#hearing his cries through the end credits always give me chills

[pinkysgs]

the only thing to do whilst being stuck in a hotel room due to the hurricane is watch saw in the pitch black at 2am

[peculiarpatches]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙭 𝙁!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮

       This is my first time writing  a Dom&Sub GXG so please be nice to me. This involves smut. Dominate Harley, submissive reader. Slapping, spanking, dirty talk, oral, fingering. I just watched Birds of Prey and thought of this halfway through, so, lmao. I hope yall like it. And remember, feedback is appreciated so please give a ‘like’ and or reblog. It’d mean the world to me. Also, if you have any suggestions, just message me and I might write them! :) lots of love. xx

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Harley was trying, damn it. Give her some credit, cut her some slack.  Try as she may, the anger and jealousy only continued to bubble up, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it kept rising in the back of her throat, eager to come out and explode everywhere. That and it might be a bit of bile, too.... as gross as that may be, more than likely, yeah, it was a mixture of both. 

Harley had been drinking a lot of liquor as if the clear substance poured in the small glass shots were water rather than vodka. 

 Harley bit on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood on the tip of her tongue. So, she continues. 

 Continues to drink until she feels every other emotion besides the bitterness feeling she was getting as she watched her best friend, (Y/N) on the dance floor.  (Y/N) and Harley were like two peas in a pod, inseparable those gals were. You'd never see Harley without (Y/N) by her side, the same way with (Y/N). They were attached  to each other like glue. 

Expect of course, right now, they were not. Harley sat, sulking, at one of the back booths of the club, eight empty glasses pushed aside, her hands holding up her face as she pouts and huffs to nobody other than herself.   

"I came here to have fun with her, not her to have fun without me," Harley whined, the pout on her face only growing bigger. Groaning, she facepalms  and shook her head from side to side, feeling frustrated tears starting to build in the corner of her eyes but she blinks them away before they could reveal themselves.  

 Her head snaps forward, so fast she swears she gets whiplash, when she hears (Y/N)'s laughter fill the air. Her laugh always caused goose bumps to bite at her skin and a chill to run up and down her back. Harley shivered as if she were cold but that was far from reality.

 In reality, Harley suddenly felt hot.  It felt as if she was on fire. 

Then she realizes, there's no use in trying to stop these feelings or try to push them away. They were bound to come out sooner or later.  (Y/N) was hers. Nobody else's.  End of story. The two have hooked up before, all of which the two were either really drunk and or had one too many pot brownies, but they have gotten together before.  

And as of right now, Harley was going to show (Y/N) just how better off she is with Harley by her side rather than some six feet muscular guy that (Y/N) was currently grinding up against. Harley growls as she stands up, trying her best not to fall as she exits out of the booth and pushes people out of the way before finding (Y/N).  "C'mon. We're leaving. Now." Harley barked, painted fingernails curling around (Y/N)'s wrist. "Well, hey there, good lookin', might I ask what you're doing, stealing away this beaut from me? If you're jealous, don't fret, love. There's more of me to go around. Sharing is caring, ain't that right, babydoll?" Harley's blood boils at the pet name he gives to (Y/N) and before she realizes it, her fist comes in contact with his face and her leg rises up as she kicks him in the groin.  "I said we're leaving." She spits.    

Taking (Y/N)'s hand, Harley drags her through the whispering crowd, half of the people laughing at how a man that tall and muscular so easily dropped to the floor with one swift movement, both from the hand and leg; others taking their phones out and snapping pictures of the scene.  Harley didn't care if people gave her glares as she walked past. Harley could care less.  She drags (Y/N) towards the back exit door, kicking it down as she then marches down to her apartment complex which wasn't even a foot away from the club. She's practically dragging (Y/N) behind her like a rag doll but she didn't care. All she cared about was showing (Y/N) who she belonged to. Once the door was open, Harley twirls around and bends forward, picking the girl up before walking inside  the small space that she called 'home'. It wasn't much but she loved it, regardless. Harley drops (Y/N) on the couch before crawling up and over her body, pinning her arms above her head.  During this whole 'meltdown' (if that's what you want to call it) (Y/N) remained quiet. As quiet as a church mouse. She didn't dare utter a single word, didn't dare say anything. She was either too drunk or too scared to speak.  "Babygirl," Harley's voice isn't soft and sweet, but sinister and cold. (Y/N)'s breath hitches and she shudders as Harley holds her face with the palm of her hand before backing her with it, earning a small gasp to spill out from (Y/N)'s lips.  

"You are in trouble, do you understand? You and your slutty fuckin' self. Who do you think you are, grinding against another man as if you want a cock when you already have a plastic one at home? Besides, is my tongue and fingers not cutting it out for you anymore, sweetheart?" Harley's  words were laced with malice and held as much venom as an Inland Taipan. 

"Don't you know who you belong to? You're mine. Always was, always will be. It's about time you realize that." Her voice is loud, booming, really, it causes (Y/N)'s ears to ring from how loud her best friend was being but all of it - the anger, the bottled up jealousy and affection exploding out of her - sent a shiver down her spine. It was also making her soaked, dripping with wetness. 

 "F-Fuck..." it's the first thing she's said all day and a bit of Harley is thankful the girl still knows how to speak, that she didn't totally scare her off with showing her dominate side.  "I'm really sorry, Harl-" "No." Harley cuts her off, pressing her fingertips to (Y/N)'s lips, smearing lipstick all over her fingers as she does so.  "You know what to call me." Harley stood up, crawling off of her best friend as she points to the couch. "Lay on your stomach, ass hanging in the air. You're getting a spanking." (Y/N) feels  warm and tingly all over and she's sure it's a combination of both being so turned on and drunk.  Either way, like a good girl, she follows orders. "Mistress..." Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper.  "I really am sorry." Her voice shook, as well as her body; every part of her was trembling and shaking. It wasn't out of fear, fuck no - she shook with nothing but excitement.    Harley shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she watches how horny - how desperate - (Y/N) was.  "Look at you, sprawled all out, legs separated, all for me to taste and to enjoy." Harley runs her hand over (Y/N)'s skirt, lifting the fabric up and touches the outside of her panties, loving the way the lace feels underneath the tips of her fingers. She was always a sucker for lace.  

Harley pulls her panties down, slowly peeling it off of her thighs and down to her ankles. Licking her lips, Harley smiles a seductive grin, her own wetness pooling inbetween her thighs.  (Y/N) was beautiful, without a doubt. 

More and more, each second of each passing day, Harley found herself falling more and more in love with the girl.  She loved everything about the girl. She could list off everything, tell all of it to (Y/N) but that'd take way too long and she felt as if time was running out and all Harley - really - wanted to do was taste (Y/N) on her tongue, in her mouth.  

Harley guides her fingers across (Y/N)'s ass, ghostly brushing along the skin before picking her hand up and slamming it down, earning a loud whimper and yelp to come from (Y/N)'s lips. "Fuck.... more, please, mistress, give me more. I've been so bad, such a naughty little thing, I deserve it. Please."    Harley grinned wickedly, giggling softly as she raises her hand again and lifts it back down. One slap followed another which followed another.  (Y/N) was begging for it and Harley fucking loved every single second of it.   "I know you deserve it because you're a slut, aren't you, princess? You're a filthy, dirty whore." Harley slams her hand onto (Y/N)'s ass again, rougher than the previous ones. 

 (Y/N) whimpers and pushes back up against Harley's hand, nodding eagerly. "Y-yes.... need to be punished. Please, punish me."  (Y/N) sobs, broken little cries falling from her mouth.  "That's just what you want, isn't it, baby?" Harley cooed, taking her hand off of (Y/N)'s bottom before reaching down and gazing her thumb over (Y/N)'s cute little clit.  

 "You want to be punished, don't you? Because you like it, right? Love it when I fuck you with a fake, plastic cock. Love the feeling of my fingers being buried deep inside your cunt. You love all of it - punishment or no punishment - because you're a fucking slut."  (Y/N)'s whines are - somehow - even louder than before and she's nodding rapidly, Harley giggles at the sight because her movements remind her of a bobblehead.  "Please," (Y/N) begged.  "Please, fuck me. Give it to me, nice and rough, just the way I like it. Show me who I belong to, Harley.... mistress, I meant... Mistress, please... I want it. I need it. I want your fingers, your tongue, anything, please." Harley knows by the sound of her voice, (Y/N) has tears in her eyes and she's willing to be fucked just by anything at this point.  "Filthy thing, you are." Harley murmurs, licking her lips before sinking to the floor. "Turn over, baby. Let's see how soaked you are."  Doing as she's told, (Y/N) rolls over and sits up, back against the cushions of the couch as she displays her pussy for Harley.  "Want Mistress to fuck you, huh? Fuck your tight little core until you're sore in the morning and can't walk without a limp? Want me to mark you up so everybody knows you're mine?"  All (Y/N) does is nod, far too flustered for words. "Say it. I want to hear you say it." Harley growled as her fingers shove their way inside (Y/N)'s eager and dripping wet cunt.  Moaning, (Y/N) nods as she throws her head back. "Mark me, Har. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like you hate me, please."   Harley smiles widely as she adds another finger, happily going to do exactly that.     "You're so tight, baby girl.... fucking dripping on my fingers." Harley cooed as she scissors her fingers back and forth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning.  Before (Y/N) has any time to reply, or even say anything at all,  Harley's mouth is at her heat and (Y/N) groans at the sudden and unexpected gesture.  Harley hums, sending vibrations all over (Y/N)'s body. This causes her hips to jerk upward, moan after moan slipping out of her mouth. 

Harley swirls her tongue back and forth, inside and out, making sure her pussy wasn't going to go untouched. Every part of her womanhood,  she licked and sucked on.  Harley gazed up and a blush washes over her cheeks as she notices (Y/N) had already been looking down at her. 

 She was sparkling, loving the triumph at the mess she was making out of her dear and lovely best friend.  (Y/N) could feel that white and hot tension building in the pit of her stomach. Her entire body was broken out with goose bumps and she was shaking, trembling like a leaf. 

Her moans grew louder in volume, more high pitched, her nails dug into the cushion of the couch and as she closes her eyes, she's quick to reopen them due to the fact Harley had stopped what she was doing.  "Hey, I was enjoying myself-" "This is a punishment, remember, doll? Now, be a good girl and eat my pussy out. You were born to be my good pussy eater, weren't you? So, get to work. Get to pleasing me; your Mistress."  (Y/N) grunts, loving the foul language she spoke as she gets off the couch and falls to her knees, quick to put her mouth to good use.  Above her, Harley hummed in delight, slowly rocking her hips back and forth against (Y/N)'s warm and wet mouth. "There ya go... there's my good girl." Harley purred, lids fluttering close as she enjoys the way (Y/N)'s tongue feels against her clit.  

 Harley hadn't known how worked up she was until a few seconds pass and just as quickly as they started, she's spilling all her fluids and juices onto (Y/N)'s face, coating her skin with her cum.  "Fuck... 'm sorry about that, princess...... You just had me so worked up. Really, I've been thinkin about you all day. And I saw you with that guy and I just.... I got a little jealous, y'know?"  "No reason to be," (Y/N) replied, licking off the remains of Harley's orgasm off of her lips. "I was just havin' some fun. Besides, like you said, I'm yours. Always will be, always have been. Now, enough of this mushy chick flick moment, are you going to pound me and wreck me or not?"  Harley laughs and nods, taking (Y/N) up off of her feet and kisses her, not minding the taste of herself on her best friend - well, girlfriend's - lips.   "Let's go then, shall we?"  (Y/N) giggles loudly as Harley, as she had done before, lifts her up and carries her off to the bedroom.   "We're together now though, right?" "Yes, of course, dumbass."  "Just needed that confirmed."  "Of course, baby, I love you. I’m sorry I had such a hard time admitting that until today... Now, open that mouth up and let me choke you with this fake cock before I dick you down with it."

[louis-in-red]

Top ten AFHF moments, Steph go!!!! ❤️

Hi Sea! As the rest of the Louies, I’m still processing the whole thing. I woke up feeling so proud of this person I may never meet, but somehow feels like a friend from my childhood who I am watching grow up into this amazing performer and singer.

Here are my top ten moments (to be honest the whole thing is my favourite thing in the world right now)

1. His voice at the beginning: hearing his talking voice after so long, was so important. This year was hard, almost zero content, no interviews… so just hearing him speak (…I understood how important people are) was healing. I could honestly spend hours listening him talk 🖤

2. Him interacting with the crowd with the Spanish fans at the Madrid show 🔥 he looked so in his element and so proud (I felt like a fucking God). Kudos to the fan who said Louis is the puto amo 💙

Credits to louisgalaxy for the gif

3. His little dance with Charlie when he arrives to film the Live From London Livestream 😭 I really like his relationship with Charlie and how Louis is always so silly with him. Plus, we get so see how Charlie is directing the whole thing which is HOT! Louis talking about how cool the livestreams are and a great opportunity for fans to see him for the first time… such a good soul that man 😔

Credits to Sanju for the gif 💙

4. His little feet when he is jamming with his guitar 🥲 also him talking about the lack of inspiration and how difficult this time has been not just for him but for everyone else… it felt so human

5. His excitement when speaking on the phone to Matt (I’m guessing it’s him) about the free concert. He said he wanted to be the first to doing one and being ahead of everyone else… 😫 plus he was so flirty, playing with his hair… 😮‍💨. I’m adding here as a fave bonus part, Louis being so involved in the whole process, choosing the venue, checking how the stage was going to be, also him being concern of respecting the distance with fans due to restrictions (the way he says Corona… 😳🤤)

Credits to Sanju for the gif 💙

6. His relationship with Helene, from seeing how they rehearsed together, to knowing they have been working this whole last year through video calls (when the media and “his close friend from the band” said he was just drinking beer and probably chilling)… to know he was working during all this time into improving his voice because he is a perfectionist… I LOVE HIMMSO MUCH!! ALSO! Louis just LISTENS, doesn’t he? Like you can see how he listens to Helene. She could probably give harsh feedback sometimes and he would take it in the most positive way, because he knows Helene only just wants the best for him and her feedback will only be constructive. Her being a huge important part of his life, not just as vocal coach but as part of his support system makes me so emotional 😩 Louis my god! I’m watching again those clips and I’m crying again 😭 (PS: who is John??? wtf 😩 that name has been mentioned way too many times now and I’m clowning)

7. His confidence through the whole show but specially in We Made It??? Like he went out there to WIN!! He gave his all from the beginning to the end. I have to say I’m wasn’t a fan of 7 (😳) because I didn’t really listened to a cleaned version (only the ones from Madrid)… but NOW??? I’m a FAN! The band was so SICK and so INTO IT! It was hot to watch! They really killed it and it was one of my favourite moments from the concert 🤤 kudos to Charlie for capturing Louis’ beautiful eyes during DLIBYH.

8. The fans and how they reacted to everything Louis did or say! Him saying it’s fucking unbelievable and that it’s only posible for the fans 😪😪😪 what the fuck I was worried about? 🥲 and the fans during CHANGE… I don’t think they were expecting that quality of a song and you could tell in their faces that he exceeded their expectations (kudos once again to Charlie for beautifully capture the relationship between Louis and the fans). It was cute that Louis said the song it’s name CHANGE and not CHANGES 🙂

Credits to setsfiretohistory for the gif

9. The band!!!! My GOD THEY ROCKED!!! They were so into it, they jammed through the whole thing and you could tell they really enjoyed it and that they love playing for Louis!! Steve was so 🔥🔥🔥 the drums were on FIRE!!! Michale and Isaac being a cute guitar duo during OTB and Matt being beautiful and cute during 7 just jamming and rocking 😫 Zak on the keyboards doing his little head movements 🥰 I don’t know what else to say I just love them and I love that Louis has them as a band. Kudos to the string ladies who sounded amazing and were so cool (drinking the encore shots)!!! I hope they go to tour with Louis 🥺

Credits to Sanju for the gif 💙

10. The after show moments: From the group hug (that shot did some magic as well), to his family and his best friends being there, from Helene being the most proud (crying because Louis sounded amazing) to Louis talking about how he can get lost in his head sometimes but it was different during the festival and that he trusted Helene saying he smashed it… I think he truly felt it! He knew he gave his all and since it’s been a year and a half since he had that feeling… maybe he was afraid he wasn’t going to be that good but now he knows he was the best he has ever been and he feels more confidente than ever. I can’t wait for next year when will get the tour (please let him tour 😭) and probably (hopefully) we’ll get more bts footage since Charlie will be there with him for some dates (I hope).

Credits to Manu for this gif 💙

Well… this was an emotional rollercoaster. I laughed, I cried, I was horny, I was sad, I was happy, I was proud… It was everything 😌😮‍💨 I’ll watch it again later 💙

[valeskakingdom]

Request

Could I request a part 3? Jerome keeps the reader as his hostage for popularity and attention. Reader is really fond of the attention she gets as well and eventually sleeps with Jerome again? In the end she sees how Galavan kills him and is really sad?

Here's part 4!!

Had to split it in two again...I'm sorry. Post the other half right after this one here!!

Gif credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs

Jerome x female reader (part 4)

Warnings: smut

Word count: 1877

*Days later*

Living with Jerome wasn't as bad as you actually thought. Yes, his possessiveness and always playing the boss annoyed you a lot but you've learned to ignore it.

You literally zoned everything out that made you feel uncomfortable or that annoyed you. And it worked. You were a lot calmer than before, you didn't start panicking immediately when Greenwood or Dobkins were staring at you. You stayed calm because sooner or later they would end up arguing with Jerome if he got aware of it because he hated people staring at you.

You even found 2 new friends: Tabitha and Barbara.

They both were kind to you and helped you how to defend yourself against all these strange lunatics. They treated you how to use a gun, how to fight with or without weapons. You weren't a pro but you got it fast.

It was just a little ordinary for you that they both kept fucking behind Theo's back but it didn't matter to you. You did that with Jerome as well, well, it was more or less behind Theo's back. You both weren't really quiet and you both did it pretty often...and the bites and marks on your neck were pretty obvious because your neck was full of it.

Right now, you were relaxing in your bed watching the news:

"Breaking News

Since a few days (Y/n) (Y/ln) will be missed. Her friend (Y/bff/n) (Y/bff/ln) told that she was about to visit them after watching the cruel claim the Maniax' shot caller Jerome Valeska was giving us. Her friend said she tried to call (Y/n) several times but she didn't pick up the phone. Her friend's afraid that either the Maniax have kidnapped or killed her.

If you see her or have an idea where (Y/n) (Y/ln) could be then please report to the GCPD. Every information can be useful!"

You turned the TV off.

You smirked for yourself. Yes, it sucked that you couldn't be with your friends not could you go out - but you loved this big amount of attention. You were the person peope were looking for. Everyone's eyes were on you as if you were a famous person.

Suddenly your door opened - Barbara.

"Hey darling- ugh, is Jerome still in the bathroom?" She sighed frowning "He should hurry up. Time is running!"

"Calm down Babs," you giggled a little "Wanna watch the news with me? I'm in the TV! My friend is missing me."

"Yeah, I've seen that already." She gave you a short smile "We just need to be careful now. Don't want cops chasing my ass."

"Understandable." You nodded "But...you know, somehow I like this attention. All eyes on me...I never really had that. I was just a simple girl, you could even call me a ghost because no one really noticed me...and now the whole city knows me because I just 'disappeared'. I feel famous and happy."

"Probably because you're famous, somewhat." Barbara gave you a grin flickering her tongue.

"May be, I just know I want more of it. I love being the head of missed people, and I love being the headline." you chuckled letting out a sigh in happiness.

"Wow, Jerome's really got a big effect on you, darling." Barbara scoffed.

"Why's that?"You frowned not understanding what she meant.

"Sweetie, days ago you've been the most anxious and shy girl amongst us. You were frightened by everything that was just moving...and look at you now. You're a smart, calm, sassy ass that reaches for fame - as he does." You both chuckled.

"I could tell you the same with Tabitha. She has to be a master in bed for calming you down after a stressed day. I mean, on the one you're bitching around and after Tabitha 'talks to you in private' at night, you're a sunshine in the next morning." I laughed loudly making Barbara blush.

"Says you! I think I don't need to remind you that the whole city can hear you." Barbara mocked with a laughter.

"At least just the city is hearing me." You laughed louder "I'm sorry, I had to."

"Hey ladies,"Jerome came out of the bathroom before Barbara could respond. He was   just wearing a claret gown, his hair was still wet from the shower "I see, we're in a good mood, doll, aren't we?"

"As always," you grinned "Just had a very nice conversation with Barbara."

"Yeah," Barbara grinned, it faded though as she faced Jerome "Now hurry up, ginger. We don't wanna be late." She left quick.

"She's a feisty one, I like that," Jerome just let out a sigh with a short grin closing the door "But I hate being bossed around. I am the boss!"

He made  his way to you slowly. Then he grabbed your hands pulling you fast out of the bed that you stood close to him. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck while wrapped his around your waist.

You knew this rough undertone on him. He tried to be kind in front of you but actually he was pissed of being commanded - especially by a woman.

"I know and she does, too. She doesn't mean to be a bitch," You assured him with giving him a smile "She's just stressed. Probably needs a quick fuck or something to calm down."

"Hm," Jerome just hummed and shrugged, not really paying attention to what you were saying. Instead he grabbed your ass harshly pulling you close to him. You could feel his bulge growing against your leg "Talking about a quick fuck..."

Before you could even answer, Jerome pressed his lips against yours. His hands grabbed your cheeks and pressed your face even more against his to intense the kiss. His light chuckle in the kiss only made let you blush after you let out a little moan. He pressed his body against yours to close the gap between you two. Your lips parted this time to let his tongue explore your mouth and you couldn't help but moan as he slipped his tongue into your mouth fighting for dominance. You r hands wandered up tangling hour fingers into his hair, gripping and pulling his head further down, deepening the kiss.

He pressed you against the wall and slid a knee in the space separating your thighs to position his body between your legs. His hands gripped your ass lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He lowered his head down to leave a bunch of wet kisses on your neck, you pulled him in closer with your hands and bit your lip in arousal. He licked and bit at the soft skin of your neck, leaving his mark there making you gasp. His lips found yours again and once more.

Your shirt was ripped apart from your body by his eagerness to fuck you and he could feel a strip of your bare skin against his. You arched up into him more and suddenly your hands left his head so that you could the knot of his gown. You shove the gown down from his body, now he stood naked in front of you; his errection was strongly pressed against your crotch.

He unclasped your bra hastily and without pulling away from your mouth he tossed it across the room. With your bare breasts against his chest, you felt a rush of heat slowly spread throughout your body.

You tightened your legs around his waist and pressed him even more against your body. You became horny from the wild make out session; you wanted him right here, right now.

His hand reached down and shoved the button of your pants through its hole impatiently. Eagerness was written in his face. He couldn't wait anymore to finally inset his hard member into you, feel the warm and wet walls on his skin, making you moan and scream his name until you cum.

He slid his hands down to your panties, ripping it off from your legs and throwing it behind him. He moaned quietly when he felt just how hot and wet you were for him. You didn't want to wait any longer and neither did he, it was becoming unbearable. You both wanted, even needed pleasure to be satisfied.

Instantly and without any kind of hesitation, he shove his member into your wet entrance. You let out a gasp followed by a moan, your body stretching to accommodate him.

He slowly pulled out before thrusting back in with a sharp snap of his hips.

Your whole body felt weak with every thrust he did into you as every time you had sex with him. You were completely understand his control, he could do everything with you. Your body shivered slightly through this pleasure he was giving you. Every thrust hurt more, each of your moans became louder, Jerome became faster. Your head was dug into the crook of his neck, your nails were dug into his shoulders leaving marks while you tried to adjust just fast pace and the pleasure.

"Oh God, Jerome!" You cried out loud while scratching his whole back down.

You felt his nails were dug deeper in your ass and his grunts made you shiver in pleasure with every thrust. And again he drilled his long hard member into you making sure he hit your g spot every time he entered your cunt.

He loved hearing you moan, you say he was addicted to it. You moans were giving him chills, aroused him. He couldn't get enough of it. If he could he would fuck you non stop, just to hear all these sweet moans of yours.

You moaned louder as he speeded up. You were hot and tight around him, you heard him swearing with a moan as he felt your walls clenchinh more on his member.

He groaned your name out quietly and you responded by rocking your hips up to give him all the pleasure he needed now.

You bit your lower lip nervously as a knot was built in your abdomen - you knew you were close. You moaned uncontrollably caused by all the pleasure which didn't even give you the chance to hold anything back - you really couldn't as hard as you tried to. You couldn't handle it all. It was too much for your body. You legs started to shake with each of Jerome's thrusts.

Gripping onto his back tighter, you buried your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your cry as you came all over him without any warning. He gasped lowly as you covered him in your tight and warm wetness. Your legs were twitching and your chest heaving. He thrust his hips several more times until he couldn't hold back any more, releasing into you. A soft moan escaped your lips upon the contact, you held him close and kept your head underneath his neck, breathing heavily with him.

"Didn't know you needed it that much right now." You said under gasps still trying to calm down from your high.

"Dont think I'm done with you, doll," Jerome grinned "I just wanted to let you breathe"

[yoditorian]

lacuna - part 9

din/reader

well shit guys,,,,this is the last one.

this has been a labour of love and i just want to say a huge huge thank you to everyone who’s commented and reblogged and sent me asks and even just lurked and read it. seriously, from the absolute bottom of my heart, thank you. i’d also love to extend a special thank you to @keeper0fthestars and @chatterbean for consistently cheering me on throughout this fic. and an extra extra special thank you to @bee-dameron for being the most incredible sounding board, and without whom this fic literally would not exist. this was really my first jump back into writing fic properly and i couldn’t be more grateful for the love its received. it might be the end for the main storyline, but it’s definitely not the end of this universe 💛

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 4.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, rebel is healing, din is having the worst time of his life (all of season 2), swears, yes i am referencing That Monologue

He can’t stop hearing it. 

How you pleaded with him, how you begged him to stay, how you cried when he left. Din’s sure it’s a sound that’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.

Din has been staring out at the swirling lights of hyperspace for hours when the kid clambers up into his lap, his stomach lurches when he notices three little green fingers curled around a corner of your old blanket. The kid leans over to frown at the second passenger seat. Empty.

“I know, buddy. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” His voice is wrecked, the sound of it so harsh through the modulator that even he flinches. 

Din’s still not completely sure that the child understands him, but his little ears droop down at the apology and he wraps himself up as best he can in your blanket. Five minutes and you’ve charmed the little thing. Din isn’t sure why he’s surprised, you did the same to him all those years ago. 

The kid settles back down to sleep in his lap, curled up in the thinning fabric, and one of Din’s gloves hits the floor before he even realises that he’s slipped it off. The wool is a little stiff with age under his fingers, but it’s been well loved. And been well loved on if his memory serves. He wonders if it smelt of him afterwards. If you spent nights curled up in it, trying to inhale the last memento you had of him before he saw you again, the same way he spent so many nights wallowing in his own memories. He used to wish he had something physical with him to keep close, the cruel irony of your forgotten blanket doesn’t go unnoticed now. 

Part of him wants to bring it back. A peace offering, maybe. He wants to let you get to know the kid better, to help him on his quest to find his home. Or maybe just to stay, like you asked. But he fucked it all up. You’d probably slam the door of your little home in his face now. Honestly? He’s pretty sure it’s the least he deserves. He wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled a blaster on him with all the ways he’s hurt you. 

It feels like grief. The way the sorrow settles on your chest, curling it’s cold hands around your lungs and squeezing. You hope it chokes you, if only so you don’t have to feel like this anymore. You curl up on the kitchen floor, the cold tile freezing through your clothes, and wonder if this is it.

Kes finds you there, hours after the door was slammed and the sun has set. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” You can’t help but ask, you can’t help but wonder. Because even through the pain and the silence and the arguments, you still love Din. Maybe you always will. But you’re not sure it matters anymore. Kes looks at you, confused, and you press on.

“I mean, I laid out how I feel so many times and all he ever did was push it away but- but I know that if he walked in that door right now I’d let him back in.” 

“I think that’s love, kiddo.” He sinks down to join you on the floor, and if the chill of the tile raises goosebumps on his arms, he doesn’t mention it. 

“Love is stupid,” You pause when he shoots you a look, “No offence to you and your ridiculously happy marriage, but this sucks.”

You sound like a child, you know that. Just like you know that things with Din were always going to end the way they have. You’ve always known you came second to his creed, so much so that you can’t even bring yourself to be angry about it anymore. The alternative is to cry until you lose your voice, so childish seems like the way to go.

“What?” You huff. Kes is watching you carefully, in that pensive way that he does when he’s about to call your bluff in sabacc and take the game. Like he always does. 

“I’m not sure you really think that.”

He’s right on the money yet again, the fucking asshole. 

A fresh wave of tears stings your eyes. thankful at least that Kes has found a spot on the floor to look at instead of turning those big sad eyes onto you. You’re not sure you could take it. It’s frustration at yourself, mostly, instead of just the heartbreak of being left behind so willingly. So angrily. What is it about you that made the idea of sticking around so repulsive, so disgusting, that he left without a second thought. You thought he loved you, you really did. But you’ve been wrong about things before. However much you hate it. 

“I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

“I know.” Kes’s eyes lift from the floor finally, settling uncertainly on yours. 

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I- I want to be close to you guys but,” You flounder for a moment, desperate to think up a reason, “I just can’t be here.”

He understands, you know he does. You’ve all lost enough people, physically and emotionally, to know when a place is no longer welcoming. And you do, genuinely, love the little house on the edge of their land. You love the way the sun hits through the kitchen window in the late afternoon, you love the way you can hear the birds in the trees when you wake in the morning, you love the way any of them can drop by anytime they want to. But it’ll always be the site of the last time you loved Din, the last time he kissed you. Ground zero of your relationship. If you could even call it that. 

“I’ll be alright. I’ve been without him before.”

You have, you’ve been without Din. You’ve spent years without hearing the comm you gave him so much as click. You’ll be alright. In time. 

Only, there were never arguments before. All those times you left, or he left, he’d never shouted at you the way he did. You’d never felt the rage he keeps so carefully locked away, not with you in the crosshairs anyway. It sends your stomach churning, remembering the way he denied you so easily. 

You eye the pouch of credits on the table, just visible over the top of Kes’s head. Why would he leave something like that behind? The Crest is falling apart, he’s got the kid to think about now, why would he forsake a payday for someone he’d so readily abandon.

The dam breaks, and your brave face along with it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Kes shuffles over to sit closer, to draw you into his arms and let you cry it out on his shoulder. So, in turn, you let yourself feel it. Properly. Sobbing until you’re half asleep, breath hitching every now and again, and the sun starts to rise. 

You don’t know why Din left the credits there, and it feels odd to think about using them when he’s the reason this house isn’t a home anymore. But he could never give you much, and despite everything you know he’s never been a heartless man intentionally, maybe this is his way of making up for that. A clean slate.

The first thing he thinks of as Din comes to, only seconds after the e-web cannon explodes in his face, is you. Of course it is. 

You with your feet up beside you on the passenger seat and the child in your arms, wrapped up and snoring softly. No idea of what was coming. It’s that image that stays at the forefront of his mind, even through the pain of being dragged across the ground into the almost safety of the destroyed cantina.

That’s the view he wants, regardless of however futile it is to realise that now. Regardless of the fact that he’s dying and you’re not here. You don’t even know. Maybe you wouldn’t care if you did. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

But he gave it up for what? For this? Denied himself and the kid safety and a life just for both of them to die on the grotty floor of the cantina on Nevarro. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he always has been, for refusing you at every turn, refusing to let himself give in and reassess and have the life he’s so desperately wanted with you for years now. Who is he, without his creed? 

Yours. He knows that now.

There’s something profoundly wrong about you not being there as the blood trickles down the back of his neck and soaks into his clothes. As he hands off the child to the people he’s come to think of as his friends and trusts them to do the one thing he can’t.

“Take him to Yavin,” He tells them, desperately, “Find the little house at the end of the farm track.” 

You’ll take care of the kid, despite everything. You’ll take him in without a question, in a heartbeat. The same way you so effortlessly ingrained Din into your life when you first met. Even if it was accidental on both sides.

Din can’t stop himself, as the IG unit lifts his helmet, from remembering the way you did the same. This feels so clinical, mechanical. There’s nothing of the warmth and reverence that had been in your touch. Even this close to death, it’s like his bones themselves are calling your name.

“What do you think?” Your voice echoes in the empty space. The smell of fresh sawdust is strong in your nose, but you don’t mind. It’s oddly comforting, as though the shop was built just for you. The sound of little footsteps pound over the upper floor and a messy mop of curls appears over the top of the railing.

“I love it. Can I live here too?” Poe grins cheekily.

“Your parents might have something to say about that, buddy.” 

He thunders down the stairs beside the little back office and comes to a skidding halt in front of you, kicking up a little dust in his wake. You catch him easily, whirling him around in a circle as he laughs. The way the sound fills the space starts to stitch the edges of your heart back together. Maybe this is what you need to do, fill a new space with light and laughter and the people you love. Somewhere to exist, somewhere to grow. The workshop seems like a good place to start.

A child of The Watch.

What does that even mean?

His covert, his family, it’s- it’s not a cult. It can’t be. The way she talked about it, like even the thought left a bad taste in her mouth, sends a shot of anger down his spine. He is not a religious zealot. But, would he know if he is?

Is he?

Din’s never had cause to doubt his creed, or his covert. They saved him, rescued and raised him. They taught him to fight and to protect and to provide for the covert. Foundlings are the future, right? Would he be less, maybe, to those born on Mandalore? To people like Bo-Katan who wear the armour from generations past, who fought to defend their homeland and their clans. Din doesn’t wear ancestral armour, but has he not defended his family with his life? Ancient way or not, it seems like the kind of thing that would be important in any kind of Mandalorian culture. Traditionalist or otherwise. 

No one has seen his face since he was a child. And yet, he still took off his helmet, every time, for you and believed he was breaking his creed. Sure, you never saw his face, but does that matter? Is it not the principal of the thing? Then there’s the glaring evidence that there are Mandalorians who can remove their helmets. What does that make him, if he’s neither followed the letter of the creed or whatever rules Bo-Katan has. 

With the kid safely tucked away and snoring in his little hammock, Din pulls the helmet off and glares at his distorted reflection in the curve of the visor. He can feel your hands on him like you’re there, smoothing over his shoulders and curling around his waist. And as all the tension melts from his body, he knows what you’d say. That he is himself. Din Djarin, and it’s up to him what he wants that to mean. Whether it includes Mandalorian or not. Whatever he wants to be is what he is and you’d never love him less for it.

Love him.

He scoffs at himself. There’s no way you feel like that about him now.

“Can you reach right up in that corner?” 

You’d let Poe pick the colour for the walls of the main attic space, and so he and his dad are flecked in bright orange paint as they swirl brushes over the wood they’d primed yesterday.

Kes has him on his shoulders, fully in charge of the high up sections as he’d so politely asked, while you and Shara are screwing together the fittings for the kitchen units. A pastel blue this time, also chosen by Poe. Although Shara had kindly guided him away from the neon purple cupboard doors that had caught his eye with a quick wink at you. Maybe giving a small child free reign over your interior decorating was a bad idea. But he’d proven to have quite an eye on some things. 

The four of you had travelled all the way to an inner rim market to find your furniture, deciding on a deep red fabric couch that fit all of you comfortably and takes a considerable amount of effort to rise from. It’s been pushed back against the half wall that hides the attic living space from the workshop floor. Your bedroom furniture is brand new as well, all light polished wood and soft bedding. The credits Din had abandoned had gone a long way, almost long enough that you can forget where they came from. Sometimes. 

It hits you again, cross legged on the floor as Shara hands you another piece to slot into place, that there should be an extra pair of hands. Pulling more pieces out of crates or rearranging the layout in the bedroom or hanging lampshades. It’s nice to be making this new house into a home with your family, but there’s still a gaping hole where there should be someone else. 

A warm hand settles on your knee, breaking your focus from where it’s settled at the top of the staircase. Shara. You turn to her with a smile, and blink back a wave of tears when she returns it. You have your family, right here, you don’t need him. You don’t need him.

“Get down!” Shara calls, just as a shadow looms over you.

Poe’s feet swing over your heads and he laughs when Shara just misses grabbing his ankle, Kes lifting him deftly out of the way at the last second. This is what your life is supposed to be, definitely. The sound of everybody else’s laughter lifts the weight off of your shoulders just enough for you to breathe, to laugh along with them. For a little while.

Din loses everything in a matter of moments. Everything.

Methodically searching through the ashes of the Razor Crest, of the only home he had left, is the final barrier between him and the guilt about the child. About Grogu. The kid’s become his, undeniably, and he couldn’t do the one thing a father is supposed to do. Gideon has him at his mercy, has Din at his mercy now. Whatever the Moff and Dr Pershing have in store, it’s not good. The kid might not even survive. 

All he can see is his little face, his little arms reaching out as the droid climbed higher and higher towards the cruiser. What kind of a father is he, to just let his son be taken from him? No man who would so willingly see the child in his care delivered to his doom deserves to be called such a thing.

Din kicks the dust at his feet in frustration, all too aware of the new eyes watching him. Grief is a difficult thing in and of itself, it’s even harder when it’s observed. He feels like an exhibit. Sure, the two of them stayed and defended the child without even being asked to, but that doesn’t mean he wants them sitting and watching as he sifts through the ruins of his life. 

Fitting, really, that the one way he always thought he would keep you in his life went up in flames, exploded in much the same way your relationship did. That was his fault too. 

But it’s all gone now. The Razor Crest, his home, Grogu’s bed, your old blanket. Grogu and you. Maybe for good, maybe this is his life now, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get either of you back. Maybe he’ll launch a rescue mission only to find his son dead and hitch a ride to Yavin only to be turned away at your door. Maybe that’s what he deserves. 

“Thanks!” You call as the couple stroll out of the main doors and into the sunshine, newly repaired pit droid trotting after them.

“Which one goes to this one again?” Poe catches your attention, waving the motor over his head. He’s sitting on the desk in the back office, little eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You’ve been teaching him small mechanic things here and there on his days with you. How to wire a basic console, how to program a droid, how a hyperdrive motivator works. You’d taken him out with you on a call once, so you could show him the different engine parts of a ship that his mother doesn’t treasure. Today, it’s hotwiring lessons.

Kes and Shara had pretended to disapprove when you asked them what they thought about it, and they still would if Poe was the one to bring it up. But the larger community on Yavin still sleeps far too lightly, still sleeps far too little. The kids are learning their history and their life skills, but alongside basic combat and strategy lessons. The older kids can enroll in weapons training and piloting lessons. The war will never fully leave this moon so long as it stands. 

“Which one do you think?” You ask, settling down into the chair with your datapad and a mountain of forms to fill out. Poe ponders for a moment, glancing between your expectant expression and the dead motor in his hands. 

“This one?” He touches the exposed wires together carefully, huffing when nothing happens. 

“No, wait! This one!” The little motor whirrs to life the moment the wires make contact, and subsequently dies again when he drops it to throw his arms up in celebration. You catch it before it can hit the floor and burst into pieces, your own smile wide enough to make your cheeks ache. 

You’re living. For the first time in years you’re living, without watching over your shoulder for the Empire, without wondering when you’ll see Din again. You’re spending time with your best friends’ kid and making a living as the town mechanic. You have regular customers and people who drop by just to say hi, and things don’t seem so bad anymore. Even though there’s a gap inside of you that aches and misses him, you’re starting to be at peace with it.

He doesn’t know why he was so stupid as to think the facial scan might work with the fucking helmet on. And now the terminal won’t stop beeping and he’s pretty sure people are looking over at him and there’s only one option left and- fuck it.

Din’s hands shake as he lifts the plastic helmet off, the habit of a usually much heavier one makes the movement almost too forceful, and he sets it down. 

This is wrong. It feels so wrong. The first time any living being has seen his face since he was a child and it’s a room full of Imperials. The organisation that took his parents from him, that massacred whole planets and drove his people underground, that you have spent your whole life fighting against. He feels sick.

It was supposed to be you. He’s thought about it a lot, since the first time you took him to that little house on Yavin. He envisioned standing in the bedroom, curtains thrown open to soak up the last of the afternoon sun, and you’d smile at him in that way you always did. He would pull you close to press his forehead against yours, he would take your hands and bring them up to close around the lip of his helmet. He’d tell you it was okay, and you’d lift it off together. You’d smile, maybe a stray tear would linger in the corner of your eye, and you’d finally get to see him. You’d trace your fingertips along his cheekbone and press a kiss on the little spot on his jaw where the hair doesn’t grow. You’d tell him you always thought he had brown eyes. He’d tell you you’re beautiful. And then he’d kiss you, and you’d let him. 

The terminal beeps again and Din pulls the drive from the port, just in time to turn and face an Imperial Officer. 

Your head is in an engine hatch when you hear one of the wide metal doors at the front of the shop creak open. 

“We just closed up, but you can swing by in the morning if it isn’t an emergency!” You call, and hope your voice carries to whoever is standing in your doorway. You don’t really have the time for a customer, this speeder repair is already a day late because you were watching Poe last night, but Yavin is a community. 

However long it took you to get used to after being back on the station, it’s almost like being a part of the rebellion again. Everybody works together to make things a little easier for everyone else. You hear a shuffle of footsteps, slowly edging closer to you, and you’re about to call out again when they say your name. 

When he says your name.

You hit your head on the hatch as you pull yourself out of it. 

“No.”

You can’t do this. You can’t. 

All the work you’ve done to piece your broken little heart back together starts to unravel, just seeing him standing in your workshop. Every staple and stitch and strip of tape loosens until there’s nothing left and that gap inside you, the one that sits right under your heart, starts to ache something fierce. 

How dare he.

How dare he think he can walk into the one place that you have, the one place in the whole galaxy that doesn’t stink of betrayal and heartache and him. How dare he think he can disturb the life you’ve begun to build without him, however much it hurt. There are nights where you don’t think of him now. Nights where you don’t wake in the middle of dreams of his touch and his voice and his kisses. And now he’s here and all of your work was for nothing. 

“Please-” 

“No. No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come back and undo everything. You can’t.” At least your voice is steadier than you feel, as you square your shoulders and plant your feet in a vain attempt to stay upright. Or to stop yourself running right back into his arms. 

“I know.”

No, that’s what breaks the final piece of your heart off. The heart that belongs to him anyway. It always has, even when you didn’t want it to. He sounds so broken.

“Did you leave the baby on the ship again?”

You don’t miss the way his shoulders tighten, just barely, or how his fingers twitch nervously. 

“The ship’s gone. So is- so is the kid,” Din takes a shuddering breath, “I lost everything.”

Everything? What does that even mean? Your stomach flips at the thought of what he might mean, that the kid is gone. You’re almost afraid to ask. And you hate the painful tug in your chest when his knees give out and he hits the concrete floor with a thud. There’ll be bruises in the morning.

“He’s with a Jedi, he’s with his people but-” He gestures vaguely, and you know what he means. You felt the same way every time he left you. If the kid’s a Jedi, he probably should be in the care of people who know what to do. But you can’t imagine how it must have felt to just hand the baby over. 

“He’s where he belongs.” You’re trying to stay cold, you really are. 

“Is he?” 

It’s hard to be cruel to a man who’s just given up his kid. To a man you love. 

He says your name again, softly, tearfully. The shudder of a sob ripples through his body and he heaves a deep breath at the same time you do. You can feel it creeping back, every uncertainty you had the day he walked out of your old house. Every bone in your body screams for you to reach out to him, to comfort him the way he should have comforted you when he left you crying for him on your kitchen floor. He can’t be here. You have to make him go. 

“Mando-”

“My name, please use my name.” He interrupts you, desperately. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t hear you call him Mando. It never sounded right, not the way his real name does when you roll it around on your tongue. He needs to hear it.

“Din, you can’t stay.”

It’s so hard to hold steady, to keep your voice even, to not just throw it all away and gather him into your arms the way you want to. The way you need to. You were right, all those months ago, when you told Kes you’d take him right back if he walked through the door.

“You’re home, you know that? It’s you.” 

You say nothing, for fear your words will crack and give you away. 

“And- and every time I left or you left it just, nothing felt right. Not until we were together again, and it scared me. And I hurt you because of it, that’s my fault.” He sighs, defeated, but continues on when you stay silent.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I- it’s inexcusable. I don’t know how to- how to fix it. I don’t know if I can,” Din hangs his head in shame, “You should hate me. I do. I pushed you away and hurt you, when all I ever wanted was you. Just you.” 

It’s not enough to soothe the scars in your heart, the ones that settled deep and angry and split open time and time again. The ones he put there. But maybe there’s room to make a start.

“I don’t hate you,” You press on even as his head shoots up in surprise, “Against all my better judgement, I love you. Pretty sure I always have.”

It’s quiet for a long time. And you think this is when he tells you he’s not good enough for you, that he never will be, and he leaves for the very last time. You know you won’t see him again if he does, but he’ll take your heart with him anyways. 

“Cyar’ika.” He breaks the silence. Again. But it’s softer than the last time you were in this position. 

“You’ve called me that before.”

“I’ve called you that a lot of times, you were only awake once.”

“What does it mean?” You’re almost afraid to know the answer.

He lifts his hand to his shoulder, to a pauldron with an unusual skull welded to it, and detaches the mechanism. It clatters to the floor, but Din’s gaze remains firmly locked on yours. He does the same with the other and lifts the bandolier over his head. That too is abandoned on the ground.

“Sweetheart.” His vambraces, this time. One, two clang as they hit the floor, followed by his thigh plates.

“Darling.” The chest plate. 

He’s kneeling, surrounded by his armour, by the definition of the man you thought he was. All but the helmet. You love him, you can’t deny that. He’s baring himself to you in ways he never has before and you know what it means to him to do this.

“Beloved.”

Your brain stops working. You were so ready to shout and scream and punish him for what he put you through but suddenly none of it matters. Because he’s here, he’s finally here, and he’s telling you he loves you and that’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

“Take it off, please?”

And so you do.

Your feet are moving towards him before you can even register what they’re doing and you haul him up off of the ground. Din winds his arms around you automatically, without a second thought, until there isn’t a breath of air left between your bodies. No armour, no barriers, just two people who have done far too much damage to each other to ever know anyone else the way you do. 

His eyes. Oh god, his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled. Finally, finally.

“That’s my line.” He chuckles as you smile, as you feel that gap in your ribs quiet after all these years. An unfilled space, no longer.

Din kisses you, and you let him.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @altarsw @darnitdraco​ @greeneyedblondie44​

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

Unsaid Emily

Title: Unsaid Emily - Charlie x Reader

Words: 4,698

Summary: Y/N is one of the songwriters working on Julie and the Phantoms and cowrote Unsaid Emily. When she has to work with Charlie, sparks fly.

Requested: Only by my idiot brain

TW: None

Author’s notes: I mean no offence to the writers of Unsaid Emily, but I needed it to be this way. Also, I know Charlie just got his car, but it fit my timeline.  I hope you like it.

Credit: @nikascott​

Receiving the call from Netflix to write a song for a kids’ TV show about a ghost band, you were hesitant, but your friend Dan talked you into it. You had written as a duo before – you wrote lyrics while he conjured up what you personally considered the most beautiful melodies – but this job was just for you. 

The brief you’d been given by the show runners didn’t give much away. A song for a runaway son to perform for his estranged mother after his death. The only other information given was that his mother’s name is Emily. Usually, you like vague briefs such as this, but without knowing more, you struggle. 

After speaking to one of the showrunners, you’re invited to meet the writers for more information, so you drive down to where the legendary Kenny Ortega is putting the cast through their paces at a band bootcamp. You’ve worked with Kenny before, so when you arrive, he welcomes you with a smile and a hug before the two of you disappear to discuss the song you’re struggling with. 

“Why don’t I introduce you to Charlie who’s playing Luke. He’s had intensive discussions with the writers and myself about his character and may have some insight on what kind of things Luke would want to say to his mom.” Kenny suggests rather than only speaking to the writers. 

“That would be great, but only if you can spare him for a few minutes.” 

“It’s not a problem. Hey, come and grab some lunch with me, I’ll introduce you, and then you can get the information you need.” You loved Kenny and wanted to write the best possible song for his show you could. Standing, you grab your bag before following him out and over to catering. 

As soon as Kenny enters the large room, he’s called out to and waved at. With a wide smile, he responds to everyone as the two of you grab some food and sit at an empty table. While you eat, you discuss the show, and Kenny’s hopes for it. 

“It may be aimed at a younger demographic, but I want it to appeal to all ages.” He stated as you’re joined by a group of kids so good looking, they can only be the cast. “Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s one of the songwriters we’ve commissioned. Charlie, once you’ve finished up with lunch, could you spare her ten minutes to chat with her about Luke?” The cast members all say hi before returning to their food. It’s clear to you they’re all creating friendships as they laugh together. But Charlie isn’t getting involved as he looks at you. You can’t help but stare at the actor as his hazel eyes lock onto yours, a small smile on his face as he nods. 

“Sure, no problem.” He smiles wider and you almost choke on your food. Kenny looks over at you, a strange smile on his face. 

:: :: 

“Hi, you needed to talk to me?” Charlie moves along the table once everyone has left to get back to work. You look over at him, noticing how young he looks. From what Kenny’s told you about the cast, you’re not much older than him, but with his short hair and boyish smile, he looks a lot younger than he is. 

“Hey, yeah. I just want some insight into the character of Luke.” 

“Which song are you writing?” He asks, genuinely interested. He leans his chin on his hand waiting for you to answer. 

“The one he writes for his mom after he runs away.” 

“Oh, wow. Tough break.” You can’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

You pull a notebook out of you bag and open it to a page where you’d scribbled some questions about the character. 

For half an hour, the two of you sit, chatting about the show, about Charlie’s character, and by the time you finish up, you’re pretty satisfied that you can head home and make the song work. After thanking Charlie for his time, you pack your notebook away, ready to go out to your car and drive home. 

“Do you fancy coming and watching a rehearsal before you leave?” He asks, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand. You really shouldn’t, you need to get back home to start working, but you’re intrigued by him. Throughout your talk, you were impressed with the passion he has for both music and acting, but more than anything, the character he’s going to be portraying. 

“Sure, but I can’t stay long. I have a song to write for you.” You grin as you follow him out of catering and into the rehearsal space. Immediately, Kenny calls you over where he’s sat with the young girl playing the lead role. She’s listening to a piece of music you don’t recognize. 

“All good?” He asks when you join him. 

“Great. I should be able to get a rough cut over to you by the end of the week. Is that okay?” 

“Fabulous, I look forward to hearing what you come up with. Ready to see these amazing kids rock out before you go?” 

“Am I ever.” 

“Guys, let’s run through Now or Never.” Kenny calls out. Charlie and his bandmates grab their instruments while the young girl you now know as Madison turns the music off and leaves the stage area. 

As the three guys rock out, you can’t help but watch Charlie. He’s a natural lead singer who commands the stage, even in rehearsal, and you know his fanbase is going to explode once the show airs. You take note of his singing range, mentally adding it to the notes you made earlier. 

“Kenny, you’re onto a winner with this show,” you tell the director as the song ends. “I’m gonna head out and get started. I’ll let you know once we have something for you.” 

Kenny hugs you before turning his attention back to the actors and starts directing them to lead into another track as you exit the room. As you reach your car, you hear footsteps behind you. 

“Y/N, are you leaving?” You turn to see Charlie standing behind you. 

“I have a song to write, the final one y’all need if I might add.” You smile at him, pulling your keys out of your bag. 

“I can’t wait to hear it.” 

“Well, I better make it a great track then, huh?” Your words made Charlie grin widely again and you couldn’t help but think how beautiful it was. 

“You’re the only one to ask about the characters, so I have no doubt it’ll be amazing.” 

His words didn’t surprise you. You were a bit of a method songwriter, needing to get into the correct headspace when writing emotional songs. 

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint.” You bit at your lip as the ever-familiar seed of doubt began to grow in your mind. It happened every time, but you always managed to ignore it. 

“I’m sure you won’t. Hey, I was wondering if you’d let me hear it before you send it to Kenny.” That did surprise you. You’d been hired by Netflix, yet the lead actor was asking you to share something with him first. 

“Er… I’m not sure if I’m allowed. I mean, what if they don’t like it and don’t use it?” 

“Oh, right. Okay. Anyway, it was nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for you to shake. When your hand was in his, he lifted it and placed a soft kiss against your knuckles. A flicker of heat shot up your arm and your eyes shot to lock onto his. Judging by how wide they were, he’d felt it too. Eventually, you withdrew your hand from his, even though you didn’t particularly want to. 

“You too. Good luck with the show.” Unlocking your car, you climbed in, and started the engine. With one last look at Charlie as you pulled the door closed, you forced yourself to pull out of the parking lot and drive away. 

:: ::

          |@charles_gillespie started following you

 You stared at the notification on your Instagram account. It had been two days since your trip to meet up with Kenny and the cast – well, Charlie in particular – and you’d been working hard on the song. Intrigued, you clicked onto his profile and scrolled through his photos. He clearly loved the outdoors and spent a lot of time hiking or camping. You can’t help but smile when you see photos of him with his family and friends. 

You follow him back and put your phone down to pick your guitar back up to continue working. 

         |@charles_Gillespie sent you a message 

Hey 

Hi 

The app indicated Charlie was typing, then he wasn’t, then typing again, but no message came through. Shrugging, you put your phone back down and continued working. You had a title, a melody, and had almost finished the lyrics. It was full of emotion and if asked, you’d totally admit you had cried more than once while writing it. 

How’s the song coming? Another message from Charlie. It made you smile, but you needed to finish working. You turned your phone off and focused. 

Finally, the song was finished. All you needed to do was to record a rough cut to send over to Kenny and the writer so they could see if it needed any amendments before sending over the final version along with the chords and lyrics. You head into the tiny studio you have set up in your apartment and record the song. It takes three takes for you to get through it without crying, but once you do, you send it straight over and stop working for the night. 

Turning your phone back on, it buzzes insanely with a slew of notifications. Friends checking up on you, your parents inviting you to dinner, an email from Kenny telling you they love the rough cut and asking you to send a cleaner copy tomorrow, and a couple of messages from Charlie on Instagram. Now you’re able to respond properly, you open the app. 

Sorry if I’m disturbing you. 

I hope the song’s going well. 

Hey, sorry. I turned my phone off while I was finishing up. Kenny has the rough cut, so I’m about to chill out and watch a movie. Hope all is well at bootcamp. 

You worry the message you reply with is overly formal, but it’s too late as it’s showing as being seen. You busy yourself making some food and picking out a movie to watch. Settling on your couch to watch the first To All the Boys movie, your phone begins to buzz. 

Charlie 👅🍀

Instagram video 

With a slightly trembling finger, you accept the call and soon Charlie’s face fills half of your screen. 

“Hey, Y/N.” he smiles brightly at you. 

“Hey.” You’re a little confused about why he’s calling you, but you decide to go with it. 

“Kenny played me the rough cut of Unsaid Emily. I just wanted to tell you it’s beautiful and I can’t wait to sing it.” 

“Thanks, I’m glad everyone seems to like it.” 

“Y/N, we didn’t just like it, we all loved it. So many people were crying when they heard it.” 

“I would apologize, but my mom taught me not to tell lies.” His laugh burst out of the speaker on your phone. 

“Don’t, it’s great. It’s gonna be a great addition to the show.” 

You grab the remote for the TV to turn the volume down as the film you’d picked to watch was starting. 

“Hey, what movie are you watching?” he asks when you apologize for the interruption. 

“Oh, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.” You can’t help but notice he scrunches up his face, and you also can’t help but notice how adorable it looks. “What was that face for?” 

“I didn’t think you’d be a chick flick kinda girl…” 

“Oh, I don’t watch it for the story.” You can’t help but laugh as he tries to work out what you mean. 

“What’s the point of watching it then?” 

“Because Noah Centineo’s pretty to look at.” You don’t add the fact he’s not as pretty as Charlie. It’s not exactly something you can admit on a first Instagram video call – not that you’re expecting there to be more. 

“I’m not going to disagree, but is he prettier than me?” You laugh and roll your eyes at him. 

“I’m not going to answer that question on the grounds that I barely know you.” 

“I can see you blushing, Y/N. I think you think I’m prettier, but don’t want to admit it to my face.” He’s full on laughing now and you can’t help but join in. 

“Carry on teasing me, I’ll end this call.” You threaten, making his eyes widen slightly. 

“I’m sorry. So, tell me about yourself?” You see him getting comfortable on what looks like a bed. He’s soon lying sideways on the screen in front of you. You decide to mimic him, propping your phone against a glass candle holder on the table next to you. You lie on your side facing both your phone and the TV. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Well, for starters, how old are you?” 

“I’m twenty-five. You?” 

“Twenty-one.” 

For two hours, the two of you throw questions back and forth as the movie comes to an end without you noticing. 

“Do you think you’ll come to set?” He asks you, surprising you. 

“I think it’s doubtful. Once I record a cleaner version of Unsaid Emily, my job’s done. I’m not needed anymore.” 

“Oh…” Did you detect a hint of disappointment in his voice? No, you didn’t. 

“Well, this has been fun, Charles Jeffrey Gillespie, but I have an appointment in the morning, and I really need to get some sleep.” You sit up, take hold of your phone, and walk out of the lounge to your bedroom. 

“Taking me to bed, already? Haven’t even had to buy you dinner.” Charlie jokes, making you roll your eyes at him. “Okay. Maybe we can do this again? Bootcamp lasts for a while longer yet, then we’re going to film in Vancouver.” 

“That would be great. And thanks again for being nice about the song.” You both say your goodbyes and once the call has ended, you collapse back on to your bed, unsure exactly what has happened. 

:: :: 

It’s been three months since you had Unsaid Emily accepted by the show, and in that time you and Charlie have video called on Instagram a few times, but you’re both crazy busy. You’re working on a score for a videogame while he’s finished up with bootcamp and has relocated to Vancouver to start filming. The entire time, neither of you suggested meeting up even though you both lived in L.A. 

You’re just leaving your parent’s home when your phone rings in your bag. Not recognizing the number on screen, you debate not answering it, but brush your thumb across the screen anyway. 

“Hello?” 

“Y/N? It’s Kenny. Are you okay to talk?” 

“Hi Kenny, I’ve always got time for you.” You hear him laugh down the phone. “What can I do for you Mr. Ortega?” 

“I was wondering, because you did such a great job with Unsaid Emily, if you’d like to come on set to watch it being filmed? See how we’ve adapted it?” Well, that wasn’t what you expected to hear. 

“I’d love to. When do you film?” 

“The day after tomorrow. I’m sorry it’s all so last minute, but I’ve been busy.” 

“I can just about manage it. I’ll book a flight when I get back home, then I’ll message you for directions to the studio.” 

“Sounds great. See you soon, and I really think you’ll love what we’ve done with the song.” You reassure him you will and end the call and get into your car to drive home. 

After juggling a few things around, you’re able to book a flight to Vancouver for the next afternoon. When You message Kenny, he reassures you there’ll be a car waiting for you. You decide to book a hotel for two nights and a flight back the next day. You’ve never been to a TV set, and don’t know how long these things take. As you pack an overnight bag, you realize you’re excited, not only about seeing your work come to life, but seeing Charlie again, in the flesh. 

:: :: 

Arriving in Vancouver, you walked through the airport and out into the arrivals lounge, looking for the driver Kenny had sent to pick you up. You were able to bypass having to wait for your luggage thanks to only having a small carry-on bag so made it through the crowds pretty quickly. When you emerged, you saw a row of drivers holding signs, but none had your name on. Deciding to find somewhere to sit and call Kenny, you move past the drivers in black suits. Directly in front of you is Charlie wearing a wide grin. 

“Hey you. Moonlighting as a chauffeur to make ends meet?” You tease as you approach him. He surprises you by pulling you into a hug. 

“It’s weird not seeing your face on a small screen.” He jokes as he leads you outside, taking your bag from you. You can’t help but notice he’s been working out and his biceps are looking impressive. Well, you knew he had anyway thanks to his constant posting on Instagram, and from your video calls, but seeing it up close makes your mouth go dry. 

“I’ve had to put make-up on. No filters in real life, Gillespie.” He rolled his eyes at you as he unlocked his car, an orange Nissan Juke.

 “Some car there…” You struggle to hold in a laugh and his mock hurt look. 

“Look, it may not be pretty, but it’s great for camping and heading out of town to go hiking.” He was almost pouting when he finished speaking. 

“Okay, okay. I give in.” you climb into the car. “Why aren’t you on set?” 

“I wasn’t needed for a couple of hours, so I offered to come and meet you. I have to be back once you’re checked in at your hotel. Sorry it’s a bit of a rush.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I can go out sightseeing while you’re working hard.” You grin at him. “I’ve never been to Vancouver, or Canada, before.” 

“You’ve clearly lived a very sheltered life.” He’s teasing so you just stick your tongue out at him before turning your attention out of the window as Charlie maneuvered the car out of the parking lot. “Have you even left California?” Again with the teasing. 

“Not only have I left the state, but I’ve also even left the country.” 

“That’s cool, where did you go?” 

“I studied in London for a year, then I backpacked around Europe for another, before coming home and becoming a functioning member of society.” 

“That’s actually pretty awesome. I’d love to do that, just travel around for a year and get to see so many amazing places.” There’s a look in his eyes you recognize. Wanderlust. 

Before long, Charlie’s pulling up outside your hotel and helping you out of the car. 

“I would make sure you get checked in okay, but I need to jet. I’m sorry, shall we meet up later, I can introduce you to the rest of the cast.” 

“That would be great. Message me so I know when to be ready and where to meet y’all.” He agrees, places a soft kiss against your cheek and gets back into the car. You watch him drive away before going to check in. 

:: :: 

When you took the job of writing a song for a TV show, you never expected to find yourself out to dinner with the cast of said show, watching them do karaoke. All of them have included you, which made you feel as if you’re part of their circle, despite their many in jokes and stories from set. Madison greeted you like an old friend, telling you she’d head a lot about you from Charlie. That surprised you because you hardly knew him beyond the few video calls you’d had. 

“He talks about you all the time, and Owen says he can hear his side of the conversations. He teases him about it all the time.” You stare at her, confused. 

“That’s crazy. We hardly know each other.” 

“Doesn’t stop feelings from happening.” She laughs at you, before dragging you up to perform with her. 

The entire evening is a blast, but you all have to call it a night early thanks to their early call to set. You plan to call an uber back to your hotel, but Charlie insists on making sure you get back safe. As you say goodbye to the others, Madison give you a look you don’t even attempt to try and decipher. 

“Thanks for tonight, I had a great time. You’re lucky you guys are so close.” You tell Charlie as your uber moves through the dark streets. 

“Yeah, they’re great and we’re like a family. I know it sounds corny and clich��, but it’s the truth. I think that’s why Kenny set up bootcamp. It makes going to work so much easier.” 

Silence falls over you, but it’s a comfortable one, and all too soon, you’re pulling up outside your hotel. 

“Thanks for making sure I got back safe.” You say as you get ready to climb out of the car. Charlie surprises you by following you. “Oh, you don’t need to see me inside, I’m a big girl.” 

“I know, but my mom would kill me if I didn’t. I was taught to make sure pretty girls got home safe.” You laugh but are filled with warmth at him calling you pretty. 

“I bet you use that line on all the girls.” You give him a nudge with your shoulder which makes him laugh. 

“Not really.” He holds out his elbow for you to tuck your hand through as he walks into the building. 

Once you’re outside your room, you turn to face him and thank him for inviting you out again. 

“It was a pleasure. I just hope you had a good time.” 

“I really did. I’ll see you in the morning, then.” 

“Yeah, see you.” 

:: :: 

The following morning, you’re up at what feels like the crack of dawn. You’re regretting the shots you had the night before as you climb into an uber to head over to the studio. The closer you get, the more excited you become. You’ve seen your songs brought to life on screen before, but you’ve never been there for the filming. 

As you climb out of your car, you hear someone call out your name. You turn to see Madison and her dad walking toward you. 

“Hey Y/N. How are you feeling after last night?” She asks, giggling slightly. You’re more than a little jealous of the fact she’s a minor and is unable to drink any alcohol. 

“A bit delicate, but nothing a strong coffee won’t cure.” You smile as she introduces you to her dad as the three of you walk inside. They stay with you as you’re signed in and given a visitor’s pass. 

“What do you know about this scene you’re watching today?” Madison asks you as you follow her through the hallways. 

“Not a lot if I’m honest. I know a little background to the song and Luke as a character, but nothing else.” 

“Woah, you’re in for a treat. I hope you didn’t wear any eye make-up.” Mr. Reyes laughs at his daughter’s words as you reach the catering tent. The aroma of coffee is calling you. “Well, I’ll see you soon, I’m first in hair and make-up.” The young girl gives you a tight hug and leaves you to fuel your need for caffeine. 

By the time you’ve finished your drink, and a bagel, the tent is filling up around you. You spot Kenny entering and he makes a beeline for you. 

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you again.” 

“Thanks for having me. I’m honored to be invited. I know this is a bit unusual.” 

“Honey, you don’t need to thank me. It was this guy’s idea.” He stepped aside to reveal Charlie, in full Luke costume. 

“Oh…” 

:: :: 

Standing next to Kenny, you’re silent as the opening bars to your song start to play. A lump has already gathered in your throat as you watch Charlie as Luke singing to his mother who can’t see him. You knew it was an emotional song, but hearing it sung live and in context of the show, you can’t quite believe it’s yours. 

You know they have some scenes to film that will be cut into the scene, but you can’t help being mesmerized by the tone of Charlie’s voice as he sings a song of regret. 

You feel tears pricking at your eyes as rounds a corner of the set, belting out the final pre chorus, the rasp to his voice, and tears flowing down his face. Kenny takes a look at you and grabs hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“You did good.” He compliments you. Wiping at your eyes, hoping your mascara isn’t running, you shake your head. 

“No, that was all him.” Once filming’s over, you make an excuse to Kenny and head outside for some fresh air. You’re feeling overwhelmed and in awe of what they’ve done with your song. 

“Are you okay?” Charlie’s voice is soft as he walks up to stand next to you. 

“I’m fine, just a bit overwhelmed. I never expected it to… to be that good.” You realize you could have offended him and begin to stumble over your words. “Not that I mean… you’ve got an amazing voice, and you injected so much hurt and pain into the song. It sounded better than I ever imagined it to.” 

You feel like a bumbling idiot and turn away from Charlie so he can’t see the embarrassment on your face. He moves to stand directly in front of you, using his hand to gently lift your chin so you have nowhere else to look but directly into his eyes. 

“If the song wasn’t right, I wouldn’t have been able to do what I just did, so it’s all on you too.” It feels as if his hazel eyes are looking deep into your soul. 

“Thank you.” You finally accept a compliment, making him smile. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” 

“Why did you ask for me to be here today?” 

“Because the moment I heard the rough cut of Unsaid Emily I felt it was only right you be here. There something in your lyrics and melody that will truly have an affect on the audience, and I felt you needed to see that for yourself.” He suddenly let go of you and looked away. 

“Why do I feel like there’s an ‘and’ coming?” 

“And… the moment I heard that rough cut, I needed to know more about you. That’s why I followed you on Insta and started the video calls. I needed to know you.” 

You don’t know what to say, not that there’s time for you to. Charlie looks back at you, places his hands on your waits, and bends his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It’s quick, but gets your pulse racing. He pulls away, slowly. 

“Is Noah Centineo still prettier than me?” 

You laugh before crushing your lips against is again, this time not so softly.

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Tags: @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @xplrreylo​

If you’d like to be tagged, just drop me a message.

[jjaybank]

Makeover || JJ Maybank Request

[gif credit to @rudypankows]

Request: Anon- ‘Can i perhaps get a JJ Maybank x reader, she’s been part of the pogues since forever and shes kinda boyish, like the way she dresses and acts so other boys have never hit on her or looked twice and its bothered her since cause she wants to be girly but doesnt know where to start. So Kie & Sarah gives her a make over for a Kegger and it leaves the pogues & even the kooks speechless because wow she’s beautiful and JJ doesn’t know how to be himself around her anymore? 😭❤️❤️’ Okay so I’ve changed this a tiny bit I hope that’s okay?? Just because, I don’t think JJ needs someone to dress a certain way in order to fancy them. I hope thats okay!!! xx Warnings: Under-age drinking, tiny bit of jealous JJ Word Count: 1.5K A/N:  It was so nice to write non-angsty JJ for a bit - it’s good for the soul.

------------------------------------------------------------

JJ had always known that you were beautiful.  You always had your hair pulled up in a bun and out of your eyes, and your clothes were more practical than fashionable.  But despite the number of times he’d seen you drenched in sweat from the sun, or emerging, winded from the sea, after being wiped out by a wave, he just knew that there was something about you.  It annoyed him slightly, that other boys barely seemed to show you any attention, and then when they did you were completely oblivious. He’d often catch himself gazing for too long at your sun kissed skin, sparkling with seawater. Or watching the way you scrunched up your nose when you were concentrating. So when he sees you, face made-up and in a bardot sundress, he chokes on his beer.

You were sat in John B’s spare room, face to face with two very insistent girls.  You had protested Kiara and Sarah’s suggestion of a makeover at first.  It didn’t feel very you, but they were stubborn, you’d give them that.  You finally cracked when Sarah stuck out her bottom lip and started packing all her outfits back into her bag at a snail’s pace, shooting you over-the-top sad glances the entire time.

‘Okay, okay – fine.’ You sigh, kind of playing up to how much of an inconvenience they were being.  There was definitely a part of you that was excited by the prospects of embracing your feminine side.   Sarah looked like she’d won the lottery, and tipped her bag up on its end, spilling a variety of thin, slippery, short items of clothing onto the floor.  

The brushes and powders made you sneeze, and Kie accidentally poked the mascara wand into your eye.  You try on every combination of the outfits at least four times, growing more and more reluctant. Until Kie finally helped you settle on a simple yet elegant dress.  You couldn’t remember the last time you wore a dress.  Perhaps your Christening?  Sarah struggled for a while to tame your sea salty hair, and then finally they turn you to look in the mirror.  You audibly gasp.  Every element of yourself is still there; the slightly wild hair, the bruised knees, and wide toothy grin – but it’s all slightly more refined and you look, dare you say it, pretty.   You sat with a drink in hand, waiting for the other two to finish getting ready.  It wasn’t too much longer before all three of you made your way outside to where the boys had been waiting on the hammocks. John B stared a bit as you crossed the yard to them and you suddenly felt absolutely ridiculous.  Sarah and Kie noticed you slowing down, and each grab you by and arm and practically frogmarch you over to your friends. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ Sarah reassured you, ‘you look amazing!’ You give her a weak smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.   ‘Y-you look – you guys look great!’ Pope stuttered as you reach them.   John B tipped his beer towards you all and asked if you could leave for the party now. JJ turned around in his hammock and was about to complain about how long you had all taken, and that was when he choked. The others all pealed with laughter as beer dripped down his front, and he laughed too but not before giving them a reproachful glare.   You felt a bit self-conscious.  What if he thought you looked ludicrous?  Wasn’t the dress a bit short?  You shifted a bit, trying to pull it down as much as possible.  Kie noticed and slapped your wrist sternly.   ‘Stop it, you look awesome.’ She hissed. But JJ couldn’t stop looking at you, and while he always knew you were beautiful, it stunned him to see you embrace it for yourself. ~ You didn’t see the looks you got that night. You were having far too much fun with your friends to take note of the boys who checked you out as you danced past them.  But as you twirled with Kie in the moonlight, beer in hand, JJ did notice.  And additionally, he noticed how annoyed it was making him to see Kooks and Pogues alike obviously ogling at you.  It was as if he hadn’t admired the way the light shone on your bare shoulders, or how your loose hair rippled as you moved.  He was sat on an empty keg, observing the scene before him, occasionally frowning at people who asked him for a drink from the barrel in front of him. He grew increasingly frustrated when an arrogant looking Kook walked up to you and attempted to catch your attention.   He watched, seething, while the guy with his slicked back hair tried to convince you to leave your friend and dance with him instead. You looked confused and shook your head firmly.  It pleased him to see you turn him down.  He didn’t stop watching you, as you and Kie walked over to where he sat.   ‘More beer, Y/N? Wow you really are on a roll tonight’ he flashed you a tight-lipped smile, reaching out to collect your cup.  You obliged, and hugged yourself against the slight chill of the night. ‘Did you see that guy hitting on Y/N’ Kie chirped ‘Yup.’ Said JJ curtly, feigning concentration on the keg.  He couldn’t look you in the eye for fear that he wouldn’t be able to tear his gaze away. You eyed him suspiciously but tried not to think too much of it.  He’d been looking at you strangely all night, and you wished you knew what you’d done to irk him so.

~

The night was almost over before you saw JJ again.  You were speaking to some Pogue guy you had seen around a lot before.  You were sure he had introduced himself, but his name had slipped you mind almost the moment it had left his lips.  He kept touching your arm and trying to move in closer.  He seemed sweet, but he really wasn’t your type.

Speaking of types, you were somewhat relieved to see JJ bobbing towards you through the throng of youths.  

‘Elliot!’ He cried, clapping the boy on the back, oh yeah – that was it. Elliot. ‘There’s a friend of yours looking for you down by the water.  Didn’t catch the name.  Vague looking guy.’ JJ had a huge fake smile slapped on his face as he ushered the boy away from you.  

‘But-. ‘Elliot looked at you, puzzled.

‘Bye, Elliot’ you waved.  JJ saluted at him, as Elliot threw up his arms in defeat.

‘Thank you.’ You laughed, ‘I really don’t know what that was all about.’  You gestured towards the retreating figure of the boy who had been bothering you.

‘I think I might.’ says JJ, gently moving you through the crowd of people and away from the centre of the party.  His fingers were wrapped lightly around your wrist as he guided you.  You were being bumped by elbows and sloshed with beers, and JJ tried to shield you with his arm.

‘What?’ you asked innocently, looking up at him as he finally gets you both out of the writhing mass of teenagers.

He looked down at you in disbelief.

‘You really can’t see it can you?’ he asked.

You were suddenly aware of how close he was. And unlike with the other boy, you felt at home at this proximity with JJ.  He hand was still on your wrist and you felt a strange buzzing sensation from where his fingers made contact with your skin.   He laughed incredulously at how oblivious you were to all of the attention you had been getting.

‘All the people here tonight,’ he gestured to the crowd as he spoke, ‘they’re all just realising how beautiful you are.’

You blushed fiercely, staring sceptically at the mixture of drunken souls moving with the music on the beach.

‘I mean it, Y/N.’ he said, and then he seemed to suddenly realise what he had said, and his face glowed with a rosy hue.

You smiled widely despite yourself.

‘You said I’m beautiful’ you teased, poking at his side.  He rolled his eyes and laughed,

‘Yeah don’t get too used to it.’  He winked at you, pulling you slightly closer.

‘Were you jealous of them?’ You asked suddenly.

‘Of who?’

‘All the other guys.’

He swallowed thickly.  

You looked up at him, swaying slightly from the alcohol you had been drinking like water all night.  

And maybe it was the haze from the beer, or the heated atmosphere of the kegger, but before you knew it you were closing the distance between the two of you.

You stood on your tiptoes to press you lips against his.  And at first it was soft.  His lips tasted of smoke and alcohol.  You weren’t sure if he had momentarily frozen in shock, but suddenly his hand twisted in your hair and his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You clung onto his shirt.  The kiss was all-consuming.  You could barely hear the sound of the party anymore – it was just you and JJ, surrounded by the thrill of each other.  He tugged slightly on your hair, eliciting an involuntary moan from you.  You felt him smile against you, and you were intoxicated in the delight that was kissing JJ.

He pulled away for a moment, but only to murmur,

‘For the record, I’ve always known that you’re beautiful.’

You grinned.

‘Knew it,’ you said triumphantly, looping your arms around his neck, ‘you were jealous.’ -------------------------- Ah I’m so tired so i hope you liked it!  Please let me know ☺️

My requests are open xx

[amindofstone]

Match up, No. 4

@alexnuxx said:

Hi there. So..

my mbti is intp 5w6. I am chill and lazy but also calm. I am a more serious person, but sometimes i laugh in inappropriate or stupid situations and I also like goofy people. I have a big problem about losting in my thoughts and it's hard to get my attention because of that.

All my clothes are black but most of the time I choose either elegant style or oversized clothes to feel comfortable. I have a black mullet and green-brown eyes, i wear glasses and i'm skinny because it's hard for me to gain weight.

I think it's hard for me not to like something because I usually ignore it (maybe really sensitive people cuz i dont know what should i do when someone cries. Ah, and really arrogant people get on my nerves) , but I like reading, listening to music, drawing, sleeping and eating.

Ah, and im 18yo.

Thanks and good luck<3

a/n: Hey sweety. I´m glad you requested. When I read your request I couldn´t help but realize that you have some traits that resemble the one of mine. Like getting lost in thoughts, being chill and calm. Wearing either elegant or oversized clothes, listening to music, sleeping. I honestly never thought I would find someone that resembles me in so many aspects. Anyways I hope you enjoy this little work of mine. If there is anything that bothers you please do not hesitate to tell me so I can make it better. Other than that happy reading.

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): Maybe grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I´m still improving in every aspect (Please have mercy on that.)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: !!!

· After a bit of thinking (and making two other match ups for you I absolutely wasn´t satisfied with. Like I was about to smash my phone against the wall but then I remembered that it was expansive as fck and a Bday gift. So yeah here we are… *crys again. Now after evrything is done I regret not pairing you up with my first choice. But I thought you might not like it... Just like now.... *screams internally) I decided to pair you up with Beckman. I know! I know. BUT HEAR ME OUT AND GIVE THIS MAN (and me please) A CHANCE. I´ll do my best to make you at öeast like it a tiny bit. Just give it a chance. Pretty please?

· Alright. *breathes in, *nervous, *breaths out. Author talks to herself “Are you dumb?! Get it to work!”

· Like I said I'm gonna pair you up with a man that is as feared as his captain. He's the first mate called Benn Beckman

· Beckman has a quiet and laid back personality with a quite serious facet. And exactly that was what got you two to get to know each other.

· You were working at the bar of the island the red hair pirates docked on. They were having a good time drinking and celebrating as always.

· You were preparing a customer a drink when two man sat at the counter and asked for a beer. Slowly with minutes passing more man surrounded the two and caused a positive vibe. They were talking, laughing and having a good time. Once in a while you were taking their orders had a short chat with a red haired man but that's it. Not long after you realized something that caught your eye and made you smile. You went to your coworker and long time best friend and told her to look at the man with the white hair and the cigar.

· She followed your description and let her eyes wonder around the place until she found him. But she didn't quiet get what made you laugh so she asked you with a confused look.

· “You always tell me that I have a serious expression but look at him. His friends are laughing and celebrating while he sits right at the middle and looks like he got forced to be there.”

· Your words made your coworker laugh and get back to work with a huge grin on her face. You didn´t mind at all and were happy that you could make her laugh when they called for a waitress to probably order more beer. But that’s when you regret making fun of him. Your friend started to laugh and made the red haired man look at her confused. When she got a hold of herself she pointed a finger at you and seemed to tell them something that made all of the men laugh but one.

· Your cheeks turned red and you literally wanted to run out of the bar to hide under a rock. But you couldn´t and just turned around with your back facing them while their laughter echoed in your head.

· Your face was red and when touched one would have thought you had a fever. When your coworker came back still laughing she hugged you and said that none of them is made at you but rather amused by your words. Mostly the man you were talking about. Towards the end of your shift the man with a neutral looking gaze was still lingering at the bar with his friends. After the incident you didn´t dare looking in his direction and did your work at the back of the bar. You stepped out of the bar and were about to walk down the streets when someone tapped your shoulder and made you turn around.

· “I´m sorry to bother you but do you mind telling me your name?”

· You were confused and scared to death but the question of the tall man in front of you made you wonder why he wanted to know that so you asked. But he simply smiled at you lovingly and said: “I would love to know the name of the woman that seems to resemble me so much.”

· That was the moment you to actually got to know each other. Until now his captain and the entire crew he was part of made fun of him of the way you and him got together

· Beckman is a quiet and serious looking man that only talks when needed. It´s not that he doesn´t like being around people it´s just his calm and peaceful nature that gets him to be in his cabin while being busy reading a book. And since you joined the red hair pirates he´s not always that alone in his cabin

· Beckman loves your pure chill nature. You´re not like the woman his crew mates sometimes bring over or meet up with. You are laid back and honest. Sometimes to honest that causes Shanks to turn into a pouting 6 years old but that’s fine because the friendship you have with Shanks balances the calm and peaceful relationship you have with your partner Beckman You three have a great relationship with each other since you seem to be a mixture of Beckman and Shanks that makes you get along with the both of them so well. But also the crew thinks that you are the female version of them

· Dating Beckman is like walking through a forest in a warm sunny autumn morning

· He seem to be cold and always serious but he´s not. He is a caring gentleman that won´t let you carry a bag or even you coat.

· He always has a hand on the lower area of your back while walking through a island

· Every night he would ask you if you need anything or planed to do anything in the next day to make sure to schedule his day after your plans

· At the morning he would always ask you if you slept well and if you had a dream or not. And if you had one he would make you tell him about it because he loves listening to you

· There are moments he would find himself staring at you with a tiny smile on his lips that would make his captain tease the hell out of him when he see it

· The moments I am referring to are when you´re leaning against the railing of the ship with a dreamy look on your face that would signal him that you´re once again lost in your thoughts. And in those moments he would make sure no one is around so he could come and hug you from behind while nuzzling his face in your hair, asking you what you were thinking about. You would smile and take his hands in yours to intertwine them and tell him “It´s nothing.” When you were actually thinking of a peaceful life with him somewhere were no ne would find you or know you. Just the two of you.

· And each time he would smile and say that he would someday find out about that little “nothing” that was able to put a smile on your lips when it should be him doing that

[pastelsandpining]

Bittersweet

Previous | Next

Summary: Link stays a moment with a friend to think about the princess and her valiant, endless fight against evil incarnate--and what she might mean to him.

Words: 2112

Warnings: questioning of faith, survivor’s guilt if you squint, let me know if there’s anything I missed, it’s kind of just super bittersweet haha

Masterlist

Please do not comment anything HWAOC related as I do not want to be spoiled! :)

______

“Master Link, are you alright?”

The Rito bard meant well. He was one of the many who’d been nothing but kind and helpful towards him since the very beginning. Yet his question made Link pause the drumming of his fingers against the wooden platform and frown.

“I’m just thinking,” he decided to say as he looked up.

“Ah,” sighed the bard, who turned his gaze towards the vast expanse of Hyrule. “Yes, happens to the best of us. Would you perhaps like some company?”

Link shrugged with a gesture to the open area besides him. 

“I apologize if I overwhelmed you with my song,” spoke Kass again as he took a seat. “But I suppose everything is a little overwhelming.”

“That’s generous,” Link replied simply and busied his fingers with the Sheikah Slate. He tapped through the compendium, through the photo album, through the map, just to have something to look at other than his friend. And after a moment of thought, he shuffled back from the edge of the platform. “She’d kill me herself if I dropped this.”

“Do you remember much about her?” Kass asked, ending another stretch of silence. 

Link frowned again, tracing the swirling patterns with his fingers. What could he say, really?

Everything from the mossy trees to the breath that sustained life carried the Princess of Hyrule with it. There were bits of her everywhere. 

She was nothing more than another ghost in the beginning—a face he couldn’t make out, a voice that called from nothing, a girl he should know but could not recall. But when he stood under the arching gate of Lanayru Promenade, with the overgrown grass scratching his boots and chilled wind from the mountain biting his nose, her face became as clear as crystal.

And suddenly, every petal of a Silent Princess carried her name, and every gust of wind echoed her voice, and every touch of the sun’s light mimicked her smile, and every Hot Footed Frog was a hypothesis, and every piece of Sheikah technology he uncovered was her passion, and every drop of rain was her grief, and every deactivated guardian was a totem of her power, and every glance towards the castle was a token of her love.

There were glimpses of her hiding a smile behind her hand. There were glimpses of her fingers brushing so softly against his that he wasn’t sure any of it was real. There were glimpses of his fingers tracing gentle lines over the shapes of her face while she slept. A kiss, light as a feather, to the inside of her wrist. A grab of her hand as they ran for safety. She was the heartbeat that kept Hyrule alive, and there were so few who knew that—but he did.

“She’s everywhere,” Link answered softly, wondering vaguely if she could see him or hear him from the confines of her prison. If she could, the wind was quiet.

Kass gave no response, but his gaze was something understanding, and he was compelled to continue speaking.

“I don’t remember everything,” he said and fiddled with the Slate again. “I don’t think I ever will. I didn’t know where to start at first. But she left me pictures and now everything reminds me of her. Sometimes she’s the only thing I know, and I don’t even know her.”

“Would you like to?” Kass asked, as if he really had a choice in the matter.

“I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Link spoke, but it wasn’t quite true. He couldn’t be certain, but a part of him simply felt that Zelda was, somehow, very much alive. It came with every warning she whispered out when the blood red moon was high in the sky. It came with every tap to the Sheikah Slate, which she once held and studied so dearly. It came with every glance towards Hyrule Castle, and each feeling of dread, of guilt that it caused. It came with every memory of her, whether she be submerged in a spring or invested in her studies. It came with the very life that filled the kingdom—the life that she’d been draining herself of for the past century.

“She is stronger than anyone gave her credit for. I would love to meet her.”

“She’s smart,” Link added, turning his gaze back to the ancient piece of technology in his hands. “Too smart. Research was her passion, and all that remains of it is with me. I hate to keep her waiting.”

“For you, Master Link, I believe she would wait however long it takes.”

If it were possible, she would. But fighting took so much that she didn’t have a forever to give. She’d served enough time.

“You said she loved me,” Link spoke at last. The words made his heart twist violently, like it wanted to wring out all of the pain. 

“Loves, yes,” Kass said softly, setting a feathered wing on his shoulder. “She loves many things and many people, and she loves very deeply. I believe it was my teacher’s one mistake—her sacrifice was not solely for you. Yet one does not throw themselves into the aim of a kill without harboring a deep connection.”

Link turned his gaze towards the castle again, wondering not for the first time if perhaps he’d loved her too. He woke with nothing, with hardly a name to himself, and still he followed her. She was but an echo in a vast and darkened tomb, and still he was compelled to listen to her, to obey her, to call out to this being that filled him with such a foreign familiarity. He’d never met her—not in this Hyrule, but he craved getting her back from the thing that had separated them a century ago. And he knew that simply being a knight devoted to his kingdom didn’t sink this far. Her voice was a comfort, her face in his memories was a safety he didn’t know he’d lost, and a simple knight attendant wouldn’t dream to see her smile, rumored as warm as the sun, with his own eyes.

And faintly, he could remember the feeling of her lips on his—a moment of clarity in what must’ve been the worst birthday on record. Goddesses, what he wouldn’t do to have her back.

“Can you love someone you don’t know?” Link wondered aloud, watching the clouds move slowly over the darkening backdrop of the sky. 

“There are little rules that love follows. Once you accept that, I think, then answers come easy.”

A soft sigh slipped past his lips. Kass was right of course, just as he always was, even if he didn’t know what to say to someone with a situation as twisted as his.

He knew Zelda before, had loved her before—and if the demon of destruction Calamity Ganon had become could surpass lifetimes on hatred alone, then why couldn’t love last past a century? It made him all the more anxious to end this, because only then would he know for sure. Only seeing her before him, feeling if she was truly solid, would answer his questions. And she was the only tie he had to his life over one hundred years ago.

“And if I fail? Again?” Link asked, and the weight of the Master Sword doubled, like the burden had never left his shoulders after all—because it hadn’t.

Everyone he’d met, they were all depending on him. And if he failed, then the events of a century ago would repeat. There would be no resurrection shrine this time, no sacred princess to hold the Calamity back as they waited for their hero. 

“I believe our fates have been set out long before us. There’s no changing what the goddesses have in store. Whatever happens was always meant to happen, and no fault for that lies on your shoulders, Master Link.”

“Would they let their kingdom burn?” Link said, gripping the Slate so tightly that his knuckles whitened. “Would they turn their backs on us again, on Zelda, after we’ve done nothing but show them loyalty?”

“Do you believe they would?”

He turned his gaze away, because he did. They’d already done so in the years they ignored Zelda’s pleadings. They’d already done so by allowing the slaughtering of Hyrule as their princess begged and cried for those same people to be saved. They’d done so by making their goddess incarnate wonder whether or not she was meant to be who she was. And they’d done so by ripping him from her grasp, then dropping him back into existence with nothing but a body and a deep, foreign sense of grief. And maybe this anger, this blame he felt towards the goddesses was not helping them to grant him the kindness he knew he needed for this journey. They’d taken everything from him, and now they expected him to turn to them for help and grovel at their feet and beg them to save their own kingdom.

How cruel the deities could be.

“It’s alright,” Kass continued, as if he simply knew. “I think everyone doubts their faith at times. With the suffering you’ve endured, how could you not?”

“What do you think?” Link asked. “About the gods.”

For once, the bard did not have an immediate reply. He hummed as he thought, and Link took to watching the first few stars peek through the dusk. A light twinkling at the end of the darkness. The irony was not lost on him.

“I think the more time that passes, the more clouded it becomes,” the Rito said at last. “The details of the goddesses become fuzzy, and we take to retelling victories alone. I think the gods of our world are very old, and communications have dwindled even in hours like these because they, too, are tired. But I know that we will never truly understand the gods. Oh, we may have our theories, but they have existed far longer than us.”

Link wondered partially if that was true. The sword told the tale of a thousand lifetimes, with a hero’s spirit tied to each one. And with every hero, there was a daughter of Hylia to go with them.

At this point, living a century after the time he once belonged in, he absolutely felt like a god that had lived forever. 

“I’m angry,” Link admitted, though he was sure he didn’t have to. “I’m angry they turned their back on us, and I’m angry for Zelda—that she’s had to fight alone for the past century after everything else she’d been through.”

“Are you also not fighting alone?” Kass asked. 

“No.” His reply was immediate, coming without a second thought, because he’d never truly been alone for any of this. Even before he met his newfound friends, Zelda guided him. And he could do no more than whisper into the air and hope that it carried on the winds to her, and that she was listening. “I’m not alone.”

“Neither is she,” the bard assured. “As long as there are people who remember her, and as long as you stand with intentions to help her, she will never be alone.”

The words made his voice catch and his lip tremble, so Link ducked his head and fiddled with the gloves over his hands. 

Zelda deserved the world as soon as she got out of her prison. It was time he stopped with his fears, because she was counting on him. All of Hyrule was counting on him—again. And he needed her like he’d known her his whole life.

“You'll be the first to meet her,” Link promised as he glanced to his friend. “She’ll love you.”

“It would be my honor, truly. And perhaps then I will write my own song about a boy who traversed mountains and deserts for the girl he held dear, and a girl who brought destruction to its knees for the people she loved.”

Link cracked a smile and said, “As long as I’m the first to hear it.”

“Oh, of course.”

He turned his gaze back towards the sky. The moon was just beginning to peak over the horizon, as big and white and calming as it belonged. He wondered vaguely if, wherever she was within that castle, she could see it too.

“I think I do love her,” he said softly.

“And there is no shame in that,” Kass replied. Another feathered wing was set upon his shoulder. He was grateful for the comfort. “I have faith that you will get her back for us. For you.”

“I’ll do anything.”

And he meant it.

[razieltwelve]

The Best Present (RWBY AU Snippet)

Death sat in her temple and brooded. It wasn’t often that she brooded. She was normally more cheerful, and it was a good thing too. A depressed and broody Death usually meant a dead everything else. That said, she felt she was entitled to a bit of gloom and doom this time of year. In her lap, Zwei made a comforting sound and nudged her with his head.

“Hmm... I wish my temple was this grand and magnificent.”

Death turned her attention to the large man in red and white clothing who had strode through the doors of her temple. “Santa...”

Santa gave her a fond smile and gestured vaguely at the rest of the temple. “It’s a little bit dour don’t you think?”

Death chuckled. “Well... I am Death.” Her temple’s interior decor usually favoured red more than black, but this time of year was an exception. None of her clergy were old enough to remember when she’d first made the change, but they knew better than to question one of her few direct edicts. “Is this a business call?”

The jolly spirit of Christmas shook his head. “Not really, just a visit to an old friend.”

Old was an appropriate term. Of all the beings associated with civilisation, Santa was one of the oldest. He had existed ever since the first gift had been given while Death had existed since before the concept of time itself. To say that they were old friends was something of an understatement. After all, they were two of the most powerful cookie-loving entities in existence, and Death had been mistaken for him one more than one occasion due to her ability to seemingly go wherever she wanted and know whether or not people had been good or bad.

“I thought you’d be busy, you know, since it is Christmas Eve and all.”

Santa pulled two glasses of milk out of thin air along with two plates of cookies. He handed one glass to Death along with one of the plates of cookies. “We both know that I can be everywhere at once if I have to, maybe not all the time, but on this night, at least.”

Death dipped one of the cookies into the milk and took a bite. As expected of Santa, it tasted perfect. “So...?”

“It occurs to me,” Santa said. “That you’ve been a very good girl for a very, very, very long time, but you’ve never gotten a gift from me.”

Death chuckled. “You’re only supposed to give gifts to mortals.”

“True, but I am also supposed to bring Christmas cheer to all, so you can see my conundrum. You, one of my oldest and best friends, get sad every Christmas, which really won’t do.” Santa dipped one of his own cookies. “So I thought to myself, why not get Death a gift? True, I’m not as powerful as you are, but I’m not bound by the same restrictions either since my power isn’t truly mine in the way yours is yours.”

Death nodded. “The gifts you give people are determined by how good they’ve been. It’s such a part of your legend that it’s become a restriction of sorts.”

“A bothersome one at times,” Santa admitted. “But not in this case. And, as I’ve said, you’ve been a very good girl for aeons and aeons, so you’re due for something special.” Santa’s eyes crinkled. “Now, I can't make any promises, but you’ve built up a lot of credit, so to speak. Would you like to cash it in?”

Death raised one eyebrow. “Cash it in?”

“There’s not a lot I can give you with only one year’s worth of being good, but if you count all of the Christmases in the past where you’ve been good and never gotten anything... well, I might be able to get you something you’ve always wanted although I can’t make any promises.” Santa’s smile was warm and kind. “So... want to give it a try?”

“I suppose I could.” Death chuckled. “It’s not like I’ve got any other use for the ‘credit’ I’ve built up.”

“Even so, I need to hear you say it.” Santa grinned. “Restrictions and rules and all that.”

Death shrugged. “All right. Very well. I, Death, formally announce that I wish to use all of my accumulated Christmas credit to get the best gift ever. Will that do?”

“It just might.” Santa gave Death the rest of his cookies. He’d only eaten one. “I know that this time of year might make you sad, but on Boxing Day, take a walk around. You’ll be surprised by the happiness you find.”

X    X     X

Death walked around disguised as a mortal. Zwei was with her, disguised as a mortal dog. The pair of them were walking through one of the busier entertainment districts. It was Boxing Day, so there were actually quite a few people out and about. Most of them were families eager to watch a movie or have a Boxing Day lunch with their extended family at a restaurant.

Her lips twitched. She wondered what Weiss would think about movies and modern restaurants and all the rest of it. The queen had been quite amazed when Death had told her about some of the things the future would bring, and she’d never been entirely sure if Death had been joking or serious. Ah. It had been so fun to tease Weiss.

Idly, she wondered what Santa would give her. After all, she was Death. There was very little she couldn’t simply get herself if she was so inclined. Of course, the one thing she wanted was one of the very few things she couldn’t get. For reasons that were now obvious to her, she was forbidden from interfering with the great Cycle that governed the death and rebirth of mortal souls. In a way it was a good thing. Otherwise, there was no end to the tampering she’d do to ensure Weiss came back to her.

Death sighed. She’d promised Weiss that she would wait for her. What was a thousand years to a god like her? What was ten thousand? But she hadn’t counted on how much she’d changed. Those years with Weiss... she’d stopped marking time the way gods did and started thinking about it in more mortal terms. And to a mortal a century was a long, long time, to say nothing of how long millennia felt.

Still, there was something nice about being out here. The families bustling back and forth, the people eager to enjoy a Boxing Day sale or two... it all had an atmosphere that was difficult for the fest of the year to match and -

Someone ran into her. It spoke volumes about how lost Death was in her thoughts that she hadn’t move out of the way. It wasn’t like anyone could hurt her, but she would normally have avoided a collision simply to avoid the hassle that often came when mortals bumped into one another. And the last thing she needed was for people to realise that a god walked amongst them. She got enough veneration at her temple. She didn’t need anymore here.

But all of those thoughts ceased to matter the moment she laid eyes on the person who’d bumped into her.

It was a young woman, one wearing an Atlas University sweater to help with the winter chill. And Death would have known her and her soul anywhere. 

Weiss.

“I am so sorry!” Weiss cried as she reached into her pockets for a handkerchief. “I got coffee all over you!”

Death belatedly noticed that Weiss had indeed spilled coffee all over her. Wait... coffee was normally hot enough to hurt mortals. “Um... ouch.”

Weiss blinked and stopped dabbing at the coffee on Death’s coat. “Um... ouch?” She winced as the very obvious stain on Death’s coat refused to lighten despite her efforts. “I think I’ve ruined your coat.”

“It’s fine.” Death was smiling like an idiot, but she didn’t care. Weiss was here. She was here. Unbidden, Santa’s words came back to her. He wasn’t bound by the same rules as she was, and his power, although fleeting, could be truly incredible given the right circumstances... like when giving a gift to someone with aeons of good behaviour saved up.

Weiss bit her lip. “It looks like an expensive coat though.” She looked about furtively, and Death fought the urge to kiss the frown off her face. Death didn’t give a crap about the coat. It was something she’d created with her power as part of her disguise. “Look... I feel bad about ruining your coat, and I do have some gift vouchers for the coffee shop over there.” She pointed. “Can I make it up to you?”

Coffee with Weiss? Death grinned. “I suppose you could.” At her feet, Zwei gave a happy bark. “Oh, and this is my dog.”

“He’s adorable!” Weiss bent down, and Zwei licked her hand. “Wow. It’s like he already knows me.”

“You’d be surprised.” Death’s grin widened. “So... tell me about yourself.”

X    X     X

Zwei watched as his mistress and Weiss talked over coffee. It had been a long time since he’d seen Death smile so much. He had suspected that this would be Santa’s gift. It was the only thing his mistress wanted that she could not get for herself despite her awesome powers... which was why he’d sought out Santa not long after his meeting with Death.

Even if Santa could somehow arrange a meeting between Death and Weiss, that still left them with a problem. At some point, Weiss would die again. If Death had to wait so long to see her again, well, it might be even worse this time than the last time.

But maybe there was a way to fix that...

And Zwei wasn’t called the best dog in Creation for nothing.

“So... you want to trade in all of your Christmas credit as well?” Santa had asked him.

Zwei had nodded. He would gladly trade in all his Christmases if it meant getting Weiss back more easily from now on. If Santa really could affect the Cycle, then maybe he could guarantee a more regular rebirth schedule for Weiss as well. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be getting nothing out of it. It was Weiss. He loved having her around, and he was sure to get plenty of naps in her lap, belly rubs, and treats to compensate him for his trouble.

“You really are a good boy, aren’t you?” Santa nodded. “Very well. I’ll do what I can. With all the credit you’ve saved up, it should be enough.” He scratched Zwei behind the ears. “And maybe pay a visit to the North Pole soon. It’s been ages since you and Rudolph got to hang out.”

X    X     X

Author’s Notes

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all.

[ifliamsmile]

Days Gone; Dick Grayson| Ch2

summary: After Dick’s death, you faced the worst feeling during months: Grief. Day by day the pain grew inside your life and you had no expectations of being able to pass through that until someone appeared again bringing all of this down but still, a lot of things changed and even though you looked for answers, the turnaround that life brought you was gently welcomed.

pairing: Dick Grayson x y/n

warnings: angst.

prologue

previous chapter

wanna be tagged?

Living without Dick during these months has been the closest I got to hell itself. September, October, November, December and the last image of him saying goodbye still makes me wonder if it’s true the saying that god doesn’t give us more than we can take, because honestly, I’m not sure if I can take this any longer. 

I don’t know how much of myself have died in this time, but I surely can say that a little bit dies everyday, I get alright when the guys are around, Rachel, Jason, Donna, they tried to fix me and I feel a little less broken until I’m alone and lately..that’s all the time.

People often say that when someone dies, their image will fade away, bit by bit, from your mind, but it’s clearly an utterly lie, because Dick’s face only gets more and more real in my head, his voice and the gap in my heart everyday when I wake up and his side on the bed is still empty, yes..it is so  cruelly real to me. 

It was still morning, around 8 AM, when I got up. I took a shower and left to the closest coffee shop. I needed these caffeine doses to start my day, San Francisco was amazingly cold these days and coffee was more than necessary. 

Rachel loves it here, she was still asleep when I left and I couldn’t wake her up since she trained a lot yesterday, so I came alone. 

I ordered my doppio coffee and waited to receive it in the next county. 

“Y/n Grayson” the clerk called my name pointing that my order was ready. I’ve been using Dick’s nickname ever since we got married when we were younger, but hearing it would always remind me of him first. Because I always loved calling him like this when I was mad, or just pretending to be, I smiled to myself hearing my own thoughts. I was going to take a sip of my drink when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I instantly turned around to see who it was.

And for a minute, I wished I could have turned around slowly, because the image I saw in front of me made me dizzy, almost like I would fall on the ground. My hands shaked and the grip on the cup of coffee got loose.

I only realized that it hit the ground when the person in front of me looked down and so did I, following his look.

He had shaved hair and a scar on the side of his head which looked like a wing. And a look..this look that I would never forget, the same tiny and tight brown eyes that he had. I could only be crazy, maybe I’m seeing things, because this man looks exactly like.. Dick. 

He looked at me again, locking our looks and my legs trembled again.

 “Dick is dead Y/n, I’m sorry” 

“He got shot in the head, Y/n. I’m truly sorry. He’s gone” 

Bruce’s voice telling me he had died echoed in my head..it couldn’t be him, Dick died.

“Y/n—” the man spoke and hearing his voice was excruciating. Why does it sound exactly like my husband’s voice? “It’s me, Richard.”

No. Absolutely no. No fucking way.

“How's it even possible?” I spoke, almost inaudibly, shaking my head slowly, in disbelief.

“Can we talk?” he tried to reach my hand and in instinct I moved it away from him but maybe touching him was the only way to find out it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, so I did. I touched his hand and he was there, physically, in person, not less than that and for my relief: I wasn't crazy. 

My other hand covered my mouth and a lonely tear streamed down on my cheek, what was going on? I asked myself.

“Can we please talk? I— I need to talk to you.” he asked again and I nodded, still scared.

“Not here, please— I can’t” I snapped. I couldn’t do this here. He nodded.

“I have a place, can we?”

“Yes.” I said quickly, I needed to get out of there, I wasn’t ready for this.

--

Dick took us to a loft. It wasn’t far from where we were and took us almost 5 minutes to get here, it seemed so new, like he had just got here.

We got in the place in silence, no words were spoken since we left the coffee shop and I was still trying to breath and digest everything.

I entered what seemed to be the living room and he was right behind me.

“Y/n—” he said and I stopped. His voice calling me broke me in uncountable pieces, what did life expect from me? 

I turned around to face him and the tears took my vision again. 

“Richard.” I said his name.

“I’m here— I'm here, Y/n” he said and came closer. Dick took me into his arms and I cried my heart out.

He was back. 

I don’t know how many minutes I spent like this, crying on his chest, but he kept his chin on the top of my head.

“Look at me—” Dick asked “Please.”

I lifted my head and looked at him. He wiped my tears with his fingers.

“I’m afraid I’m truly crazy and hallucinating and—” I said.

“I’m not a hallucination, Y/n. You touched me, I’m real.” Dick said firmly but still soft, looking into my watered eyes.

“It’s too much for me to understand.” 

“Well, I’m not capable of explaining you a lot now, except for the things I remember, but I’ll try my best to make you understand, I promise.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Let’s sit here.” He led me to sit on the sofa in front of a fireplace, which made the place warmer.

I stood there looking at him, waiting to hear what he had to say, anxiously looking for an answer.

He half smiled looking at me, in his usual position, resting his elbows on his thigh, crossing hands.

“What’s so funny, Grayson?” 

“I thought that through all these months you’d have forgotten me.”

“Are you kidding me—You can only be kidding me.” I told him in disbelief 

“Alright, alright, I’m kidding. But the truth is..I don’t remember everything, to be honest, I don’t remember anything..But you.”

He looked at me and I couldn’t say anything, confusion took my look, I was perplexed, he didn’t remember anything.

“What happened in the night you died?” 

“I didn’t..they told me I got shot in an attempt to kill commissioner Gordon, the bullet that hit me was actually trying to hit him. They told me I lost a lot of brain tissue and my memory was compromised. So now I can’t remember anything and the only thing that’s alive enough in my mind for me to remember, it’s you.” He looked down.

“Oh my god, Dick..” 

“They call me Ric, Y/n..” they? Ric? what the hell.

“They?” I asked 

“The people who were treating me. The ones I ran off, my doctor..she was from the Court of Owls, she was trying to keep me there and my memory only got worse so I needed to leave,I— I couldn’t forget the only thing that remained.” 

“This is too much. I can’t imagine how you could deal with all of this.” 

“I couldn’t, I am not dealing, I’m running, I’m struggling because I can’t face it. But finding you is a sight of hope.” he said 

I got closer to Dick, Ric, It didn’t matter because my Richard was back. I hugged him and I couldn’t contain my emotion. He hugged me back, even stronger.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through this all alone, It must have been terrifying.” I told him with one of my hands on his cheek.

“Would you believe if I told you that it feels a little better now?”

“Maybe, yeah” I smiled at him and he opened his bright smile. God, how I missed this, how missed him. “

“Sorry if I went into shock when I found out that you didn't die. I deserve some credit— You should be grateful that I didn't scream or run” I completed. 

Dick smiled. All the sensations that Dick used to cause me were still there, perhaps even more intense. The chill in the belly didn't seem to want to go away.

“Stop smiling, it's not funny at all”  That's what I said, he nodded and broke the smile, but the damn gleam in his eyes didn't go away. 

“Forgive me” Dick said, his intense, emotion-filled tone immediately caught my attention. His gaze held mine, in that familiar way of seeing the depths of his soul. Pure and intense. Sincere and...Passionate. 

I did not dare to interrupt him. Silently, I gave him the authorization to continue. 

“If I could have done everything differently, I would have found you before, just so I wouldn't see you suffer that way. It breaks my heart to see you like this and— to know that I am responsible. You are the last person in the world I would hurt, you know that. I would trade places with you without a second thought, if it were humanly possible.”

I pressed my lips together in a thin line and held a stubborn tear that wanted to escape from the corner of my eyes.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Richard, you got shot, you lost your memory and gratefully you still remember me.”

“Maybe now you see that all the times I told you you were unforgettable it was true.”

I smiled and looked down slightly shy.

“So cheesy, Grayson.”

“I didn’t come sooner because they were watching you.”

“They who?” 

“The court of owls”

“What— Why would they?” I was completely unable to understand this situation.

“That’s what I was trying to figure out before I left the clinic.” he sighed “Especially why they stopped watching you for three days. That's why I approached. I couldn't miss a chance. I've been trying to communicate with you for the past few months, but they just didn't give up. And I couldn't put you in risk, even if I had no idea what they wanted with you.”

I smiled at the end of his sentence.

“You have the incredible power of thinking about me even in the worst scenarios.” 

“Yeah, that’s your fault.”

“What?” I pretended to be mad 

“You heard me, that’s your fault that I can’t stop this, this unending feeling that no matter what’s going on, protecting you with my life will always be my duty. Your fault that I love you like this. Deal with this.” He had a sassy smile on his face and his sincerity made me melt.

I felt Dick's hands gently take my face, so I surrendered to the moment, because there was no reason not to. 

I let my touch feel his lips touching mine, and thanked the heavens for having another chance to kiss him. Because my flawed and ridiculous memory had almost forgotten how splendid it was to be in his arms, having his lips molded to mine, caressing every possible inch of her mouth. 

I had forgotten how wonderful it was to have Dick's strong hands caressing my cheeks, then reaching down to my neck and plunging into my hair, pulling it with the strength necessary to dictate the rhythm of the kiss and transform my desire into the purest essence of lust. 

I had forgotten the intoxicating sensation that it was to have Dick so close, that his perfume tame my nostrils, that his rigid and strong body made me feel protected from whatever harm the world might cause me. 

Because with Dick everything was complete. 

With Dick everything was just fine.

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Ghost Of You (Part 5)

Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

W.C. : 3200

Summary:  The war with Voldemort was over. Draco Malfoy was forced to flee for his life ending up in Muggle London where he met you, the muggle whose house he broke in looking for a place to hide. You agreed to let him hide in your house if he promised to let you live your life normally. How will your relationship work as time passes and you both realize you’re no longer just partners in crime?

A/N: Can someone expalin to me the sorcery behind feeling like I wrote an entire book and realizing is shorter than previous parts? Because I don’t get it and I’m confused. Doesn’t matter, I’m back and ready to keep posting.

Again, thank you for the 100 followers. Love you all my Skittles (Yes, I am calling you skittles).

Please, let me know what you think. I love reading your comments! Shoot me an ask or somthing if you would like to be tagged. Enjoy and happy reading!

*Not my GIF. Credits to the creator*

You were frozen staring at the man just outside your door. Visibly shaken, your grip on the doorknob turned your knuckles white. Both, Jack and Draco’s eyes landed on you after a minute of silence. both in worry and confusion.

 Jack cleared his throat, looking at you “Can I come in?” he asked in a serious tone.

 “We were actually in the middle of something.” said Draco before you could answer yourself, stepping forward his chest bumping with your back. You gave him a hard stare, wondering if he actually remembered the turn your little chat had taken. You noticed then his clenched fists at his sides, he didn’t want Jack there.

 You moved your body aside, using it to push Draco back with your steps. The door opened completely, letting Jack inside with a soft Come in from you. Waiting until Jack had made it all the way to the living room, you turned to Draco behind you “Don’t think you will get out of this so easily, Malfoy.” you hissed, poking his chest.

 You were already turning to go to Jack when a cold hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you dangerously close to him “Don’t call me Malfoy” he said lowly, marking every word. His last name practically growled with a deep burning hate.

 “Or what?” you looked straight into his eyes, his grip on your wrist tightening “You’re going to force me?” you dared, his entire face turning red.

 “I promised I wouldn’t but you are being really tempting at the moment.” he mumbled letting go of your hand and storming to the kitchen without a word.

 You watched him, wanting to feel bad but you were really worked up because of everything he said before Jack’s interruption, he clearly was holding back from using his secrets to make him leave and to make you behave, as he had called it, so you let him go turning to the living room where Jack was.

 He was sitting at the couch, reading over the few papers you had left there from your work. He had always loved to go over your work, saying he had so much to learn from you. You were tempted to let him be a little longer, unfortunately you and the man in your kitchen didn’t have the time or patience to be nice.

 “What are you doing here Jack?” you asked sharply making him jump in his seat. He quickly placed the papers back from where he took them, jumping to his feet.

 “I came to see how you were,” he said simply, giving you a nervous smile “ I saw Sally and she told me you were sick.” he explained.

 Jack, was a sweet caring guy, there was no denying it. But you felt his behavior out of place. If you still were together you would have never minded him dropping by your place unannounced claiming to be worried about you, but you weren’t and the fact that it wasn’t the first time he had done it was even more infuriating.

 “Jack, you can’t keep doing this.” you sighed in defeat, rubbing your temples with tired look in your face “You ended things, remember? Not me, you.”

 “I know but…”

“No, you can’t keep coming here just because you heard I’m sick, or because  you heard I had bad day at work or because you miss me, you just can’t.” your words came out so fast you doubted he even understood what you said but his hurt look said otherwise.

 He let a breath out turning in his place, he ran a hand through his hair “I’m sorry, okay.” he spat turning his face to you, two steps and he was in front of you holding your hands in his.

 “What?” you said loudly, shaking your hands out of his “What do you mean you’re sorry?”

 “I made a mistake,” he told you with a determined look in his face “I know I did, but I felt like you didn’t love anymore and then you said you didn’t want to get married or have a family and I got scared!”

 “And then broke up with me.” you added with a fire in your eyes “I know, I was there.”

 “But then I didn’t see you for months, you wouldn’t even look at me at the halls at work, never talk to me and I realized how important you are in my life” he said, desesperacion taking over his features.

 But you had stopped listening at some point, your body felt like a statue at the tension gathered in every single one of your muscles and you were surprised that you weren’t visible shaking. “Y/N…” he whispered, seeing you had a dead look in your eyes, remaining completely silent.

 “And all it took for you to realize that was breaking my heart.” you mumbled so low he frowned, taking a hesitant step towards you “My. Heart.” you repeated, making him stop dead in the spot.

 “I’m sorry.” he whispered shakily with glossy eyes.

 “Being sorry is not enough Jack!” you snapped, pointing at him with sharp movement of your hand “I loved you, I cried every night because it wasn’t enough for you just being with me and you are sorry?” you yelled in disbelief, a stray tear rolling down your cheek.

 He had a dead look in his face, and you thought maybe you had gone too far before he scoffed, taking you by surprise.

 “Didn’t took you too long find someone else, though” he grunted, his eyes shifting to the kitchen before returning to you.

 “What is that even supposed to mean?” you asked, cleaning your cheek with the back of your hand.

 “C’mon Y/N” he said, his arms flying in the air when he began to pace back and forth “You are the most popular teacher at school, you were at everyone’s mouth.”

 You stared at him wide-eyed, the tears falling now freely down your cheeks “What?” you stuttered, covering your mouth with your hand.

 “Please, don’t act like you don’t know. Everyone at school saw you with the mysterious blond man. ” he mocked and you turned to the kitchen, remembering the day that Draco forced himself into your work, entertaining the entire class with the made up stories of your time together at college.

 You would have smiled at the memory, being more funny now that Draco had assured you he would never do something against them, but you felt numb as you face Jack once more “You’re jealous.”

 “What?” he spat, stopping his pacing.

 “You didn’t came here because you were worried,” you said meeting his eyes “You came here because you’re jealous of Draco.” you muttered, watching his face contort into one of confusion.

 “Who the hell is Draco?” he asked, and you quickly realized your mistake stumbling back.

 The sounds of the kitchen made you look back, a couple of crashing sounds catching your attention. You were about to walk in there when Draco emerged, positively on high alert when his eyes landed on you “We need to go,” he said grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door not even waiting for your answer.

 You let him pull you with him leaving Jack behind, you tried to talk to Draco, asking him all kind of questions that he wouldn’t answer. His face moved wearily over your car and the fence separating your house from your neighbors.

 “Hey!” Jack shouted, following you out the door “You can’t just run from this, you…”

 Draco cursed under his breath, turning momentarily back to Jack “Would you just shut up?!” he hissed, pulling you to your car.

 He place his hands on your shoulders and looked you straight in the eyes “I need you to get in your car, drive as far away as you can. I will look for you, okay?” he ordered, seeing the tears in your cheeks “Do you understand?” he asked softly, looking wildly for your eyes bringing his thumb up to your cheek, cleaning the tears there.

 You shook your head, eyes wide as you glanced from your home to him “No.” you told him, trying to sound more confident and failing getting a small smile from him.

 “Y/N,” he called you when you started to rant, making you stop “They found me.” 

 You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, shaking your head furiously at him “No, I’m not leaving you.” you cried, stepping away from him and the car “Let's’ go to the police, they can do something.” But you didn’t hear whatever he answered you, your eyes focusing over his shoulder on the cloaked figures emerging  from down the street.

 Everything around you slowed down, the masks in their faces sending chills down your spine as one of them raised their arm towards you, holding in their hand an object like the one Draco carried with him at all times. You didn’t have time to shout anything, your body acting on its own as the words coming out from the person right in front of you were muffled by the pain of your body landing over Draco’s.

 Your scream was cut short when Draco and Jack both reacted, kneeling beside your car taking cover from the sudden flashes of light being thrown in your direction. You were in a complete state of shock as you slowly turned to Draco, his back at you when he rose to his feet, shooting the same flashes of light from his wand, yelling words you couldn’t fully understand.

 Jack was yelling beside you, but you were unable to move your eyes from Draco. Everything you didn’t want to believe when you connected the ideas of him carrying a wand with the inexplicable reason as to why he could make you do his will with a whisper in your ear was becoming true right before your eyes.

 “Merlin!” he yelled, snapping you out of your trance “Silencio” he casted, pointing his wand right at Jack, who shoot his hands around his throat with a distraught look.

 The heavy breathing coming from Draco made you realize it was the only sound you could hear. You turned to him, his head poking over your car before he took your hand again “C’mon” he breathed out.

 He started running, never letting go of you. You managed to grasp your hand around Jack´s jacket, pulling him with you enough for him to follow. Draco took you out of the streets, entering the forest behind your house.

 You had ran for minutes, the lights tiny dots in the distance. Looking around you, you saw nothing but trees that looked the same, everywhere you turned looked the same. You wanted nothing but to stop. And you did.

 Draco turned to you, searching your eyes with a questioning look before he saw your shaking form “We can’t stop now, love.” he told you with a pleading look, reaching his hand for you to take again.

 Just when you were about to take it, something pulled you back, your fingers barely brushing his “No” said Jack with a hoarse voice “I don’t care who you are or who is after you, you’re not taking her with you.” he placed an arm around you, pulling you behind his body.

 Draco made a sound from deep in his throat, fighting his own body to not launch himself at Jack “You’re lucky I let you follow, if it was up to me I would’ve left you with them.” he mumbled, walking forward and you followed breaking out of Jack’s hold.

 “Draco.” you called, quickening your pace to keep up with him “Draco!” you yelled, seeing as he kept on ignoring you.

 He snapped his head at you, clenching his jaw he moved his eyes anywhere but you “What?” he muttered coldly.

 “What...How did they found you?” you stuttered, glancing back to make sure Jack followed. You jogged, taking his arm with your small hand, only managing to make him turn towards you.

 But the sounds of laughter reached your ears and you turned back, the echo making you snap your head in every direction you heard it coming from. Draco took your shaky hand in his again walking further into the woods, not really knowing how to return home, or if you ever would.

 “Draco!” someone sang, voice echoing in the air “You can’t hide forever!”  

 “No.” he muttered, looking wildly in every direction he could.

 The woods were dark, no light that came from the moon or the stars helping you as he cursed under his breath “Lumos.” he whispered, a soft light shining from the tip of his wand, making you stumble back and not falling for his tight hold in your hand.

 He gave you an apologetic look, mouthing something you couldn’t understand before a whisper behind you brought you back “There you are.”

 You both turned with a jump, a woman standing behind you with a grin in her face, her wand moving a stray piece of hair from her face. She tilted her head, eyeing your entire body before she dedicated a dark smile to Draco.

 “You’re supposed to be dead.” he said sharply, pulling you behind him.

 She laughed, walking around so she could keep an eye in both you and him “Don’t sound so sad to see me.” she said, her voice raspy “After all, we are family.”

 Your eyes looked for any reaction in Draco but he kept a stoic look at all times “I don’t know you.” he muttered, glancing swiftly at you.

 You didn’t know what to do, not understanding anything of what was being said or was happening made you even more frustrated, your eyes burning with the unshed tears you were fighting to keep at bay. You couldn’t breakdown there. The three of you had to make it alive first.

 Your heart stopped inside of you, eyes looking everywhere around you for Jack.

 “Oh, Draco” she pouted, her eyes shining with amusement “You hurt my feelings” she placed a hand over her heart before her eyes fell on you, your stomach turning inside you “Who is the mudblood, Drakey?”

 “Stay away from her,” he growled raising his wand towards her, using his body as a shield “It’s me who you want, leave her out of this.”

 She chuckled darkly, taking the same stance as Draco “Doesn’t mean I can’t make you watch as I play a little with her, your death can wait.” she said and you fisted his suit jacket in your hands.

 “Touch a single hair in her and you’ll regret the moment you came looking for me.” he threatened flicking his wrist, a red light shooting from the tip of his wand.

 She gasped, her eyes wild as the blue shield she had created dissipated from the air “You were always weak minded, just like my traitor of a sister.” she hissed and Draco didn’t need to take two look into her eyes to know what was coming.

 He ordered you to run, giving your hand a quick squeeze before he started dueling the woman again. He shouted spell after spell, moving expertly he draw his wand across his body and pushing with force towards her.

 You would have been in awe of him, but the image of the woman on the opposite side make you want to run and never return. She was enjoying herself, she had went out of her way to hurt Draco and now she had him right there at the end of her wand to her disposal. You had to do something.

 Draco was purposefully walking back, trying to get a grasp of you and where you were hiding. He knew there were more death eaters around, but he would have never imagined that his aunt herself would be leading the hunt for his head.  She knew she had been loyal, but never to want to kill him after all was lost. He should’ve have known.

 She struck one right blow at Draco, immobilizing him just enough for her to walk to where he stood still “Did you know your own mother helped find you?” she said, bringing a hand up to his face. “Not even your own mother can stand the idea of you, you blood traitor.” she spat, wrinkling her nose.

 “Go to hell.” he said through gritted teeth, staring deep into her eyes.

 She gave him a look of disgust, making a puking sound before patted his cheek “That’s no way to treat Auntie Bella. But first,” she said, clapping her hands together and looking around “Where’s that mudblood friend or yours?” she asked.

 “She has nothing to do with this!” he shouted, watching Bellatrix walk back with a grin “Leave her and I’ll go with. No fight.”

 She opened her mouth, the words getting stuck in her throat as she fell to the ground with a thud sound. Draco stared at the unconscious body of her aunt on the ground before he snapped his head at the squeaking sound coming from you.

 You let the piece of log fall from your arms, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. You glanced at her, taking the wand from her hand “Did I kill her?” you asked Draco shakily, your eyes were puffy but you had stopped crying and were more in shock. Numb.

 “No.” he told you, following your eyes “She’s still breathing, see?” he pointed to her chest, the air flowing in and out of her lungs. He clumsily took a step towards you taking your arms and pulling you to his chest in a hug. “We need to move, love.” he said, the words muffled by your hair in his face.

 You nodded, pulling away from him “I found Jack” you told him, starting to walk “He’s unconscious too” you showed him to where he lay on the dirt. Draco kneeled beside him, examining his body before he gave you a satisfactory nod.

 “There are more of them in the woods,” he told you, looking straight into your eyes “I need to get us out of here, including your git of an ex.” he mumbled pointing at him on the ground, grabbing  your hand “I can do that, but I need to know you would be fine.”

 “Why?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself. He took off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders carefully.

 “I need to know you won’t get scared and run.” you took a hesitant look to Jack before turning to Draco.

 “Okay.” you whispered, hearing the sigh of relief from his lips.

 He stretched his hand at you, taking yours and lacing your fingers with his “Take Jack’s hand, please.” you did as he told you, looking at him again “Are you ready?” he asked you and you were sure you would never be ready, but you had no choice, so you gave him a weak nod. He took his wand out, giving you one last glance before the world around you spiraled away.

 Then everything turned black.

*******************************************************************************************

SURPRISE! For the purpouse of this fic Auntie Bella is alive :) 

TAGS: @fanficflaneuse​ @accio-rogers​ @gloriousrebelrunaway​ @slytherinprincess03​ @coldlilheart​ @aasthapiplani​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @l1teralegend​ @infinity1o1​  @nevermore9292  @artist-bby​ 

[milktyama]

— ☕︎ FALL IN LOVE

a/n: ok this was originally an idea to mock my friend about her and her crush and then I realized i put too much effort and reminded me of Oikawa because him plus friends to lovers is an absolute YES

pairing: oikawa tooru x female reader, third!person

genre: fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers

wc: 1.5k

❥︎ slight swearing

Oikawa Tooru is a magnet for tough love. It’s not his fault; he’s always caught in the bad crowd, whether he likes it or not. But he has one person that sticks with him in all circumstances, L/n Y/n, his best friend.

Y/n is your happy-go-lucky that can’t take anything seriously, even during serious times. Though, she’s always witnessing her best friend get broken time after time. And it hurts; a lot. She wishes she could do more than just listen and maybe crack a joke here and there to lighten the mood.

One night, during their daily late night calls at ungodly hours, Oikawa opens up a little too much to Y/n; letting his emotions from his previous failed relationship overflow him.

“She just used me like a toy. I feel so dumb for falling for her tricks like that. She rubbed it on my face and even told all her friends, which I thought were also my friends, how much of a piece of shit I am. When can I find someone who won’t break my heart anymore?” Oikawa sighs as he brushes his long locks over his head. His hair glimmers in cool shades of blue reflecting from his LED lights in his room. Silence spreading eerily throughout the room. Why is she so quiet? He thought to himself. He rubs away the warm tears in his eyes as he slowly glances at his phone, seeing a single tear dropping from his best friend’s face. “Wait Y/n what’s wrong! Don't cry over my sad love story, this isn’t anything new...”

She sniffles hard and harshly wipes the single tear with her sleeve.

“Exactly why I’m crying. Tooru, I know I’m not great at being serious, but you can’t keep getting into these relationships that break you apart, because when I hear them, I break a little too.” tears choking up in her throat. She doesn’t last much longer until they start falling again. It just hurts a lot. Watching him in so much pain. But why does it hurt so much more tonight?

“Dumpling stop crying, you’ll make me feel even worse.” he coos, calling her by the nickname he gave her in attempts to help lessen her tears. He can’t watch her cry like that. Not her.

Oikawa sighs deeply, trying to find a solution to lift both of the aching pains in their hearts.

“Wanna come over and cuddle a little and watch movies? I can play Disney movies, your favorite.” he trails off, the corner of his lips lifting into a gentle smile to the screen of his phone. God, how much does she love that smile. She could look at it all day. Y/n looks up from her hands and shines a smile at her best friend. Her smile is just as beautiful as the autumn leaves turning into their beautiful burnt caramel red at the peak of fall. She shyly nods her head, embarrassed that she just cried so much in front of him.

“I’ll come pick you up in 10. Get ready and dress warm. It’s the peak of autumn and I don’t want you to catch a cold. Or… do you want my hoodie?”. She perks up at the statement. Intensely nodding her head, unconsciously clapping. Just how perfect can she get?

Ending the call after the elongated farewells, even though they will be seeing each other very soon. Oikawa hops off his chair and moves into his closet. He picks his favorite white hoodie and folds it neatly in half. She will look so adorable in this one. And it’ll be so big on her too. Oikawa chuckles and smiles to himself.

Y/n is not short. She is considered to be on the tall side for girls, but Oikawa just loves teasing her about it, especially since he is a solid head taller than her. He just loves laying his chin on top of her head, calling her minimizing nicknames suggesting that she is petite in height.

He makes his way to Y/n’s house and when he arrives, he texts her to come down. Y/n tiptoes her way down the stairs, quickly leaving a note for her mother in the kitchen counter that she will be at Oikawa’s. Opening the door, she is greeted by a chilling breeze of a fall night and his very tall and well built friend, with a hoodie hanging over his arm. He extends the hoodie to her and without another word, helps her into his hoodie that lingers with his scent. Y/n stuffs her nose into the clean hoodie, slightly warm from his body heat while carrying it. Fooling around the sidewalk, they walk back to Oikawa’s, hands in each other’s pockets because ‘the body heat will keep them warm’. They really just needed each other’s presence; the teary call from a few minutes ago fading from their heads.

Y/n jumps onto his plush bed, allowing her body to relax on the cloud-like surface, muscles releasing tension. Oikawa comes inside with select snacks and her head perks up. Of course he knows her favorites. Snuggling up onto one another, they watch the TV in peace; breathing became slow and his heartbeat pulsing against the side of her head. Hands interlocking with one another as his thumb gently rubs circles onto the back of her hand.

As the credits roll, he catches her mumbling to herself, palms clasping together and eyes tightly closed. Pressing his lips closer to her ear, he whispers out in a low tone.

“Dum dum what are you doing?” After a few seconds, she looks up through her lashes, eyes sparkling as a teasing smile curves at the edges of her thin lips.

“I’m praying to get a boyfriend like how the princesses get their prince charming!” He could only chuckle at her. Fuck she’s so adorable. How can someone mesmerize him as much as she did? She truly possesses some sort of power that allows him to feel this comforting heat swelling in his heart.

“Don’t be stupid, these are fairy tales ok? There won’t be a prince charming in a horse coming to your rescue. Plus, you are the last person to fall for such an act.”

“hEY that was mean! Let me just have my fantasies Lazykawa”. She rebuttals with a nickname for him of her own. It suits him; and his reactions were cute. Her attachment to his nickname was evident.

It was rather unintentional. After calling his nickname, Y/n brings her hand to the top of his head, slightly ruffling his hair while gently patting it at the same time. Her fingers brushing through his brown locks. She’s so enthralled by his hair and he’s too busy watching her expression that the space between has grown only shorter. Faces only a few centimeters away from the other, both of their gazes fixes on each other’s eyes, locking eye contact for what feels like an eternity.

Both of their breaths hitch and as if on queue, his hand gently rests on her left cheek, lifting her face up slightly. The world around them stops, as if they were the only people there. His free hand snakes around her waist, closing the gap even more. Snapping back to reality, she softly pushes against his chest, finally breaking eye contact.

“This… isn’t what friends do...” she mumbles under her breath, a deep shade of red tinting her cheeks. It was wrong. They were best friends and there were certain lines they cannot cross, no matter how close they are. He pulls away a little, as if agreeing to her statement, but why does she feel disappointed by it? Their bodies are still dangerously close together, Oikawa takes a leap of faith and brings his fingers under her chin, pulling her face up once more. Leaning into her ear, the words slips through his lips as if it were a melody.

“Well… do you want to stay as friends?” His words were gentle, yet possessive. His heart pounding against his rib cage; he really hopes he didn’t mess the bond with the one person he cared about most. She is everything to him. There is a sudden push, airing a little gap between them, and in that moment, regret flashes through his mind. He messed up didn’t he?

Well her actions say otherwise. Gripping onto the collar of his hoodie, she pulls him closer until their lips brush, pausing for a moment in case this isn’t what he wanted. Though the pause didn’t last long, as he gripped her waist once more, connecting their lips into a deep kiss full of emotion. Threading her hands through his hair, responding to his deep kiss with passion. The need for oxygen finally separates them, foreheads leaning to the other while panting. He gives one final peck in the middle of her forehead, looking at her eyes fondly whilst caressing her hand.

“So… it’s official now, my princess?” She nods in response to his question, slamming her body into his for an embrace, cuddling her face against his chest. Every year, they would spend time together like this, and this fall, was a particular special one full of love.

[malmuses]

The lovely folks who have been reading along with Russian to the Altar had been asking for a little bit of Cas POV. They want to know if he’s having the same experience as Dean, or if this is different on his side, what he’s thinking, how he feels.

Well.

I obliged.

However, I don’t think that this was quite what was hoped for when those requests first came in...but it is what worked best for the story, at present, and I think it’s a valuable insight for readers to have during the upcoming chapters. So here ya go, lovely readers.

***Spoilers for Russian to the Altar below the cut!***

  The heavy winter comforter that Dean had outfitted his guest room with suddenly felt suffocatingly hot, to Castiel.

Guest room. It hadn’t felt like a guest room for months. It had felt like his room, his home. But now Castiel lay paralyzed in the dim moonlight that seeped through the window at the front of the house, overlooking the street beyond, and it didn’t feel like his home anymore. Perhaps it never had been. Perhaps he’d only been fooling himself. It hadn’t been about the room, though, of course. It wasn’t the furniture, rescued from estate sales and done up on Dean’s own time, or the freshly painted walls, or the books on the shelves, or the typewriter at the desk. None of those had been home.

Dean had been home. Or so Castiel thought.

The wan moonlight, often romantic and soft and pretty, was nothing but mocking. Dean’s breaths weren’t even on the other side of the bed, he was still awake. He probably wanted…he probably wanted, needed, to talk some more. To be comforted. Dean was often chatty, very snuggley and affectionate after they scened together—Castiel loved it. But right then, every inch of his body that Dean was touching felt like an uncomfortable brand, the heat and the weight of him too much.

Castiel twisted, pulling his arm out from underneath Dean and pushing back the covers, hoping, praying, that Dean couldn’t hear the way his breathing had notched up and become uneven.

“Cas?” Dean mumbled, sleepy. “Y’okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Castiel said quickly, reaching out to smooth a hand over Dean’s shoulder beneath the bedding. “Sleep. I just need to use the bathroom.”

The lie felt wrong on his lips. Why, when all they’d done for months was lie? Why, when everything that had mattered was just false words?

Castiel wanted to snarl at himself for being so dang melodramatic, but it was all he could do to walk steadily to the bathroom and not let his steps falter. The door closing behind him was a precious gift, a couple of inches of wood that hid him and allowed his shoulders to slump, allowed his face to crumble, and didn’t expect him to lie.

Castiel pressed his bare shoulder blades back against the cool wood. He rested there for a moment as the carefully held nonchalance melted from his posture, and then allowed himself to slump downwards. He slid slowly down the door, pulling up his knees, one arm wrapping around his naked shins to pull them close while his other hand tried, feebly, to clamp his lips shut against the heaving breaths that had begun hissing through his teeth.

His face crumpled, and he was done; with no energy left to hold it in, all Castiel could do was reach over and quickly turn on the tap in the bathtub, flipping it over to the shower. Water thundered down, loud in the dark, empty room.

Maybe the sound could cover his shaking sobs. Maybe it could hide him for a little longer.

Cas had no idea how long he sat there in the dark. He lost track of time.

His cheeks were sticky with tears, his teeth hurt from grinding together, trying to bite back the sobs, and his shoulders ached from shaking. Slowly, slowly, as his breathing eased and he felt like he could actually begin to fill his lungs, Castiel let go of his knees, beginning the long, arduous, Everest-like climb back to his feet.

It seemed to take everything he had to stand back up, but regardless, he reached over and finally flicked on the light. The room was steamy from the shower running. Castiel leaned on the edge of the sink, reaching out the smear the mist from the glass so that he could see himself beyond. His hair was wild from being tugged at while he cried, and his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Castiel swiped angrily at his face; he looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help the tears.

He felt like an idiot.

One foot at a time, Castiel climbed into the shower, his feet squeaking on the bottom of the tub. The water was a little too hot, but he didn’t care. Maybe it would sear away the heavy feeling that was pulling him down.

Castiel stood for long minutes with his features turned up into the spray, letting it beat against his face, his eyes squeezed shut. His hands hung limply at his sides, his shoulders slumped, and he merely stood, breathing in the steam, his thoughts chasing him around his own head.

“About us,” Dean had said, and for a moment—one precious, light moment—Castiel had believed.

Believed that maybe Dean felt the same as he did.

Castiel leaned forward, pressing his damp forehead against the chill tile of the wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought. He’d let himself begin to think that Dean’s feelings were changing, recently.

Since their immigration interview, since they’d celebrated and kissed and made love in Castiel’s bed…he’d really thought that it all meant something. That now, maybe with the interview out of the way, that they’d grown closer, that they were making progress.

It turned out, that was all in Castiel’s head. Dean didn’t see this the way he did, clearly.

It was his own fault—he couldn’t be mad at Dean, you couldn’t be angry at someone for not loving you back. He was mad at himself, though. For letting this happen, for falling so far with no safety net below.

Grabbing blindly for his shower gel, Castiel squeezed a big dollop into his palm and began to robotically wash down his arms and chest. He tried to scrub away the ache in his chest, but he had no more luck with that than he did the much more physical ache in other parts of his body.

Letting out a sigh into the water, Castiel shook his head. That had just been one in a series of his dumb mistakes, it seemed.

Raking shampoo through his hair, Castiel told himself that the bubbles were stinging his eyes. It definitely wasn’t that he had an overwhelming urge to cry some more.

Every time he let himself think that he and Dean were on the precipice of something…he always fell down the cliff.

He wasn’t sure he could get back up, this time.

Of course, just the thought of leaving brought nothing but more aching in his stomach, more burning in his eyes, and more thumping of his heart against his ribcage.

I’m such a fool, he thought miserably.

Castiel focused on getting clean, washing away the salt of tears and the musk of sex, sluicing away the lube and the sweat that less than an hour before had felt so different. He’d been so happy.

He couldn’t remember when he’d fallen in love with Dean.

A full-blown crush had developed within days of meeting him, of course—Dean was gorgeous, and funny, and far more talented than he gave himself credit for. He was also kind, and generous—and yes, grumpy, and sarcastic, and stubborn, and hot-headed, and prone to being messy, and drinking too much when it suited him. But he had a fierce love for his family and friends, he was loyal and he was always putting others first…and that crush had exploded in a shower of butterflies before Castiel had known what hit him. He’d never stood a chance.

Loving Dean felt inevitable.

To be rejected, then, not only not to be loved back but to be constantly reminded of the fact by Dean’s own words…that was torture. It had been the stupidest thing he’d done—Castiel now knew—to give in to the physical connection between them both.

Oh, it was fantastic. Incredibly hot. They were almost ineffably compatible, sexually.

But it ripped Castiel’s heart out every time, and left it beating alone on the floor.

Castiel just couldn’t say no to Dean, in any way that mattered.

And now he was paying for it with his heartbreak. He knew he should leave. He knew that this, this feeling, this broken, desperate collapse on a bathroom floor that had led to him sobbing in the shower…this was no way to live. But…

But.

Sometimes…no, often. Castiel was sure, so sure, that he had it wrong.

The way Dean looked at him…the way Dean held him back. The way his forest green eyes softened every time Castiel came near him—Castiel could gaze at those eyes for hours. Dean’s eyes were the green of summertime, and they could revive Castiel’s dried up soul no matter how long his day had been.

He couldn’t be imagining all of that, could he?

Conscious that he’d been standing in the shower much longer than the average person should, Castiel reached out and wrapped his wrinkled fingers around the knob, turning off the water. Pulling back the curtain, he soon realized that in his pathetic state, he hadn’t checked if there were any towels.

So Castiel stood, shivering on the shaggy bath mat, dripping dolefully dry while he worked up the courage to head back to bed.

He didn’t have it.

So, eventually, Castiel rubbed his tired face and turned off the light. He’d grab some pants and head downstairs, stretch a little, meditate. Try and center himself and make sense of his head. Try to find reason, and work out if…if he was strong enough to keep putting himself through this, to keep waiting. Keep hoping.

There was no sleep for Castiel that night.

 ***

Yes, I popped that gif in there because it hurts me and sometimes pain should be shared.

Cling on to that happy ending, folks...it’s coming <3

Also, please don’t throw things at me. I have squishy parts.

- Mal <3

[ourloveandletters]

Sweet as Sugar (M)

Genre: smut, slight fluff at the end

Pairing: Virgin!Hansol x Virgin!Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend Hansol doesn’t seem interested in making a move to take your relationship a step further, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: Please always wear a condom! This story is only a fantasy, unprotected sex is not worth the health risk.

You had been dating your boyfriend Hansol for a while, and you felt happier than you could ever remember feeling. However, he had yet to make any move to take your relationship further. When the two of you talked about sex, he was extraordinarily sweet and let you know that he didn’t want to rush you, that he was alright with whatever you were comfortable doing. Yet, even when you made out with him he kept his hands firmly at his sides, unwilling to touch you. And, god, you needed him to touch you.

You had invited him over to your house for some movies and snacks that night, but instead of just chilling and snuggling with him, you were planning on finally asking him to have sex. You were nervous about it, sure, especially considering you had never done anything sexual with anyone before, but you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone.

Your doorbell rang, signaling Hansol’s arrival and jerking you out of your stupor as you daydreamed about the way his large hands would feel gripping your hips. You jumped up from the couch and ran to greet him, pulling him into a hug once you had the door open. Hansol chuckled and kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You pulled away from the hug and placed a kiss on his lips, reveling in the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he kissed you back sweetly.

By the time you started the first movie you could hardly concentrate. Hansol was snuggled up next to you, his arm around you and your head on his shoulder. You were keenly aware of how warm he felt, and all you could think about was feeling his bare skin against yours. You glanced up at him and studied his carved features, admiring his plump lips. Your heart beat faster as you imagined him kissing your neck and chest, leaving marks on your skin as though to claim you as his.

You resituated yourself and lightly pressed your lips to his neck, inhaling his sweet, musky scent. You planted another kiss on his neck, nipping his skin and sucking slightly. You could hear Hansol’s breath hitch as you ran your tongue along the small hickey you left, and your stomach flipped as you moved yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips. You placed your arms around his neck, leaning in and kissing him deeply. He kissed you back with fervor, his hands hovering right above your hips.

“Hansol,” you murmured into the kiss. “Touch me.”

He shakily rested his hands on your hips, pressing you further down into his lap. His growing bulge rubbed against you and your heart raced as you rubbed down onto him. He groaned softly and pulled away from the kiss, looking deeply into your eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, his voice almost muffled by the movie still playing in the background. “I thought you wanted to watch a movie?”

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. His fingers still rested against your hips, and you wanted nothing more than for him to take you and pound you into the couch right then and there.

“Honestly,” you took a deep breath. “I want to fuck you.”

His eyes widened and you could feel him harden even more beneath you. His grip tightened on your hips as he processed your words.

“Are you sure about this?” he finally asked. You nodded quickly and he smirked slightly, his hands moving up your sides and lifting the bottom of your shirt up.

You kissed him again and he kissed you back hungrily, lifting your shirt up. You detached so he could remove it completely and you unhooked your bra, letting it fall beside you. He gazed at your chest in admiration, bringing his hands up to gently cup your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, rubbing your nipples in slow circles with his thumbs. You could feel the blood rush to your face, your cheeks burning as he slid his hands down your stomach and around your waist to cup your lower back, his lips closing around one of your nipples. He sucked tentatively, and you could feel his tongue swirling along your skin.

You arched your back, giving him more access to your chest. A fire burned in your stomach as he left hickeys all over your chest. You tugged at his shirt, pouting until he took it off. His skin seemed to glow under the light of the television and you felt breathless as you took in how irresistible he looked underneath you. He was just as fit as you’d imagined him to be, and you were eager to see what else he was packing.

You cupped his chin in your hands and pulled him into another kiss, pressing your bare chest against his. His hands found your ass and he squeezed, causing you to gasp into the kiss. Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach and you pressed your pelvis into his again, whining softly. He groaned and lifted you up and off of him, setting you beside him on the couch.

Hansol wasted no time sliding your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. He slipped his pants off as well before kneeling down in front of you. Hansol guided your legs open, leaning down and placing kisses along your inner thighs. You could feel yourself getting wetter as his warm breath reached your cloth-covered pussy. He placed a tender kiss above the waistband, and then peppered kisses down along the front of your panties. You moaned softly and bit your lip, your body jerking a little when he slid his tongue along your covered slit.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, licking his lips. You let out another moan as he slid his firm tongue against you again. “Can I eat you out?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your stomach twisting at the thought of his tongue inside of you. You managed a shaky “yes,” lifting your hips so that he could remove your panties. When he finally uncovered your pussy, he bit his lip, his eyes hungrily taking in every inch of you.

He spread your pussy lips with his fingers slowly, reveling in the way your breathing got heavier and you let out a low moan, laying back further on the couch so you could observe him more easily. Hansol leaned down and licked you tentatively, letting out a heavy breath before he dragged his tongue along your slit, gathering up your juices and flicking your clit when he reached the top of your pussy. He groaned and gripped both of your thighs with his hands, pulling you closer to his face and hungrily licking long lines from the bottom to the top and then back down.

Your head went light and you moaned his name, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slid his tongue inside of you. He explored you thoroughly, sliding his tongue in and out quickly and pressing it hard into your inner walls. You could feel your orgasm approaching and you whined almost breathlessly. He moved up to your clit again, alternating between sucking it hard and flicking his tongue against it.

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your walls clenching around nothing as your body shook. Hansol lapped up all of your juices, grinning up at you when he finished.

“You’re so delicious,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. You blushed a bright red and he stood up, wiping his mouth and leaning down to kiss you. You could see his erection pressing against his boxers and he noticed you staring. Smirking, he slid them off so you could see his cock in its entirety.

Your breath hitched and you reached your arms out for him, pulling him with you as you lay yourself down on the couch. He got onto his knees, pulling you closer by your thighs and spreading your legs. Angling his cock at your entrance, he bit his lip and gazed at you for your consent. You nodded and braced yourself for him pushing inside of you. You let out a whimper as you felt him start to stretch your walls, the foreign feeling almost causing you to wince. Hansol let out a deep groan and pushed all the way in, waiting a few moments before moving his hips so you could adjust better to his thickness.

When you felt ready you nodded again and he pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in hard. You moaned as he began thrusting into you, his cock hitting all of the right places inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him down so you could kiss him. You could taste traces of your juices on his lips and your walls clenched around him as he hit a particularly good spot deep inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” he murmurs, panting as he quickens his movements.

You kiss his neck, dragging your fingers down his back and leaving scratch marks as he pounds into you. You feel euphoric, loving the way that he fits perfectly inside of you. His thrusts get increasingly sloppy as he gets closer to his high, and you try and intentionally clench your walls around him in hopes of edging him even closer. He cries out, calling your name as he pulls out of you and starts jerking himself off, shooting his cum all over your chest and stomach.

The feeling of his cum is hot but the air quickly turns it cold, causing you to shiver at the feeling. Hansol catches his breath, sitting back and admiring his work.

“You look so hot like this,” he says as he chuckles, his voice still slightly hoarse from arousal. You shake your head and sit up, trying not to let the cum spill over onto the couch cushions. Hansol lets out a laugh and helps you clean up, kissing you lightly on the forehead throughout.

He snuggles up beside you again once you’re clean, nuzzling into your neck and leaving kisses all over your cheeks.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, your heart feeling as light as a bird as you cuddle him. The end credits for the movie rolled across the screen, but you were too euphoric to care that you had missed the entire thing; the moment had been perfect, and you couldn’t have wished for a better person to give your virginity to.

[anigodd]

I’m Sorry, My Dears (Part 1/?)

Loosely inspired by posts from anons on @transvav page and other fics It had taken them months to realize that the Captain was not himself anymore. Then again, they never gave him credit for what a good liar he was. Or perhaps the better term here would be ‘actor’, wouldn’t it?

The Darkness had slowly corrupted Jordan when he had taken the first potion offered to him whereas the others had refused it. The presence of that potion whispered in Jordan’s ear at night, but was easily ignored by the Captain. He had noticed he’s been sleeping better, though chalks it up to exhaustion. There was also this new black cat that slept on his chest at night, which was comforting to him. The Darkness took the form of his goddess only to ignore him, her most loyal champion, to plant seeds of doubt into Jordan’s mind. To make him wonder if he wasn’t good enough, if he had done something wrong, if he was weak, if he had failed her. When the true Ianite came to visit the Captain, she felt something...off about him. He was cold to her, no longer willing to do whatever she said without asking questions, no longer devoted. He stopped giving her offerings in the Temple, and was less inclined to maintain balance in the world. The Captain convinced himself that he just needed a break from godly things and so stopped responding to requests from the gods. The more they asked, however, that exhaustion turned to annoyance, which turned to resentment. Was all he was just a pawn to the gods? A tool? A means to an end? The Captain was tired of being used. Lady Ianite felt the bond fraying. And being a young goddess, she allowed it to fray. She stopped visiting him. And this allowed the Darkness to take hold of the Captain. He accepted the gifts more readily, listened to the whispers in his ears about how the Darkness could give him so much and ease his heartache. He could make him stronger to protect his friends. Train him to never fail, if he agreed to become the Champion of Darkness. The Captain refused, but they both knew he didn’t truly mean it. The Ianitee began to spend more time alone, refusing to answer his friend’s calls to go on an adventure, share stories, or even just hang with each other. He became snappy, voicing how busy he was and how he couldn’t afford to be distracted, or how they were getting in his way of improving his house or his gear. At first, he had felt poorly about treating his friends in such a way, but his new cat always comforted him, assuring him that he had a right to act the way he was. He was always being walked over after all. They could wait for him to approach them. The Captain did not notice how his attitude and way of thinking had changed. His thoughts had become jumbled between logic and the Darkness’ influence over him. Jordan felt guilty over the way he had been treating his friends and knew they had done nothing to deserve his attitude. However, his mind always became clouded with malice and hatred towards his friends whenever they suggested a new adventure, and so he made excuses not to see them. He also felt remorse over being so cold to his Lady, but every time he asked to see her, he was overcome with anger at seeing her. Each time she had brushed him off, refused to comfort or acknowledge him, even gift him a new weapon surfaced to his mind, reminding him why he was fed up with the gods. So, refused to speak to her when she asked if he was alright. She never pressed for answers after he had called her ‘useless’ for the first time. His friends became suspicious that something had changed within their once kind friend. Tom began to notice something was not right with his best friend when Jordan had stopped laughing at his jokes. The first time it happened, the Captain snapped at him to “Bother somebody else, Tom, I’m busy.” It had shocked the Dianitee to hear such hatred from his friend but left him alone. Tom just assumed he just caught him on a bad day. The next time however, was much more hurtful. He had been setting up a simple prank, just moving his stuff around to force Jordan to find them. The Captain’s reaction, however, he did not expect. While Jordan would usually groan and yell Tom’s name in that infuriated tone that made Tom smile, he instead elytrad to Tom’s island and addressed him with a scarily calm voice. “Tom?” Jordan asked. The Dianitee, who had not even heard Jordan approach him, jumped and spun around to face Jordan. He noticed his eyes were a bit darker than normal but blamed in on the lighting. “Jordan! It’s so good to see ya buddy! What do ya need?” He said with a smile. When Jordan didn’t immediately answer, his smile faded. The Captain wore a blank expression, just staring at Tom with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He finally looked right into the zombie’s eyes, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Those eyes that were once blue were nearly black and brimming with hatred. The Ianitee spoke. “You know, Tom, you always want to make sure you’re not annoying me too much with these pranks of yours and I always say ‘of course you aren’t, you’re my friend!’ But you know what Tom, you’ve always been an annoying pain in my side since the day that I met you, and I regret saying that you weren’t a fucking nuisance when you are.” The Captain turned and left, not sparing a glance at the stunned expression on Tom’s face nor the tears filling his eyes as the man he once called a best friend walked away with no remorse. The zombie cried himself to sleep that night. He didn’t approach the Captain after that. Karl was shocked to hear what Jordan, the man who was never truly angry at anything Jordan, had said those things to Tom with no guilt and no apology afterwards. He did his best to comfort Tom and even offered to talk to the Captain himself, but Tom declined, saying that Jordan was dangerous when he was truly angry. Karl relented, but that didn’t stop him from going over to Jordan’s island a few days later to check on him. The caveman was nervous to talk to Jordan, which had never happened to him before, being scared of one of his friends, but his worry over the Captain pushed him forward into Jordan’s house. He found him on the top floor near the edge of the roof, cleaning a wickedly sharp sword that was the color of midnight and reflected no light. He inched forward but didn’t get too close. He blamed his hesitance on not wanting to startle the Captain into stabbing him. A black cat watched him from Jordan’s side. “Hey Cappy, are you doin alright? Heard you went off on Tom the other day. He’s real messed up about it, you know?” Karl said, and Jordan stopped cleaning and turned to face the caveman. His face was scarily blank but his eyes held hatred. “Tom got what was coming to him, Karl. He shouldn’t be so upset about it.” Jordan said it with such a flippant tone that it left Karl speechless. Since when had Jordan not cared about how other people felt? “Jord, mate, that’s pretty fucked, even on your standards. Are you sure you’re alright? We haven’t seen ya in ages.” Karl moved to put his hand on Jordan’s shoulder, but the Captain had always been faster than him, and Karl was on his back with the midnight sword pointed towards his neck, the tip nearly piercing his skin. The Captain stared down at him impassively, almost as if he were inspecting mud on his shoe. Karl was afraid to even swallow, thinking he would be killed by his own friend if he made one wrong move. He heard a purr next to his ear. “I like you Karl. I really do. But if someone asks me one more time if I’m alright, I might just kill someone for real. So please, for the last time, leave me alone.” Karl was terrified. The Captain’s blank expression had morphed into a sincere smile, but the caveman felt anything but comfort. Chills ran down his spine as the sword was removed. He scrambled to his feet and began backing away. “Yeah, sure Jord, whatever you need, I’ll be back at my place if ya want to talk.” Karl left quickly and told Tom about what happened. They were both shocked that Jordan had done these things to them, but were determined to help him through whatever it was that was troubling him. They had been through too much together to give up on him now. After Karl’s experience with the Captain, things got.... weird. Jordan apologized for his actions and explained that he had been under a lot of stress from the gods and the voices in his head lately, and had no outlet for his emotions, so took it out on them. The Ianitee seemed sincerely apologetic, and so his friends forgave him, and after a moment’s hesitation, gave the Captain a group hug. The three continued on their days as they had before this whole mess. They joked, they went on adventures, and told stories. The Captain’s new cat companion was always welcome on these trips as well. A god and goddess watched with sorrow from afar as their Captain pulled a shield of normalcy over his friend’s eyes. “We have to warn them eventually that the Captain has been corrupted by the Darkness, brother.” Ianite said as she watched the cat meow when Jordan kills yet another in this purge. There is a sinister smile on his face as he does. She feels sorrow over the way she had ignored her Champion, but didn’t know how to fix it. She had never had a follower as dedicated as him, and so felt it was best that he come to her, not the other way around. Ianite regrets ever thinking that way, and now the once sweet and devoted boy who would drop everything for her now follows a being of pure evil. All because they had pushed him too hard. She will never forgive herself. Dianite watches as his Captain falls further into cruelty, leaving behind almost no traces of the sweet and slightly naive, yet powerful man that has killed gods before. His heart breaks as he kills another, and he can’t help but remember the Captain’s sweet and gentle kisses in the mornings and soft caresses at night. His eyes narrow at the black cat sitting on the Captain’s chest. How dare the Darkness take away what he had worked so hard for? The amount of time it had taken him to convince the Captain that he deserved to be loved? The nights he had devoted to showing the Captain he was loved? The sweet dates that the Captain planned for him? The way ‘Dianite’ was spoken so fondly and the way ‘Jordan’ was spoken was such reverence? It had hurt him so deeply when the Captain stopped wanting to see him. Dianite thought perhaps he was regretting his decision to date him. Had he done something wrong? But when he began to act normal again with that strange cat on his shoulder, he knew that wasn’t the man he loved. And so, he stopped seeing Jordan, even if it felt like his heart was being ripped apart, he knew he would be hurt worse if Jordan had said he wanted to end things between them. Jordan was his everything, and he would be damned if he didn’t try to get him back. Dianite looked back at his sister and sighed. “I know, sister. They will not take it well and insist we are lying. but we must prepare for a fight.” The purge ended with the Captain as the winner with 45 kills. The cat purrs on the Captain’s chest as he sleeps that night. They never got to confront him the next day. That damned cat was the only thing waiting for them when they got to the Captain’s island.