#having issues with windows right now so. i think it's the final straw

[nitronicrush]

what would be a good linux distro for my main pc? i use it mainly for playing games & making art.

[justevelynnnn]

He’s better

Summary: After constant mistreatment from your boyfriend Logan, someone else starts to catch your attention…

Warnings: Smut near the end, cheating mentioned, cussing, logan gets kinda cucked in the end

A/N: I’m in my Scott summers era rn. I’m here to feed all 12 of the cyclops fans with this one💯

You really don’t know how or when this feeling started.

Logan hasn’t been treating you right in ages. The relationship you two started was passionate. But that was the issue. “Passionate” in this case just means sex. Lots of it. And it was cool and all at first, especially because Logan was very good in bed.

Veryyy good.

But that was it.

Valentine’s day came and he did nothing but offer to get you off for a few hours. Couple of lazily thrown rose petals on the bed. A chocolate bar. He never got you flowers or spent actual time with you.

Your final straw was your one year anniversary.

What did he do?

He forgot.

You hinted all day but he just looked at you sideways. Then he had to “leave” early in the day and said he wouldn’t be back for days. You said nothing. You just stared at him as he left with a bag full of clothes, cigars and booze. That was another pet peeve.

He was so bad at communicating. Not even a kiss goodbye nowadays.

You knew what most would ask at this point. What did you think you signed up for??? That was Logan Howlett for you. Cigars for breakfast, Booze for lunch and a combination of both for dinner. And the sex thing was just obvious. That man loved sex but did he reallyyy care for a serious relationship?

Obviously not.

Jean and Scott find you crying outside after Logan left on you guys anniversary and offered to take you out for drinks. You wanted to take your mind off things so you agreed and that night you three went to a nearby bar.

Scott decided to be the driver so he didn’t drink but you drank a few. You and Jean sat at the bar and Scott sat at a booth by the door, looking out the window but also occasionally looking over at you two. Jean also got drunk for some reason, but you later found out it was because her and Scott were also having relationship issues.

Jean was starting to become sloppy and just before you turned to tell Scott, Jean started crying and confessing random things to you. Guilty conscience you supposed. Wasn’t this night for you?

She tells you times she lied to Charles and things she said that she regrets. But one thing stuck out to you.

Apparently, she slept with logan a month ago.

You froze. What?

She claimed she did it to get him off her back and stop flirting but apparently that’s made him worse and now Scott is mad and is threatening to break up with her.

By now she’s crying hysterically and the bartender had told you guys to leave. Scott shakes his head in annoyance and disappointment as he rushed over and apologizes to you.

It was then you thought.

Maybe it’s cause you were tipsy but in the dim, soft light of the bar Scott looked kind of…..hm.

Wait, did he always look this good? No, no, no…well?

Was his jaw always that defined? Wait a minute.

You watched as he carried an inconsolable Jean out the bar.

Those arms…those muscles…

Hm.

Scott broke up with Jean the next day.

Logan was still gone so you had your shared room to yourself but you supposed you’d break up with him too. Not that he’d care since he couldn’t take you seriously.

You were still very hurt as you sat in the kitchen at the island with a glass of wine. How’d you get hung over from a few drinks? Your head pounded while your heart hurt with sadness.

Scott came in a few minutes after you got settled.

“Hey, y/n…” He said as he walked to the fridge.

You mumbled a soft “hey.” as you looked up at him.

Why was he shirtless? Good lord.

Those abs…

Maybe you were still drunk because Scott was looking very sexy right now.

“Hey, sorry for last night again.. I don’t know what’s gotten into her..” Scott sighed and put his hands on his hips. “I’ve been nothing but loyal to her.”

“You and me both..” You said sadly. You didn’t even realize how you and Scott were in the same boat of being cheated on.

Scott smirked as he saw you still staring at his torso.

“Feeling all right over there?” He asked, playing innocent.

You jump. Shit, has he caught on already? You quickly replied, “Oh, yeah yeah, just.. bit hungover I guess.”

He nodded and moved to sit next to you still smiling.

“I got a few remedies for that yknow…”

You could also smell his breath now. Minty.

Hundred times better than beer or whiskey. Actually clean.

He was so close now as he leaned in a bit. He licked his lips too. Those lips..so many details about him you never noticed til now… You could feel his eyes on you as you shifted in your seat. Remedies? You hated where your mind was going.

His “remedy” was to eat food and not drink more.

You felt like a dumbass. You needed to get your mind out the fucking gutter.

And this stuff went on for a bit.

In the few days Logan was still gone you stole many glances at Scott. One day, you caught him in just gray sweatpants working out. You watched as his body moved, glistening with sweat. Listening to his grunting. Then looking away when he looked your way.

You didn’t know what got into you either but you just couldnt shake Scott off your mind.

You thought about him when you woke up, went to bed, worked out, watched tv…

He ran circles.

And he was so kind to you after Logan got back. You and him had an argument about Jean and how he forgot the anniversary thing a few days ago. He said some hurtful things to you. Really hurtful. Scott comforted you as you cried again, rubbing your shoulder and telling you everything it gonna be okay.

He brought you a few flowers with a ribbon tied around the stems.

“Just something to cheer you up.” He said smiling at you.

He cooked you dinner another day—your favorite foods too, how interesting, how’d he know?— and even offered to teach you after you ate it and complemented his cooking.

This went on for weeks. This “nice” thing quickly turned into flirting.

It horribly irritated Logan to see but he says nothing much.

Jean apologized to you again and again and you didn’t know if you ever really wanted to accept her apology. She stayed away from logan now, responding harshly to his attempts of flirting. It was his “fault” she lost Scott she’d tell him.

And she was so caught up with teaching she didn’t notice how close you and Scott were becoming either.

You were worried. Scott made you melt but you were worried if you were just some rebound or if you slept with him it would just be some stupid payback to logan. How would you know if he was just buttering you up just to get between your legs and then leave?

But maybe you were too swooned to care. You started to hang out with him more and more, like you teo were already dating. You thought, why not? He was sweet to you, caring, patient…

He even opened up to you. No offense to Logan but you were tired of prying for answers on true feelings.

One afternoon, after a month of heavy flirting and sneaky touches, you were in his bed. One thing led to another and now you two were sloppily making out, hastily removing clothes from each other. The door was left wide open. You were worried if anyone would hear and tried to tell Scott but he ignored you, pulling your panties off.

Maybe he wanted a certain someone to hear..

“You’re so beautiful, y/n.” Scott said taking your nude body in, probably saving a mental image.

Scott was in nothing but his boxers now. You could see the semi-hard on. You were no longer distracted by the open door. He was big alright. Not that Logan was too but with Scott it was more length than girth.

“Scott…this is…i still haven’t broken up with him yet…are you sure we should be doing this?” You breathed. You wanted this…so bad. But it wasn’t right.

“So? Mentally, you have. Plus..”, He kisses your neck and whispers in your ear, “He doesn’t know how to treat someone like you clearly.”

His soft voice sends shivers down your spine. He gently thrusts against you once more as you softly moan his name. He’s right. Logan didn’t know how to treat you. Not anymore at least. He was always rough and quick with you but Scott…so patient, calm. Soft.

Scott kisses you one more time then he gets up to grab a condom (be safe guys!) and pulled his boxers down.

“Fuck…” You say barely audible but Scott hears you and smirks.

“Like what you see?”

You just nod. He was beautiful. Head to toe. And where has he been hiding all of that dick?

Scott climbs on top of you once more, rubbing and kissing all over you. Practically worshiping your entire body. Savoring you like he will never fuck anyone ever again.

He rubs your clit once more, preparing you for when he enters and asks you if you’re ready. Again, all you could do is nod as he lines himself up with you. He tells you to take a deep breath and let him know if he needs to stop at any point. God, he was so so gentle with you.

It was definitely a stretch.

It’s been awhile honestly. Scott let you adjust as you heard your breath hitch. He rubs comforting circles on your clit once more and kissed your lips softly.

Once you were ready he started to move. He was nice and slow at first, giving you a few good deep thrusts. It didn’t take long for him to bottom you out. Then he changed to a pace that was quicker. Still deep, but faster. The headboard on his bed started to bang against the wall.

You were worried people would hear but what you didn’t know was Scott picked a perfect time to fuck you like this. The students were on a field trip and the other xmen were with them. It was just you and Scott today.

And Logan.

You sound like a broken record at this point, calling Scott’s name over and over. Moaning things that barely make any sense. The sheets below you are already damp. Scott barely made any noise as he thrusted into you. Listening to the wet slapping noises coming from you two. And for any other reaction…

You really forgot about the open door the second Scott was inside you. You begged him to go faster faster faster until you felt like the bed could soon break from how quick it was moving and how loud it was.

A few positions later and you were getting close. Scott had you on your hands and knees now though he had pushed your face into the bed. You were out of it, nearing an orgasm. He had you facing the door but face down. He could hear footsteps as you whine about how close you were. Knowing you was coming only got him closer too. As he saw a shadow appear he quickly told you to tell him, “Who’s making you feel like this? Tell me and then you can cum.”

“Y-you Scott! Fuck- You! Scott you!” A muffled voice in the sheets. You were so cockdrunk you couldn’t even hear someone approaching the door.

You finally came in one of your most intense orgasms yet, moaning Scott’s name loudly once more.

Scott soon followed but what you didn’t see what how he was staring right into Logan’s eyes as he came inside of you. Biting his lip, glaring at him as he sloppily gave you his final thrusts.

You plopped onto the bed when it was all over but your attention was soon caught again as you heard the familiar sharp snnnnkt sound and a growl right in front of you.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott said in a mocking tone. “Toooo late…”

[handsupinthebalorclub]

Anagapesis (Chapter 9)

pairing: the shield x reader

word count: 2,337

summary: Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for something or someone you once loved. After three years, you’re officially the manager of the Shield once again. But, things aren’t quite the same as they used to be.

warnings: cursing, mentions of betrayal, trust issues

playlist: spotify

Author's Note: It's been awhile! But, here's part 9

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five /chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine

_____________________________________________________________

“Oh come on, can’t you pretend to be happy? Just for a moment?” Roman asked from your position inside of the ring. 

“No.” You grumbled. This earned you an amused look from Michael Cole, who would be overseeing that night’s contract signings. 

You hated signings. With a passion. Every signing you have been to, whether it be for the Shield or any other client, has turned out to be a mess. To make matters worse, you had to attend two today. Dean swiveled in the black office chair towards you in order to make a comment, but before he could, The Bar’s music overtook the speakers. Dean turned back around and clasped his hands together on the table. 

The pair walked down the ramp, showing off their titles as they did so. Once they reached the ring, Roman lowered himself into the seat next to Dean. You stayed off to the side, hoping that for once in their lives, the guys could be their own mouthpiece. 

That tactic actually seemed like it was going to work, shockingly. You watched in awe as Sheamus and Cesaro, the first team to sign, picked up their pens. You had actually anticipated this interaction being a lot more mentally taxing. 

Well, that was until any dreams of a simple signing went out the window the moment Dean leaned over and whispered something, very loudly and obnoxiously, to Roman. 

“How many cans of hairspray do you think it takes for Sheamus to get his hair like that?” This off-hand comment was enough for Sheamus to pause before pressing the pen down onto paper. 

“What?” 

 Dean acted as if he didn’t hear Sheamus’ question and continued. “Do you think Cesaro helps him? Probably, right? That’s cute. Why don’t you help me do my hair?”

Roman attempted to suppress a smile. You, on the other hand, had to resist the urge to hit Dean upside the head for prolonging this. Cesaro now looked up with creased brows, also with an unfinished signature in front of him. 

“Is this some sort of strategy?” He asked. Dean finally decided to acknowledge them and leant back into his seat.

“I dunno. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Who knows?” 

“Crazy asshole,” Sheamus mumbled. 

“You think I’m crazy?” Dean placed a hand over his chest in offense. “You two think you’re going to actually hold onto those titles. Calling me crazy, sheesh. You’re the crazy ones.” This was enough for Sheamus to suck his teeth and stare down at Dean. Feeling the tension, you quickly decided to intervene. The moment you stepped forward, Roman quickly handed the unused microphone that was in his hand to you. 

“Cesaro, Sheamus, I’m so sorry about my client’s behavior. There’s no reason for any action to happen tonight. Let’s save the fight for the Rumble, yeah?” You painted a smile onto your face. It looked as if Sheamus was just about to let it go when Dean turned to face you like he had done before The Bar had gotten there. A smirk was obvious on his face, a clear sign he knew how difficult he was making this for you. You made a mental note to get him back for this. 

“Y/n, there’s no use reasoning with them. They’re obviously delusional.” This was apparently the last straw for Sheamus, who placed his hands upon the table and started to get up. Yet, he was stopped by Cesaro. 

“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Sheamy.” Sheamus looked at his counterpart with narrowed eyes, but sat back down. Not even six seconds later, they had both signed the contract. Sheamus, quite harshly, slid the contract to the Shield. Roman quickly signed and gave the paper to Dean, who happily signed his name. You rolled your eyes at the little smiley face Dean had added to the end of his signature. This man… 

When The Bar’s music began to end the segment, you quickly did your best to drag Dean out of the ring to avoid further confrontation. You were pretty sure if he had the chance to, Dean would probably throw a punch for the hell of it. And knowing Roman, he probably wouldn’t have stopped him. Upon arriving at the gorilla, you let out a large sigh. 

“You,” You grumbled while pointing at Dean. “Are the worst.” 

“And?” He laughed. However, you just crossed your arms. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me that wasn’t fun for you! It was fun for Ro! Right, bro? Back me up here.” Dean twisted his body to look at the man who was walking next to him. 

“Hey, don’t bring me into this.” Roman chuckled. You took out your phone and quickly checked the time, realizing that you had to be in Kurt’s office in two minutes. Kurt was kind enough to let you and Jason borrow his office yet again to talk business. 

“I gotta go, have a meeting.” You locked your phone and slipped it into your pocket. 

“With who?” Roman questioned. 

“Marketing. Something about individual merch?” You mentally applauded yourself for a good on the spot lie. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Be good, Dean.” You began to walk away. Dean stood there, looking at your retreating figure with an open mouth. 

“I’m always good!” He called back, causing you to sputter out a laugh. 

* * *

This time, when you entered the office, you made sure to lock it behind you. Of course nothing happened last time, but you knew there was a very large chance a lot of wrestlers were pissed off with their Rumble entrance numbers and wanted to take it up with the general manager. When you turned back around, Jason sat at his father’s desk with a large smile on his face. You apprehensively approached and slowly sat down in one of the folding chairs before him.

“Hey!” Jason beamed. 

              You furrowed your brows.“Hey?” His smile didn’t seem to change. “Can you stop? You’re scaring me.” You commented. Jason’s expression fell as he crossed his arms. 

“Oh come on, I’m just excited! It’s my first Rumble!” 

“I’m scared and I’m not even the one wrestling.” Of course you loved the Rumble, but it was a stressful time. Jason rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up on the table. You had the desire to shoo them off, not sure if Kurt would like him using the desk as his personal foot rest. Yet, you allowed it. 

“So, got any tips on how I can win this thing?” 

“Uh, no.” You laughed. “Rumbles are hard to prepare for. No one knows who’s in or what position. There’s too many variables. You’re on your own this time. Don’t fuck it up, okay?” 

“Hmm, does this mean I don’t have to listen to you yap about foot positions?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him. “I’m trying to help you. Your stance is way too wide when you do front suplexes. You’re going to end up falling on your face one of these days. I saw you almost stumble while picking up Hawkins.” 

“It’s called having some dramatic flair, y/n. Maybe you should try it some time.” Jason jested. 

“No thanks, I’ll stick to being boring,” You commented. At that moment, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone. As usual, it was Seth summoning you to the gorilla. The words ‘I have a plan’ came through not even a second after. You held in a sigh and stood up. “Take your feet off the desk. I’m not sure your dad wants footprints on his documents.” 

“What are you? My mom?” Jason rolled his eyes, but followed your instructions. “Which hound was it?” 

“No, I’m your manager. Seth sent me a text. We have our signing with Brock in a little bit.” You slipped your phone back into your pocket. 

“Ah, the yappy chihuahua,” He smirked. 

“Chihua—I don’t even want to know. I’ll talk to you later.” As you were leaving, you saw Jason put his feet back onto Kurt’s desk. 

* * *

The moment you turned the corner into the gorilla, your eyes locked onto Seth’s figure a little bit down the hall. However, this meant that you almost collided with a very frazzled audio engineer. They gave a rushed apology and briskly walked passed. 

“I almost got knocked over earlier by a tech carrying a huge light,” Seth explained from his position leaning on the wall. “The gorilla is a mess.” 

“Now that you mention it, everyone does seem more stressed today,” You looked around the area to see various people bustling about. “I wonder why?” 

Not even a moment passed before a large commotion could be heard, followed by the sight of Brock Lesnar and a very red faced Paul Heyman. 

“When the Champion says he wants water in his locker room, he means spring water goddamn it!” Paul bellowed as he and Brock pushed through a group of poor stage hands. 

“That answers that question,” Seth answered with crossed arms. 

You held in the urge to sigh and decided to revert the conversation to the topic at hand. “So, what’s this plan that you have?” 

“Hm?” Seth cocked his head to the side for a second. “Oh, I didn’t actually have one. Roman told me that you were in some boring meeting.” 

You stared at Seth, your mouth slightly agape. “Not everyone finds meetings boring, Rollins.” 

He just stood there, unbothered. “So you’re telling me that you were having fun?” 

“And if I was?” You shifted your weight from one side to the other. 

“I’d probably mark you down as clinically insane.”

Your shoulders slumped. “Finn asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee earlier. I’m regretting turning it down.” 

“Once I become the champ, I’ll make sure the locker room is filled with coffee. Anything for the champ, right?”

You couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at him. There was a direct parallel between that statement and Brock storming out of his VIP locker room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Seth asked. 

“Nothing, Rollins. Nothing. Now that you just ruined my schedule and our signing isn’t for another…” You checked the time on your phone. “Fifteen minutes…so, I’ll see you later.” You began walking back in the direction from which you came. 

“Where are you going?” Seth called as he kicked off of the wall. 

“Anywhere but here.” You replied over your shoulder. 

A little while later, you sat at the table within the ring once again. Seth stared down Brock, while your attention was on Paul Heyman, who stood behind Brock’s chair. 

The moment Paul brought the microphone to his lips, you prepared for the onslaught. 

“Miss L/n, this is your last chance to convince your client to step down.” 

“Over the years Rollins has made plenty of dumb decisions, and will probably continue to do so,” This statement made Seth give you an offended expression, which you ignored. “But this is a decision I agree with. Brock Lesnar hasn’t shown up for a title defense in months, which isn’t fair to both our fellow colleagues and the WWE Universe.”

“In order to fight the Champion, you have to earn it. And half of these wrestlers,” he put the term in air quotes, “haven’t. When fans see Brock, and that title, they get excited. They know they're about to get a show. Isn’t that right?” 

The audience gave a weak shout of approval. At that moment, Seth leaned over so that his face was in front of your microphone. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on your brow, him being too close for comfort. 

“I think they would rather see a show every week rather than once a year.” 

Michael Cole silently pushed the contract towards the middle of the table, reminding everyone of the task at hand. Thankfully, Seth grabbed hold of the pen and scribbled his name across the paper.

“You’re making a mistake.” Paul warned. Seth, rather roughly, pushed the document towards Brock. The other man didn’t look too happy when the folder’s corner bumped into his arm. Begrudgingly, he signed as well. 

Before you could reply, a sudden blur of white took over your vision. When you came to, you realized that you were now sitting on the canvas and your nose hurt. A lot. 

You looked around, trying to piece together what had just happened. On the other side of the ring, Seth’s back was pressed against the ropes, his eyes wide and directly on you. The, once upright table, was now flipped over a few inches away from you. When your eyes trailed up to Brock, you saw him with a wide smile. 

Within that instant, the sound of the Shield’s music blasted through the arena. Out of seemingly nowhere, Dean slid into the squared circle and Roman appeared as well. 

“What was that for? Huh?” Dean yelled towards your attacker. He hopped up and down, ready for a fight. Brock threw his hands up and quickly jumped out of the ring. One look from Dean sent Paul scurrying into the same position as his partner. 

“Y/n, you okay?” Roman was suddenly at your side, cupping his hands under your chin so he could get a good look at you. 

“Did…did he just throw the table?” You asked. Roman didn’t respond, still inspecting your face. You curiously brought a hand up to your nose. When you pulled away, the sight of blood on your palm made your heartbeat quicken. 

“Hey, we need a medic!” Roman shouted into the sidelines. 

This seemed to finally awaken the paralyzed Seth, who quickly ran over to your other side. 

“Y/n…” He started, but the words fizzled at the sight of the two medics who had just entered the ring. One handed Roman a towel and instructed him to catch some of the blood. 

This was exactly why you hated signing nights.

[milfgyuu]

Satellite  Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Fem!Reader Series: Svt x Harry’s House Tags: 3.1k, Complicated Lovers, Angst, Comfort. Warnings: Rated PG-13. Mostly angst in this piece, mc is a hot mess (non-descript familial, health, financial issues) and highly self-critical, brief nudity but no explicit content. Summary: Wonwoo is tending the bar on a stormy summer evening when you walk back into his life and though he’s been patiently allowing you the space to work things out on your own - he’s not sure he can watch you walk right back out that door again.

The bar is quiet today and Wonwoo could not be happier to spend his time cleaning glasses, restocking, and watching the rain outside the tall glass windows. 

It had been pouring all afternoon and well into the evening which either drove folks inside or kept them home and today seemed to be the latter. The few patrons he had were easy keepers and so he minded his workspace - meticulously scrubbing and polishing. 

Something to keep his hands busy to pass the time.

A sudden rush of sound enters the quiet space signifying another arrival. Wonwoo glances up with a generic greeting on his tongue but quickly notices you’ve come without an umbrella and are soaked to the bone. That much he can tell even as you’re facing away, cursing at your reflection in the door so instead of waiting, he takes off to the supply closet to search of a few handtowels to dry yourself a bit.

The tiny room is a mess, of course, but he manages to find a few clean towels and vows to restructure this dysfunctional system another day.

He almost walks right past you, having found the corner seat far from everyone else, but there is a slight sniffle and he turns on heels to follow the sound finding his mystery patron shivering and dripping water onto his clean bartop. His words fail him at the sight because it’s a rather pitiful one.

Your suit jacket is soaked through, your hair is slick and dripping from the ends, and your chin is tucked in defeat like you’ve been dealt a poor hand over and over and this is just the final straw. Like all of the fire and fight you had left had been smothered once and for all. He takes a tentative step forward and then you raise your head. Meeting his eyes, he’s now convinced require another exam, he is sure there is no way you’re looking back at him.

Your name is heard through a whisper of disbelief and your shoulders hike up, spine going ramrod straight. Of all the bars, restaurants, and cafes along this street surely you could have chosen somewhere know one would recognize you but instead you look back at the one person you hadn’t ever been able to fool. The one person you could not hide the truth from no matter how hard you tried.

Someone you ran from if only to save him from the disaster that is you.

“Wonwoo,” you quickly clear your throat and throw on a fake smile, “Hi.”

Its been four months since you disappeared and yet he doesn’t appear enraged or flood you with questions even though all you offer is ‘Hi’. He doesn’t bring up the fight that you started and subsequently walked out on the last night you were together. The night you finally realized you had to let him go before you hurt him anymore than you already have.

He instead pushes the towels into your hands and sputters his thoughts allowed, “I think I’ve got a towel and extra clothes in my gym bag in the car…give me a min-”

Wonwoo looks down at the hand suddenly clasped over his for a moment and then up at your soft stare. “It’s okay, really, you don’t need to do that for me.”

His brows furrow because of course he does and he will but again, you squeeze his hand. “Wonwoo,” you repeat slowly and it aches just to say his name again, “Don’t worry about it. Its okay.”

Wonwoo bites his lip and concedes, as usual. He slips his hand from your grip slowly, “Let me get you a drink at least.”

You nod and he doesn’t ask what you want, he already knows. 

The shame that’s always sat heavily in your gut eats away at you as you watch him pour. A man that you’ve so selfishly loved since the moment you met him, Wonwoo has picked you up and put you back to together too many times to look at him now without the guilt of everything you’ve put him through threatening to tear you apart.

He sets the glass down and slides it across the bar toward you. Pulling it into your grip weakly, you just look down at the liquid with regret.

Wonwoo misreads the action and fusses with his glasses. “I probably should have asked what you wanted. I’m sorry I assum-”

“No! This is good!” you reassure him, taking a hardy sip from the glass - hardly wincing at the burn in your throat. Nothing is more painful than lying to him. “Everything is…good. I’m really happy to see you! You’ve obviously left the old bar near campus.”

He rests a hand on the counter, settling against it. “Not really my scene anymore.”

“Of course not,” you smile softly, shrugging out of your wet coat. 

This place is so perfectly Wonwoo. It’s quiet and warm - comforting. 

Wonwoo is frowning when you settle back into your seat and look up at him. You know its because you’re a wreck and your hand automatically reaches for your drink, downing another unsavory gulp to deal with your inherent urge to let him take care of you. The heat remains in your throat this time and makes speaking nearly unbearable. 

“How, um…how have you been?” you try. Its better to focus on him. 

Wonwoo just shrugs though. “I don’t do much - you know me. I come to work and I go home. Not much keeping me busy these days.”

You’re not sure how to take that last bit but his face is open and honest as always. No underlying accusations even though you know how ‘busy’ you kept him. Running to him first with every problem in your life, hanging onto him for support like a lifeline, slowly sinking him like a sailor on a ship with too many holes in the hull to patch. 

Taking and taking and taking with nothing to give in return. 

You muster some sort of wry smile though it feels like a grimace. “Sounds peaceful.”

“Maybe,” he glances down, “It’s a little too quiet for me though.”

Just then the door opens and both your eyes flit in the direction of the incoming patrons. 

Wonwoo hesitates for a moment like he knows how easily you could disappear again but you encourage him, grip tight on your glass, and whisper, “Its ok, go.”

Still he lingers for a moment and then walks to the other side of the bar.

You watch him, weary of being caught, but its so good to see him - to be near him.

It feels greedy to take in the sight of him, to think about how much you’ve missed Wonwoo because you know you can’t think about it without breaking down and it’s your fault in the first place. You left him, not the other way around.

You miss his gentle hands and soothing voice. You miss the way he’d hug you and hold you for however long you needed and then some. You miss the way he made all the big things in life seem so very small and powerless when they loomed over you.

Wonwoo was…love, and warmth, and shelter from the storm but one day you realized you were the storm and coudn’t bear to keep dragging him through the muddied path you followed. Life was cruel but to hold onto Wonwoo was crueler. 

Across the bar, Wonwoo notices the way you’re staring down at the counter, swirling the contents of your drink without really touching it. He can feel your anguish like a knife in his chest, he always could, but it twists painfully knowing you won’t let him help. 

Boundaries. That’s what tethers him. Ones you put in place and held the line so furiociously he hadn’t dare crossed it in fear of losing you for once and all.

Instead he hovers like a satellite in your universe waiting for you to let him back in the way you both so desperately need. However long it may take. Months…years…he doesn’t care. He will wait right here for you forever.

He just hopes and prays it comes sooner than later. Neither of you seem to fair well without the other.

A loud crack of thunder rumbles through the bar and Wonwoo is thankful for the ongoing storm that drove you inside, hoping it might keep you here longer.

Unfortunately, it brings in more of a crowd than he’d been expectating and it left him running around cleaning and serving drinks instead of talking to you but he’s always watching - waiting for you to run.

You don’t though and Wonwoo’s ache eases a little at your close proximity. At the fact that you’re only a few feet away. Safe, he thinks. You’re safe while you’re in here with him, even if you offer nothing more than false smiles and small talk. Here he can make you laugh and tell its genuine. Here he can care for you in the only way you’ll let him - in only the ways you deem safe, for him.

Shortly after two drinks, you switched to something non-alcoholic and with the storm raging on outside, you stayed put long enough to mostly dry your clothes and sober right back up. Even liquor couldn’t quite keep a hold on you.

You keep yourself busy either quietly conversing with Wonwoo when he was free or watching him work when he’s busy. Mentally catalogging each image of him, every word spoken in his deep, familiar voice. Filing it away for the inevitable plummet when you leave him again.

Nearly eleven o’clock you notice people filing out of the bar, back into the rain. Each minute passes and more people gather up and head out until you’re alone, glancing around like someone else might be lingering much like you are. 

Wonwoo dutifully wipes down all the tables and says goodnight to his co-worker, letting him know he can close up by himself at this point and panic floods your viens. You quickly gather your things and Wonwoo turns to you curiously. Seeing your bag strap looped over your shoulder, his heart drops.

“You can stay,” he says quickly emptying his hands, “It’ll just take me a few minutes to lock up and it’s pouring still.”

You smile sadly, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about me,” you urge, putting more space between you, “It was good to see you.”

“Wait,” he attempts to maneuver the counter but you’re so close to the door, “When can I see you again?”

You grip the door handle so tightly it cuts into your hand.

“I don’t…I don’t know. This wasn’t…seeing you tonight wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You quickly glance down at the floor, the pain in his face so open and obvious.

“At least let me drive you home,” he pleads but each step closer has you wrenching the door open, “Please, I just want to make sure you make it home safely.”

You can’t. You cannot even look at him.

You don’t even have a home right now and he doesn’t need to know that. He needs to stay here and forget about you. “I can take the bus,” you argue, “I’ll be fine. I’ve been fine, Wonwoo.”

You’re a liar and a coward.

Wonwoo looks helpless when you take a step out of the door and he can only whisper another desperate, “Please,” before you look back at him.

“Goodbye, Wonwoo.”

And you’re gone.

Hot tears streak down your face as you battle the onslaught of rain, thick droplets pelting your body as you run across the street. The bus stop is still a little ways away but you slow your steps, using the rain as camouflage to let yourself fall apart. There isn’t a soul on the streets and you let the emptiness swallow you whole until your knees are buckling, threatening to sink you into a puddle and let you drown.

Thats when you hear it.

A voice in the distance, strained and restless, calling out your name.

You turn to find Wonwoo running after you and another choked sob falls from your lips as you call back to him. “What are you doing?!”

Like a magnetic force, you close the distance between you and he grabs both your arms, dragging you against his chest. “Don’t leave again,” he shouts over the volume of the storm and adrenaline thumping in your ears, “Don’t walk away from me, please.”

Sorrow grips your heart in a vice, squeezing the last bits of light from you.

“You should be the one walking away from me! Don’t you get it?!” 

You grit your teeth so angry at the way emotion chops your words up when you’re begging him to understand. “I’m like poison, Wonwoo! My life is misery, and pain, and endless fucking disaster! Why can’t you see that? Why would you want me? I’m a broken, angry, selfish person. Why won’t you let me save you from me?!”

The last sentence hardly makes it out because Wonwoo’s lips crash against yours. He kisses you tenderly but with a firmness that tells you he won’t go. He won’t leave and let you crash and burn on your own. Cold, wet hands cradle your face, so gently, and make their way down to your shoulders and the middle of your back, anything he can do to keep you anchored right here in his arms. 

He kisses you in the rain for what feels like forever and you chase him when he pulls away for air because you’ve spiraled so far out of control you’re not sure how to bring yourself back to reality. You’re easily reconnected because he doesn’t care that its pouring and you’re both drenched. He doesn’t care that he’ll probably be sick tomorrow because he’s needed this, needed you, for so long now.

You tremble under his touch, fingers gripping and twisting into his shirt, holding him close. 

With his forehead rested against yours, he tries to shield you from the rain.

“Come back inside with me,” he pants, “We’re going home.”

You try to shake your head, pleading with him to let you go but he tightens his grip and stares back at you. “I’m not asking anymore,” he says resolutely, “I love you and we’re going back home, together.”

A fresh sob springs from your throat at the memory of home. 

He moves slowly as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, and begins pulling you back toward the bar. You follow him, no energy or willpower to pull your hand from his and do the right thing. To spare him from inevitable heartbreak.

Wonwoo doesn’t let go of you once as he pulls you back inside, locking the front doors behind you. You follow him in silence as he flicks off lights and leads you out the back door, still working with only one hand to lock up and then he’s opening the passenger door to his car and you’re slipping inside. 

When he gets into the driver’s seat, he turns on the heat and then takes your hand again, holding it the entire fifteen minute drive back to his apartment.

What was once also your apartment.

Pushing inside the front door, you notice it looks exactly the same. As if time froze the moment you walked out and only the sound of the door shutting and locking behind you allowed it to resume. 

Wonwoo stands behind you, waiting for you to move or speak but when you can’t seem to do either, he takes your hand and you look up at him - conflicting emotions so evident on your face - and he guides you back into the bedroom and adjoining bathroom to start the shower because you’re both still soaked and you haven’t stopped shaking. 

“Come on,” he urges gently, “Let’s warm you up.”

Numb physically and emotionally, you don’t react when Wonwoo carefully begins removing your clothing and his, tossing them into the corner. He sticks his hand under the water and adjusts the temperature before walking you inside closest to the spray. You stand there motionless, staring at a spot over his shoulder as he reaches up to wash your hair quietly.

Everything is fuzzy and out of focus until your vision shifts to find a small freckle on his collarbones and it’s then that you finally speak. “Aren’t you tired of this?”

It’s not a question about his physical state and he knows this. He knows what you mean. 

‘Aren’t you tired of me?’

Wonwoo hums to himself, shaking his head and rinsing soap from your shoulders as he looks down at you. “Aren’t you, though?” he asks, stroking his thumbs against your skin, “The weight you’re trying to carry alone is crushing you - I know you’re exhausted.”

You are exhausted in every way, shape, and form. 

Your familial trauma and responsibilities, your failing career, your health, and the endless debt that keeps growing with each day - it’s killing you.

With another crackling sob, you fall against his chest, wrapping your arms around his bare torso until your fingernails dig into the soft skin of his back slightly. He tucks you in closer, bracing your trembling body against his own with one hand cradling the back of your head and the other rubbing your back as the showerhead continues warming you both.

“Allowing me to shoulder a little bit of your burdens will not hurt me,” he says softly, “I am tired of silence. I am tired of going to sleep and waking up in an empty bed. I am tired of watching you struggle to do it all alone with a fake smile to hide your pain but I am never tired of you.”

“Look at me,” he says after a moment and you pull yourself off his chest to meet his gentle eyes. “I’ve been waiting every single day of the last four months for you to come home. You told me to give you space and I’ve done all I can to stay and be patient, wait for you to finally let me in, but I am terrified that day may never come.”

“Wonwoo…”

He presses your foreheads together and lets out a shaky breath.

“I am begging,” he whispers painfully, “Let me love you. Let me help you.”

“Please.”

“I’m sorry,” you kiss him, “I’m so sorry for leaving.”

“I know,” he whispers back, kissing your lips and then the space between your eyes, “Just stay with me, okay? Come home and we’ll get through it together.”

Wonwoo has never once lied to you and you’re nodding before you can even form words but that’s all he needs as reassurance that in in the very least, you won’t slip from his arms and disapear in the middle of the night. He’d hold onto you until the sun rose and if you told him you weren’t ready, he’d wait but he hopes you’ll stay. 

Forever and a day could go by and he’d still be waiting for you.

Thanks for reading! 💗

SVT M.List | Main M.List |

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfguu, 2019. ©️

[gothamite-rambler]

Waffle House

Waffle House Waitress (Alice): I'm going to say this one more time: get out before I call the cops!

Crackhead (Luke): And I said I want compensation for this awful meal!

Alice: You ate the toast, the eggs, and the sausage. Your glass is empty. You consumed the entire meal, which means NO REFUND FOR YOU!

Luke: It left me disgusted! The toast was burnt, the eggs were undercooked, and the sausage—!

Alice (snapping her fingers angrily): Hey, douche canoe, do you know where you are right now? This is a fucking Waffle House!

Alice motioned to the window with the Waffle House decal on it.

Alice: The cook just got released from prison three months ago for attempted murder with a knife, and he has made it very clear he will gladly take that charge again specifically for you cuz you've pulled this crap scam in the past!

Luke (missing the point): Oh, is Percy back? I demand he remake this meal or refund me!

Alice: Did you miss the part where he’ll beat your ass if I call him? And he can't be fired either!

Percy (from the back): My uncle owns this place, jackass!

Alice (hands on her hips): So what will it be, Lucas Johnston? Pay and leave, or you can not pay and leave! I don't really care anymore!

Dick tried to chime in, but Jason gripped his arm simply shaking his head to not intervene.

Luke (saying the single worse defense): The customer is always right!

Alice (shouting): In taste! The customer is always right in taste— not to get a comp on a meal you licked clean, you drug fiend!

Luke (lying): Listen here, harlot! Before I became addicted to crack, I was an MMA fighter and killed three opponents.

Alice (at her final straw): Luke, we went to school together before you failed out. You were in no way a fighter, the band geeks could take you! Now, if you want to play games, I'll play games!

Luke lunged at Alice, but she grabbed him by his torn shirt and tossed him out of the restaurant. The patrons barely blinked an eye, focusing on their meals or conversations. Alice wiped her hands of the encounter and calmly returned to the other table where Jason, Dick, Stephanie, and Cass were sitting.

Stephanie (clapping supportively): I would’ve gone way harder on him, but I respect the toss.

Alice: Thanks, girl. Now, how are you guys doing over here?

Dick (terrified, hiding behind Jason, who sat at the front of the booth): We're good. We are so good.

Jason: Didn't you say your eggs were made wrong?

Dick (panic in his voice): I love them! They were delicious. Compliments to the chef. I have no issues with anything here!

Cass (holding up her juice glass, smiling): Can I have more orange juice?

Alice: Sure thing, girlie.

Alice took the empty juice glass and walked away. Dick smiled nervously as the waitress left.

Stephanie (amused at the terrified crime fighter): So you're just going to eat the runny eggs?

Dick shushed her while continuing to eat the clearly poorly made eggs.

Jason (chuckling): I love her; she's so sweet. Apparently, she's working hard to pay for college.

Cass: Good for her! And she’s a good fighter. Think Bruce will adopt her?

Cass and Jason laughed at that joke while Stephanie rolled her eyes with a smile. Dick was still reeling from the crackhead, whose nose had been pressed against the window of the Waffle House as the couple continued eating.

Dick: Why did you offer to treat us, then take us to Waffle House?

Jason: I like the waffles here. Not my fault you got runny eggs. I told you they never make them right.

Dick: That is not what I am referring to!

Jason (indifferent while eating): Okay, you're not Luke the crackhead, so you'll be fine.

Stephanie (mockingly): Yeah, Dick, just chill. Be glad a chair wasn’t thrown.

Dick sighed, covering his face in defeat and confusion. Left wondering how he was the only one uncomfortable with the atmosphere of a regular Waffle House.

[horny4hetfield]

Snow Way to Escape

I originally posted this a while ago, but I think I screwed it up. So, here's a re-write that has become the prologue to several other fics that are in the wings. I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings:  Angst, Sex Suggested

Why did I ever fall for this man?!  Is he talented?  Yes.  Is he good looking?  Damn yes.  Is he great in bed?  Fuck yes.  Is he being a dick?  All holy hells yes.  Has been since he got home from the road.  Am I regretting moving to his place in Colorado?  Right now.  Yes.  His last dig at me has me packing my carry on and putting my computer into my backpack while wiping away the tears I swore I wouldn’t shed.  I can walk away from everything I can’t fit into these two bags.  I looked over at the smart home device for the time.  It’s 3pm.  The notification bar was flashing yellow.  “Computer, what’s the notification?”  The robotic voice responds, “For the Vail Colorado area, the National Weather Service has issued the following weather warning.  A severe winter storm is forecast to begin snowing heavily at 2pm local time with heavy snow levels accumulating to 3 to 4 feet, drifting 6 to 8 feet.”  The rest of the warning went unheard as I grabbed my two bags, the note I’d written, and ran to the front door.  I dropped the bags on the floor, still clutching the note, as I saw my plans end.  Opening the front door I slowly walk outside into the dark, the snow had already been falling.  Big fat fluffy flakes so thick I could barely see the light at the end of the driveway.  Looking over to the garage door, “No, no no no, no!”  The drift was already a good 2 feet tall.  For a split second I thought about taking his damned truck.  It would easily clear that drift.

“What the hell are you doing?” James yelled from the open front door, looking between me and the bags on the floor.

Taking one last glance at the pile of snow blocking the garage door, I turn back to the house, “Well, I was going to leave you.”  I slapped my note into his chest.  Pushing past him, I collected my bags and slowly made my way back to the room that I had claimed as my own a week before.

“What the fuck!?” James yelled just before slamming the front door closed.

I kept walking dejectedly.  Making it back to the room, I tossed the backpack onto the bed and just stood there clutching the carry on.  I could hear James come storming down the stairs.  “What the fuck?  You are leaving me?”  I turned.  His usually glacier blue eyes now a threatening dark blue filled with rage.

“Well, mother nature said no” as I motioned to the now very dark window.  “Not tonight anyway.”

I heard the paper flutter to the floor.  “Why?”  The pain in his voice was natural, not forced.  It pinched my heart.

I turned to him but couldn’t look him in the eye.  “What was the one thing I asked of you when we started dating?”  He just stood there.  Then I did look at his face.  He was obviously thinking.  “I asked you to not compare me to the exes.”  He nodded slowly.  “I am not them and the exes are not me” I raged at him.  The rage fading from his eyes.  “But ever since you got home from the tour, you have been … well …”

“A dick” he finished my sentence.

“Yes” I snapped.  I put the carryon I was still holding on the bed.  “You have done nothing but compare me to them for months.”  I turned back to him, “The final straw was when you started counting your cash.”  His eyebrows knitted together.  “Every night before you go to bed, you count the cash in your pocket, put it in your wallet which you put on your nightstand.  Then in the morning after you shower and get dressed, you count it again.”  His fingers twitched as he processed what I said.  “I don’t need your money.”  He just looked at me.  “I have my own career and my own bank account.”  He continued to stare at me.  “I could have taken your damned $90 thousand dollar truck and left you the Shelby that I paid $125 thousand for.”  He cocked his head but didn’t ask.  I answered anyway.  “Taking your truck I would have gotten pulled over by your state trooper friends in a heartbeat.  That would be a felony.  And you would have no say if I got arrested or not.”  I turned away from him shaking slightly.  “Right now, you are not worth a felony on my record.”  I moved to the desk and sank into the chair.

He looked around the room.  The realization hit him, “When did your stuff get down here?”

I huffed a smile, “James, I moved down here a week ago.”  He looked at me.  “You didn’t notice that I wasn’t sleeping in your bed?”

His hands kinda flapped uselessly, “I thought you were coming to bed after me and getting up before…”

“Thanks for noticing” I said sorta like Eeyore.

His eyebrows knitted together again, “But the sheets got changed.”

“Yes they did” I just looked up at him.

“And the kitchen … the dishes … the laundry …”

“The grocery shopping, collecting the mail, dusting” I looked down at my hands. 

“Why?”

“Who else was gonna do it?” I dug back at him.  “It’s not like you’d do any of those things.”  He huffed a moment but didn’t say anything.  “I wanted to hire a cleaning team, but you went almost mental on me about that.”

“I don’t want someone just rummaging through my shit” he flared.

“I understand that” I tried to stay calm.  “But there are teams that specialize in people of your status.  Plus” I pointed to the monitors on the desk, “I have a job!  One that I enjoy!” my temper trying to flare.  I leaned my elbows on the desk rubbing my eyes. 

He was quiet for a minute.  “Look, this storm is going to blow for a couple of days” he said trying to stay calm.  “Let’s get some sleep.”  I just nodded.  He stepped backwards out of the room collecting the note from the floor, “We can talk in the morning.”  He softly closed the door.

I looked at the closed door.  His cologne lingered.  More than just his cologne.  Him.  The tears started to fall.  I let them.  Sniffling, I decided to take a soak in the tub.  Starting the water, I dumped in some salts from the cupboard, then sank into the hot water.  I mulled over the past 8 months.  The good, the bad.  More tears.  When the water turned cool, I got out, drained the tub and climbed into the bed.  The heat from the soak worked a charm and I was asleep in minutes.

I woke up still wrapped in the towel from the tub soak.  I slipped out of the bed, pulling on jammies and a robe.  I opened the bedroom door.  I could hear that James was in his studio.  It was a super crunchy riff floating through the house.  Smiling to myself, I went into the kitchen.  Pulling out what I needed to make a breakfast sandwich, I looked at the items on the counter.  It’s just as easy to make three as just one.  I left two on a plate in the fridge covered with a paper towel, with “Zap for 30 seconds” written on it.  I left another note on the counter, “Breakfast in fridge.”  Collecting my sandwich, a granola bar and a couple cans of Severed Lime from the fridge, I returned to my room.  Pulling my computer out of my backpack, I logged into work.

My chat window opened:

Boss:  You make the flight?

Me: No.  Got snowed in.

Boss:  You ok?

Me:  Meh

Boss:  Wanna talk?

Me:  Not right now.

Me:  I’m going Marinas Trench.  I need to get the last three chapters done.  They’re late.

Boss:  Understood.  Don’t worry about being late.  I’ll put in a good word for ya!

Me:  Thanks.

I clicked on the Out of Office option.  Then opened the files I needed from the New York servers and ate my sandwich waiting for the computers to synch.  Once done, I launched into where I’d left off.

I had no idea how long I’d been working until there was a soft knock on the door.  “Hey?” came James’ voice.

I turned to the door, “Yeah?”

“May I come in?”

Stretching, “Yeah.”

James came in and leaned against the wall.  “You sleep ok?”

Uncurling my legs from the chair, “Yes, thank you.”  Looking over at him.  “You?”

“Yeah, ok” he said.  He looked like shit.

I cocked a smile at him, “Liar.”

He huffed a laugh, “I don’t think I slept at all.”  He scrubbed his fingers through his silvered hair.  “Thanks for the breakfast sandwiches.”

I nodded, “You’re welcome.”  He kept trying to look at my computer monitors.  “What are you doing?”

“I guess I don’t know exactly what your job is.”

Patting the end of the bed, “Sit” I said.  He sat and leaned forward.  “I’m an editor.”  I rotated back to face the monitors.  “This screen is the book I’m working on” pointing to the monitor on the right.  “This screen” motioning to the one on my left, “are my notes.  The laptop in the middle just keeps me awake.”  I paused the cheesy disaster movie.

“Why the notes?” his curiosity was genuine.

“Well .. here” I pointed to a block of text highlighted on the right screen.  “The author has brought in a new character that has no backstory.  If this character was just in this paragraph it wouldn’t matter, but it shows up several more times.”  Pointing to the text on the left monitor with matching highlighting, “These are my notes back to the author asking about a backstory for this character.” 

James shifted to my left so see the screen.  “And how many notes does this author have from you?”

“On this book” I looked to the page count in the lower left corner of the window, “92.”

“Really?” he seemed shocked.

Stretching out my back, “Yeah, this guy tends to get lost in his own words.  So, I have to try to get him back out of the woods.”  I turned back towards James.  “You have never asked about my job before.  Why now?”

He sat back and looked at me.  “Because your note is correct.”  He rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs, “I haven’t taken any interest in you … outside of the bedroom.”

I heaved a sigh, “I probably should have edited my own writing.”

“No” his eyes popped up to my face.  “No.  You were right.  You were probably pissed as hell when you wrote that note.”  He ran his hands through his hair – which he did when he was nervous.  “But every word was true.  I have treated you like a whore.  I have compared you to the exes.  I have not discovered you … about you.”  His shoulders slumped some.  “I am sorry.”

That hit my heart.  Hard.  I rested my fingers on his knees.  “James.  I can accept your apology.”  His glacier blue eyes found mine.  “I can see that you mean it.”  Those gloriously blue pools now filled with doubt.  “But you will have to work on the forgiveness.”  I withdrew my fingers from his knees slowly.

Nodding, “I completely understand.”  His smile slightly lopsided.  “Will you please give me the chance to earn that forgiveness?”

I watched him a moment.  Then, smiling back at him, “Yes” I said softly.  His eyes brightened along with his smile as he stood.  “By the way” I looked up at him – damn but he’s tall.  “I really liked that crunch you had going this morning.  It sounded amazing!”

Incredibly, his eyes lit up even more, “You really liked that?”

“Yes” I smiled up at him.

“Thanks.”  He fidgeted.  “Uhmm, what would you like for dinner?”

“What time is it?” I asked looking at my computer screen.

“It’s like 3pm.  But since you made breakfast, I thought I’d make dinner.”

Nodding at him, “I will leave that to the chef.”

Nodding as he moved towards the door, “You like your steak …?”

Smiling at him, “Medium Rare.”  He closed the door with a grin.  My head was laughing Of course it would be steak!  My laptop pinged.

Boss:  Surface to Marianas Trench…. (I love my boss!)

Me:  evening.

Boss:  How’s it going?

Me:  Half way through last chapter.

Boss:  And the other thing…..?

Me:  Perhaps there is a chance here.

Boss:  ????

Me:  He just invited me to dinner.

Boss:  I thought it was snowing there still.

I took a picture out the window of the thickly falling snow and attached it to the chat.

Boss:  So?

Me:  He’s making me a steak.

Boss:  Ahh.  Well, then you need to go get ready!

Me:  Right after I finish this chapter.  Then I’m all caught up on this book.

Boss:  Fine. 

Boss:  Hope it goes well!

Me:  Thanks!

I finished the last chapter fairly quickly since it was not a complete chapter.  Saving both files to the servers and sending the links to the author – with the boss cc’d on that email – I closed down my computer.  Standing up and stretching, I moved to the bathroom.  I decided to take a shower and wash my hair.  If James was going to put in the effort to change, so could I.  No more being a slob.  I sat on the bed drying my hair when there was a tap on the door.  I popped up and grabbed the robe.  “Yes?”  No answer.  I opened the door.  There hanging on the light fixture in the hallway was a garment bag.  A postit note stuck to it.  Dinner at 6pm.   Smiling, I collected the bag and closed the door.  Laying the bag on the bed I opened it.  I only got about 6 inches open when I gasped.  Inside was a dark green velvet gown with beaded trim around the scoop neckline.  It was the dress I’d told him about.  I’d even made him watch the movie.  James had had it made.  He’d threatened to have it made for me to wear to the next awards show.  But I never thought he’d do it.  That was just a month or so after we’d started dating.  I looked at the clock.  5pm.  I had time.  I went back into the bathroom and did some tidying up.  Did my makeup and pinned up the hair.  I knew that he loved my long hair, but this gown … the hair had to be up.  Going back to the bed, I pulled the gown from the bag.  I slipped into it.  With the plunging back to just above my ass, I was completely commando beneath it.  I went to move the garment bag and it felt heavy.  Patting it down, I discovered a pair of heels.  They glittered with the same rhinestones as the trim.  Just as I slipped them on, there was a single tap at the door.  I opened the door.  The hallway was empty.  But there was a pink post it note on the floor.  Squatting down – if I’d bent over the gown would have slipped off me – I picked it up.  There was a doodle on it.  I couldn’t figure it out.  But looking up the hallway was another post it.  Another doodle.  As I walked to the stairs, there were more postit notes.  Each with a doodle.  I climbed the stairs and turned into the living room.  There stood James.  In his Brioni tux.  The sight took my breath.  Damn!  He looked good!  And he was holding another postit note, a crooked smile on his face.  He held it out to me.  The doodle on this one was a rose.

“Oh!”  I held out the ones I’d collected, “These are rose petals!”

Blushing, “Yeah, I couldn’t go get a real rose, so I improvised.”

I gently collected the one he held, “It’s lovely.”  I looked up into his eyes, “Thank you.”

James held out his hand to me – which I took – and he slowly spun me.  “I should have given this to you ages ago.”  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.  “You look stunning.”  I just blushed.  James tucked my hand into his elbow and gently led me down the hallway away from the kitchen and into the formal dining room.  He’d set the table.  There were candles on it and two place settings.  He pulled out the chair for me and scooched it in when I sat.  “The staff seems to have not reported to work this evening, so I will have to substitute” he said in a really bad French accent.  I giggled.  His eyes lit up.  “I shall return madam.”  I giggled even more.  James disappeared into the kitchen.  I put the pile of post it note petals on the table.  He returned with two plates.  Each bore a steak, a pile of green beans and a large slice of bread smothered in butter.  I smiled.  He was trying.  I cut into the steak and took a bite.

“How is it?” James asked.

Swallowing, “Perfection” I said.  He dug into his own.  I took a bite of the green beans.  A couple were still pretty frosty.  I didn’t say a word, but just smiled.  The bread was a garlic sourdough that I loved.  The butter was a bit much, but again, I wasn’t going to complain.  James had obviously put some thought into making dinner and I wasn’t going to ruin it.  I’d had worse meals. 

“The weather is forecasting that this snow will last another 48 hours or so” James said.

The weather.  A safe place to start.  “I haven’t listened to the weather or news today.”

“Did you get your book done?” James leaned towards me.

“I did.”

“How many do you edit?” his blue eyes clear and piercing.

“Uhm.  I have about 20 items in the wings to work on.”  I took a sip of the Squeezed to Death Orange in my glass.  He’d used champagne flutes for the sparkling water.

“Why so many?” James looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Some are just articles.”  I put my fork down, “It all depends on release dates.  The one I worked on today is supposed to release after the New Year.  The others have release dates after that one.”

“It has nothing to do with whom the author is?”

Pushing my plate away and leaning on the table, “Sometimes.  All depends on the author and release dates.”  I looked at him.  He was genuinely interested.  “If it’s big wig author and the release date is close, then that file gets bumped to the top of the pile.”

“Who is the biggest author you have edited?”  His smile was slightly crooked.

“I don’t get the Mitchell’s or the King’s”  I grinned.

“Why not?”

“My boss says that I’m too brutal with my notes” I slow blinked him.

James sat up.  “Yeah, you can be.”  He used his napkin on his lips.  “But perhaps they need those brutal notes.”  He smiled at me.  “As a recipient, I can attest that it kicked my ass into changing how I think.”  He held out a hand to me.  I laid my fingers into it.  “And I thank you.”  I didn’t know what to say.  He simply laid his other hand over my fingers and smiled at me.  Then he popped up, “Dessert” he said collecting our plates.  I squirmed in my seat.  My thoughts ranging all over the place.  He had totally messed me up.  Again.  Just like he had when we’d met.  He returned with two small plates.  Piled creatively on each were four sandwich cookies held in place with cake frosting and topped with whipped cream.  He set them down with great flourish, “Tah dah!”

Trying my best to not snort out a laugh, “I’m sure that the patisserie chef labored all day to create these delicacies.”  James did snort out a laugh.  Which made me burst out in laughter.  I picked up one of the cookies and happily munched it.  James retook his seat and tucked into his plate.  “Seriously, these turned out pretty good” I said licking whipped cream from my fingers.

“The frosting isn’t too much?” James asked seriously.

“No.  It’s just the right amount” I said scooping the last bit up on my finger.

James grabbed my hand and gently sucked the frosting from my finger.  I didn’t retract my hand but did go a little stiff.  He kissed the back of my hand before pushing it back tenderly towards my body, smiling at me.  “I’m sorry” he said kindly.  “Just a little too soon.”

Looking down at my now empty dessert plate, “Maybe not” I said softly.  I knew he couldn’t see it, but my thighs squeezed together tightly.

“Perhaps I should escort the lady back to her room” he said looking down at his plate, “before I make a compete fool of myself.  Again.”  He smiled at me as he stood, offering me his hand.

I took his offered hand, collected the postit notes and stood.  He tenderly tucked my hand into his elbow and walked me back to the room I’d claimed as mine.  I turned at the door, “That was lovely James.”  I again slow blinked him, “Thank you.”  I wiggled his bow tie, then let my hand rest on his chest, “You look very handsome in this suit.”

He gently cupped my face and kissed my forehead.  “Thank you” he said softly.  His hands gently ran down my shoulders then arms to my hands, “I can’t wait to see you in this gown again.”  He lifted both my hands to his lips and kissed them.  “Good night.”  He took several steps backwards before turning.  I turned and opened the bedroom door.  I put the post it rose petals on the desk.  I kicked off the heels and then shrugged and let the gown slip off.  I stood there naked.  My desires wanted to race up to his room and let him have his way with me.  My integrity said no.  My curiosity wanted to know what James would do next.  Hanging the gown up, I decided another soak was in order.  I unpacked my waterproof vibrator on the way into the bathroom.

I was sound asleep.  I felt his hand on my shoulder, “Kira” he said softly.  He shook me slightly, “Kira, wake up.”  I opened my eyes to find James standing by the bed holding my robe.  “There’s something I want to show you.”  I fumbled out of the bed.  James helped me into the robe and then tucked me into his side, his left arm draping from my right shoulder down to my waist on the left side.  Wearing a huge coat and scarf, he guided me to the big sliding doors to the upper patio.  “Here, put these on.”  He guided my feet into a pair of fuzzy boots, then put on his own mukluks.  He opened the door and led me outside.  It was bitterly cold, trying to suck the air from my lungs.  James lifted the collar of the robe to cover my mouth, “Here this will help.”  It did make breathing easier.  I looked up and he had the scarf wrapped around his own mouth.  He opened his coat and his arms gently held my back close to his chest.  Then he pointed.  I followed his finger.

The clouds had parted and the sky was filled with stars.  The landscape was a blanket of white snow as far as I could see. The bitterly cold temperatures had crystalized the top of the snow.  The moon was rising.  It was reflecting on the frozen crystals making them glitter.  It looked like diamonds had been scattered over the ground.  “Here it comes!” he whispered excitedly into my ear, his breath warming my ear and neck.  I shivered.  My nipples hardened painfully.  Then the Aurora flared into life.  An undulating ribbon of greens, blues and purples danced into the sky.  I gasped.  The frozen snow below reflected the colors of the Aurora.  James wrapped his arms around me, one around my shoulders the other around my waist.  I leaned back into his warmth watching the magic of nature unfold in front of me.  I have no idea how long we stood there speechless at the beauty.  As quickly as it started, it ended.  “Wow” was all James said.

I leaned back into him, looking up at his chin, “Thank you for waking me.”  He hugged me tighter.  “That was stunning.”

His hands patted my body, “I am glad I shared it with you.”  He nodded towards the distant pass “And here comes the next round of snow.”  The clouds looked black and nasty in the now darkened sky since the Aurora had faded.

James kissed the top of my head.  “Now, you are shivering.  Let’s get back inside.”  He rotated us, his arms still wrapped around me.  We walked – a little awkwardly – back into the house, closing the big glass door behind him.  We both kicked off our boots.  He backed us into the sofa, pulling me down into his lap.  He reached over and pulled up a blanket.  He wrapped it around us.  I curled up into his arms shivering, my head resting on his chest.  His fingers gently stroked my hair.  Sleep reached up and grabbed me.

I woke up on the sofa with the blankets tucked in around me still wrapped up in my robe.  I could hear James in the kitchen.  I sat up.  “Morning sleepy head!” he chimed cheerily.  “Coffee?”  All I could do was nod.  He brought over my favorite mug filled with coffee.  I took a sip.  It was super sweet.  “Too much sugar?”  I nodded.  He went to pull the mug from my hands but I wouldn’t let it go. 

Instead I took a couple of huge slugs from it, “Now, just put more coffee into it and it will be fine.”  James went to the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot bringing it back to me.  He filled my mug.  I swirled the mug and took a drink.  Smiling, “Yum” I beamed.  I looked out the window.  More snow had fallen over night.  The sky was still filled with grey snow clouds, but not snowing.  At the moment.

James collected his mug and sank into the sofa with me.  He flipped on the TV and tuned in the local news.  There were the stories about roofs collapsing under the weight of the snow, power lines down, cars sliding off the roads – one accident ending in a death.  “I’m glad you were smart enough to not drive that night” James whispered to me.

“Me too.”

I looked into his eyes.  The passion I saw there made my knees weak.  I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his head, pulling him to me.  I kissed him gently.  His eyes widened.  He cupped my head and kissed me back just as tenderly.  “So how are we going to spend the next day or so?” I asked teasingly.

James tightened his arm around my waist pinning me to his body, “I can think of a way” he rubbed his hands on my hips, “or two.”  He gently pushed me back, “Only if you want to.” 

I could tell that although his voice was joking, his eyes said that he’d changed.  I was no longer just a fuck buddy.  I was a woman that he wanted to spend time with.  In more ways than one.

“I’d like that” I purred.  “Just remember, you are still working on my forgiveness.”

He showered kisses all over my face, slowly pulling me towards his bedroom, “I know a way to start working on that” he growls softly at me. 

I just smiled and willingly let him lead me.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Starlight, Chapter Three:

pairing: fae!ezra prospect x princess!oc (Marigold)

rating: M (my blog is 18+ only, minors dni, dual/alternating POV, depression, magic/fantasy elements, ezra's got a plan but mari's got no fuckin clue)

wc: 5.2k

series masterlist

EZRA

Though I awoke most mornings to a familiar bit of shame blossoming inside my chest like a rotted flower straight from Hel, this morning was accompanied by a horrible guilt that only took two seconds of consciousness to place. 

Marigold. 

Thinking of her face—her perfect, heartbreaking, soul-consuming face—when she came down the staircase after…

I didn’t want to think of what she must’ve endured at the hands of her new husband. Another thing to repent for. But it was more than that that plagued me, forcing me into sending a very angry and jealous Emita away last night. It was the look of betrayal written in Mari’s eyes as she saw Emita and I together, as if it had been the final straw to break her. 

I wanted to console her, to assure her that what Emita and I shared was nothing more than a friendly service to one another—at least on my part—but she wouldn’t let me. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now as I lay in my all-too cold bed, staring up at the dark green curtains draped above the four-poster frame. The only thing to remind me of home, of my purpose for being here.

It had been my fault—all of it. I was the one who selfishly arranged all of this. The one who had secrets to hide. The one to ignore all of my well thought out plans in favor of more time with her, more of her trust, more of that sunbaked light that would have radiated from her even if I wasn’t born to spot it. 

The light to my dark. The reason this all started, and the reason it all could come crumbling down before me. 

MARIGOLD

I didn’t leave my suite for three days following my wedding night. 

I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Kaius, and it seemed he felt the same way about me. I hadn’t received any visits from guards informing me that the King requested my presence, and though I felt relieved at the thought of not having to lay beneath him again, I couldn’t shake the feeling of insecurity that followed. 

I longed to have some older, seasoned, trustworthy woman around me to offer advice, to rid me of my insecurity and assure me that I’d done nothing wrong. But all I had was Drusilla, and she was only a girl. It didn’t feel right placing my adult issues on her shoulders, and so, I kept to myself. 

She only visited twice a day, once in the morning to dress me and style my hair, and once in the evening to bathe and dress me for bed. I urged her to talk, even when I kept silent, just to hear her voice that sounded so much like my eldest sister’s did when I was just a little girl and she was Drusilla’s age. Drusilla didn’t seem to mind, even though her eyes told me she yearned to hear me speak instead, if only just to be sure I was still capable. 

Tonight, I was more quiet than usual as I sat in the front of the fireplace in my suite’s sitting room, staring at myself in the reflection of the large window leading out into pure blank night. My golden brown skin had faded into dullness even with the glow of the fire, my eyes both swollen and darkened by my tears and lack of sleep. My lips were cracked, my cheeks hollow. I looked nothing like myself and exactly like I felt. 

Knocks rang on the main door, but I didn’t welcome anyone in. I couldn’t. My voice wouldn’t come even if I tried to muster the energy to speak. My guest must’ve either realized that or disregarded their manners entirely because within a minute, the door opened and two sets of footsteps along with the squeak of a rolling cart began to fill the crushing silence all around me. 

“Mari,” Drusilla’s young voice sounded, a warm and familiar balm to the icy ache in my chest. “I’ve brought your dinner.”

I turned, planning to give her a nod and the closest thing to a smile I could muster, but Ezra’s presence behind her wiped all tenderness from me. I gave him a disapproving look that I hope conveyed my disinterest in his company before turning back to the fire. 

“We thought we’d eat with you,” Drusilla persisted, the clatter of plates being laid on the table in the dining room beside me forcing my eyes to close in defeat. “The Great Hall is packed with soldiers and noblemen. Not exactly the place for a girl. At least this girl.”

I made myself nod, my head slightly turning in the direction of the armchair beside the one I was seated in. Ezra’s presence was unbearable. Suffocating. Yet still as intoxicating as it had been before my world shifted on its axis when I caught him and Lady Emita in the hall. 

“I wanted to check in on you,” he began, his voice low enough that Drusilla wouldn’t overhear it in the next room. “And I apologize for it taking so long for me to do so. I’ve been…occupied.”

“There was no need.” I surprised myself with my own voice after not hearing it for so long. 

“Regardless,” he managed, though I could see he was struggling with his own shock. “It’s my duty to ensure your welfare.”

I scoffed—or perhaps it was more of a laugh—and shook my head. 

“I’m perfectly well,” I assured, however much of a lie it had been. 

“You don’t look well,” he noted, his eyes darting across each of my dull, lifeless features. “You look…broken.”

I didn’t mask my rage, those same features sharpening as I stood up and faced him. He looked rattled, perhaps even a bit fearful, but remained seated. 

“I wasn’t his to break and I am not yours to fix,” I seethed. “Find somewhere else to eat your dinner.”

“Marigold,” he pleaded, soft and gentle, but no less desperate. 

“Leave me.” I ordered him away like a peasant, causing his eyes to sharpen a bit. “I am your Queen, and I am ordering you to leave me. So leave.”

Ezra stood, his jaw settling with a grind that told me he had many things he wished to say in retort but refrained. I watched him walk away with a look of pure hatred while fighting the feeling of pure longing swelling inside me, ready to suffocate me. 

“Mari,” Drusilla scolded, her purple eyes fixing on mine as she lingered in the archway of the dining room. “I like the Hand. He’s kind.”

“Kind men don’t work for men like Kaius,” I replied, dry and cold. The tone shocked her into silence, and I immediately felt sick with regret. 

She deserved none of my anger, and yet, here I was doling it out. 

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, crumbling back into my chair. “I’m just…tired.”

“You’ve been tired ever since your wedding,” she noted, quietly creeping into the spot Ezra had sat in just moments before. “It’s worrying, not only to me but…the Hand. The two of you seemed to behave like friends before. What happened?”

“Adult things, Dru,” I managed. “Things that I don’t want you having to shoulder.”

“Did he…did he hurt you?” she asked, careful but concerned. I turned to her, my eyes softened. 

“The Hand did not physically hurt me,” I replied, my words chosen carefully. 

No, he didn’t physically hurt me, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from the wounds caused by the sight of him with another woman. No, he didn’t hurt me, but wasn’t it worth mentioning that I hadn’t once thought of what Kaius did to me? That the thought of Ezra with another person took precedence over that?

“Then why—“

“The food is getting cold,” I said, deciding that even though the thought of eating with this pit inside my chest made my stomach turn, I would do it just to avoid more questions. 

Drusilla took the seat beside me at the table and eagerly began on her plate, the silence pouring over us more comfortable than all the questions for the time being. But given the curious and persistent young woman she was, it didn’t last long. 

“I know you hate him, but I like him,” she offered in between bites. “And I trust him.”

“Why?” I didn’t know why I asked, or why it was so important to me that he’d earned her trust. Trust that was not easily given over given her background. 

“He could have thrown me into a room no bigger than a dungeon like all the other servants, but he didn’t. He set me up in a real bedroom, with a giant bed and books to read. When I made a comment about the lack of female servants and the unease I felt because of the male servant’s gazes, he could have ignored me, or told me to get over it, but he didn’t. He went out and hired a whole team of women from the shelters in town, and then he went and got rid of all the men I’d said had lingering eyes.” I focused my eyes on my plate, pushing around peas to arrange them into different shapes. Anything to distract myself from the fact that Ezra, however uninterested in me, might actually be a decent man. “And with you—“ My eyes shot to hers. A warning, and an invitation. “I’m no expert when it comes to royal protocol, but I can’t imagine it’s customary for the King’s Hand to take such care of his Queen. He has duties, an entire army to oversee, and yet, he’s stopped me in the halls morning, noon, and night to ask about you. To ask if you’re eating, to ask if you’re sleeping, to…ask. He cares for you, Mari, in a way I’m not quite capable of understanding yet. But even in my inexperience and naivety, I can see that you care too.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, my shoulders shrugging instead. 

“I don’t care, and neither does he,” I managed, soft but firm. “That is how it’s supposed to be and how it will remain.”

“Mari—“

“Finish your sprouts,” I scolded, tapping the rim of her plate with my fork. She gave me a look that screamed pure adolescent disdain, but obeyed, stabbing into the sprout like she had a vendetta. I watched as she lifted it to her mouth and made a face as she chewed, a smile creeping its way onto my face at the simplicity of this moment. 

No awful husbands, no infuriating Hand’s, just two girls having a meal together, doing all they can to make the other feel better. 

“I’m sorry for my mood lately,” I said, helping her clear the table after our dinner was finished. “I’m still adjusting to this new life, but…having you in it has been a bright light to all this darkness. I just needed you to know that.”

Drusilla frowned, but there was no sadness in her eyes. Instead, she looked…well, she looked happy. As if she had been waiting for this reassurance. 

“Sisters,” she smiled, offering me her pinky. I chuckled, once again shocked at the sound, and coiled my own pinky around hers. A promise, one that neither of us took lightly. 

“Sisters.” 

After two more days of total isolation, I began to go stir crazy. I read myself into slump of boredom, then played the pianoforte until the music began to sound like nails raking across stone, before finally resorting to a bit of physical labor by rearranging my sitting room not once, not twice, but three times until Drusilla was begging me to go out and expel some of my energy on Ezra’s soldiers. That I declined, but agreed to give her some reprieve from my company by going for a long, hopefully draining, walk. 

I decided to stay in the castle to avoid unnecessary stares from the men training out in the snowy courtyard, even if these stone walls reminded me of my helplessness. My prison sentence. 

Kaius’s quarters took up the entirety of the West Wing of the castle, all five floors reserved for him and whoever was unfortunate enough to be invited. I had no interest in exploring his multiple council rooms, private suites, and torture chambers anyway. 

As I walked through the first floor of the East Wing, I managed to lose all sense of direction, the dark, lamplit stone walls all blending in together until I found myself in a narrow corridor, lit by only a few torches. The hair on my arms stood, a sense of dread and unease curdling my stomach until I was sure my lunch would find its way onto the stone beneath my slippers. 

I reached a corner in the hall, the corridor to my left shrouded in darkness so black I swore I had stumbled upon hell itself, but it was the giant stone door on my right that wrought the most fear. It wasn’t particularly menacing, it’s stone the same as the one leading into my suite, but it was the lock hanging by the doorknob that startled me.

What was so dangerous in this castle that it had to be locked inside? And more importantly, who held the key to unlocking this monster?

“I wouldn’t go adventuring in there,” a familiar voice, Ezra’s voice, spoke from around the shadowy corner. I gasped, clutching my chest to soothe the hard thump of my heart. When the fear subsided and irritation set in, I glared at him, watching as he came closer into the faint torchlight. He was dressed in his leathers—he must have been outside training with his men. 

“Do you just stand and wait in the shadows praying that you’ll stumble across someone you can pester?” I spat, not failing to notice the slight lift of one of his brows. 

“No,” he said, fighting back a smirk. “Just you, Your Majesty.”

I didn’t bother fighting back an eye roll. 

“What’s in there?” I finally caved, pointing at the door to my right. 

“I’d tell you, but I doubt you’ll be able to sleep knowing what lies under the same roof as you,” he said, sincerity thick in his tone. I shivered and took him for his word. “If you’re looking to explore, though, I could show you other, less haunting parts of the estate.”

I fought a sneer away at his offer. Given the way my heart still pounded in his presence, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with him for an entire afternoon. 

“I’m sure I can see myself around,” I said, trying to be as polite as I could, all things considered. “Is it just the one dungeon, then?”

Ezra laughed. Something small and airy, but a laugh. 

“Perhaps I should draw you a map,” he said, not fighting his smile any longer. “Err on the side of caution.”

I gave him a condescending smile and said, “Perhaps.”

“I can see you’re still angry with me,” he said, following me down the hall as I made my way back from where I came. 

“I feel nothing towards you,” I spat, crossing my arms over my chest. 

“Have you forgotten my gift?” he said, and though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear his amusement. It was enough to earn him a glare from over my shoulder. “You’re angry, and you’re…I don’t know what it is. But it’s heavy. It’s…raw.”

“Irritation, likely,” I chided, reaching a dead end in the corridor. “Since you insist on joining me, can you please be of some use and guide me out of this awful maze of a prison.”

“I can be useful in many ways,” he returned, his eyes locked on mine as I turned to him. “Ways I’d love to show you one day.”

I gave him another roll of my eyes, an exasperated chuckle slipping from my lips as I shook my head and gestured at the stone wall in front of us. “Let’s start with getting out of this maze first, perhaps?”

Ezra didn’t seem to take my tone or scowl to heart—he actually seemed to rather enjoy the look of me rolling my eyes given the wide grin he wore as he lifted his palm flat to the stone. My gaze flickered between his good hand pressed against the wall and the golden glow of his irises, so molten I was sure if I looked too long at them I’d start to melt. 

“Wh—“

“I’m trying to focus on building a portal for you, Your Majesty,” Ezra cut in, though no true frustration could be found in his tone. “Or would you rather we exit through one of those dark corridors you nearly sprinted past?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, half tempted to overcome my fear of the dark—or rather, what lurked in it—and leave him here just to prove him wrong. 

But that would only end up with my lost down another corridor, wishing I’d set my pride aside and let him work. So, I did. 

It only took a minute longer for the stone to fade into sheer darkness, a black so black my eyes almost couldn’t process the color. I stumbled back, though instinct told me there was no reason to worry—my instinct, it seemed, was a fan of the man beside me, smirking proudly. 

“See what a little ounce of patience can achieve, my dear Mari?” he tipped his chin towards the void in front of me, distracting me from bringing up the fact that he’d used a nickname that only the closest to me used. I couldn’t deny that it sounded good coming from his lips. “It’s only dark for a moment.”

“Where does it lead?” I prodded, my tone still sharp from fear. 

“That depends,” he shrugged. “Where would you like it to lead?”

“That seems like something one might have considered before opening a portal,” I chided.  

“It leads anywhere,” he corrected. “Anywhere your heart desires. Although, I wouldn’t venture too far without a way back.”

“Meaning, if I were to choose to run back home, or to my sisters, I’d have to bring you to ensure—“

“To ensure your husband doesn’t come hunting after you like one of his poor beasts,” he cut in, his tone dry and serious despite his previously light mood. 

“Worry not, dear Hand, I have no intentions of making a great escape. I doubt my father would welcome me back in Solis even if I tried.” 

Ezra’s eyes softened, his jaw ticking as he continued to stare at me as I continued to stare at the void, neither one of us willing to break first. 

“Do you trust me?” he spoke after a beat of tense silence, my eyes gliding over to meet his as my brows furrowed with confusion. 

“Today?” He gave me an unimpressed look. “Yes, Ezra, I trust you. Mostly.”

“Then take my hand,” he said, his voice low and raw and…desperate? What reason did he have to be so desperate for my trust? For my touch?

“Where?” I asked, hovering my hand above his. 

“My favorite place in the entire world,” he smiled. “Where it’s green and happy, where there are no worries. Only nature. Only peace.”

I swallowed, suddenly aware that taking this step was pushing the line I had drawn between us. I’d learn more about him, what makes him happy, what makes him feel at ease. He and I would go off together without a single person aware that we were even missing. The possibilities of stupidity had multiplied in the mere seconds it took for him to make the offer. 

“I…” 

My hand trembled as I tugged it back to my side, reason winning out over curiosity. This time, at least. 

“I think I’ll just head back to my suite,” I said hurriedly, lifting the hem of my dress as I approached the void. I swore I could hear a sigh slip from his lips as I took the first step into the portal, though that could have been the sound of me gasping for air as the darkness washed over me. 

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, being in the space between all things, however fleeting it was. One second I was nowhere, darkness and nothingness threatening to consume my very soul, and the next I was tripping over the rug in my sitting room, my knees screaming at me as I hit the hard floor with a yelp. My head whipped around, desperate to shout at Ezra for my own clumsiness, but there was no more portal, and certainly no Ezra. 

I was surprised by the guilt that rotted my stomach as I sat on the floor in the middle of the room, knees scraped and head aching. He’d offered up a piece of himself with me to share, something I was sure not just anyone received, and I turned him down without so much as a thank you. 

I hadn’t even looked him in the eye. 

EZRA 

An entire day had passed since the interaction in the corridor. Since Mari drew a clear line right between where she and I stood. Though the rejection stung, I couldn’t find it in myself to blame her for it. I was not a part of her plan—a plan I had carefully conceived and executed without her knowledge. All to get her here. To use her for her light, for the half of me that was missing. The half that would give me enough power to set things right in this Kingdom and give retribution to my people. 

But that plan was cracking under the weight of my feelings for her, feelings I knew were born not out of something as temporary as lust or love, but belonging. She was the missing part of my soul that I was meant to find by birth, destined to fit together like the final pieces of a puzzle. And she had no clue. 

“Is there any particular reason you called for this little meeting, Your Highness?” Emita purred at me, half-bent over my desk in the conservatory above my suite. The entirety of both rooms were warded with magic, hiding everything spoken, everything done inside these walls from the likes of Kaius and his crones. 

“That’s all over, Emita,” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “This is a business matter.”

“Which explains why I got an invite.” 

My eyes lifted to my dearest friend since childhood, a Fae noble serving as a Captain of Kaius’s army, Cassander. Standing half an inch taller than me—a fact he loved to throw in my face—with golden, shoulder length waves, and dark blue eyes, he was always what I imagined a King to be. His temperament was fair and light, and yet his determination and loyalty was as fierce as a lion, a balance that is not often stumbled upon. 

“Hello, lovely Emita,” he purred, smirking at her as she stomped away from my desk to her favorite chair overlooking the dark, snowy grounds. “In a mood again?”

“I’m always in a mood when you’re around, loathsome Cassander,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Children,” I sighed, gesturing at the seat next to where Cassander stood, urging him to sit and listen rather than continue to pick on Emita. “We need a new plan.”

“No, we don’t,” Emita hissed. “The plan was perfect—“

“The plan requires us to take a woman hostage and possibly incapacitate her by literally pulling the light out of her,” Cassander interjected. “I’ve always been against the plan.”

“There’s no other way to set things right without that power, Ez,” Emita persisted. “I’d like for my Kingdom to not turn into ice. I’d like this Kingdom to not succumb to the dark. I’d like—“

“There’s another way,” I cut in, rubbing two fingers along the hair on my jawline. 

“Oh, Gods,” Cass smirked. “The way I originally suggested, you mean?”

Emita jumped to her feet and bounded over to where I sat, still calmly stroking my chin. 

“Please tell me how you plan to seduce and mate with a woman who’s already married? A human, might I add.” My eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, taking in the equal amounts of shock, disbelief, and betrayal hidden in her stare. “You cannot fool the Gods, Ezra. They know what’s true and what’s a fallacy—“

“There is no fallacy,” I said, my voice low even with the wards in place. I had no desire for anyone to overhear the words that came out of my mouth next. “It’s true, Mari and I, and the Gods will agree.”

She stumbled back as if I had struck her. The look in her eyes was enough to make me feel as guilty as if I had. 

“How can you be sure?” Cass chimed in, ever the levelheaded one. 

“I can feel it in my bones. In my soul,” I said, standing from my chair. “She is the light to my dark, and I—whether she realizes it or not—am the dark to her light. It calls to me every time I see her. That taunting glow. My shadows sing for her when she’s near, as if they…as if they’ve found home after a long journey.”

“I might cry,” Cass teased, earning an eye roll as I seated myself on the edge of my desk, still lost in thought. 

“That still does not promise a single thing,” Emita spoke through clenched teeth. “She could fall in love with her husband, or she could betray us, or she could refuse the power exchange altogether.”

“She won’t fall in love with her husband, she won’t betray us, but you’re right,” I nodded. “There’s no way of knowing whether she’ll agree to the exchange. But seeing as the alternative means that I will have to kidnap, imprison, and possibly kill her, I’ll take my chances.”

“Ezra, do you have any idea—“

“Oh, shut up, Emita,” Cass groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re just upset because this means no more secret visits to the conservatory.”

“Cass,” I warned, glaring at him. “This isn’t about us, it never has been—“

“Until you found your mate, right?” Emita spat. “Then it became about what you want. If it was about the greater good, about our cause, you would do what we agreed on. But you want this. Selfishly, you want her.”

“So what if I do?” I hissed back, stepping towards where she stood without a trace of fear on her face. “This is the new plan. You can either get on board or find another Fae Prince to align yourself with. But I am not going to hurt her if I do not have to. More than that, I want what’s promised to me. All of it.”

“And you’re going to get all of us killed in the process, Your Highness,” she spat back before turning away, her heels clicking on the stone floor as she stomped her way to the door and saw herself out. 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Ez,” Cass smiled, standing up and walking over to give me a squeeze on the shoulder. “Even if it means the lovely Lady Emita will no longer be a member of ours.”

“She will,” I insisted. “She wants her husband dead too much to give up now.”

“Such pure intentions,” he chided, making himself comfortable at my desk as I remained standing in the center of the room, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the night sky. “When can I meet your mate?”

“You haven’t yet?” I asked half heartedly, turning away from the sky that had an alarmingly fewer amount of stars in it. Soon, there would be none. Just complete darkness to rule over the land of Nox. 

“As if you don’t already know that,” he chuckled. “C’mon, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Why do you want to meet her?” I prodded, that biological instinct to protect my mate taking over all reason. Cassander was the most trustworthy man I’d ever known, far more so than myself. 

“I’m curious,” he shrugged. “It’s not often that someone comes along and changes the entire world.”

I leveled a disbelieving look at him, making him laugh. 

“Does she have a sister?”

“And there it is,” I laughed despite the stress weighing down my shoulders. “They’re all spoken for, I believe.”

“Back to pining for Emita it is,” he sighed. “Don’t you think our testy back and forth would make for a passionate coupling?”

“I think she’d kill you in your sleep,” I returned with a half smile. “And that would make me inconsolable, seeing as you’re the closest thing to family I have anymore.”

“You’d still have Gail,” he shrugged, though I knew the thought of leaving his younger brother behind in this world plagued him each and every day. 

“Speaking of,” I smiled. “I happen to know a lovely girl who’d do well with a friend.”

“Are you trying to set my brother up with Emita? He’s only sixteen!”

“I meant a girl his age,” I replied. “Drusilla, she’s the handmaiden for Mari.”

“Mari,” he teased, and I chose to ignore it. 

“She’s become something like a sister to Marigold,” I gave him a pointed glare. “I doubt she’ll leave her behind, nor should she. Perhaps if she becomes attached to Gail, it would help convince Marigold to join us when we finally make our move.”

“You mean to use my brother as a tool?” he asked, his voice flattening into something resembling anger, though I couldn’t be sure as I’d never actually seen Cass angry. 

“I mean to introduce Gail to a new friend,” I shrugged. “The result of that friendship is just a bonus.”

“Is the girl kind, at least? Smart?” 

“She’s exceptionally bright,” I declared. “She’s visited me a few times to use the telescope and borrow books on astronomy, which Gail has an affinity for. And yes, she is kind. Nothing like the world she was born into.”

Cass seemed to deliberate, his knee bouncing as he sat in my chair with his hands folded over his lap. 

“Fine, arrange a meeting,” he conceded. “But I will be there as a chaperone.”

“As will Mari, no doubt,” I added. “Try not to scare her off, will you?”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” he assured. “Emita is likely working on acquiring some sort of poison to slip into her meal as we speak.”

“If she’s to poison anyone, it’ll be you and I, dear brother.”

At least, I hoped it would.

[gor3sigil]

Tailor your skin

[TW for mention of ED, rape, bullying, transphobia, sexual assault, transandrophobia]

[This text is one of the selection I'll put in my next issue of my zine, "From behind Tinted Windows and Cracked Screens", focused on transandrophobia. I was too happy with it not to share it. It's like the one I shared a while ago, but better, to me.]

My birth was a disaster. A disaster of closed call death, disease in undevelopped lungs, veins and poisoned flesh.

Growing up to be overprotected and neglected simultaneously. A clumsy and awkward kid trying to fit in, yet struggling to see the appeal of being like everyone else. My face hidden behind my long hair and my body behind baggy black clothes covering a starvation that no one was going to see anyways, I was still the curvy “looks-older-for-her-age” teenager. And then, I was trans.

What a surprise it was. Suddenly the mean girls who were making fun of my wasted attempts at femininity were claiming I was a woman too beautiful to be anyTHING else. My parents who complained about me being a tomboy all my life were scared to death of being right, after all these fights !

For my peers, the proud bisexual girl I had been had been eaten alive by my desire to escape my True Nature. Cis straight women who never were my friends would have switched up and given me head for me to stay the Holy Female their flawed feminism was forcing me to be, and to stay, for sisterhood, for the Cause.

I was turn in turn a victim or a traitor. My femininity raped out of me but not my love for men. Men scared me from being a woman but not from becoming one of Them. I was bullied from being an outcast but not out of being trans. I was a Lamb enough but not so weak I couldn’t be the Big Bad Wolf.

I started drinking almost at the same time I realized I was trans and I lost more friends over a simple switch of pronouns than I ever did after a drunken meltdown.

The sisters who swore to protect me told me now to catch the blows for everything I had never been nor done. And the final straw was seeking euphoria using a gender swap app and seeing my father staring right back at me.

What do you think I fled, then ? Do you think I doubled down ? Do you think I went head first into the pool of a manhood made with my bare hands and spite ? Or did I melt myself into a mold I didn’t fit it, so sure I was to never find safety or softness or tenderness or bonding ever again ? Did I ran away in the moods like a wounded animal, did I rather got sick from dehydration than having to risk seeing my reflection in the water I drank ?

I could go on for eternity, there are so little words to describe the isolation, the alienation you feel when being on your own makes you unsafe and seeking your kin makes you a predator. I went from a healer to the one taking the blame for men who broke me just as much, whom I also swore I’d never become, not in a million years. But in the confusion of trauma, it’s easier to bite someone who won’t bite back, isn’t it ?

I could tell you it gets better. I will tell you, in fact, that it does. It does get better in yourself, when you find your inner peace, your inner strength. When the mirror becomes a friend that shows you excitedly all the subtle changes that comes with shedding out of your shell, that there is a community waiting for you out there. That you deserve every bit of love and support, that you are not a traitor, that your manhood is holy, oh so holy, your transness is too, in short, YOU are. My beloved, as much as I hear your raw suffering, the weight of the fear of becoming the ones who hurt you, it won’t happen. I promise you. You are a treasure, you make this world a better place, and you deserve no shame, no pointed fingers, no mean laughter. If you can’t trust yourself, trust the process.

I assure you that when the sun will rise, one day, and you open your eyes to see the big blue sky, you’ll feel it. The comfort of belonging. The warmth of your skin, finally fitting right.

[lemonhemlock]

Hi Lemon! I know you’re enjoying your BG3 right now so no rush, but I’ve been thinking of some F+B lore combined with GRRM’s infamous post about the show, and I’m a bit confused. He claims that the show could replace Maelor with Jaehaera in his death scene in order to give Helaena the grief she needs to meet her suicide, but that wouldn’t work because “Jaehaera has a huge role to play as Aegon's next heir.” It was my understanding that she was never named Aegon’s heir, and was in fact considered “simple” (likely Westeros’ version of mentally challenged) as a way to avoid having Aegon name her in the first place. But this seems not the case? Did I misunderstand, or is this more him tearing into the show and maybe fudging some details?

My other issue (I don’t blame him for being mad of course, did we not all have problems with HOTD S2 lololol) is he’s also fixated on Maelor as the reason for Helaena’s death in the first place, yet we’re given a few suggestions for her suicide, and the maesters even question why she would kill herself now when Daeron is seemingly very close to recovering KL for the Greens. I assumed it was a combination of many things; she has been mad with grief since Jaehaerys’ death, her daughter is long gone, her husband gravely injured and also unknown to her, and she is a prisoner in her castle. Finding out about Maelor’s death would likely have been the final straw, but again, it’s not presented as the sole reasoning here? Idk maybe that is just me nitpicking! I’m glad he laid into the show, but having spent a while discussing F+B with friends, it’s always funny to me when he comes out with “actually this was what happened.” Okay, you didn’t write it that way 😂

Hope things are well with you!

Hi there! I hope the same for you! <3

So, I definitely think that GRRM went on and on about Maelor in his post because that was the tamest aspect he could criticise without burning bridges with the show executives. And perhaps that is why it comes out like Maelor is more important than he truly is in the books. That post was more of a strategy push than anything, he wanted to publicly show he was REALLY upset and that he was ready to air his concerns publicly if they don't stop compromising the integrity of the story.

So, in that regard, the heart of the issue is that, in the show, they've basically eliminated any reason for Helaena's suicide. She was sad all of 10 minutes about Jaehaerys, is over it already in the S2 finale, doesn't give a shit about her brother's impending doom, doesn't give a shit about her brother-husband's condition. What is there to be sad about? Despairing enough so that she'd fling herself out of the window? Unless they'll make Rhaenyra herself push her (they won't) or it's going to be framed as another fucking accident, there's no way to explain her death. So it's easy and safe for him to keep on about Maelor, since this is a problem anyone can understand, no matter which side of the team wars they're on.

Coming back to Jaehaera, I've always maintained that there is no reason to give her a learning disability unless GRRM never meant for her to be considered as a proper inheritor in the first place. Even if Aegon II had been the world's most feminist dad, he couldn't have passed the throne to her, because she wouldn't have had the capacity for rule. So, if GRRM intended for Aegon to truly grapple with this issue of wanting his line to continue but only having a daughter and how to present this as a solution when he just deposed another woman, then he wouldn't have made Jaehaera "simple" and disqualified her from the start.

So, maybe he realised that and regrets it? Maybe FB was a way bigger volume with many more details that explained all this but they had to be cut for length? And Jaehaera's situation was one of those sections that got the axe?

If GRRM is reading my blog and needs reasons to justify himself rhetorically (LOL), I can provide one for free: IMO, if you remove her being condition and deem it untrue gossip (let's say), Jaehaera being named Aegon's heir was never an issue, because it respects Andal Law. It doesn't even make the greens hypocritical or scheming villains for deposing Rhaenyra. As per Andal Law, Aegon is the elder son of Viserys II, so he should inherit, and Jaehaera is his only living child, so she should inherit after him. A son comes before a daughter and a daughter comes before an uncle (or a nephew). Easy!

it’s always funny to me when he comes out with “actually this was what happened.” Okay, you didn’t write it that way 😂

This is true enough. :)) I think that, for all this talk of how interesting it is to write backstory like a history book and present various possible versions (which it is!), a writer MUST surely "know" deep within his heart of hearts which of those he intended to be true and which not. Come on. :)) At least for SOME things.

[inriospocket]

ugh daisy!! i hope you’re doing well love. i know requests are closed but i thought of this shit while i was walking back from the train in the city and i started chuckling in my head. the idea of the reader dragging rio to couples therapy/marriage counseling because she has been hassling him about it for a min because he’s always away and he’s juss like im not doin that shit so the reader tricks him into going by saying she has an appointment nonchantly on the way back home... (1/?)

(2/2) and when he finds out what the deal is while he’s sitting there he’s not having it. legit he’s like “why tf did you bring me here?” “see this is what i’m talking about.” Agahahah. his s/o is just rambling on about a bunch of tangz he’s been doing as of late/been an issue in their relationship and he’s just like “that’s not me. iunno do that.” with his lip all twitched up in disbelief that is happening and that she’s airing out their dirty laundry...

---

Again, sorry this is so late but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

One session

word count ♡ 1,042

summary ♡ Your marriage with Rio is struggling and you push the idea of marriage counseling.

situation ♡ angsty

---

Your chest was heavy as you stood bent; your hands on your knees to catch your breath after your run. You used to hate running but after a while, it felt like you were finally able to run from your problems. 

At least just around the neighborhood for a while. Not to mention the high it gave you. The high that reminded you of what it felt like to be with Rio for the first time.  

Now, every day you wondered if you’d ever get it back.  

You found yourself feeling the bed for him, or looking out the window to see if his car was still there but soon, you got used to just being merely a roommate rather than his wife.  

“I think we should go to therapy together.” You brought up one day as you caught him before leaving out like usual. He stopped in his tracks, thinking for a moment until he went back to grabbing his stuff.  

“I don’t need nobody telling me how to run my marriage.” He said, shutting it down quickly.  

You sunk into your cardigan, gripping the knitted material as you grew upset.  

“Run?” You huffed. “Like this was some sort of business arrangement?”  

“Y/N, I’m not doing it.” He said for the last time and closed the door behind him.  

You felt nauseous when he said your name. Where was the mama? The sweethearts, the darlings, the baby girls? You wore this gigantic rock on your finger but it’s like you were married to a stranger.  

You started to question if he really loved you anymore and that was the last straw for you. Could there have been someone else?  

No, you couldn’t think like that.  

But what you could do was book an appointment because whatever the hell was going on, you were going to figure it out the most logical and reasonable way, at least you hoped. You were slowly chipping away, and you needed someone to listen.  

You texted him later in the day to see if he would drop you at your “appointment” because your car “broke down”. Of course, he tried to get Mick to do it, but you insisted he did it and eventually he gave in.  

Rio wasn’t an idiot though because once he pulled up to a completely different building than your usual provider’s, he figured it out.  

“No.” he said, keeping his foot on the brake and refusing to park.  

“One session, please,” You looked at him with desperation. “Just one.”  

He wasn’t doing it for you, you suddenly thought. He was doing it to prove you right that it would be a waste of his time and-  

“I just don’t know when we became at odds with each other.” You sat across from your counselor uncomfortably.  

Julie immediately noticed Rio’s apathetic, condescending stance. He clearly didn’t want to be sitting there.  

“Can you elaborate on that?” Julie asked, her warm eyes looking into yours. A small gesture feeling infinite after everything you’ve been carrying.  

“He’s just always gone, and doesn’t care to listen and,” You sighed, almost feeling defeated.  

“Okay, let’s try rephrasing that. Instead of saying he doesn’t care to listen, let’s say ‘I don’t feel like I’m being listened to.’ We’re going to be focusing on individual responses and then we can come together. Does that make sense?” Julie explained.  

You took a deep breath as Rio irritated a sigh. “I feel alone, like a stranger to him. I feel like there’s something missing, and I want to be listened to because how I feel should be important.”  

Before Julie could get a word in, Rio gave his input. “I'm so sorry you don’t think I listen.” he said, condescendingly.  

“Don’t you dare make me feel crazy.” You said, your ears burning as you saw his cool stare.  

“See this is the shit I be talkin’ about.” He shook his head. 

Again, before Julie could interject, you decided fuck it to keeping your cool. Rio knew he was in for a treat when you casually started to laugh.  

“When you were fucking dirt broke, who had you even though I was piled in debt? Huh? When your brother let you go to jail, who put money on your books and drove 2 hours after my night shifts to make sure you were good?”  

“Cousin.” He had to correct, and you were a pinch close to losing it.  

 “I am the first person you call when something goes wrong regardless of what it is, and I got you and you continue to gaslight me and patronize me. I won’t condemn you, Christopher because I never have to worry about money and these lavish things but it’s all material,” You hesitated after you said that hoping Julie would take over, but she knew somehow you needed this.  

“All I wanted was you and you want something, or I guess someone else,” You pressed your eyes shut hoping it couldn’t be true, but your intuition is a hell of a feeling. You felt the old you, the vulnerable young girl, knowing the only thing she could trust is herself. 

Rio’s expressions turned into guilt once he felt the pain radiating.  

“You’re never home anymore. You don’t touch me. Why does it always have to come down to this?” You broke down.  

“It was one time.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his hand under his chin.  

You bit your lip to fight back the rest of your tears. “Thanks for your time.” You told Julie and walked out.  

You walked back to the car, wanting to throw up as he called your name again.  

Rio knew he fucked up but not like this. A part of him was in denial about what could have happened next.  

“Look at me, mama.” He said and it felt so foreign to you. You looked up at him, and he knew in that moment you would never in a million years look at him the same.  

Looking at him, you knew; your intuition was telling you.  

“The craziest thing is, Rio, I know you wouldn’t do it again,” You chuckled through your pain.  

“It’s just never going to be enough of a reason for me to stay.”          

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

((Charlie angst was the last thing I expected 😭 Idk where you want to end this lol))

In about a week Lucifer was up and walking, when he asked where Charlie was no one had a clear answer. Maybe she was just busy....... Too busy for him now that she knew he wasn't going to die.

Adam: You okay Lu?

Lucifer looked over to Adam, he had been staring out the window to see if he see Charlie come or go.

So far nothing.

Lucifer: I haven't seen Charlie in a while, I'm worried about her.

Adam: I haven't seen her either. She hasn't even done any of her therapy sessions.

Which was so unlike her, Lucifer knew that maybe Charlie needed a therapist of her own but he didn't know how to breach the subject without upsetting her. She was such a gentle soul he loves her so much.

He wished that he could have changed things between them, not locked him away for nearly 8 years in his own depression.

She didn't know how bad off he was, the last thing Lucifer wanted to do was burden her with his own issues. But maybe he should have tried something. He hates that Lilith kept them apart for so many years, Charlie didn't understand when she was a child.

Lucifer: That's not good.

He needed to find her.

Adam wasn't stupid, he had a feeling that not everything was water under the bridge with Charlie. Killing Lilith was probably the final straw and he could understand that.

But it was her or Lucifer. And he chose to save the love of his life.

Lucifer: I'm going to go see if she's in her office.

Adam: Okay....

Lucifer gave Adam a kiss and went to Charlie's office. He knocked three times.

Lucifer: Charlie? You in there sweetie?

He tried the doorknob and it opened, the lights were off and he walked inside closing the door. He looked around and this place was a mess. Papers everywhere, furniture overturned.

Family portrait slashed, but just their faces and not Charlie's.

Lucifer: Fuck....

Charlie: Dad? What are you doing here, you should be in bed.

Lucifer turned and saw Charlie standing there. Even though she didn't look mad he could see the undertone of her emotions.

Lucifer: I'm fine, no one's seen you in a while I wanted to be sure you were okay.

Charlie: I'm fine.

That was too quick, too cold. Not like Charlie at all.

Lucifer: You're not okay what is all this?

Charlie fixed her desk and chair: An accident.

Lucifer: Look, I know I'm not the best at this sort of thing....... But I can still listen to you. I'm here for you.

Charlie couldn't keep up her fake happiness anymore: You weren't for a long time.

Lucifer winced, okay he deserved that: I'm trying my best here and I'm trying now.

Charlie turned to look at him fully: Really? Is "trying" by fucking the man who nearly killed me and did kill mom?

Lucifer was stunned: I..... Charlie It's more complicated than that.

Charlie: I'm upset about mom but I understand, I could have lost you both. But he hurt me!

Lucifer: He's apologized and made up for it hasn't he? Even you have to admit he's not the same as he was before.

Charlie: What about mom!?

Lucifer: What about her!? Charlie, that woman was pure fucking evil, she made Adam out to be the bad guy and used me for power! She never loved me! I have loved Adam long before you were born and I still do and that is never going to change. I understand if you're mad at him, Hell, if you don't even like him but I love him. And I love you.

Lucifer: I'm not sure what happened those years it was mainly you and Lilith, but please just know I always wanted you. I have and will always love you. You're my only daughter and damn it I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. It was selfish and if I could turn back time I would.

He tried really hard not to cry, but this wasn't about him right now.

Lucifer: So please, stop lying to me. You're not fine. I think....... I think you should talk to someone too.

Moth!Adam having a nightmare! This takes place a few days after arriving in Hell.

@fanofstuff01 MOTH ADAM

---

Charlie: Hey, dad? Could you go get Adam up? He's going to miss out on the group activity!

Lucifer: Honey, if he isn't even going to put I the effort, he shouldn't be here!

Charlie: dad- please, he's only just got here. This is a big change for him. Can you just go wake him?

Lucifer reluctantly agreed and made his way to Adams bedroom. Charlie put him on a floor that had no other members, thinking it would help him get use to things.

Arriving at Adam's door, Lucifer smiled. He decided to take the opportunity to scare Adam. It was almost Halloween, after all.

Lucifer walked softly to the top of Adam's bed. He could see his antennas flicking about. Ljcifer stood by his head for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect opportunity to scare him.

Adam: mm- no, stop... don't leave... please don't leave...

Lucifer chuckled. It must have been some popr winner in Heaven Adam was talking about.

Adam: L-Lu... please stay- pick me, please... don't leave... p-please choose me-

Lucifer stopped laughing and stared at the man. Oh... it was Eden he was having a nightmare about. Shit. He backed away as Adam started to thrash, his wings unfurling.

Lucifer had no idea no idea what to do. The poor guy even started crying. He decided to wake him up. Lucifer couldn't watch Adam cry and grip his blankets. It hurt too much.

Lucifer: Adam... ADAM-!

Lucifer reached over to shake his shoulder but jumped and teleported out of reach of Adam and his wings when Adam suddenly shot up, breathing hard.

Lucifer wasn't too familiar with Moth demons, he only knew of Valentino, and even then, he hadn't had many interactions with him, so he wasn't too sure how good Adams' eye slight was.

Adam: Luci...?

Lucifers eyes widened at the nickname- and the way Adam said it. It reminded him of Eden. Adam sounded so desperate and hopeful. Hopeful that Lucifer was there with him, that his nightmare wasn't true.

Lucifer wasn't sure if he wanted to say anything, he hadn't noticed him yet. That was until he noticed Adam looking around the room, eyes landing on Lucifer.

He felt like he should say something. So he waves and smiles, but just as he's about to say something, he heard Adam choke out a sob and bury his head in his hands, his lower arms wrapped around his thin torso.

Adam: t-thats right... you hate me... why would you be here...?

Lucifers heart broke. He didn't hate Adam. He was an asshole sometimes and a bastard for attacking his daughter, but he didn't hate him. He felt like he should, but he couldn't.

After a few minutes of crying, Adam tried to find his phone. Lucifer could see it on the side table, so he made the phone float in front of his hand. Adam didn't notice the magic, but found his phone. He squinted until his eyes were met with the bright light.

Adam grounded when he saw the time. He was really late now.

Adam: ...fuck it... they don't want me there, anyway... s-should have j-just stayed d-dead

Lucifer stood in the corner of Adam's room for 20 minutes. All he did was hug his pillow and cry. He could tell Adam was tired, but he couldn't fall back asleep.

He never knew how depressed Adam was. But then again, he'd never a good conversation with Adam since he got here. Lucifer really took the opportunity to get as much payback as possible now that he had a contract with him.

He wonders if all of this started when he called him an unlovable piece of shit, that not even the scumiest angels wanted. He knew he overstepped, judging by the look on his face and the lack of response.

For the next week, Lucifer stood in Adams room before he went to sleep and before he woke up. It was always the same: Adam would cry himself to sleep, and he'd have a nightmare about being abandoned and wake up shaking, covered in tears in the morning.

As Lucifer was in his room this night, he was hoping it would be different. Adam was with Angel for most of the day and seemed to be happier. But as soon as Adam sat on the edge of his bed, he knew it wasn't going to be a good night. It was actually about to get a lot worse.

Adam started crying as soon as he closed and locked his door. Fiddling with something in his pocket. Lucifer could see him playing with something as he sat on the edge of the bed.

It wasn't until Adam sat up straight that Lucifer saw it was the angelic needle Nifty originally used to kill him. Where the fuck did he find that!?

Lucifer really didn't plan to get involved when it came to his night watching, but Adam pressed the blade against his scar from the original attack, and start to push in far enough for his dark red blood to start welling up and running down his chest.

Lucifer: NO-!

Lucifer jumped into action. Snapping the blade out of his hands and placing it in Lucifer's hands.

Adam instantly jumped and looked around. Lucifer could see the pain in his big, golden eyes.

Adam: L-Luci-fer... Luci... ?

Lucifer couldn't bring himself to say anything as Adam looked around. He covered his mouth as he felt a tear fall. Adams eyes locked him his. Shit.

Adam: ...please...? Luci?

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut.

Adam: Not even allowed to finish the job, huh...? I'm just g-giving them what they w-want...

He opened them slowly, and he heard the rustling of Adam's blankets.

That night was worse.

So much worse.

Lucifer has never seen Adam look so small even at his towering height of 11". Adam curled up, hugging a pillow as tightly as he can.

Adam cried to himself all night. He didn't fall asleep at all. Just cried and begged for Lucifer. For it all to end.

Lucifer finally learned how good Adams eye site was. Hed often looked directly at him but saw nothing.

All night, Lucifer just gripped the angelic blade and stood still all night, hoping Adam wouldn't hear his sobbing.

Dude my fucking heart 😭

Adam knew Lucifer was there, he had to be. Blades just don't evaporate out of your fucking hand.

Why couldn't he just let Adam die for good? Lucifer didn't even want him here, nobody did. Sure he started getting along well with Angel but big deal.

Other than height being a moth demon was fucking stupid. He could barely see! He even had to have the largest print enabled on his phone so he could see to use it.

Adam ran out of tears quickly, he was dehydrated from it and he wasn't exactly drinking water to put anything back.

Lucifer never wanted him, so why not just let Adam go? To torture him probably.

Oh look, Adam did still have some tears to cry.

[veryberryjelly]

dresses in gryffindor tower

pairing ; pansy parkinson x fem!reader

prompt ; Communicating through eye contact in a crowded room

wc; 1.1k

————————————-

At hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, every house had a reputation for something. 

Hufflepuffs were excellent healers and good at herbology. 

Ravenclaws were good at charms and super smart.

Slytherins were assholes who were occasionally good at potions

And Gryffindors… Gryffindors threw incredible parties that spread among all the houses and often throughout older years. 

This particular one had been in the works for a month and was definitely one of the best ones since the legendary ones in the 70’s.

The gryffindor common room had been charmed so none of the teachers would be able to hear the noise being made by all the students, the sofas usually crowding around the fireplace had been moved to the edges of the room incase people needed to sit down and recharge, and there was a long table full of drinks, both alcoholic and not, and picky food like crisps and a few bowls of sweets.

People from all different houses and years were scattered throughout the Gryffindor common room in anything but their uniforms and the password to the tower had been sent out on charmed pieces of paper to majority of each house, apart from a few people who were known to cause a bit of trouble among the houses. 

Stood by the tall window was you, dressed up in a short black polo dress that had been in your wardrobe for ages. you hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet because all you had been doing was going to class and then going to bed, occasionally hogsmeade but it was always too cold to wear it. So it had finally come out of its previously permanent place on the hanger. 

Pansy wore a similar one across the room, a silk green mini dress, talking to a few of her friends who were crowded around the drinks end of the table.

you had been stationed by the window for the last hour, occasionally talking to people you had a few classes with, but right now you were glad to have found someone to have a proper conversation with that lasted longer than two minutes. While you was leant against the wall, your classmate stephen was stood in front of you with his hand against the wall just by your head. The conversation had started off light and about the classes you both shared and what you wanted to do after hogwarts, but it quickly morphed into something you really weren’t liking. 

“ so, you want to go into hospitality after school ?” 

“ yeah, i’ve always wanted to help people even before I knew I was a witch. “ you spoke, fiddling with the straw in your drink

“ and what does your boyfriend think of your need to care for others ?” this was the question that made your shoulders stiffen and made you shift slightly on your feet.

“ i don’t have a boyfriend “ you said simply, trying your best to find pansy with the added issues of stephen blocking most of your vision of the room. 

By the drinks table, pansy had had her eyes locked on you all evening. It was hard to keep her eyes off of you in that dress, she thought you looked absolutely stunning. Every few minutes she would glance across the room, hoping to catch her girlfriend's eye so that she could try and convince you to leave and take advantage of your empty dorm room. But when she caught a glance of your shoulders tensing and your e/c eyes attempting to scan around the room, Pansy excused herself from the conversation with her friends to get a slightly better view of you in case she got the sense you truly needed saving.

“ well maybe I could change that, can’t have a pretty girl like you being all alone at these parties. “ 

your eyes looked everywhere but at the boy stood in front of you until you spotted pansy just to the side of stephen, pretty focused on your interaction.

Instead of responding to the boy stood in front of you, you shot your girlfriend a look of help, one only recogniseable amongst girls. The one that said ‘get me out of here’.

With that look, pansy set her drink down on a nearby table and walked over to where you were leant awkwardly against the wall. She stood beside stephen, making sure he knew she was there before the brunette spoke up. 

“ you want to get out of here, darling? Maybe we can get back to the dorm before the girls get back and have a little fun” she smile spreading across pansy’s face was enough to relax your previously tense shoulders. 

Without any regard for stephen in his slightly drunken state, you nodded and moments after, pansy had slid her hand into yours and taken you across the room so you could leave. 

Before you got out the door, Pansy picked up one of the bottles of fire whiskey from the end of the table, figuring it wouldn’t really be missed. 

“ thank you for saving me “ you muttered softly as you made your way to the slytherin dungeons hand in hand. Without a word, Pansy pressed a short kiss to the top of your head as you both continued walking. 

Suddenly the short dresses seemed like a bad idea with the amount of draft you got in this castle. 

But it wasn’t too long before you were walking into your dorm and pansy was setting down the firewhiskey on her bedside. 

“ my bed tonight ? “ pansy suggested, linking both of her hands with yours and pulling you towards the bed and sitting down on the edge, pulling you to straddle her lap. 

your arms slid around pansy’s neck, unable to wipe the smile off of your face as you rested your forehead against your girlfriends. 

Pansy’s hands smoothes over the black fabric of your dress, sighing contentedly at the way the fabric felt beneath her fingers. “ love this dress on you, think you should wear it more often “ 

your smile only grew as you pushed her fingers through pansy’s dark hair. “ you got to give me a reason to wear it “ 

There were no words for how wide pansy’s smirk grew at those words. “ i’ll give you a reason to wear it “ 

In one swift motion you were underneath pansy on the bed with the green fabric of pansy’s dress dipping down over her body, her silver necklaces hanging down close enough for you to bite. 

Pansy’s hands slid down to your hips, squeezing slightly and causing a soft yelp to escape your lips. She had done that so many times that she could expect that to happen every single time. 

And she loved the sound that came from your lips every… damn… time.

[herofics]

hi! you don't have to do this request if you feel uncomfortable (im sorry if it did)

could I have todoroki and bakugo after a stressful day lashing out at reader because reader kept being "difficult" by asking them to do somethings and refusing to do them themselves (if it makes sense)? but it turns out that reader has bad anxiety and other mental health issues that they didn't tell them about. so maybe this was the last straw for reader who ends up admitting themselves before they become a danger to themselves? and after some weeks they return to UA? you can change some stuff in here if you want! I don't want to make you uncomfortable

I’m not uncomfortable with this, no worries. I felt like this was a bit more time sensitive than a lot of the other requests I have, so I tried to write this quickly. Also I didn’t do Todoroki, because I feel like this wouldn’t really fit him. He so strongly doesn’t want to be like his father that he would never snap at the reader like that. But I do have these HCs about the same subject. This isn’t my best work, but I found it good enough to post

“Oh my fucking god! Shut the fuck up and leave me alone!” Bakugou yelled straight in your face.

You immediately stopped talking and just stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before marching out of his dorm room and towards yours.

Bakugou was so fucking pissed. He felt like you had been bothering him for hours, even though it had actually been a maximum of ten minutes and he just snapped. He had been so stressed lately and he had things to do, he just couldn’t deal with you right now. So he yelled at you, which he regretted almost immediately as you marched out of the room, but he couldn’t be bothered to go after you. He just slammed the door shut after you and threw a book across the room while yelling incoherently.

You got all the way to your room before breaking down. You barely got the door shut before your legs gave out and you were on all fours on the floor. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like there was a weight on your chest you just couldn’t get off.

You crawled towards your bed and sat down with your back against the edge of it. You just started sobbing inconsolably. You found yourself thinking “What’s the point if even he hates me?” and “Maybe I should just die”. Those two thoughts made you realize that maybe you needed help. You should’ve probably gotten help quite a while ago, but better late than never, right?

The next day you didn’t come to class, which had Bakugou wondering where the fuck you were. He didn’t exactly feel like apologizing, but he found himself getting worried, since he didn’t see you all day.

When he got back to his dorm room, he found a note taped to his door. He ripped it off and opened it.

“Hey Katsuki, I’m going away for a while to make sure I’m not going to hurt myself. Take care, see you in a few weeks”

Bakugou’s face fell. Was this his fault? Had he almost driven you over the edge? He would’ve never forgiven himself if that was the case. If you hurt yourself because of something he did, he would hate himself forever.

He tried to call you right away, but it just went to voicemail.

“Fuck” he hissed, and hit the door with his fist.

A few weeks passed, and the pit in Bakugou’s stomach just wasn’t going away. He had been trying to contact you every day but he never managed to reach you. Or maybe you just didn’t want to talk to him, but he hated to even think that could be the case.

Finally that same evening, he noticed you walking back to the dorms from the window of his room. You greeted your classmates that were hanging out in the common room, but wiggled your way out of the whole situation quite quickly and headed to your room.

Bakugou could hear you walking in the hallway past his room, but he didn’t have the courage to open the door and face you. How could he? He had been so awful to you. He just hit his pillow a few times, before placing it over his face and yelling obscenities into it. Your footsteps passed, before returning after a few minutes.

“Katsuki?” he heard from behind the door, which made him immediately perk up.

When Bakugou opened the door, he had an expression on his face you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Guilt. Clear and undeniable guilt.

“I’m so fucking sorry” he muttered, before pulling you into a bear hug.

“You’re suffocating me” you murmured.

“Sorry” he said and let go, still keeping his hands on your arms.

“I appreciate your apology, but I think we should also talk a bit” you said, motioning for him to let you into the room.

You both sat down on his bed and he kept holding your hand. You weren’t really sure if it was more for your comfort or his.

“I just want to make it clear that you did upset me, like a lot, but you’re not the reason I went away for a while. I just had a lot of shit going on in my head and what you said, made it all kinda come crashing down, so I decided I needed to do something before I did something bad” you explained.

“I know I can be a total asshole when I lose my temper, and I didn’t mean to upset you like that” he said remorsefully.

“I know” you sighed. “I’m pretty tired and I need to unpack my clothes, but you can come with me if you want to”

“Sure” he said, following you out of the room.

Bakugou had seen the destruction and dismay his actions could cause, especially in his friends and the people he loved. While he had learned a lot after coming to UA, he still had a long way to go before he could face some people on equal ground.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear  :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention. 

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes. 

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger. 

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator. 

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

���Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me. 

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

[sugamamacustard]

Please don’t let me go

Pairing:  Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, NSFW

Request: HIII my favourite author!!! Happy new year 💜. Wishing you a very happy 2021. Ok sooo i got a scenario In mind. You don't have to write it if you don't want to Reader (half wolf/half omega, and if you don't write half wolf, then omega) in a pack (maybe like you know joint nekoma, fukorodani and karasuno but it's ok if you don't write that, only nekoma then in case) where their pack hasn't exactly accepted them, they're very cold with her. Reader , who has madly been in love with kuroo (cuz I'm such a kuroo lover) for very long, doesn't mind and continues to take care of everyone, making sure their ok and basically like having a soft sweet motherly attitude despite how they treat reader. But at one point reader is just fed up and feels very hurt, thinking they hate them and blames themselves. They also have to keep seeing kuroo bring in other girls for his heat and that Hurts them a lot. So reader thinks they never needed them and slowly stops contacting them. That's when everyone realises they fucked up and tried to find them but they can't. Until one day reader comes to practice and says their joining another pack and apologies for not being enough and all, how would the pack and kuroo, who loves them, stop them, apologize and make it up with them? Angst to fluff, and if you want idk if you write it but nsfw. You don't have to write it ofc! It's just a quick scenario that came to my mind. Please ignore this if you don't want to write it, and sorry if it's too specific and long 🥺

Summary:   You were excited when the other packs joined yours, even finding solace in one of the alphas of one, but suddenly, you weren’t needed. Wanted. Not what he desired. And that hurt. So you do the only thing you can think of. Try to find someone who will comfort your poor omega heart.

Author’s Note: I’m your favorite 🥺 🥺 Happy new year babes!  And I was reading this, and I just kept getting more and more ideas and began writing it right away Hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open!

Keep in Mind! This heavily based off of my Dragon/Shifter! AU from my mainblog! (@Angstyclowns) . The long short of it, is that Shifters have three forms. The first, is completely human. Though the person still has some attributes (Better sight, smell, hearing, etc.) they don’t have any visible features. The second form gives the shifter about half of their features. Tails, ears, wings, fangs, things like that. The third is the “full form”. This is a full dragon, wolf, cat, dog, etc.. You aren’t able to talk in this form, but you do have full control of your actions. I can go into more depth in this AU! if you all want, be sure to let me know!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ The Fukorodani pack was big. Huge maybe. 

➵ It was made up of three different, smaller, packs that had combined for both numbers and power. Karasuno, (the namesake) Fukorodani, and Nekoma. 

➵ You were originally apart of Fukorodani, only really close with Akaashi and Bokuto and had yet to get close with anyone else. 

➵ You still cared for them though. 

➵ You prepped meals in the morning, making enough for everyone. 

➵ Made sure you always had band-aids just in case.

➵ You took the role of pack omega well. 

➵ But people still seemed to hold you at an arms length. 

➵ You at first brushed it off, as they were getting used to being in such a big pack, but as they got more comfortable with Bokuto and Akaashi, you began to feel this sense of unease. 

➵ It was obvious they didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t quite place why. 

➵ It soon got to the point where even Akaashi and Bokuto were spending less and less time with you. 

➵ Your omega was hurt and you felt completely deserted. 

➵ You had no idea what was happening. Did you do something wrong?

➵ You didn’t think so. You just did what you always did. Maybe you were too clingy. 

➵ Too overbearing. 

➵ Yeah, that was it. Right? 

➵ Too much too soon. 

➵ So you slowly began pulling away. You stopped making breakfast (Staying in your nest and feigning being asleep when Akaashi or Suga would come check up on you.). 

➵ Stopped carrying medical supplies. Which hurt at first when Hinata or Noya would excitedly ask you for a cartoon printed band-aid, but immediately frowned when you said you didn’t have any.

➵ You just stopped...caring? 

➵ You went on runs a lot more, staying out later and later and leaving earlier and earlier. There were days when no one saw you at all-- Bokuto ending up crying on those days, almost as if his alpha knew you were pulling away. 

➵ He would make an effort to spend the next day with you but then the process would just repeat itself. He’d be gone with Kuroo for days, weeks on end and you were stuck alone one more time. 

➵ “We always have an opening.” Daishou hummed, stretching his arms out as his forked tongue wiggled between his lips. Your tail swiped behind you as your ears fell back. “We could use a wolf like you. Strong legs, strong jaw, good looks-” 

➵ “Don’t.” You sighed, wrapping your tail around your waist and wringing it gently with your hands. “I appreciate the offer, but I- I can’t. I just-”

➵ “I get it. It’s that damned cat, yeah?” The olive haired alpha smirked, playing with one of his scaled fingers. He chuckled at your red cheeks, licking his teeth all the while.  

➵ It was not secret that you fell for the Pack alpha of Nekoma, Kuroo, quickly. Though Daishou (A snake shifter that you ran into during one of your all day runs) didn’t approve of the crush, he didn’t interfere with it. He respected it, in fact, encouraging it on days he felt good. 

➵ You could honestly say Daishou was one of your closest friends at the moment. He always allowed you into his territory, his pack supporting and loving you all the while. 

➵ He had offered to let you join his pack, in fact, but you turned him down. You were tied with Fukorodani, with Akaashi, with Bokuto. They were your family.

➵ Whether or not they saw you the same way, that was how you saw them. 

➵ Your inner omega kept reminding you that Daishou was also your family. 

➵ You suppose the final straw was seeing Kuroo laughing with some random Beta girl. She smelled like cheap perfume, making you reel. You merely watched as he kissed her neck, nipping her ear, quickly taking her to his room. His rut was around the corner so you knew what was going on. 

➵ Didn’t mean you had to like it though. 

➵ Maybe like a rebellious teenager, this kicked off that side you had been hiding.

➵ Instead of disappearing for a day every few weeks, you disappeared for days, one right after the other. You would pop in for a change of clothes, shift into your wolf and you were gone. 

➵ You were strategic about it too. You made sure one person saw you enter, just to assure everyone else you were alive. You made sure they were far enough away they couldn’t catch you even if they shifted-- which most did. They tried to talk to you, just once.

➵ But you had routes made in the deep of night to get you out of sight, running through water to get rid of your scent, just doing everything to make you disappear. 

➵ And slowly, but surely, Daishou and his pack began considering you their omega, just as you began forgetting about the Fukorodani pack. 

➵ Everyone on the other side just got worse though. More often than not, meals were either ordered in or skipped all together. Alphas snapped on each other, Betas snarled in retaliation, omegas were hissing and closing in. 

➵ While Bokuto and Akaashi were expected to be the worst of this all, they weren’t. While they growled and hissed and snapped, they didn’t snarl. They were recluse and kept away, looking for you day in and day out instead. 

➵ The worst of all was Kuroo. He snarled and snapped, baring his teeth at anyone who crossed his path. That beta girl? She ran out a week ago, bleeding from her hand because Kuroo had bitten her for touching him when he told her to go away. 

➵ Even Kenma had been on the receiving end of a near-close call, making everyone turn their attention to what his issue was. 

➵ They only got their answer on one of the few short trips you made back. You smelled heavily like the territory next door, so much so they could smell it from your room while you were re-packing your bag. 

➵ Your nest had been dismantled and one of the several blankets in there was folded and you began putting it into your bag, only for Kuroo to slam open your door. 

➵ You chirped in surprise, crawling back from the seething alpha. He was angry, you could tell, and you didn’t want to get in his way. 

➵ You bowed your head, quickly zipping up your bag before making your way to the window. 

➵ You couldn’t deal with him right now. Not with your feelings, not with his anger. You just couldn’t. 

➵ “Where the fuck are you going?” He hissed, stomping to your window and shutting it before you could crawl through. 

➵ “I- I don’t- Just-”

➵ He stopped you, sniffing your neck. “You smell like him.”

➵ “Who’s him?”

➵ “That fucking snake! Who else?!” Teeth are dragged dangerously down your neck, making you shudder. “What the fuck are you doing near him?”

➵ “Dai-”

➵ “Don’t fucking say his name. Answer the question. Why were you near him?! His pack?! We are right here. We’re your pack. Not them.” He sounded close to exploding,  making you whine as you withdrew. 

➵ He ran a hand through his hair as he paced in front of you. “Were we not good enough? Huh? You needed another pack? WHY WEREN’T WE GOOD ENOUGH?!” 

➵ You didn’t realize it, but you began shaking, slowly drawing in on yourself, trying to seem as small as possible. 

➵ You didn’t want to make the alpha angry. Why was he so angry? 

➵ “Tell me!” Looking up, you hiccupped as tears began streaming down your face, Kuroo having his own tears dripping down his cheeks. “Why wasn’t I good enough?”

➵ He collapsed in front of you, hands yanking on his hair. 

➵ And while you were hesitant, you slowly crept closer. He was shaking his head by the time you got close enough to hear him whispering “Please don’t leave.” Making your heart and omega whine. 

➵ “I-” You stopped. What was there to say? All of a sudden he wanted you here? Where was he the past however many weeks? 

➵ You wanted to scream at him. Turn and leave through the window anyway. 

➵ Leave this pack, and Kuroo, behind. 

➵ “Don’t leave me. I don’t care about the rest of them-- maybe Kenma-- but don’t leave me. Please. I can’t handle- I can’t handle not seeing you everyday. I thought I could. I thought I could fill the void with meaningless flings, but they couldn’t even touch me before I was aching for you. “ He was sobbing now, tears dripping down his cheeks. 

➵ You hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulder, allowing him to cry into your shoulder. He held you tightly, refusing to let you slip through his fingers as he almost had. 

➵ “I-I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Kuroo. I-I tried staying, and that didn’t work. I tried leaving, and that didn’t work either. I don’t want to leave but I can’t stay. I’m so touch starved and I can’t keep living like this!” You cried out, frustrated with all the mixed signals around you. 

➵ What did your pack want from you?

➵ “We’ll fix it! I swear, I’ll fix it myself. I swear on my life. I’ll fix it. Fix myself. Make myself that alpha you deserve. Please.”

➵ You said nothing. Only allowing him to hold you close. 

___NSFW___

➵ “Tetsuro!” You squealed, laughing as soft kisses were laced down your thighs. 

➵ “Kitten~” He responded, suckling a hickey right near your cunt. 

➵ You were wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and he was rabid seeing you, his pretty omega all nice and ready for him. 

➵ And his cock. 

➵ Sitting up, he pulled you onto his thighs with a swift movement, making you laugh once more.

➵ He smirked down at you once you calmed down, pressing a sweet peck to your lips, making you hum with satisfaction. 

➵ His hands trailed under his shirt to rest on your hips, keeping you close to him. You seemed so ethereal, sitting in the light that filtered through the window-- oranges and reds highlighting your body.

➵ “I love you. I love you so much.” He huffed, leaning his forehead onto yours, feeling the heat of your smile against his lips. 

➵ “I love you too, Tetsuro.” Another peck was pressed to his lips. 

➵ His heart felt so full, having you in his arms, having you in his grasp. He just couldn’t let you go. 

➵ He had almost done that once. 

➵ But he would never make the same mistake again. 

___

His cock dragged slowly out of your walls, sending shocks of pleasure and sensation wavering through your body as you shuddered. It wasn’t often you got to see the slow and sensual side of Tetsuro-- the one that would kiss your bond mark, the one that would tear up as he spilled praise after praise into your ear, the one that would hold a hand on your chest just to feel your thundering heartbeat only to pull your hand up to feel his own, which was just as bad--but when you did it left you  just breathless as he always did. There were days when you just needed this side and he always picked up on that, but some days he needed the solace he got with it as well. 

You’d always enable it, purring and whispering your own praises to him, kissing his temples when his emotions bubbled far to quickly for him to properly absorb, spilling over.  

It was times like this, when his forehead rested against your shoulder, did you feel closest. His pants were hot against your already flushed skin, adding already to your sensitive body. 

Running a hand through his hair, you waited for him to give you an indicator of what he wanted. What he needed from you at that very moment. 

When he didn’t move it hit you. He just wanted you close. To keep you close. To remind himself you were still there. To remind himself he won the war. He won you. He finally got the queen to his kingdom. The one he wanted from the star. 

And you would indulge him, running your both your hands through his hair and holding him close.  Even if you pretended not to feel the happy tears falling onto your shoulder. 

____

Soft sex Kuroo had me  🥺 🥺 

[wormstacheangel]

For The Girl Who Has Everything

Masterpost link for Reelin’ In The Years: Here

AO3 Link: Here

wc: 2.4k Summary:  Claire is too mad to even look at Cas let alone talk to him. Dean knew he had to step up because two people with messed up childhoods and anger issues really need to spend more time together talking about their feelings.

When Chuck was defeated, a lot of people came to the bunker to celebrate. Those times were a big blur to Dean, his focus was on finding a way to save Cas, and it wasn’t until he saw Claire run down those steps that the world focused again. She smiled at him, a rare big grin, before her arms wrapped around his neck to bring him down for a hug with an intoxicating giggle.

‘She didn’t know,’ Dean thought as his arms hung loosely at his sides.

He hid his face in her curls, not knowing how to face another kid Cas left behind because of him. He was holding his breath when she pulled away to look at him. Her eyebrows were raised in a question that Dean didn’t hear. Didn’t want to hear.

She repeated it, “Dude, where’s Cas? Is the old man sleeping or something?”

‘Yes.’ Dean swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

He didn’t look at the audience around them when he finally opened his mouth to say, “Claire, Ca—” He couldn’t say his name. He felt like it would tear the fragile wall that was keeping him on his feet if he did. “I’m sorry.”

Dean watched as her face twisted into confusion, understanding, and then settling into anger.

She was trying to fight the tears, but they fell as she yelled, “No! No, you were—Where were you? Why didn’t you protect him?”

“He protected me. He—he saved me.”

She looked at him with round eyes, shaking her head as if not wanting to believe it.

“Then it should’ve been you! You should’ve died! Not him!” Dean flinched at the words that have been echoing in his head since that night. “It’s not fair!”

Claire’s angry fist collided with his chest. He flinched at every hit but didn’t back away as her punches became sporadic but still filled with grief. Maybe even guilt.

“I’m sorry.” Dean knew those words did nothing to comfort, but he couldn’t help but say them. “I’m so sorry, Claire.”

She screamed in frustration until her punches weakened, and he was holding her. Then, finally, she fell against him, her face hidden in his chest as her grip tightened on his shirt.

She didn’t stay after that.

She walked back up the stairs with Jody and Kaia following behind her. Jack tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t even look at him. Dean couldn’t blame her.

It’s hard to look at the kid when he reminded them of the person they lost.

Of course, Dean never told Cas any of this.

Since coming back, Cas had been dealing with the silent treatment from the killer Barbie. She only replied with the thumbs-up emoji, and when Cas was too much, she responded with the middle finger emoji. A little warning advising Cas to back off.

She only visited him once, but that was when Cas was in the hospital. She freaked out, yelled at him for being stupid, and then passed out by his bed only to leave the next morning like nothing ever happened. Still, it made Cas feel a little better knowing she still cared, but she was dealing with it her way. Or, as Cas liked to say, she was dealing with feelings the Dean Winchester way. Of course, he’ll argue it wasn’t true, but he knows he won’t win that one.

Now he was sitting awkwardly in Jody’s living room watching Kaia and Patience play with Jack on the floor while Claire and Cas had a yelling match in the privacy of the backyard. Well, Claire was yelling while Cas was trying very hard to keep his tone even, which only made Claire angrier.

“I’m done talking to you!” Claire slid the glass door open and stormed through the living room.

“Then try listening to me!” Cas followed behind her, watching as she walked straight past the living room and towards the front door. “Claire. Claire, where are you going?”

She whipped around to glare daggers at Cas, eyes wide filled with tears, but she still looked at him with a pained grimace. “Did you even think of me? When you were out there being a damn hero. Did you-Did you think of me?” Her voice breaking on the last word made Dean flinch.

“Claire, of course-”

“No. No, of course, you didn’t. Cause if you did, then you wouldn’t have-” She bit her cheek as tears started to fall. She stood tall, presenting as strong, as her expression hardened. “You left me, Castiel. And now I-I don’t,” She looked around the room. It was quiet as everyone watched the interaction before her eyes landed on a little Jack in Kaia’s arms. She clicked her tongue before turning back to the door. “I’m leaving.”

“Claire.” Cas tried following her, but Dean quickly rushed up to stop him. “Dean. I may not have my strength, but I will-”

“Calm down, Rocky,” Dean had a hand on Cas’s shoulder to stop him. “I just wanted to stop you from making it worse.”

“I don’t think I can. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t.” He assures his boyfriend with a little smile, but Cas simply rolled his eyes at him. “Okay, you stay here. Talk to your son, and I’ll go talk to the other kid.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to say to her?”

“I don’t know, but like you said before. Two fuck up’s just understand each other.”

“I didn’t say-”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just let me handle this. You trust me, right?”

Cas made a face at that, not answering quickly enough before he said, “Just bring her home.”

“Gee. Thanks for the confidence, babe.”

Dean ran after Claire, forcing his way to her passenger side as she started to back up on the driveway.

“Thanks for waiting, kid. Where we going?” Dean buckled up just in time for Claire to slam the breaks. Unfortunately, he hit his head on the front dash because the damn seat was scooted forward, his knees were practically pressed against his chest, which made sense knowing a tiny Kaia would usually occupy the seat. “Ow.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Get out.”

Dean ignored her scary and oddly familiar glare as he pushed the seat back so his legs could fit. “Oh, come on. My treat.”

She didn’t have time to argue because Cas walked out of the front door—his trust in him really was lacking—and Claire decided that dealing with Dean was much easier than having to talk to Cas again. But, of course, he would take that as a compliment.

Claire drove with loud rocker girl music vibrating the windows and didn’t stop until she finally parked outside some ice cream shop.

“I want a shake.” She sniffled, and Dean did his best to ignore her red blotchy eyes for her sake.

“Sure, kid.”

They drank their shakes and shared some fries while sitting on top of Claire’s ugly little red. Well, she sat, and he leaned, but either way, silence remained.

He didn’t want to pressure her to talk—she would probably lie if he did—but still, he wanted to ease the tension between Cas and her, salvage a relationship he knew was important to both of them, but he didn’t know where to start.

Maybe he could start with his own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat as he felt the smooth ice cream start to turn to gum down his throat. He looked down at his shake, lifting the straw up and down to hear the gloppy sound while trying to figure out what to say to her.

She hummed, “‘bout what?”

“Not telling you. About Cas. What happened to him.” He sighed and looked back at her. “Sorry. I should have called, but I wasn’t—I was a mess. I couldn’t be there for you. I couldn’t even be there for Jack. I should have-”

“It’s okay.” She waved her hand up to stop him. “I-I get it. I mean, it’s not, but whatever.”

“So, are you gonna tell me why you’re mad?”

She rolled her eyes, once again the gesture was familiar, before slamming the shake on the hood and sliding off the car. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking so small as she kicked a pebble on the floor.

“He replaced me.”

Her voice was quiet. Almost like she didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“I know it’s stupid and-and I’m acting like a child, but…” She quickly sniffled again before running her hand through her hair nervously. Looking up to stare into the darkening sky, acting like everything was okay. “He’s not my Dad, but he’s the closest thing I have, and I just thought—I just thought that maybe he felt the same way.”

She shrugged, her lips pinching together as if trying to hold something back, before retaking control of her expression. A glare directed towards Dean replaced the lost child stare into the stars, but the lost child was still there.

“Kid…” Dean sighed, head scrambling for words.

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me.”

Claire teased with a little smirk. She definitely learned this from Dean or Jody. “Whatever you say, old man.”

“Old—Claire.” She let out a breath of a laugh before rolling her eyes away from Dean. “I’m trying to be serious. Cas… he loves you. He-he loves you like you were his own.” She didn’t look at him, but he could see her face scrunch up, ready to argue. “He worries about you constantly, and Jack knows all about you because he won’t shut up about how awesome you are.”

“He says that? He says I’m awesome?”

“Well, awesome is my word, but you get the gist.” He turns to face her even though she doesn’t meet his gaze. “Cas may not be your Dad, but he loves you like a daughter. Sometimes—yeah, a lot of the time actually—he makes stupid decisions, but it’s cause he is trying his best. And he cares. That dumbass cares way too much about the damn world, but he’s also someone who would give up the whole world if it meant keeping you safe.”

“Stop making excuses for him!”

“Claire, you gotta believe me. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She finally turned to look at him. “But he did. He hurt me! He left me!”

“He left me too!” Dean raised his voice; it sounded broken to admit such a thing out loud. And to Claire of all people. He slumped down against the car again and looked at the ground to ignore her big blue eyes throwing sympathy glares his way. “He left me—more times than you know. And—and don’t tell anyone I told you this—but I…I was scared. Each goddamn time I’m scared that this may be it! That this time…this time he won’t come back to me.”

“But he did.” Her voice sounded so far away.

“Yeah. Had to work a little bit harder on my end, but I got him.” He reached over and patted her shoulder. “We got him back.”

Something in the way her eyes went cold and far away made his fight drain out. He didn’t know what else he could do or say, but he opened his arms just in time to have her fall against him. His face mushed into her curls while he hugged her tight into his chest.

“Were you mad at Cas?”

Dean thought about it for a second. “No. I mean, I was at first. That asshole got himself killed over and over again. Leaving me alone.”

“But you had Sam. Jack.”

“Yeah,” Dean pulled back and looked down at her. “Well, you had Jody. Kaia. Alex. Patience and even Donna. Made it any easier for you?”

“No.”

“No.” He chuckled while she hid her face from him, asking him to continue. “But I was mad at him. Real fucking pissed, actually. At him. At…at everyone. Sam and Jack didn’t even wanna be near me.” He tries to shake off those dark memories of screaming and feeling nothing but agonizing loneliness. “I just shut down and gave up on…a lot of things because he was gone. Couldn’t really see a point, you know?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I get why you’re mad, Claire. Trust me, I do, but he’s back now.”

“And I’m just supposed to forgive him? Did you just forgive him?”

Dean shrugged, looking back down at her sad baby blues. Hoping she would understand and that she won’t tease him about it later on. “I didn’t want to waste any time being mad at him. I love him too much.”

“Gross.” She pushed him away this time, tucking her hair behind her ear before smiling at him. It reminded him of Jack’s little shy smile. “But I-I think you’re right. Maybe I’m done wasting time.”

They drove back with the music luckily a little lower but Dean just watched Claire drive with a growing smile on his face. He’s gonna have to admit that Cas was right, two messed up people can really relate and help each other out.

When they walked into the house, Dean took Jody from marching over to Claire to lecture her. “Just wait,” he whispered to her, and luckily she listened to him. They both held their breath as Claire walked over to Cas—who looked like he had been sitting in that seat freaking out since they left—and asked if they could try talking outside again. He blinked up at her a few times before nodding, following her to the backyard again.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief when the glass door closed behind them.

“Dean.” He looked up towards his kid, who reached for him from Kaia’s arms on the couch. Dean quickly walked over to pick him up, pressing a kiss to his head while trying not to let guilt eat at him. “Is Dad okay?”

“Don’t worry, bud.” Dean watched Jack’s eyes that showed how much he has experienced, how much he understood. “He’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

On the drive back, Cas had a smile plastered across his face. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about what happened, considering Cas walked in, ready to introduce Jack to Claire. Then Cas spent the rest of the night watching his kids getting along, looking the happiest Dean had seen him in a really long time.

“So, what did you and Claire talk about?”

Cas hummed before looking up at Dean as if just remembering that he was there. “Oh. Um, she just made me promise her something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Same thing I promised you. Don’t get dead anymore.”

“Oh. Good. Keep that promise.”

“I’ll do my best.” Cas looked back at Jack before he leaned over and pressed a kiss on Dean’s cheek. “I have a lot to live for now. A family.”

A family. Yeah.

Dean took a peek at Jack with the mirror and then watched as Cas changed his phone background pic to one of Claire spinning Jack around in the living room.

They were a real family.