you tight against his chest, letting out a small grunt as he lifts you and himself off the ground.

“Whatever I can do, I want to do it.”

—

The next morning, you wake up to a foggy sunrise. The early light creeps in through the infirmary windows, casting a glow on Theo.

His body sits in a chair next to your bed, his head resting in your lap and a hand clutching yours.

It takes a second to put the pieces back together. But the sight of your wet clothes on the ground and the boy sleeping on your thighs helps kickstart your memory.

You brush your thumb against the back of his hand while attempting to awaken your limbs from their still slumber.

When he stirs awake, a wave of relief washes over his features. “Y/N,” he gasps, waking up fast and standing up to sit on your bed.

He pulls you in, holding your head to his chest and cradling you safely in his arms. He rocks you back and forth, savoring your warmth. You pull back and meet his gaze, his eyes frantically searching your face.

“Hey, hey,” you whisper, resting your forehead on his. “You told me to come back in one piece. I did.” You smile, nudging his nose with yours.

“Cara mia…” Theo groans, trying to hold back his smile. “Next summer, we’ll swim every single day at Malfoy Manor if that’s what it takes to make sure this never happens again.”

You pause, hesitant to agree to the notion. But deep down, you know it’s time to recover from this and move forward.

“I’ll learn fastest there anyways, assuming we’ll keep playing fetch with Draco whenever he gets mad and throws something of value into the pool.”

You joke, running your hands through Theo’s dried hair. His eyes have a hint of bloodshot to them after yesterday’s events.

“Whoever gets him to throw his ring in the pool first gets to push the other in the water?” He offers, extending his hand to you. You take it, shaking and kissing the back of it.

“You’re on, Nott.” You giggle, sending a glimmer of light to his eyes.

You didn’t notice it until now, the way he’s clinging onto your waist like you’ll somehow fall away again. You pull back, bringing him with you so his head rests on your chest.

You look down at your boy in his exhausted state. You kiss the top of his head as he dozes back off to sleep, nuzzling the side of his face against your collarbone.

“Never have I ever… risked my life for someone.” You whisper, entangling your fingers in the strands of his hair. You feel him huff against you, the breath from his laugh caressing your hospital gown.

Gently, you feel one of his fingers press down harder onto your hand as it clasps yours.

“You love to win this game.” He mutters back to you, kissing your chest softly as you feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin.

“Maybe, but I love someone else much more.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Send out an army to find you

request: can i please request a lorcan x reader where maeve kidnaps reader who is pregnant. She wants lorcans child because he left her service snd she wants someone sith his powers so she tries to keep reader until she gives birth but she is saved by him.

warnings: blood, implications of death, capture, pregnancy. The good stuff.

In other words your girl got carried away....

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lorcan felt as if the ground had cracked beneath his feet. He fell as if he was freefalling as if he knew that the only fate that awaited him was painful death. He sensed the panic through the bond while he and the rest of the cadre had been training in the woods. The sheer amount of it had made Lorcan's knees buckle. And then he ran. He ran like he had never run before. Body moving on its own, fully trusting his instincts. He didn't care that the house might be crawling with whatever creatures had managed to get inside. The sight of the door barely hanging on its hinges was enough to make bile rise in his throat, yet he strode inside.

"Y/N", he called, going from room to room. There was broken glass everywhere, the chairs in the dining room were broken to pieces, and the utensil drawer was open. All Lorcan could smell was panic. Pain. Fear. His heart was beating so fast, he could feel it all over his body. "Y/N", he shrieked once more. He smelled you still. And that could mean two things: either he was just a heartbeat too late, or you were still here. He prayed for the second. But when Lorcan darted upstairs to see handprints of blood all over the nursery, everything around him froze for a second. The worst fears dance freely in his mind. He didn't even realize when he had started roaring. Or when all of the darkness possessed by him manifested. Drowning out all the light, making all the greenery wilt.

Lorcan felt firm hands holding onto him, trying to pick up the mess. "Let go of me", the male roared. But that wish wasn't granted to him as other sets of hands gripped his face. "I'm going to kill...", Lorcan stated. "Who will you kill? Who, Lorcan?", it was Gavriel who stood right in front of him. Paler than before. Worry laced his features as well. "You need to think", Fenrys added from the side of him, making Lorcan grit his teeth as he spat, "I'm thinking! She's gone, she's...and the baby, that's...", Lorcan felt another wave of panic rush through him. Fear when he realized that he couldn't hold onto the bond that connected you both.

"Breathe", it was Rowan, whose cold wind twirled around Lorcan now, the male trashed in the grip of his friends. "No, you don't...", Lorcan's voice broke. "Breath, Lorcan", Rowan said softly again. Lorcan knew that Rowan, of all the males, knew how painful this felt. He had lost his pregnant partner. They had all watched him fight the demons that clouded his will to live after that. Lorcan sank to his knees, ripping at his chest in hopes of feeling at least any sense of warmth from your side.

The cadre had never seen Lorcan like this. Sure, you had cracked the deepest parts of the male. You had made his presence a lot more bearable. Maker, he smiled even. Smiled from his heart during the family dinner. His prickly side was pushed aside almost fully. Saved only for scaring people away and inflicting panic on the enemy. You were his everything, and to miss that would have been impossible. Rowan clasped Lorcan's shoulders. Yet no one dared to say a single word about what this could truly mean.

You slowly drifted back to consciousness. Frowning slightly once the unfamiliar surroundings began to emerge. Your hand immediately went to your bump as you looked around the stone cell. The sound of the metal shackles made you look down; your hands and ankles were chained. You instantly tried to pull on your mating bond. To call for Lorcan... But a pained cry left your mouth as you found it lifeless. No, you thought to yourself, they wouldn't have managed to kill Lorcan.

"Oh, how lovely to see you awake", the voice dripped venom, and your wild eyes looked at the queen you hoped you'd never have to see again. "What did you do?", You moved to sit up slowly. "I just wanted to see you. You have someone I want", the way she whispered made your body shiver. "What did you do to Lorcan, Maeve", you hissed, hands wrapped around your bump. The motherly instinct was on high alert. The queen smirked, "He used to be my best. You do know what an attentive lover in bed Lorcan was to me". You shook your head. You knew how she treated them all. How she played with them. She twisted her powers to make puppets out of them. Lorcan had never loved her. He had never cared for her.

"It was so hard for me to do this to him", Maeve purred. The panic swirled within you. She wouldn't; you told yourself, she wouldn't have. "I'll make sure the wound of losing him will heal", her voice pierced right through you. "No," you breathed out, "He's not dead. You're lying, bitch". The sympathetic look on her face made you sick. "No, what did you do? What did you do?", you launched forward, chains ringing as you pulled at them. "Now, now... You can't be doing all that. You're pregnant", the queen stepped forward. Her cold hand moved to touch the round swell forming. You tried to move your hands so you could claw at her face, but her magic kept you at bay. "The babe growing within you is like no other, dear", she said, slowly sweeping your tangled hair away from your face. Silent tears that rolled down your cheeks were the only indication of your real emotions that bubbled within. "I'll raise a one-of-a-kind worrier out of that, babe", her nails dug into your face, "You took Lorcan away from me; now your debts will be paid." You tried to scream, but she seized your consciousness, sending you into the dark, oblivious.

Every moment that passed was a moment too long for Lorcan. A heartbeat was wasted. He still didn't know if you were alive. He hoped for it. You had to. Rowan had explained the power that Maeve had when it came to twisting bonds between mates. Maeve. To think that his beautiful, sweet, pregnant wife was in the hands of that sadist. Lorcan knew that you could stand your ground, but he knew that Maeve would not hold back.

He let Gavriel and Rowan plot the plan. His brain was everywhere at the moment. Lorcan clutched the baby blanket you had knitted in his hand. He had been holding onto it for the past two weeks. Only managing to slip into restless sleep if the scent of you was close. "Do you agree, Lorcan?", Gavriel's voice made Lorcan stiffen. But the lion knew that he wasn't listening. "Let us handle Maeve. I know that you want to kill her", Gavriel's voice was calm, but Lorcan let out a bitter laugh, "Want? Want doesn't even come close to it". The lion nodded. "I know, we know, but it's best if you find Y/N in the castle and get the hell away from it". As sweet as revenge tasted, Lorcan knew that this plan was the only one. Because even he didn't trust himself to not get carried away.

You had no way to tell how many days had passed. You had tried to refuse all food and water, but your baby needed it. And as much as you had no will to carry on, the little kicks and squirms within you were the only things making you feel anything other than the void that painted your chest black. You were curled into a ball at the furthest corner of the cell. Holding onto your bump as you hummed slightly.

You hoped the rest of the family would come looking for you. You hoped that this void was just one of many twisted things that Maeve loved. But at this moment, you knew that it was only you. Only you could protect your unborn child from that sadist. She had told you all about it. How the baby would be hers. How she would take it under her wing and raise it as if it was her baby. You gritted your teeth.

The cell door cracked open. You stilled, gripping the metal plate you had filed against the stones, turning it into a somewhat makeshift weapon. You doubted it would be enough to kill her. But you were prepared to try anything by now. You counted the steps, bracing yourself for the blow.

Your hit, however, was met by a strong grip. You were ready to swing one more time as the warmth flooded your heart. "Y/N", you had never loved the sound of your name more than now. Your eyes met the familiar dark orbs. A breath hitched in your throat. Lorcan was standing right in front of you. Your mate was standing right in front of you. You couldn't help but let out a cry.

Lorcan's strong arms wrapped around you instantly. He wasn't expecting to find you here. He was about to turn around when his ears caught on to that familiar heartbeat. Your baby's heartbeat. Steady and strong. And so he leaped down the stairs into the dungeon. Only to find you in this damp, forgotten place.

"Look at me, does anything hurt?", his voice was sharp and calculated. Lorcan looked over your face at the scab on your cheek, yet you shook your head. "She told me...", you muttered. "Listen to me. Is the baby okay? You're feeling okay?", he was close to shaking; you had been dead in his mind for weeks now. He had mentally prepared to find your lifeless body. "Lorcan...", you choked out, sinking into his arms.

"I've got you, dove. I'll take you home. I will never let anyone take you or our baby away from me", he wasn't sure at this point if he was saying this to soothe you or himself more. You barely nodded as Lorcan leaned to scoop you up into his arms. You heard him mutter something else, something about staying awake, but your body was too tired. Your mind was too fried from all the lies that Maeve had told you. So you let yourself drift away.

The crackling sound of the fire woke you up. The room was dim, but in a comfortable way. It was warm, and it smelled of freshly made food. You blinked a couple of times. Your gaze followed the pressure on your thigh. A messy set of black hair met you. Lorcan was holding your hand, his head resting on your thigh as he slept, his free palm resting on your round stomach. You doubted the position was comfortable, and his shoulders, without doubt, would kill him once he woke up.

You reached down to brush his hair away from his face. You smothered the lively bond in your chest. Soaking in the warmth of it. "You have no idea how nice it is to feel you through the bond", Lorcan's voice was groggy, his eyes still closed. You gave him a sad smile, "I'm afraid I do... She told me that she killed you", you muttered. Lorcan rose slowly. His face looked grim. There was a sign of anger still there.

"I'm going to take my time when I...", Lorcan growled but you quickly clasped his hand, "Lorcan... promise me you won't go after her alone", you pleaded. You could tell that he wanted to argue back but his shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. "How are feeling? The healer looked you over but... You can...", he broke out into yet another rant, and you reached out to him, cupping his cheek, "I'm okay, we're okay. Happy to have daddy back with us", you muttered, feeling your eyes filling up with tears.

Lorcan leaned into your touch before he clasped your hand in his, kissing it a couple of times. "I would raise armies for you and fight gods if I had to", he said, and you knew he meant all of it as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. "And I will always find you, both of you. I'll look till my very last breath", Lorcan's voice was barely a whisper as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I know, my love, I'd fight for our family with bare hands if I had to", you muttered, leaning into your mate so you could kiss him lovingly.

[hyacintheros]

It's Called: Freefall

|| (Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A smidge of angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: In the Dreaming, a once vibrant realm now lies in ruins after Morpheus' century-long absence, leaving the Queen and Lucienne struggling to maintain its remnants. When Morpheus finally returns, weak and broken, the Queen's unwavering love brings him solace, as they begin the journey of restoring both the realm and his shattered heart.

The Dreaming, once home to beautifully lush forests and paths for its visitors to travel through, now lays grey and barren, stones and ash replacing the garden.

"Lucienne? What do you think?" The girl says, once Queen of this land, now one of the only inhabitants left.

"I think it's wonderful, My Lady. Though, how long do you think they will last this time? We got about a week out of them last time we tried." Lucienne remarks, wanting to be helpful with the new garden, but she knows it won't last, not without Morpheus.

"We'll do what we can, hopefully I can find something in the library that may help us this time around." The librarian says, walking off.

Though before she can really go anywhere, the air around them changes. Once tense and stuffy for a century, now feeling like a breath of fresh air. Confused by this, both women look at each other.

They go to the gates of the Dreaming, hoping to not find an intruder, they've had quite the few 'visitors', usually Lucifer wanting whatever is left of the Dreaming.

Instead, they find a naked Morpheus, a body the Queen knew very well. She rushes over, covering him with her cloak. Her hands travel all over him, touching his face and chest, trying to etch it into her brain.

"Morpheus..?" She whispers, barely audible. He looks at her, tears welling in his eyes, he looks terribly weak and vulnerable. A state she's only seen once before, when Orpheus died many years in the past.

He envelopes her in a desperate hug, inhaling her scent, practically eating her whole. Lucienne watches, a little awkwardly. They stay like that, just taking each other in, wordlessly.

Morpheus pulls away, reluctant, still keeping a hand on her. He observes the area, looking at the devastation that whisked in his departure. His palace in literal crumbles, the land is practically barren, their dimension in ruins..

She takes him back to the palace, Lucienne following close behind and updating him on what had occurred. They really did try their best, with Y/N's magic and Lucienne's library, but never could they be as powerful as Morpheus.

“The residents slowly left, most held hope you would come back, but after fifty years or so…” Y/N Mutters, holding onto him as if he were such a delicate crystal, her fingertips burning Morpheus skin in the most touch-starved way possible. One hundred and six years of no physical contact with another being, just in a stupid hamster ball. He’s practically melting into the girl.

They arrived at a wing of the rubbled palace, a few chambers still held up, ushering Morpheus to take a shower and relax. “Darling, are you alright? You’re so pale and gaunt.. Let me see if Abel and Cain have something for you to munch on!” His wife says in a hurry, off to see what they can offer. Though before she can go on her adventure, Morpheus tugs on her wrist, not wanting her to leave.

“Stay, my love.. I will recover when I rest, but please just stay by my side.” She knows he has a double meaning, smiling so sweetly at him, as if he were the stars and she were the moon. “I’ll always be here, even if the sun falls and the moon bursts into pieces, I’ll stand by your side.” She mutters to him as she pecks at his lips.

Morpheus is rarely an emotional person, but hearing that makes his heart feel like it was embroidered by her hands, string by string. He looks at his wife, still in the bathtub, and gives her a soft kiss. One filled with love, adoration, and absolute desperation.

She giggles as she pulls back, yet he chases her lips, capturing them once again. “You are drained and weak, there is much rest needed to be done before anything else!” she chides, finally pulling away from his reach. He rolls his eyes, submerging himself below the water.

The Queen chuckles, going to retrieve some clothing for his, as well as to prepare something for him to eat. Rummaging through the rest of his closet, she lands on a cloak that should still fit him. Laying it on the bed, she hurries to make something in the kitchen that always needs toe be repaired due to the crumbling nature of the realm.

“My Lady, would you like some help? Abel and Cain have graciously given some vegetables and a chicken they were raising.” Lucienne puts a basket of vegetables and a butchered chicken. “Oh that is lovely, I wish we had time to make chicken soup, but I think a roasted chicken would be quicker.”

She grabs the chicken, rubbing some seasoning and olive oil first, then pops it into the oven so it’ll be done about the same time as the vegetables. Lucienne helps prep the vegetables, peeling carrots and washing the cauliflower. Y/N is chopping everything up and making sure the stove is on with a pot of boiling water.

They wait a few minutes to time everything perfectly. In the meantime, they set up the dining table and wash anything that they had used in the cooking process. Lucienne pops back into the kitchen, salting the boiling water and drops the vegetables in. In return for the food, they have invited Abel and Cain to join them for dinner.

While Lucienne keeps an eye on the vegetables, Y/N pulls the chicken out of the oven and carving the meat away from the bones. Lucienne makes a quick gravy to serve over the chicken. They both plate everything up into serving dishes, humming a little tune and chatting about the recent duel they heard about in Hell.

Morpheus by this point has dried himself off and changed into the clothes Y/N left out for him. The smell coming from the kitchen urges him out of the room. Though Morpheus and his kind do not die from starvation, the feeling of pure hunger aches deep within.

“Dream? So it’s true! You’ve returned!” Abel envelopes him in a strong hug. Out of the two brothers, Abel has always been the more emotional one. Cain greets him, welcoming him back and giving a hug as well.

“So I take that you’ll be joining us for dinner?” Dream asks, sitting at his spot at the dining table. The brothers nod, taking their own respective seats. It's rare that they would get to dine with Morpheus, even before he left. Morpheus was much too busy to entertain guests, one of his deepest regrets when he was pondering his life in that fishbowl of a bubble.

Y/N and Lucienne bring out the dishes, serving everyone a hefty chunk of food. She briefly kisses Morpheus’ temple as she’s serving him, then returning to her own seat. There’s an elephant in the room that no one wants to address, making the atmosphere slightly tense. “You were gone for one hundred years, Dream.. Where were you?” Y/N cuts into her chicken while asking, trying to be super nonchalont.

Dream sighs, taking a bite of his potato before answering. “A man, he refused to accept the death of his son, leading him to try and make a deal with Death. He recited the incantation wrong or maybe it was the wrong spell entirely, but he had captured me instead. Kept trying to make a deal with me to bring his son back with mortal currencies and royalties, though it is not within my power to offer such things. He hated his youngest son, refused to accept him. But after he died, his son continued to keep me in this glass ball. His son killed Jessamy! What kind of person would do such a thing?? Only managed to escape because a guard had fallen asleep.” He rants on, enraged by such a depressing chapter of his life.

The rest of the table looks at each other worriedly as he explains, Y/N looking absolutely mortified. She puts a hand over his, trying to distract him, giving him a warm and sympathetic smile. She pours him more water, silently encouraging to drink more, knowing how dehydrated he must be.

Everyone is really awkward, not quite sure how to go about this. In the background, a piece of the west tower has fallen, leaving behind a huge boom. It doesn’t phase them, but Morpheus jumps up like a little kitten, looking around confused.

“Oh gosh, don’t worry sweetheart, come let’s take a walk,” She asks if Lucienne could finish cleaning up the dining table, which Lucienne accepts and wiggles her eyebrows. Y/N rolls her eyes in a teasing manner, holding Dream’s arm.

They walk to different parts of the realm, seeing how deserted and barren the land truly had become. Home’s were destroyed, dreams and nightmares loose, even Fiddler’s Green has gone! It brings him to literal tears, watching everything he has ever worked for be drained of it’s life.

“How dare they..? Take every litte piece of my world, my realm, my work! All for what? For some stupid boy who’s fought for his country? He played his part in life. Like every little domino in life, they fall, so what? You’ve ruined my life’s work, the entire reason of my existence for a son who tried so heavily to get away from your sick cult!?” He goes on and on, just venting his poor heart out to his wife.

She holds him in her arms, just like she did all those years ago.. “Muffin? Look at me.. shhh no it’s okay, cry it out love.” She’s petting his hair and playing with his hand. Morpheus has always been a tough man with little warmth in his heart, only ever reserved for Y/N. But being stuck in a hamster ball for a century has taken a toll on him, mentally speaking. Thinking of his life choices, his actions and words, regretting moments and missing out on so many things.

Now that he’s out of the horrible glass cage, Dream feels as though he’s found a saviour. Though Y/N was not able to save him from captivity, she did save him for the chains that weighed down his heart and mind. She saved him from the dark, festering thought that embedded themselves into his mind not even a whole day ago. Although there is much repair that is needed in his realm, in her arms, he is finally free.

[dreamescapeswriting]

You Feel Like Home ~ Bang Chan [M]

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

GENRE: Smut minors DNI, soft, mentions of a breakup but soft ending, soft chan, soft smut, unprotected sex, soft, sweet, cute

PAIRING: Chan X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

A small sigh leaves your boyfriend's lips as he watches the back of your head, You were sitting at the small desk inside of his room at the dorms with a set of headphones over your head and he bit down on his tongue. This had been something Chan had dreaded from the moment he'd woken up that morning, Maybe dreading was the wrong word to use but he was certainly nervous. Tomorrow he was going to release a song but before it went out into the world he wanted you to be the first person to hear it. Since you had been part of the inspiration behind the entire thing.

What if you didn't like the song? What if it upset you more?

The two of you had just finished patching things up between you and now here he was potentially dragging up all of the bad memories for you from the last few weeks. 

The thing was, the two of you had called it quits on your relationship a few weeks ago, deciding that you needed a break from one another and it had been a pretty explosive fight. The two of you claimed that you were in the right when the truth was, you were right and Chan knew that now. Hence the song was his way of showing you his true feelings.

The night you'd walked out on him he turned to music, something he always did when he knew he needed a form of letting his feelings out,

"Channie," You sniffled turning around in his chair to look at him, his heart racing when he saw your eyes bloodshot and tears running down your cheeks. The song had been beautiful, gosh you hadn't even realised how much you were crying until you felt some of your tears falling onto your lap.

"Baby, don't cry." He begged reaching across and wiping your cheeks free from the tears but they continued to freefall as you got up and cuddled into his chest. Your arms wrapped around him tightly as you squeezed him as close to your body as possible, the song really opened your eyes. When the two of you had gotten into your fight a few weeks ago it was because you accused him of never showing his true feelings with you.

You'd always felt as though he was keeping a part of him hidden away, never being his true self with you or even showing everything he felt and that song changed everything.

"It was beautiful," You told him, sniffling a little as you looked up at him with your chin resting on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This moment right here was perfect and you never wanted it to end.

"I wanted to show you how I felt... I promise to do better from now on," He whispered before you gently cupped his face in your hands and brought him down into a soft kiss, your heart beating rapidly against his chest as you pulled him on top of you on the bed. 

"I need you." You told him as you pulled his sweats down, watching in amusement as he quickly kicked them off and swiftly pulled down your sweats and threw them across the room. Your lips met once again as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. Your heart pounds in your chest as he leans forward a little, lining himself up and looking at you,

"You sure?" He questioned, he didn't want to rush back into anything with you. The two of you had agreed on going back into things slowly and if you weren't sure about this he would walk away and go take a cold shower instead, but he needed you as much as you needed him.

"I've never been so sure about anything in my life," You told him as he pushed into you, one single stroke making your eyes water a little as your legs shook. It had been so long since the last time you were intimate with one another,

"I've got you, baby," He whispers, kissing your cheeks as he holds himself still inside of you, giving you some time to adjust to him before he begins to slowly pull back looking you in the eyes as you nod at him letting him know it was okay for him to continue.

"You feel like home," He moans out as he pulls out of you, pushing back into you softly as he moans your name out, your hands holding onto his arms as you look up at him with complete love in your eyes.

"You're my home," You told him, your back arching from the bed as he picked up the pace just a little, his thrusts causing your legs to tighten around his body, tugging him forward as he pushed deeper into you.

"I missed you," You moaned out as he pushed in and out of you, your hands moving to grip the sheets your head spinning a little as your orgasm built higher and higher.

"Oh fuck, I missed you too, baby," He moaned out as the pleasure builds inside of you, your orgasm slowly rising as you cry his name out and Chan looks down at you.

"Baby...I-I can't last very long," He grunted as he continued to push into you, It had been too long since he'd been with you like this and he wanted to savour every moment he had with you,

"Chan," You rasp out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he grunted loudly, something primal taking over him as he heard you moan like that for him.

"S-Say my name like that again," He grunts as he looks down at you, you smirk a little,

"Chan," You gasp out as he pushed into you, his cock brushing against the sensitive spot inside of you and he grunted hitting that same spot over and over again as your back arches from the bed. That same spot made you want to explode as he looked down at you,

"Chan! Chan! Don't stop!" You begged as he continued to thrust into you, both of you crying out each other's name as you cum around him. Chan's thrusts don't stop until they become shallower and jerkier as he rides out his own orgasm, his legs shaking a little.

The two of you lay there on his bed, your head resting on his chest as you both panted heavily against one another. Your eyes were heavy and you cuddled closer to him, not wanting to go home for the night as he pulled you into him.

"I love you," He told you as he looked down at you, his heart warming as he saw how sleepy you were against him.

"I love you too," You stated between a yawn, whimpering a little as Chan moved to grab a blanket to wrap you both up inside of.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @laylasbunbunny @btsiguess-kpop @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

[pookietv]

clingy | arthurtv

another little illness drabble because i liked doing the george one!

when you got a call from arthur late at night, it was usually him calling to chat when he was bored, or to tell you some new fact that he had found wildly interesting.

so when you heard a slightly raspy, tired sounding arthur, you were a little taken aback.

"y/n?" was the first thing that came down the phone.

"hi, arthur, whats up?" you said sweetly, before a cough came down the phone.

"this might sound a little silly, but would you mind coming round?"

"uh huh, sure, i don't mind at all," you confirmed straight away, "are you okay? you sound a little raspy," you asked.

"think 'm ill.. know it sounds silly but was just laying in bed and i haven't felt great all day, and then i was just missing you and wanted to see you," he rambles out, and you have to admit it did melt your heart a little.

and thats how you had ended up at his door at 11:23, not all that late but a little strange nonetheless, and you pushed the key into the door, the spare you had been given to the flat, slipping your shoes off and heading to arthur's room, trying to be quiet in case anyone was asleep.

you gently pushed open arthur's door to be greeted by him in his boxers, hands tucked under his pillow and laying on his stomach in a freefall position.

"hi, arthur," you said softly as you made your way into his room, putting down your bag which had very little in it, you rarely brought pajamas round to arthurs, knowing you would end up in one of his jumpers, so the bag always felt hollow filled with only your clothes for the next day.

his head lifted from the pillow and a dopey grin plastered itself on his slightly red face.

"how are you feeling?" you asked gently, and he turned himself onto his side so he could see you properly.

"better now you're here, lovie," he babbled back, and you smiled at him.

"you need any water or anything?" you questioned, before looking at his bedside table, which he had clearly prepared for his illness contingencies, tissues, water bottles, snacks and paracetamol.

"'m good, just couldn't sleep very well and i didn't know if it was cause i was ill and i always sleep better with you so i figured," he trailed off, looking a slight bit sheepish as you giggled, "sorry for asking you to come here so late," he finished, but you shrugged.

"no, don't worry about it, you know i'd always come if it'd make you feel better," you reassured, and he just gently put his head back on the pillow.

"i'll get dressed and then come lay down, okay?" you said gently, and arthur murmured out, "that shirt that you like to sleep in, washed it the other day so it'll be in my cupboard rather then my drawer," he explained, and you nodded slightly, opening the cupboard door and grabbing it, quickly pulling your shirt from over your head and replacing it with his, and discarding your trousers, staying in just your underwear, since arthur's room was often hot.

you slid underneath the covers, adjusting them so they lay comfortably on arthur before you felt his forearm resting lazily against your waist, your head tucked next to his collarbone and his face practically buried in your hair.

"sorry if i'm being a little clingy, think i'm just bad at being poorly alone," he joked a little, but you just laughed back gently.

"i don't mind at all, it's actually quite nice," you said, before explaining, "not that you're ill, just that, y'know, you're clingy," i laughed a little more as you tried to explain myself, "although, i don't hate the voice," you teased.

"my voice?" he mumbled out.

"uh huh, kinda raspy," you joked a little more.

"so you find my pain hot?" he said, half teasing back.

"well, i didn't say that," you laughed.

"i mean, i can try get ill more often if it puts you in that kind of mood," he grinned into the top of your head, and you rolled your eyes.

"oh, shut up and go to sleep,"

[idyllcy]

Hey there how about a Damian Wayne x reader fic!!

Mind going through a rabbit hole and kinda wanna have a moment of Damian having girlfriend who can jump through multiverse, maybe she met him accidentally while visiting and bam both fell in love and we see reader staying and only leaving for certain missions

Orrrr…

Damian meeting Wonder Woman Child and then catching feelings! Whole cliche ‘I hate you but secretly I love you’ depends on you!!

freefall - damian wayne x reader

"Oh, fUCK." You slam into the ground underneath you as you step out the portal, frowning when you realize you didn't fall on the cement. Something broke your fall.

"Robin!" Nightwing swings down as you jump off the person who broke your fall.

"Where the hell did you come from?"

"Ohhhh... fuck." You purse your lips. "Is this earth?"

"One of them."

"Mm." You grimace. "Sorry for slamming onto you. I'm, uh, a dimension traveller."

Damian gets a good look at your face, brows pulling into a frown as his cheeks grow dark. You look good. You look too good. One would say...

"Wow..." You catch yourself in the glass of the building. "I look out of this world."

Dick laughs at your joke as you give him a grin.

"You know if I can stay anywhere for the time being? 'kay, even if you don't offer me a place to stay, I'm still going to break into your place since..."

"Do we exist in your universe too?"

You blink slowly at Robin. "Yeah."

"Come on." Nightwing offers a hand to you. "Oracle, we're bringing in a stray from an alternate dimension home."

"I'll let B know."

"You guys are surprisingly calm about this." You blink.

"B's got a thing for picking up strays."

"Fair enough." You smile. "So... Robin?"

"Mm?" He raises a brow at you.

"You single?"

[dollfaceksj]

we need to know what happens when they share that tent NEOW!!!

alright alright!

warnings: nuthin much just a bit of a vibe switch…. y’all will get it when u read it + a bit of jungkook lore

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #11

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

WHAT SHOULD YOU DO?

TELL YOONGI YOU’RE NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING SERIOUS 55,3%

TELL YOONGI YOU REALLY LIKE HIM 44,7%

291 votes

you chose:

TELL YOONGI YOU’RE NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING SERIOUS

↓

you take a breath to gather your courage

“did you know i,” you start, “i had a big crush on you like two years ago?”

he raises his brows as he processes the new info, a small smile on his lips. “i did not.”

he’s so cute guys ohmydhskdjdjdn

you continue, “well, seeing you again made me…” you sigh as you rub your forehead and avoid his gaze, staring down at the ground. “i got excited and let myself get carried away, you know?”

he nods and just lets you speak

you sigh softly and force yourself to look back up at him

“but since then.. since 2 years go i’ve.. i’ve met people,” you say, “i’ve gotten into some situations and i’m realizing now that i’m still thinking about them too.”

yoongi just stares at you as you talk

and it feels like your throat is tightening

just wrap it up you’re dragging it out!!!

“what i wanna say is that, i’m not looking for anything serious right now. not when i know my mind is still clouded by others, i don’t want you to feel played or anything cause i do enjoy spending time with you.”

wow

that took

a WHOLE bunch of courage to say

you stare at him, waiting for a reaction

then, he smiles. “take a breath.”

oh

you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath

anticipating his reaction

you take a deep breath, fingers fidgeting

he nods his head. “that’s okay.”

just as you part your lips to say something, he continues, “i totally understand what you mean when you say your mind is still clouded by someone else cause i still experience it too. i’m glad you had the courage to tell me cause i’m not sure i could’ve admitted that.”

oh

he’s so

wow

need him. RN.

you blink at him. “so, we’re on the same page, then?”

he nods but then tilts his head to the side. “of course. thanks for being honest and making me realize some stuff too.”

a small smile creeps on your lips. you’re glad it worked out

but his next few words knock the air right out of your body

“will you still let me kiss you?”

aa

aaaaaa

AAAAAAAAAA

you bite your lip in an attempt to hide your smile and nod your head, taking a step closer to close the distance between you two

he cups your cheek and brings your face closer to his, gently pressing his lips to yours

your own hands move up to his biceps, softly squeezing them as you kiss him

he’s so fine

his arms fit right into your hands

like you were made to hold him isn’t that crazy

he slightly tilts his head to the side, allowing himself to deepen the kiss

his lips are so soft, you’re convinced you’re being caressed by clouds

you sigh contentedly into the kiss, goosebumps popping out of the upper layer of your skin

oh how you wish you could have him in sinful ways

his hands respectfully drop down to your waist as he pulls you even closer, pressing your chest flat into his

you smile into the kiss and this makes him poke through your lips with his tongue

you part your lips, allowing him to lick into your mouth

you continue to make out with him in front of dirty tables and dishes that are begging for attention

but standing here with him makes the world around you fade away

and you allow yourself to melt into his kiss, his touch, his embra–

“i don’t mean to ruin your kdrama moment but you’re blocking the way. i can’t reach the dirty plates.”

your heart freefalls to your feet

no, not freefalls

PLUMMETS

into the pit of the fucking earth

your lips part from yoongi’s and you turn to look to the side

to see

jungkook

staring you down

eyes slowly dragging down your body

pinch in his brows

tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek

eyes hooded

FUCK

he just went to go pee, of course it wouldn’t take long for him to return

what if he thinks you’re kissing yoongi just in spite of him?!??

“oh, my bad,” yoongi doesn’t seem to notice the tension between you two as he just pulls you to the side to let jungkook get to the plates

the three of you continue to clean up in silence

it’s

so

fucking

awkward

then, hoseok calls out yoongi’s name

“i’m gonna shut the tent and you’re not getting in if you don’t come right now!” hoseok yells from wherever he is

yoongi chuckles and then reaches out to rub your shoulder. “i gotta go. you can handle the rest, right? i mean, you’ve got jungkook too.”

damn

if only he knew

you force a smile and nod.

he’s so sweet :(

“okay. goodnight.” he gently taps your nose and walks off

oh :(

he’s so cute

you do really like him :(

you watch his figure disappear in silence

you turn to the tables and continue cleaning up

jungkook doesn’t say anything at all

you’ve finally cleaned everything up. “shall we go sleep?” you ask as you turn to face him

he nods as he uses his sweatpants to dry his hands

you quietly follow him to his tent, crouching down to follow him inside

well

“i can’t see anything,” you mumble

he doesn’t say anything as he turns the flashlight on on his phone and turns it face down so it lights up the tent

why is he so quiet :/

“we should reserve our battery as much as we can.” you remind him that you’re still in the middle of nowhere

he shakes his head, wordlessly dismissing you

can he stop being so

quiet?

you’re not used to it from him

you quietly watch as he zips the entrance to the tent back up

you just remembered you have to change your clothes with him.. in one tent

now you’re here, on your knees

he’s on his knees too

and he’s reaching for his own luggage

you slowly reach for your suitcase and open it up, picking out the first pajamas you see

when you look over your shoulder to ask him not to look

he’s

shirtless

with his back to you

changing

his clothes

and then

you notice

an entire fucking sleeve of tattoos

oh shit oh shit

he’s hot as fuck😭

you frown. “since when do you have tattoos?”

his head shoots up and he turns to look at you. “ogling me, you perv?”

this damn junior…

well at least he’s talking again

you roll your eyes as you turn back to your own suitcase and tug your shirt off

the silence makes him speak

“i’ve been getting them since a year ago but i don’t like that the sleeve is unfinished so i don’t like showing it yet.”

ah

is that why he wears rash guards when you go swimming?

“oh, ok.” you slide your pajama shirt on and start buttoning it up. you’re trying so hard not look at him cause he’s so fucking hot and you’re stuck with him in one tent

just

act like he’s not here.

ACT LIKE HE’S NOT HERE

okay. that’s good.

“wanna see?”

fuck

FUCK

you do

u really do

you glance at him as you button up your shirt

your eyes trail his bare chest and torso as he’s now fully turned to you

he’s so toned

he looks…… really good

you glance up into his eyes and he is staring straight into your eyes

he knows you just eyed his body

but he doesn’t comment on it

you finally glance down at his arm

he takes his phone into his hand and directs the flashlight at his arm

you see a whole bunch of tattoos, eyes tracing each line

you reach out and trace the lines with your finger

you glance up at him and he’s not looking at his arm

he’s staring straight at you

look away

look away

LOOK AWAY

before you do something

so fucking stupid

…

NOW

you shift your eyes back to his arm. “what does this one mean?” you rub one flower that he has tatted on the inside of his arm

“that’s my mother’s birthflower.”

you glance up at him and this time he’s staring at the tattoo as well instead of at you

“that’s sweet,” you say, quietly

he nods. “yeah. she always said that if i do ever get tattoos, i’d better start with something in honor of her,” he says with a soft smile as he gently rubs his inked skin

you smile. that’s really cute. who knew he was such a softie? “what was her reaction to seeing the tattoo?”

silence

wow

suddenly

the atmosphere changes

maybe you shouldn’t have asked that

he scrunches his nose up for a split second and then tugs his arm from under your finger away

he reaches for his sweater and slides it on, same with his pants. “she never got to see it.”

and with that, he crawls into his oversized sleeping bag and turns his back to you

oh

thats

:/

what happened with his mom?

you stare at his back for a moment longer

you slowly and quietly crawl into your own sleeping bag and try to sleep without another word

“you’re trembling.” his voice is groggy and quiet

how long have you been trying to fall asleep?

you glance at your phone, it’s 2am

“yeah, well, it’s cold,” you mumble, trying to stop yourself from shivering

he says, “come here,” with a soft sigh

huh

come

come WHERE?

“i’m good.”

“stop being stubborn and come here.”

wow

breathless

that’s the only way to describe what you’re feeling right now

you slowly scoot closer to him. you grumble, “don’t talk to me like that, i’m still your senior.”

“yeah, yeah,” he says as he dismisses your comment and slowly starts unzipping your sleeping bag and his

your breath hitches in your throat

is he telling you to crawl into his sleeping bag?

wait

WAITTTT

“don’t touch–”

“i’m not gonna touch you. there’s enough space.”

you glance at him for a moment longer but you can’t see much

he quietly sighs at your accusing gaze. “not everything i do is underhanded, y/n. sometimes i just want to help you, alright? you’re making it really hard to want to help you.”

well

you can’t help it !! you just don’t trust him

but you’re fucking freezing and you don’t know what else to do

you sigh and slowly crawl out of your own sleeping bag into his

you turn on your side, turning your back to him

it’s quiet

it doesn’t seem like he had any ulterior motives cause you can hear the soft puffs leaving his mouth and it actually sounds like he’s sleeping again

he’s right, it’s quite spacious

your bodies haven’t touched

but his body heat is radiating off of him and you don’t feel so cold anymore

alright

you close your eyes and try to fall asleep

and you’re slowly

dozing

off

…

“i’m glad you hit it off with yoongi. he’s a good guy.”

oh shit

your eyes shoot open and you turn your face over your shoulder to look at him

what

don’t do this.

“you deserve someone that’s going to treat you well. i know we’re always teasing each other but i really do want what’s best for you.”

he continues to talk with his eyes closed

is he talking to you in his sleep?

do you believe him? or is this another one of his tricks?

will he remember even inviting you into his sleeping bag tomorrow morning?

your lack of response makes him open up his eyes, staring directly into yours

you can’t see much but you can definitely see that

so he was awake

you turn your face back to lie back with your back to him and close your eyes. you can’t look into his eyes for much longer. “i told him i’m not looking for anything serious.”

there’s a beat of silence

“why?”

you’re quiet this time

very quiet

his breath hits the back of your neck in the meantime

makes you see every celestial body in the universe on the back of your eyelids

nerve endings set alight

goosebumps all over your body

you finally reply, “i’m sure you know why.”

…..

he doesn’t respond to that

and before you know it

you’ve finally dozed off

hm

light

light hits your eyes

scrunching of shoes against branches and grass reach your ears

you stir

trying to recognize your surroundings

your eyes are met with someone’s back

oh right

you’re in the tent with jungkook

but why

the fuck

is your arm

around jungkook’s waist

WHY ARE YOU SPOONING HIM

STOP

take your arm back without waking him up NOW

you slowly start pulling your arm back, but his own arm is caging yours in

you bite your lip as you continue to try to pull your arm back undetected

but

that mission FAILS

when jungkook suddenly jerks and turns around in one swift motion, wrapping his own arm around you as you lie flat on your back

you almost yelp but looking down at him, you realize he’s still asleep

you freeze

his face is directly in the crook of your neck, breath hitting your skin and awakening goosebumps all over your body

his arm is lazily slung around your waist and his legs are intertwined with yours

you hold your breath as you try to think of a way to get out of this without jungkook ever being aware of it

STEADYYYYY

you slowly move to untangle his legs from yours and it’s extra hard cause you can’t actually see your legs

okay MISSION SUCCESSFUL

WOW he didn’t wake up once

he must be a heavy sleeper

Now moving onto his arm around your waist, let’s get that–

“BREAKFAST IS ALMOST DONE! EVERYONE WAKE UP!”

FUCK

FOR FUCKS SAKE TAE!!!!

he’s yelling it around all tents

jungkook

suddenly

jerks

and you almost whimper at how his lips graze your neck

“hm?” you hear a soft hum coming from him

fuck FUCK HE’S WAKING UP

you shut your eyes tightly as he slowly starts to recognize his surroundings

“oh… Oh?” jungkook suddenly scoots back, creating a bigger gap between your bodies

he looks just as surprised as you

“i’m so sorry,” he quickly says as he turns onto his back and rubs his face

you glance at him, noticing how his ears have turned a bright shade of crimson

“it’s okay,” you mumble as you sit up straight, rubbing your own face

you both sit there for awhile just waking up slowly

“come on, breakfast is ready,” you mumble as you start unzipping his sleeping bag further

“wait–” his hand tightly grips your wrist as he tries to stop you in your movements, his entire upper body slouched over your lap

you frown and glance down at him

he slowly lies back down, his hair sprawled out behind his head on his makeshift pillow of rolled up pants.

did he? give you? his pillow? while you? were sleeping?

you say, “what?”

“i uh,” he scratches his head with his other hand

your frown deepens as you encourage him to finish talking

you’re so confused

so damn confused

he suddenly??? turns his back to you???

“never mind. go ahead.”

huh

????

you frown. “what are you doing? breakfast is ready.”

“i’ll come later, okay?”

your frown deepens. “but there might not be anything left for you if you wait.”

he mumbles, “that’s okay for me. you should go, though.”

“jungko–”

“i’m hard as fuck right now, alright? just go. Damn.”

oh

OH

it’s morning

he’s uhhh

experiencing

morning wood?

okay

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

without another word.

you.

get.

the.

hell.

out.

and after you’ve washed up

you see that the table only has two vacant seats left, one next to yoongi that he probably saved for you

and the two empty seats are right across from each other

meaning you’re gonna have to stare straight at jungkook when he joins y’all for breakfast

after what just happened

while sitting right next to yoongi

😂😂😂😂😂😂 life is so funny

to be continued

<- previous ; next ->

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

— follow me on twitter for free exclusive content like sneak peeks, scrapped content, brain storming and to better interact with me ♧♡

— 🍀

taglist link

@joonwater @purp13st4r @bbtsficrecs @whoa-jo @hoseokieswrld @111vicky @jj.uchiha @ellesalazar @etaerealboyv @kissyfacekoo @casual-death @xenkimmie @the-kaya-aa @ane102 @mochminnie @yoongspi @Katie_tibo @llallaaa @littledropsofheavens @jlixe @frieschan @burnahtsw @somehowukook @alcurls02 @y2kcyb3rz @hopeforyoux @taehyungteddy @Rdaisy-75 @taolucha @eys-loveskoosomuch @kookssecret @xodinosaurxo @mackier10 @kelsyx33 @teddybeartaee @petalsofjr @ijustexistatthispoint @thalhad @whatamitoyou @parkinglot-nights @ahgasegotarmy116 @petalsofink @Hani_0407

[goldenraeofsun]

The Dad Who Stepped Up

For @elegitre!

Bruce puts the Batmobile in park. With a heavy sigh, he pulls down the cowl and glances over at Dick, sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. Twin dark purple bruises bloom across his knees – Bruce almost hadn’t caught him in time, but he grabbed Dick out of freefall at the last second, wrenching his right arm out of its socket in the process. His ribs ached as his torso absorbed most of Dick’s weight, but, worst of all, the landing slammed Dick’s knees against the unforgiving asphalt.

Bruce reaches over, his gauntlets hovering over Dick’s bare knees. He really should work on convincing his ward to add pants to his uniform. Dick has proved himself remarkably stubborn, but Bruce is an adult. He’s Batman. Nobody can out-stubborn him – not Deputy Chief of Police, James Gordon, not his butler, Alfred Pennyworth, and certainly not an eight-year-old who thinks bad puns are the height of sophistication.

Dick will be wearing pants on the next patrol. End of discussion.

With that resolve, Bruce slips out of the Batmobile. He soundlessly opens the passenger-side door and carefully unbuckles Dick. With his good arm, he lifts Dick against his left side and ignores the way his ribs throb. Dick’s head lolls, his sleepy breathing heating the hollow of Bruce’s throat.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred says as they pass the Batcomputer.

“Bedtime,” Bruce says in an undertone not to wake Dick.

“I should say so,” Alfred says. “Shall I take care of everything down here?”

“Yes, please,” Bruce says gratefully as he heads to the stairs.

Dick only starts to stir as they make their way down the family wing. “Whazzat?”

“We’re back at the Manor,” Bruce says. “Patrol is over. You’re safe.”

“Oh, good,” Dick murmurs as he settles back against Bruce’s side. “’M tired.”

Bruce smiles. “I never would have guessed.”

“Hmph.”

Bruce nudges Dick’s door open with his foot and gently sets Dick down on his bed. As Dick flops back, apparently dead to the world, Bruce slips off his green boots and sets them down quietly on the floor. He unzips the scaled bottoms, leaving Dick in his underwear, and slowly unpeels the mask from his face. 

“Dick?”

Dick unleashes an almighty snore.

Bruce chuckles. “I know you’re awake, chum.”

Dick cracks an eye open. “What now, Bruce?”

“You need to roll over,” he says, twirling his finger to illustrate. “I don’t want you strangling yourself with your cape in your sleep.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dick grumbles as he nevertheless turns over so Bruce can unlatch the cape.

“You never know,” Bruce says as he slings the cape over his arm. “Sit up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Dick groans, still face-down, his voice muffled.

“Tough,” Bruce counters. “Sit up, or I will make you.”

Dick doesn’t move an inch.

“Dick.”

Dick buries his face further into his pillow.

“I warned you,” Bruce says as he wraps both hands around Dick’s torso and bodily heaves him up.

Dick, because he is a menace when he is this tired, just slumps back over like a puppet that just got its strings cut.

“Unbelievable,” Bruce mutters as he lets Robin’s cape flutter to the floor and grabs at Dick again.

“Go ’way. ’M tired.”

Bruce levels him a very unimpressed look that Dick doesn’t see because his eyes are firmly shut. “Fine, if you want to sleep like this, Alfred will just have to change the sheets again,” he pauses, “even though he just changed them two days ago. I’m sure he’ll be so pleased with the extra work –”

“Ugh!” Dick pushes himself into what might charitably be called a sitting-position. He’s listing almost 90 degrees to his left side and so slouched over, Bruce can’t see what he’s doing with his hands as they fumble with his uniform top.

“Here,” Bruce says as he falls into an easy crouch and reaches over to help, “let me.” He makes quick work of the hidden fastens and slides the whole thing off Dick’s now limp arms. “There,” he says as Dick falls back against the bed, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Dick hums in agreement, all of his fight now gone.

Bruce just smiles as he reaches for the duvet at the end of the bed and tucks Dick in. “Sleep well, Robin.” He hesitates before carding a hand through Dick’s hair.

“’Night, Dad.”

* * *

It takes Bruce an embarrassingly long time to leave Dick’s room, long after Dick’s breaths evened out with deep sleep. Only his arm, still dislocated, jolts him out of his trance with a particularly fierce throb of pain.

In the morning, Dick only sleeps in until ten.

“Good morning,” Bruce says as Dick appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking far more awake than he usually does at this hour.

“Bruce,” Dick says stiffly as he takes his usual seat.

“Master Dick,” Alfred says, appearing out of nowhere to fill his glass with orange juice. 

“Hi, Alfie,” Dick says, subdued.

“We weren’t expecting you for some hours more,” Alfred tuts. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Yeah.” Dick sneaks a glance at Bruce before he continues, “I slept fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Alfred says, patting Dick’s arm as he leaves to put bread in the toaster.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks.

“Fine.”

Bruce turns to Dick, his concern growing at Dick’s uncharacteristically taciturn responses. “How are your knees?”

“Fine.”

Alarmed, Bruce leans in. “What’s wrong, Dick? Tell me.”

Dick inhales a sharp breath, and Bruce nearly has a heart attack. Eventually, Dick says, “I called you ‘Dad’ last night.”

Bruce blinks. “You did,” he says slowly.

“I didn’t mean to,” Dick rushes to say. 

Bruce swallows, his throat tightening with disappointment. “I understand –”

“I know – I know I’m not your kid,” Dick stumbles over his words as his cheeks turn an impressive shade of red, dimples nowhere to be seen. “I’m not your son. I’m just your ward, and there’s a difference. I know that. I’m just – I’m sorry. I was so tired last night, and I wasn’t thinking – I didn’t mean to call you that. I know you’re not my dad,” he finishes, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce listens as Dick lets it all out, mentally scrambling to make sense of his very confusing child. 

Into the loaded silence, the toast pops, and they all jump. 

Eventually, Bruce starts, “I admit, you caught me off guard last night.”

Over Dick’s shoulder, Alfred shoots him a don’t muck this up glare as he deposits toast, jam, and a butter knife in front of Dick.

Dick ducks his head, shoulders hunching over his plate. 

“But I can’t say your actions last night deserve any sort of apology,” Bruce says, reaching out to tap Dick on the hand. “I didn’t presume to think you thought of me as your dad, but there’s no way on Earth I wouldn’t ever welcome it, chum.”

Dick’s head snaps up. 

“You had a father, a wonderful one by all accounts,” Bruce says, his tone solemn. “I don’t want to take his place. It would be an insult to his memory.”

Dick squints at him, a slow smile breaking over his face. “How old are you, B?” he asks, his tone all faux-innocence as his grin widens. “You know loads of kids have two dads now, right?”

Bruce puts his head in his hands.

[tgmsunmontue]

I'd know you anywhere - 1/5

Set when Hangman first meets Rooster. Bradley and Bradford Bradshaw are twins. Most people know this. Some people need to be brought up to speed. Quickly.

Explicit out the gate. Also an everyone is alive AU because I need the softness when I’ve got two other fics on the go with DADT and canon deaths.

…            …            …

                Bradley arches his back, presses his body into the hands making their way down his body. He doesn’t usually fall into bed with guys when he’s only just met them, he’s usually a wine and dine, take things slow, get to know them first sort of guy. But Seresin definitely hadn’t seemed to want that pace, and Bradley hadn’t found any reason to not just let it happen. He can be spontaneous when it suits him.

                They’d played pool, flirted with each other for over three hours, stroking the pool cue suggestively, pressing and brushing their bodies against each other accidentally before Seresin had invited him back to his place; well after Phoenix had muttered about him getting a room and not sticking around for a floor show.

                “What’s your name Bradshaw?” Seresin asks, lips moving against his neck and his fingers pull at Bradley’s shirt, tugging it out from where it was neatly tucked into his pants.

                “Brad… oh fuck… Bradley. God that feels good,” Bradley says, but Seresin is pulling back, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

                “Bradley Bradshaw?”

                Bradley groans and hides his face in the crook of his arm, lets his hips roll against Jake’s, hoping to distract him.

                “Yeah. You don’t know the half of it,” Bradley mutters, because he’s not bringing up his idiotic twin brother while he’s having sex. “Come on. Don’t stop.”

                “Think I’ll just call you baby, that okay?”

                “Yeah. Yeah anything…”

                “And I’m not going to stop. That okay?”

                “Yeah,” Bradley says with a laugh.

                Then they’re both shoving their remaining clothes off, and they’re both sweaty, the heat not helping. Seresin’s got lube on his hand, encircling both their cocks as they rub and thrust against each other; lying on their sides and facing each other so they can still kiss. It’s hot and messy, hotter and messier than usual with the summer heat, but it feels so goddamn good and he groans into it.

                “Jake… my name’s Jake by the way. Thanks for asking.”

                Bradley laughs breathlessly, murmurs the name back against his naked skin and then kisses him, saying the name over and over.

                “Good, well, I do need to know what name to say when I come…”

                “Mmm,” Jake hums, his hand and hips moving in tandem. “Well, I’m not calling out Bradley Bradshaw. Sounds ridiculous.”

                “Just Bradley’s fine…”

                “So is baby. Fuck you’re hot.”

                “You’re not hard on the eyes either,” Bradley says, and he lets his eyes roam over all the naked skin he can see, tan lines on his arms and neck, eyes dark with arousal, lips swollen from kissing, little patch of stubble Jake’s missed when shaving and he licks over it. He wraps his hand over Jake’s, glad he’s left-handed and that this can work. Applies a little more pressure and speed, close to coming after the hours of continuous foreplay and now hot and fast freefall toward coming.

                There’s nothing more than the hard-fast-urgent movement of their hands as they both race toward coming, a race that they will both win and he groans into Jake’s mouth, kisses him with teeth, bites and sucks his bottom lip and grunts as he comes, then feels Jake come as well, adding to the slick slide between their bodies which will be gross when he thinks about it in a few moments once the high of his orgasm eases a little. Right now though it feels good, great even, and he hums appreciatively under his breath; feels like he’s done a good job when Jake lets out a little huff of laughter when he grabs one of his ass cheeks with a sticky hand and grinds them together more gently just to enjoy the feeling of them coming down together. They continue to kiss, using a wadded up shirt to wipe themselves up a little and he wonders if Seresin, Jake, is angling for another round. He’s definitely not averse to it.

                “Fuck I needed that. Thank you…”

                It’s Bradley’s turn to huff a laugh.

                “Yeah, it was a real hardship.”

                “Mmm. Something was hard…”

                He laughs again, shifts closer and kisses him some more, feels the slick slide of sweat covered skin and wishes he could stay the night. Except he can’t.

                “I’ve got to go. If I’m not back my brother is going to worry. Or get me in trouble somehow,” Bradley says, because Ford would totally tell their parents, and he can’t deal with either of them right now. And he’s fucked if they tell Mav or Ice.

                “You want a shower?” Jake asks, and he makes it very clear that it would be with company, kissing up the line of his jaw.

                “Quick one.”

                “No promises.”

                The shower is not short, the warm water running out but the cooler water feels good against his overheated skin as he watches Jake get on his knees and suck him off. He’s really glad there aren’t neighbors close by, his shout a little loud and Jake looks really fucking smug. Bradley immediately wants to return the favor only to find Jake’s apparently one for multi-tasking and jerked himself off while blowing him. That kind of competency is hot, but he’s still a little disappointed and Jake kisses him, tells him to stop pouting.

                He takes the proffered towel and dries himself quickly, Jake putting a little distance between them now he’s clearly gotten the second round he was angling for. He pulls on his underwear and pants, they’re crinkled all to hell and he grimaces, knows time with an iron is in his future.

                “Ugh,” Bradley looks at his shirt, damp with sweat and covered with come. He hadn’t been paying attention at all and he cannot put that on. He looks up to find Jake smirking at him, holding out a clean shirt.

                “Here…”

                “Thanks,” Bradley says, shrugging it on. Sure it’s not got his name on the chest, but he’s only going to his base accommodation. Wearing someone else’s shirt is still far better than not wearing a shirt at all. He’s not working, in fact it had been unusual for him to even be wearing his khakis yesterday. Jake has only just pulled on clean underwear, clearly preparing to just go to sleep, although Bradley wonders if he’ll change the sheets after he leaves.

                “Give me your phone…” Bradley says, holding his hand out expectantly, and Jake’s eyebrow goes up again and Bradley really shouldn’t find that as attractive as he does. He steps close and kisses him again, takes the phone out of Jake’s hand.

                “What do you want my phone for?”

                “I’m putting my number in. And then I’m sending myself a message so I’ve got your number… Hope that’s okay.”

                “Yeah. Of course. You want to do this again?”

                “I want to do more than this. Dinner. Dates. All the romancing I usually do before I have sex with someone.”

                “You want to bother with that when you’ve already had the sex?”

                “Of course I do… wanna treat you right.”

                “I wanna have more sex,” Jake says, and he’s grinning up at him and Bradley can’t resist kissing him again.

                “That can be arranged too.”

                “Glad to hear it.”

PART TWO

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Adoption?

general masterlist | Freefall: A Series

inspired by Ollie's rookie debut and him attaching himself to Charles for that race weekend

"I want to adopt him."

"Mon amour, we can't just adopt an 18 year old who's father is actively in the garage," Charles tries to explain, although I will officially take none of that.

"Ollie!" The poor kid jumps upon hearing my voice, not expecting to be acknowledged during this little downtime. He smiles, though, regardless of the scare, and makes his way over to Carlo, Charles, and me.

"Hi Ms.Earnhardt," Oh he's adorable.

But it doesn't stop me from crossing my arms, standing with a pose of disappointment. "Ollie, we've talked about this last season. You don't need to call me Ms.Earnhardt, Lynnleigh or Lynn is good enough."

He's blushing now, brightly nodding along. "Right, yes, Lynnleigh. And hi Charles, Carlos, glad to see you're out of the hospital!"

Oh he's so sweet.

"Ollie, can I ask you a question?"

"Mon amour, no-"

Charles gets no time to finish his thought, because I know it'll just be him trying to stop me. "Can Charlie and I adopt you?"

And here comes the look of shock on the two men and the boy's face.

"Can you- what?" Ollie isn't the only person to pause, Carlos' thick brows raising in question while the Ferrari crew around us slow, giving me the look of an animal in a zoo.

Peculiar and entertaining.

"Can Charlie and I adopt you?" I repeat, smiling brightly as Charles pulls me under his arm, shaking his head as his hand clamps down over my mouth.

"I'm sorry about her, it's the American in her."

Ollie just laughs awkwardly at his dismissal, "Uh, I mean I do have parents."

Moments like these, I curse Charlie's strength because it genuinely does make removing his hand from my mouth more difficult, no matter how much I adore his strong arms wrapped around me.

But I manage, his arm dropping to rest around my waist and link with his other hand on my hip.

"Ollie," I start, making sure my voice is soft and mellow. "I don't mean for us to legally adopt you, kiddo. I mean like, can we be your paddock parents?"

"So- you don't want to adopt me adopt me, just like, actually no, I'm still confused. What's happening?"

"In exchange for one hug every race, I will bring you snacks and keep you entertained if you get bored. And Charlie will mentor you."

"When did I offer this?" Charles's question is whispered in my ear, not out of refusal but instead of confusion.

He gets a kiss in return, no answer, and just nods, accepting this consolation.

Glancing back to Ollie, he looks excited and my heart jumps.

"So I get to keep my parents and have an extra pair for race weekends?" Oh this is so going where I want it to.

"Exactly!" I exclaim, tapping Charles's chest and getting an oomph. "See! He gets it!"

"Yes, yes, mon ange excité (my excitable angel), I can see he is understanding your crazy." Cue another tap to his stupidly toned chest.

"Ignore Charles, he doesn't get it," I dismiss, the young boy chuckling brightly, curls bouncing as he nods.

"I think I'd enjoy this," The teen agrees, putting his hand out to shake my own while Carlos guffaws at what he's seeing. "You're got yourself a deal!"

I can't help the cheer the slips out as I shake his hand, quickly turning around to look up to Charles. "Charlie, we've acquired our first grid kid!"

Kissing my lips, he can't help the smile that takes over seeing how happy this makes not only me, but the rookie who had been vibrating with nerves over his rookie debut. "Would you look at that."

It's then that Ollie's father walks by, the teen seeing him and getting even more joyful.

He's pulling us into a group hug before I can even process what's happening before running away, following his father.

"Dad! I have new paddock parents!"

"Vous êtes adorable (you're adorable)."

"I don't know what you're saying, but I love you too."

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {4}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: Try as you might, you can’t stay away from Max for too long. Warnings: criminal activities, implied smut WC: 2.8k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five

It was official, you were insane. That had to be the reason why you found your way back to Monaco. 

The last month had seemed more like a year and every single day had dragged out as you tried to keep yourself distracted by moving from place to place. But nothing worked. Max consumed your waking thoughts and invaded your dreams. 

Your freefall through Europe had started in Norway since it had been the first flight leaving the country after you finally retrieved your go bag from the safe house in Camden Town. You tried not to look back as you searched for a place to start over, forcing yourself to move forward even though your legs felt like lead. 

Sweden came next, then Denmark, but neither country had what you were looking for either so you crossed into Germany. The luxury apartment in Cologne had everything you needed to have a fresh start as a nobody and you should have been comfortable, but it too didn’t feel like home. So you had locked it up and got back in your car, hitting the highway and letting fate decide where you ended up.

You mindlessly walked with your head down to shelter your phone from the rain that drizzled upon the cobbled streets, your thumb swiping through the hundred of pictures you had taken with Max. You had only stopped in the random city because you could no longer ignore your rumbling stomach but when you saw the country flag hanging from a war memorial statue you froze.

You looked around, paying more attention to your surroundings and not the memories the photos held, as you struggled to remember even passing through the Netherlands before reaching Belgium. Everywhere you turned you saw signs you had missed, the city name surrounding you: Hasselt.

 How did you end up here?

Max was the answer. You were a victim of your own mind and it had been leading you back to him this entire time. But this still wouldn’t be enough. You didn’t want to be where he was born, you wanted to be where he was. 

You wanted to make things right. You needed to make things right.

So there you were, walking along the private street lined with perfectly trimmed hedges towards a wrought iron gate that would never stop you from reaching his door. But the man stationed in front of it might.

“Shit,” you cursed as you turned down the driveway of his neighbour. You hadn’t factored in that he may have been given a protective detail as a result of your actions. It didn’t change your end goal though, merely the plans of getting there.

It had been a few years since you last scaled a fence but you managed to pull yourself up the one on the back boundary and not break a leg when you jumped down the other side. It would have been much easier to sneak around at night but you weren’t patient enough to wait that long but you did keep to the shadows as you reached the house and tested the backdoor. 

You hardly breathed when the latch clicked and the handle turned. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet suburb and you froze as you waited to hear the shouts of alarm, but they never came. All you heard was the loud purring of Achilles as he padded across the kitchen floor to brush against your legs.

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so big,” you whispered as you picked him up and snuggled him to your chest, a weight lifting from your conscience knowing Max had kept his promise. “I missed you too.”

You placed him back on the floor with one last scratch behind his ears before silently rounding the corner and ducking past the front window and tiptoeing up the stairs. You had spent too many nights in this house to count, made too many memories, to just walk through it without feeling the ache that came from missing it.

You skipped the stair that always creaked and stepped to straighten the picture of him and his mom on the wall. It was your fault it was on a lean, your shoulder had knocked it one night when you fell asleep on the couch and Max had carried you up to bed.

The only thing that had changed in the house was the door to the storage room that now had a gaping hole in it. Questions flooded your head at the possibilities ranging from Max lashing out in a fit of rage and putting his fist through it to a more worrying thought of someone else doing the damage. Was that why he had security? Did someone attack him?

Your hands shook at the thought and you clenched them into fists as you swore you would find out what happened, and make sure they paid.

The anger that had quickly filled you evaporated the instant you heard his voice and your feet carried you towards the sound you had missed dearly.

You watched him for a minute from the side door to the corner office, taking in the exhaustion that saturated him from his wild hair and dark bags under his eyes to the unkempt beard he was sporting.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled to one of the Red Line racers and the lifeless tone cut through the excitement you had felt when you spotted him in his simulator, his eyes focused on the screens in front of him.

“When did you become the liar?”

Max’s hands tore his headset off as he spun to find you, an apparition he could hardly believe was standing in his home. Time slowed as you stared at each other and the very air seemed to freeze as you connected with those blue eyes that had haunted your nights. No photo could ever quite capture the true shade of azure they were, you had relied upon your memory but even that did not do them justice.

“Hi.” You broke the silence and the moment in time was shattered, sense coming back to Max as he pulled the power plug from his simulator to cut the live stream before jumping to his feet.

“How did you get in here, Y/N?” he asked, looking out the window that overlooked the front yard to see the security guard still stationed at the gate.

You shrugged and looked down at your feet. “The backdoor was unlocked.”

“I have so many questions.”

You had expected as much as you went to the adjoining room and took a seat on the edge of his bed while he leaned against the set of drawers. 

“I can’t promise answers to everything, but I won’t lie to you, Max,” you swore as you buried your hands in your pockets. 

“That’s more than I thought I would get,” he muttered before taking a deep breath and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Fine, an easy one to start with. Would a locked door have stopped you?”

Your shoulders bounced with a laugh. Reaching the back of your head, you pulled a long hair pin out and eyed the curved hook that you held out to him. “Not a standard one at least.”

He shook his head but didn’t seem surprised by the answer. “How did you learn that? How did you become…whatever you are?”

“That’s not as easy to answer,” you admitted as you pushed the pin back into your hair. “There was this foster mum, a particularly nasty woman. She liked the money the state gave her but not so much the kids. She would lock us in the attic and as the oldest it was up to me to sneak out and steal food, clothes, money. Turns out I was pretty good at it.”

“Fucking hell,” Max said quietly as his hands fell at his sides and you saw the pity in his eyes. You didn’t want pity.

“It is what it is. My turn for a question,” you said as you pointed to the hallway. “What the fuck happened to the door?”

“What? Oh, that,” he said as a small smile appeared on his face, instantly making your heart feel lighter. “Achilles got trapped in there and I had to break him out, poor little guy must have been terrified.” The smile disappeared as he realised that had probably been how you felt as a child and he swallowed deeply before crossing the room and sitting beside you on the bed. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he confessed as he rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. “Why did you come back?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you too.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out the small thumb drive you had prepared on your journey to Monaco. “This is everything you need to destroy Ferrari,” you said as you placed it into his hand and closed his fingers around it.

“What is this?” he asked as you spotted a dress between the almost closed doors to the wardrobe. You rose to your feet and opened it wider to see your clothes that had been left at his place on numerous occasions hung neatly beside his. “Y/N, what is this?”

You trailed your fingers over the thick motorcycle jacket he would wear, the one you would rest our helmet on as you tucked in behind him to shelter from the wind on a ride. “Correspondence, payments, data reports, everything to prove what they hired me for,” your voice almost failed as emotion thickened your throat, “and my testimony.”

The air shifter as Max stood up and you turned to see his brows pinched together. “But that would mean…”

“I’m done running, Max.”

“So that’s it? You’re done?” he shouted as he raked his hands through his hair. “You’re giving up and happy to spend the rest of your life in prison?”

“I’m not happy about any of this,” you shot back as you took a step closer and tipped your head back to look him in the eyes. “But I can’t live with the guilt of knowing I ruined your dream.”

“My dream was to be world champion, and I already won that twice,” he stated as he opened his hand, letting the thumb drive clatter on the floor. “I don’t care if I lose every race this year, liefje, I’m not going to lose you again.”

The drive crunched under his heel as he destroyed the evidence his team needed before he pulled you into his arms. Your head fell forward as relief crashed into you and your fingers desperately clung to the back of his shirt as you held him close.

“I thought you would hate me,” you whispered as your tears wet his shirt.

“I wanted to. I tried to, but,” he breathed into your hair as his arms encircled your wait. “Ik hou van jou.”

You had lost all hope of hearing those words on his lips again so it took a moment to process that had really said them to you, but the instant your brain caught up so did your body. You were already rising on your toes as you threw your arms around his neck and crashed your lips with a sound of delight. 

“I love you too,” you promised between the gasping breaths you took as his kiss trailed down your neck and he guided you backwards. 

Your legs hit the bed as he pulled your shirt off and it fell from his hands as his eyes darkened while they drank in the sight before him. The dutch you had learned from him was limited but you recognised the word for beautiful before his lips were on your skin where they belonged once again.

“What happens now?” 

Your head was resting on Max’s chest, one leg draped over his as you listened to his heartbeat. You had been lost to the sensation of his fingers running up and down your spine that you didn’t comprehend the question until his touch disappeared. 

“I suppose I should have a chat with your boss.” His eyebrows lifted at your suggestion and you chuckled as you trailed your fingertips over the soft curls below his navel, the blond hair catching the afternoon sun that spilled into the room. “I’m out of a job and a girl needs to eat, maybe I can put my skills to some good use?”

“No,” he shook his head adamantly. “No more secret agent spy shit. You don’t have to do that anymore, I’ll take care of you.”

You smiled against his warm skin as you pressed a kiss to the centre of his chest and peered up at him. “I was thinking more along the lines of security work, keeping the secrets safe instead of stealing them. Atonement for my sins.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure Christian will want you in a mile radius of the factory, or England,” he laughed and the sound only fed your smile.

“I can be pretty convincing.” You slipped out of his embrace and grabbed your clothes from the floor as he sat up and made to follow. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you going?” He frowned as you pulled your jeans on and threw your shirt on next as you left the room.

“To talk to the moron at the gate!”

“Woah, hold on,” Max called as he rushed out of the bed, a heavy thud and a curse telling you he caught himself up in the tangle of bedsheets. “Y/N!”

“He had one job, Max, one job.” You skipped down the stairs and his feet hit the landing at the top. “Anyone bastard could have snuck past and gotten into your house.”

You threw the door open and broke into a sprint as Max raced to catch up, his shout alerting the guard to your presence.

“You!” you growled as you pointed a finger at the man.

“You!” he shouted in alarm at the same time, his hand reaching for the phone on his hip.

“Stop, both of you!” Max demanded as he caught you around the waist and planted you behind at his still shirtless back. “Paolo, she’s not a threat.”

“Debatable,” you muttered as you crossed your arms. “I’m not a threat to you, but he clearly isn’t doing a great job at protecting you. Here, give me that,” you didn’t wait for an answer as you swiped the phone off Paolo, Christian’s number already on speed dial and connecting.

“Paolo, everything alright?” Christian answered.

“I’ve gone by many names, but Paolo isn’t one,” you said with a smile before you heard a door shut loudly in the background and the sound of leather creaking as he sat down on his office chair.

“What is it you want?”

“This isn’t just about me, the question is what do we both want?” You looked at Max as he stood stoically between you and the angry security guard, the dominance in his stance making you hot and bothered all over again. “I’m looking right at him, Mr Horner. So I suggest you pick up the beautiful fountain pen your lovely wife gave you for your anniversary, walk over to the planner on the wall behind you and find the time to meet with me.”

“Put Max on the phone,” Christian demanded quietly.

An offended scoff escaped your throat at the request. “I haven’t hurt him, I’m trying to help you keep him safe. I’ve already proven that the people you hire to protect him aren’t up to par.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Fine. Tell him when and where you want to meet.”

You tossed the phone to Max and walked back inside the house, climbing straight back into the sheets that were still warm and smelled like him. It was the feeling of being wrapped in a cocoon of safety and the sense of home you had been searching for since you were a child. It had been right here.

It was the soft sigh that had you blinking your sleepy eyes open to see him leaning in the doorway, a playful smile on his lips. “You’re insane.” He pushed off the door jamb and pulled back the sheets to join you under the blankets, your bodies moulding together like two puzzle pieces.

“Says the man that goes 200 mph in a tin can.”

“We must both be insane,” he chuckled as he kissed your temple, “because we’re heading to the UK in the morning.”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing your reflection in his eyes like glancing into a perfectly serene lake, endless depths hidden within them. You took his hand and traced the life line that slashed across his palm before following the love line that branched off it. You had danced your way over moral lines your entire life but now you had found the lines you wouldn’t cross.

“I told you I could be convincing.”

Click here for post five.

Tagging: @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Aiden is not ok. (Also known as I shook a Cat Witcher and trauma fell out).

Aiden trembled from a mixture of cold and fear as the wind buffeted the top of the high tree, fingers digging into the bark as he hugged the thick trunk as best as he could, the movement impeded by large armour and shirt sleeves which fell back around his elbows, he knew that if he lowered his hands the fabric would fall to cover them completely in the same way the cuffs of too big trousers pooled around his bare feet, his medallion hung heavy around his neck and dangled down to his stomach.

He stared out at the tightrope that seemed to go on forever - he couldn't even see the other end! He risked a glance down and immediately wished he hadn't. Dyn Marv was just a series of specks underneath him, any noise coming from the other inhabitants disappearing before it reached him. Had it always been this far, this high? No...this wasn't right.

"Well?!"

He turned his head to see Treyse - as unimpressed and imposing as ever and riddled with arrows piercing him from every possible angle- glaring down at him, "Stop stalling, boy. You're the last and everyone's sick of fucking waiting on you. Don't disappoint me."

Aiden shook his head mutely, not wanting to lower his gaze from that of the Grandmaster. What were the chances someone down below would hear him if he screamed? That Guxart would hear him? The Cats second in command could be reasoned with at least and Aiden knew the man liked him to some degree. He'd convince Treyse to let him come back down!

As if reading his thoughts Treyse rolled his eyes, an air of impatience growing, "Guxart ain't coming brat. He's got better things to do than keep pulling your arse out of the fire. Now, go!"

"Please, I can't!" Aiden pleaded in a child's tremor. It was too high and too far and he was in clothes for someone taller and broader than him....he'd never make it.

"It'll go worse for you if you don't." Treyse growled, eyes flashing dangerously and Aiden knew from experience he wasn't joking. He'd personally felt the others switch too many times. Fighting back tears, Aiden turned to look back out at the treetops and took his first step onto the coarse rope.

Aiden could hear voices coming from below him now and he strained to try and make out what they were saying - were they cheering him on or hoping he'd come tumbling down? He couldn't tell, it all sounded so jumbled and muffled. He heard a series of shouts and shrieks when he rocked dangerously thanks to a particularly strong gust of wind before righting himself and continuing to shuffle forwards, not daring to fully lift his feet incase they got caught up in too much fabric and made him fall.

He could see the other end! Not far now. Not far...

Aiden froze and fought back a scream as another figure came into view. Jad smirked at him from where he was leaning against the trunk of the tree Aiden was heading towards, a mean looking axe swinging idly in his hand, a thick line of red running from ear to ear. As soon as he made eye contact that smirk grew into a toothy, self satisfied grin - the last expression Aiden had seen before the pain of an arrow followed by darkness - as he hefted the axe properly. And promptly bought it down on the rope, cutting though it in one swing as if it was a length of sewing thread and not hemp as thick as Aiden's child-skinny arm.

This time, Aiden did scream as he felt himself start to freefall....

Aiden sat bolt upright, breathing heavily as he rapidly took in his surroundings. He was indeed lying on the forest floor, but in a bedroll next to a small fire, the hands he held up in front of him were those of an adult, scarred and callused. He ran them over his face and fell backwards, focusing on his breathing and the sweat drying around his temples.

"Aiden?" Lambert asked sleepily from next to him, concerned overtaking sleepiness as he started to come fully awake, "What happened?"

"It's nothing, just a dream. I'm sorry I woke you." Lambert continued to stare at him unblinking. Aiden leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Go back to sleep love, I'm fine."

Lambert didn't push him on the obvious lie as he pressed a kiss of his own to the scar which ran over Aiden's now missing eye before gently pulling the Cat into his arms. Aiden went willingly, he knew he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight but he'd rather spend it with his face buried in the soft fabric of his lover's shirt than staring up at the canopy of trees caging them in.

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Freefall

Emma Myers x fem!famous!actress!reader

Summary: Wednesday Season two's filming starts, and Emma can't help but find a certain new college of hers very attractive.

a/n: Well this took a heckin' long time. Sorry, I just had to hide from my government because I accidentally stole state secrets. Only surfaced up so I could upload this. Hope you enjoy!

warning: little bit of angst, jelousy, little fluffy (is this even a warning?), bad writing, not proofread, english is still not my native language so sorry for any mistakes, famous reader, oblivious Emma AND reader

ler me know if I left something out!

“So, basically this is basically it. What do you think?”

Emma has been showing Jasmine around set all day. Even though early setbacks, they have been bonding and overall having a great time together. This season’s set was way bigger than the last, yet the layout was similar, so Emma knew her way around. Many of the staff were still being hired, thus, she volunteered to show new people around.

“Way bigger than what I expected!” the curly haired woman exclaimed. “And everyone is so nice! To be honest, I’m a bit overwhelmed…”

“That’s natural” Emma nodded. ”First when I got here last season, my head was spinning like crazy. You’ll get used to it.”

Jasmin’s mouth was still slightly hanging open, in an awestruck state. Then she mischievously smiled and looked over at Emma. She was gleaming, and even though Emma has only known her for three hours, she knew she wanted to ask something.

“Out with it” she smiled back.

“Is it true, that the Y/N is going to our colleague?”

Even the mention of your name was enough for Emma for her smile to grow bigger. The last couple years, you have burst onto scene, claiming every award you’ve been nominated for, and you deserved every one of them. Somehow every movie you’ve been in, it was as if you owned the scene. Some films got big just because of your acting, but you acted in some that were famous even before you got added to the cast.

Emma was entirely and utterly enthralled with you, and it wasn’t even an understatement. When she got word from Jenna, that she had asked you to be a part of Wednesday season two, and you said yes, she nearly fainted.

Jenna, as the co-producer of the new season, had pulled some strings and invited a lot of actors and actresses she has been working with in the past to be a part of Wednesday. Jasmin and you were almost the only ones, who’d been available, and would want to take part in the making of the new season.

Then she realized she needed to answer a question, and quickly nodded.

“Man, she is just simply great!” she said, and then continued her rant about you for five minutes, whilst the only thing Emma could do, was to nod along, whilst leading the woman to the director’s cabin. She couldn’t disagree with anything she said.

“I’ve also heard she might be your love interest…” Jasmin mischievously said, leaning in and grinning at the smaller woman.

“What? Wher- N- No that’s ridiculous” Emma stuttered. “I would neve-“ she got cut of by her companions’ intense laughter. She blinked in confusion, little scared. “What’s so funny?”

“I meant in the show!” Jasmin laughed out.

Emma mentally facepalmed herself, then smacked the other’s shoulder. Then realisation settled in her, as Jasmin’s words sank in. No. It couldn’t be… But that would mean, you. And her. Would have to. The thought made Emma unintentionally smile.

As the two continued their way towards Tim’s base of operations, conversation flew between them easily. Jasmin would not let go of the topic, and would retrial the chatter towards you, whenever Emma would try to change the subject. She had quickly found about Emma’s interest in you and would constantly tease her with it.

They didn’t even realise that they have reached their destination, until a loud shriek came from the trailer. “I would be her what?!”

The two looked at each other, and without a word, got closer as to hear what’s happening inside. Not a lot could be made out, but Emma could hear two people talking inside. She looked over to Jasmin, whose eyes were wide, a huge smile plastered on her face. Seeing her clueless partner, she whispered a quick “Let’s get inside” towards her, and before Emma could do something, dragged her inside.

“Jenna, I just can’t do that!” you said, your distress clearly audible in your voice. You had your back towards the new arrivals, not noticing them. “It’s not like when I did it with you, she is- I’m…” You didn’t finish the sentence, as Jenna signed the arrival of Emma and Jasmin.

“Sorry, to interrupt, but we finished our tour, and Emma here doesn’t really know where my trailer is, so we just came in to ask for help?” Jasmin said with too big of a smile to be telling the truth. Emma knew for a fact she was talking bullshit, as her trailer was one of the first places, she has shown to her. Yet all she could do was blink like fish, as you slowly turned on your heel towards them.

Emma felt like a mouse on the Mars; breathless and small. The Y/N was standing before her, sunglasses in hair, wearing a leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, black denims and combat boots completing your outfit. You were gorgeous, your sparkling eyes and light-brown, shoulder-blade length hair highlighting your face. If she could look away from you, she could have seen her friend throwing a knowing smile at her from across the room, but she couldn’t take her eyes of your perfect features.

“No problem at all” Jenna said reassuringly. “We were just discussing Y/N’s role as Enid’s love interest. Come, I’ll show you to your trailer. It’s so good to see you again! How was your flight?” she asked, like she didn’t just drop a bomb in the room.

You seemed to slightly flinch at her statement. Emma’s heart skipped a beat. Jasmin smiled and put an arm around Jenna, both leaving the room, leaving you and a breathless Emma inside.

After staring at each other for a while, you cleared your throat and greeted her. “Hi” your voice was uncertain, shy even. Not what she expected from you. “I’m- “

“Y/N, yes. Hi, I’m-“

“Emma” you gulped. “Yes. Huge fan here” you gestured at yourself, a weak smile appearing on your lips. Why did they have to be so full and red?

Emma’s heart fluttered at your words. “Really? Me too!” she smiled back. “I mean, of you. Not me, that would be a little egotistical, wouldn’t it? Hilarious even” she laughed to herself. “You’ve been amazing in Dune!”

You finally, genuinely smiled at the mention of the film. “Yeah, that was one of my favourites to shoot. I’ve read the books like a million times before, and when I got asked to play, there was no chance I would turn it down.”

“’He, who controls the spice controls the universe’” Emma quoted, with a deep voice imitating the books. “Shame this line didn’t make it into the movie…”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I was protesting for like three weeks for them to add it, but they denied me! It’s one of the most important quotes and they just cut it! I was outraged” you pouted.

Time flew by as you two raved about the movie and the books, but soon the subject changed to other interests of you and her. As it turned out, you played the drums, and were pretty good at it. After nagging you for a bit, you finally caved in and showed her some of the voice recording you made for yourself, and you really impressed her.

“Have you been shown around yet?” Emma asked, little more hopeful than what she wanted to admit to herself. “The majority of the staff is still being hired, so I volunteered to show new actors around.”

“Please, go ahead!” you smiled at her. “The moment I got here, Tim asked for me and Jenna to hold a meeting. Then he left me and her here, and that’s when you jumped us, so no, I haven’t been shown around yet.”

“Did Jenna say what the number of your trailer is?”

“Yes, I’m in number eleven.”

Oh god. “So, you’re the one who stole my number!” Emma exclaimed. “No worries, I’ll forgive you this once. Also, I’m in the trailer next to it, so we’ll be neighbours.” You beamed at her words. Without thinking, she put an arm around your shoulder as she started to lead you out, but the moment she noticed what she had done, the smaller girl retracked her hand. “Sorry! I’m just- “

“No need to apologize” you settled her. “I don’t mind.”

Emma just glared at you for a moment, butterflies erupting in her stomach at your words. Then she realized she was supposed to show you around, and started the tour once again, her hand finding it’s way back to your shoulder.

-------

It took less than a week to hire the staff, and for everyone to arrive at set. During this short duration Emma and you quickly grew closer, a deep friendship blossoming between you two. Daily banter and hanging out instantly became normal, as you two met up every day. Emma made sure to introduce you to everyone on set who arrived.

Not long after, shooting started and just as last time, it was hard. Everyone swiftly realized that these seven months are going to be just as demanding as the last eight, if not even more so. After the first two weeks, Emma already felt exhausted by work, her only consolation being the nights spent together with you. It became regular for you to come over to her place, and discuss what had happened that day, sometimes putting on a movie in the background.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she started falling. Not even lightly, but blindly and deeply stumbling into the pit that you resembled. Your tinkling laugh, making her laugh with you every time, your bright smile filling her world, giving purpose for waking up every day. The softest touch from you made her day, and they weren’t even rare.

Jasmin quickly caught on and started teasing her about it. With Jenna having to attend a lot of managing meetings they couldn’t meet that much, but the curly haired woman quickly filled the space left by her. She became one of Emma’s closest friends, beside you, of course.

As the weeks passed, the whole cast got back to its last year traditions; late night parties, getting drunk as hell, and blaring some music in the background. At first, you were glued to Emma’s side, but as time passed you slowly became comfortable with everyone around set.

“Spin!” everybody chanted, as Jasmin sat her phone back down behind her after she texted her ex that she misses her. “Spin! Spin! Spin!”

Two months into shooting Georgie was the one to hold the weekly party night. Once he has shown everyone around, the enjoyments started. Alcohol was quickly brought forth and everyone eased their minds.

Now you were comfortably sat beside Emma, raising your fist as you chanted with everyone. You were in an oversized black sweater, and shorts. Your eyes sparkled with joy, and you were gleaming with the night’s energy. Emma lowered her voice as she took you in, wanting to burn this memory into her brain. You couldn’t be more beautiful.

The crowd cheered as Jasmin spined the empty vodka bottle. As you did as well, Emma reevaluated her last thought; you were even more beautiful now. The glass clattered slower and slower, and soon, it stopped pointing at…

“Y/N!” Jasmin smiled mischievously, as if she was looking upon her pray. “Truth or dare?”

Emma could feel you stiffen beside her a little, but you quickly composed yourself, and looked back upon her, your eyes taunting her to do her worst. “Truth” you said, chin raised high.

“Is it true, you realised you aren’t straight after your kiss scene with Jenna?” she asked immediately after. Emma felt her heart clench, and her breath catch in her throat. She looked around the room, and saw the brunette blushing, whilst the others either chuckled or woo-d at the question. Wait, you weren’t straight?!

You narrowed your eyes at the other actress, then sighed in defeat. You took a shot before answering, that was laying beside you at the floor. “Yes” you admitted.

“Was it because-“

“One, question, miss” you cut her off, voice low as you grabbed the bottle and spun it. Everybody laughed. Except Emma.

She still couldn’t get over the fact you weren’t straight.

Yet a pesky thought took root in her brain. Did you have a thing for Jenna? You came out right after your movie with her made it into the theatres, and you haven’t dated anyone since. At least not publicly.

After a few rounds, the game came to an end. Everyone was either tired, drunk, or already asleep. There was no way, adequate work could be done the next day.

You and Emma stumbled to your trailer together, talking and laughing. Originally Jasmin and Hunter were also with you but had already made it to their trailer. The departing woman threw Emma a knowing smile and a wink when she left.

Even though your trailers were next to each other, Emma made sure to walk you the rest of the way. She watched you fumbling with your keys and open the door. She gave you a goodbye hug, and turned around to leave, when she felt your hand grab her.

“Nuh-uh! You’re staying here. Too dangerous for you to make it to your own” you said and tugged her inwards.

“Y/N” she laughed but complied to your pull. “Mine’s literally next door!”

“Don’t care.”

So, there she was, at your place not really knowing what to do. Usually by this time, you departed from one-another to make it to your own bed without collapsing on the floor.

“Isn’t it a bit too late for a movie?” she asked, when she saw you preparing popcorn. Oh, how she hated herself for asking this.

“You got somewhere to be?” you asked back jokingly and threw you the remote control. “Just pick something! I’ll be there in a sec.”

She did as she was told. As the movie started, she made herself comfortable at the end of the couch, leaving you space beside her. Yet, the movie didn’t really concern her that much, more the thoughts of you and Jenna. The internet was exploding with shipping you and her after the movie came out, and Emma couldn’t deny the chemistry that seemed between the two of you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked as you slumped down next to Emma on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She ignored how this simple act of yours made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“I-“ she started sheepishly, as a child caught during ice cream robbery. You weren’t helping either, with your cute, unwavering gaze. “Erm. Nothing really” she managed to say. You looked at her for a few more seconds, then turned to face the screen.

After a few minutes, you snuggled yourself into Emma, which made her breath get caught, and the butterflies return. She knew she was blushing too, and thanked the gods silently, that you couldn’t see her face.

“So, what’s up with you and Jasmin?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Emma furrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you two are very close, and she always makes you laugh…” you sounded unsure and hesitant, which was very new to Emma, coming from you.

“We’re just friends if that’s what you mean” she answered. To your nod, she felt like it was her time to ask, yet she felt like she wouldn’t like the answer. Her heart clenched at the thought. “What about you?” she asked anyway. “Do… you like anyone?”

You fell silent for a moment. Emma started panicking a little, thinking she crossed a line, until you spoke. “I’m just not sure if they like me back…” your voice was weak, and fearful.

Before she got a hold of herself, the next question rolled out. “Is it Jenna?” You stiffened in her hold, and she mentally facepalmed herself. Of course, it was Jenna. Who else would it be? She felt pain in her chest at the thought of you and her together, yet the thought of you being happy, lessened it. Even if only a little. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

You sit up so you can look at her, and she already misses the contact. There is something in your eyes she can’t decipher. But then you simply thank her and lean back into her. She feels strange. She feels bad. She knows she has no right for her heart to clench this painfully. Yet it does.

-----

“What’s with you?” Jasmin looked at Emma curiously.

She was playing her part perfectly, and the now blonde-haired woman had to admit; she looked pretty swell in the Nevermore uniform. Emma knew her lines, she had practised them all the night before, yet the words just wouldn’t come to her. She was just as distracted as Enid was in this scene if not even more so, and there was a good reason for it.

You were standing behind cover with Jenna, talking, laughing, and enjoying your time with her. Ever since the night where she figured out who you were crushing over, she had done a lot to help you. She ignored the part of her which violently wanted to stop her from doing so, but it got harder and harder. Her solution in the last couple weeks was to avoid you as much as possible. It got even harder when she would need to do her scenes with you, as shooting got to the part where Lilith and Enid, Lillith being the character you were playing, got closer and closer to one another. It wasn’t long until the kiss scene and Emma was freaking out.

It wasn’t like you didn’t notice her distancing herself from you, but Emma was just too scared to let you close again. She felt like, the moment you confront her, she would combust and confess everything immediately, so she did everything in her power, to avoid it, even if she knew it wouldn’t be possible for long. She got up earlier, to avoid you and even though it pained her more than anything, she cut of the movie nights and talking with you.

Yet now, as she was standing on set and you were off talking and enjoying yourself with Jenna, she couldn’t help but feel her stomach churning in uncomfortable and unpleasurable ways. She felt both guilty and helpless against it.

“Cut” Tim said a little disappointedly. “Emma, as she said” he continued as he pointed at Jasmin. “What’s whit you? You can’t concentrate, and we can’t shoot a goddamn scene with you.” It was true. She had been like this for almost three to four days now, but only became apparent now, as shooting got to the parts where she was in the main picture.

“Sorry, I’m just really over my head with a few things.”

“Take the day off” he said with a wave of his hand.

“No- But- I can do it, I promise!”

“It’s not that you can’t, it’s that I don’t want you to. You clearly need to sort things out.”

“But-” Emma started protesting, but Tim cut her off.

“Just go!”

Emma sighed in defeat and slumped out the scene. Now she had to deal with her thoughts about you. Great. Just great.

As Emma was walking out, she saw a glimpse of you and immediately changed her direction. She chose the back door exit instead and lengthened her steps. She felt you behind her, but before you could catch up to her, she was out.

Emma stayed in her trailer all day. She felt helpless against being this distracted, helpless against what you made her feel. She felt her heart clench every time you popped in her mind, which was almost constantly. The now familiar feeling of her stomach churning returned, and accompanied her all day, making her even more miserable.

Her absence didn’t go unnoticed. Jasmin, Hunter, Johnna, and Naomi all went to check up on her, but she sent them all away. She couldn’t deal with company right now. She didn’t want to break down before them which she felt impossibly close to.

Then sheknocked. “Hey, Emma” Jenna’s soft voice could be heard from the door. “Please let me in! I just want to talk.”

Emma’s heart clenched even more if that was possible. She hadn’t been nice with Jenna. Not that she was rude, but she avoided her even more than you. She loved Jenna, she really did, but the last couple weeks Emma wished she would just disappear. She knew she had no right to do so. She didn’t want to do so. Yet she did.

“Has someone done something wrong?” the brunette continued. Emma wanted to hug her so badly, tell her no, but she stopped herself. Why did she stop herself? “You’ve been distancing yourself from us and we miss you! I miss you…” her voice was now sorrowful. It broke Emma’s heart. “Have I done something? If-“

The older woman abruptly opened the door and pulled the startled woman into a hug. “No” she spoke, sounding a little scratchy. “It’s not you. It’s me.” Emma felt Jenna returning the hug.

“What’s with you?” the smaller woman asked softly as she stepped one step back.

“It’s-“ she started but forgot what she wanted to say the moment she saw someone behind Jenna. The moment she saw you. “Y/N” she breathed out unconsciously.

Jenna raised a brow. “Y/N?” she asked confused but wearing a smug smile. When she noticed Emma wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, she turned around and her smile grew even larger. “Oh, I see. Well, I’m going to leave you two some space, but don’t think you got out of explaining yourself Myers” she said jokingly and patted her friend’s shoulder. Before walking off, she threw a last smile towards the older actress, and whispered; “Go get her.”

Emma blinked in confusion a few times at the departing Jenna, but as you got closer she shifted her attention towards you. Suddenly, she became hyper aware of her surroundings; of how chilly the air was, how the gathering dark veil clouded the sky. Of how gorgeous you were.

She just stood there, rooted to the ground, speechless and gaping as you quickly got closer. Her back was against her trailer door, and the thought of reaching for the doorknob crossed her mind, but she was frozen in place.

“Emma” you said quietly, as if not believing the word that left your mouth.

“Y/N” Emma said again in a similar tone.

“I-“ you started shy, and unsure. “I wanted to apologize.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “For what?”

“For being too much, for dumping all my mental problems on you, for…” and you just started ranting about all that you’ve done while pacing up and down before her. Emma disagreed with all your statements. You were never too much, your problems never bothered her. She was sure the rest was nonsense as well, but she couldn’t comprehend the words coming out of you. It got all faint as she took in your presence again, felt your smell again could hear your voice again. You were perfect. How could she have done what she had done? It all seemed so pointless, so stupid. How could she be so stupid?

She mindlessly grabbed your arm and stopped you in your tracks. You immediately shut up and looked at her, eyes full of hope and curiosity. Emma opened her mouth, then shut it. No words seemed good enough, worthy enough of you. As she was searching for words, her eyes locked with yours, and her breath caught in her throat. She felt she could spend all her life looking into the depths of them. She wouldn’t mind getting lost in them for all eternity if it would mean you were close to her.

“I’m falling for you.” There it was. She broke. When she recognized what she’d done, it was already too late. She said it out loud. Then she realised how close you were, your face only inches away from hers. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was the fool, I-“

Your lips shut her up. They were so soft, so perfect. More than what she could ever dream for. They tasted like cherry, a taste she could feel herself become addicted to. Her hands drew you closer, pressing your body against hers. The world seemed to disappear between the two of you as you lost yourselves in one-another. Nothing mattered. Just you, moving against her, movements fully synchronized.

“I’m falling for you too” you said and chuckled once you needed to come up for air. Your foreheads were pressed against each other, her hands caressing your cheek. “Damn it! I should have confessed before you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again” Emma breathed out chuckling as well.

The kiss was interrupted by Jasmin’s voice from next to you. “If you lovebirds are done peppering, we have a smaller party today!” she said.

“Jesus don’t do that ever again!” Emma exclaimed. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me for it!” she grinned deviously. “Now chop-chop! Oh, I will also need the two of you to do that again before everyone.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“Well, my dear lovely future wife-of-my-bestie, I have to prove somehow, that half the cast owes me money, don’t I?”

“You betted on us?”

“Since dawn of time! Gawd, if I don’t send Y/N after Jenna, I would have slipped out of the time zone!” she then turned around and proceeded towards today’s party location. “I can’t believe I almost lost money because these two blind doves couldn’t find each other. Man, it sure as hell took them long…” her rant went on, but she fortunately got out of hearing distance.

You chuckled in Emma’s arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Should we help a fellow friend out?”

“I’m thinking we should let her lose.”

“You think you can stop yourself from kissing me every five minutes from now on?” you asked grinning.

Even though she knew you knew the answer, she replied. “No.”

[paperstorm]

Thank you for the tags @honeybee-taskforce @tommy-kinard-buckley @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom

Have a Work Is Published Wednesday for the newest Missing Moment

“I’m sorry I bit your head off, earlier. I’m sorry I said she could come here, I should’ve told my dad to just put her in a hotel room and stay with her himself. He attracts unstable people, he always has, it’s his damn hero complex. I should’ve – ”

“Hey,” Carlos says softly, twisting at the waist so he can brush his knuckles along TK’s cheek. It isn’t until he does that TK realizes there are tears on his face. “If I’m not allowed to make this my fault, neither are you.”

He brushes his thumb underneath TK’s eye, and TK sniffs wetly.

“Okay?” Carlos presses gently.

“Okay,” TK agrees. It’s wishful thinking more than it’s an outright lie, but it doesn’t feel truthful either way.

Carlos leans forward to rest their foreheads together. He cups TK’s face in his hand, placing a kiss next to his nose and sharing breath with him. TK lets his eyes fall closed and tries not to let the tragedy swirling within him make him feel like he’s in a freefall and even Carlos’s strong hands and warm heart aren’t enough to stop him from crashing bloody into the pavement.

After a while, Carlos kisses him again and then extradites himself from TK’s embrace so he can stand. TK watches in curiosity as Carlos moves in the direction of the bathroom, expecting him to close the door of it behind himself but frowning when Carlos doesn’t and then comes back out with something in his hand.

Carlos sits back beside him. Holding TK’s sobriety chip up between his thumb and forefinger, he requests, “Can I keep this?”

TK blinks at him and doesn’t understand. It’s meaningless, now. Mere hours ago it had been the most important thing he owned, and now it’s a trinket with less value than the cost of the metal. “Why?”

Shifting in a little closer, Carlos lets it settle on his palm and holds his hand out where TK can see it. “Because you worked hard for it. Because I loved you so much the day you got it. Remember that? I picked you up from your meeting before we went to your party.”

“I remember.”

“Remember how you dropped it in that parking garage, like a breadcrumb for me to know you’d been there?”

TK nods.

“I could’ve lost you that day. And it’s because of this that I didn’t.” Carlos closes his fist around the small coin. “I will respect it if you want to say no. We’ll throw it out and you can get to work tomorrow earning another one, if that’s what you want.”

TK bites his lip. “But?”

“But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep this one.”

With stinging eyes, TK shrugs a shoulder and mumbles, “Yeah, okay. If you want to.” Carlos slips the chip into his pocket and then pulls TK gently into his arms. TK slumps against his solid chest, both of them smelling of old sweat and hospital antiseptic. The warmth of him soaks into TK’s tired bones and his shoulders tremble as more tears fall.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos

@tailoredshirt @goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @chaotictarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom

@whatsintheboxmh @inkweedandlizards @bonheur-cafe @reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee

@never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng

@fallout-mars @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @fitzherbertssmolder @safeashousespdf

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk