#i made it set the day before valentines so now its like my valentines fic

[tennessoui]

wip wednesday but make it a short fic i wanna finish and post tonight

for fun you know (stressed) (based on this tumblr au)

“Excuse me, sir,” a man says, voice coming from beside his shoulder. Anakin keeps his eyes closed pointedly. If he just stays very quiet and very still, then maybe the man will go away. 

It doesn’t seem to work because a moment later, the man continues as if Anakin has given him any sort of indication that that’s an option. “Your shoes are untied.” 

Oh.

This again.

Anakin’s wrist, where the same words are written on his skin in dark blue soul ink, burns the way it always does when he hears that sentence. 

He can never tell if the ache is real or psychosomatic, if the lurch in his heart is a normal response to a half-connection—-a moment where someone speaks your words and you haven’t yet replied to either complete the match or prove it to be a coincidence—or if it’s just because Anakin’s a die-hard romantic and he always has been.

But today—today has been such a shit day. Today has been just such a shit day and he has no patience left for any well-meaning stranger, any lurches of his heart. He should have tied his damn shoes just to avoid this whole mess of an unwanted social interaction, but after nineteen years of having his laces untied, he’d just forgotten all about them as he closed up shop.

And now, this. 

When he opens his eyes and turns his head to face the stranger, he doesn’t actually think he’ll say anything but a very terse, thank you. Or I know. 

And then he sees the other man, an older guy with a well-groomed, perfectly trimmed beard, holding a jaunty umbrella that’s keeping the rain off of an impeccable looking fucking pea-coat in one hand and a dog’s leash in the other. The corgi at the end of the leash has on a fucking yellow raincoat, same shade as the umbrella, and when Anakin looks back at his face, the man raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly having just given him the same sort of once-over he’s given the man and been struck deeply unimpressed.

“Mind your own fucking business, you fucking asshole,” Anakin snarls, stuffing his hands in his pockets and swinging back around to glare out at the busy street. The cars still have not slowed, the crosswalk light staying a faithful red.

The man beside him is silent for a moment, two. He’s probably never had anyone speak to him like that in his entire life, Anakin thinks derisively. Fucking uppercrust accent. Fucker puts a dog in a raincoat, he should be called an asshole more often, he’s obviously a fucking dick—

“Well, that’s no way to speak to a stranger,” the man says primly, and Anakin’s body feels electric because he’s had a shit day and he’s not about to stand here on this cold, dirty street corner and be lectured by a man who puts raincoats on his dog.

He whips his head around, mouth already pulled back in an animalistic snarl, and the man pulls his hand out of his coat pocket and shakes the sleeves back. Where a normal rich snob may have a heavy watch, this man’s wrist is empty—save for the tail end of the word asshole.

“Or to your soulmate,” the man adds.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Cheated - Tom Riddle x Reader- Oneshot

Very late valentines day fic-enjoy! also attempting to write here on tumblr instead of on my word doc-lets see if that helps

"warning"; smut. i havent written it in a minute so sorry if its bad

=

Tom Riddle sits on the steps that lead into Hogwarts castle, a pile of roses at his feet, meant for his girlfriend of two years.

But she never arrived for their date at the new restaurant in Hogsmeade. He had given her time, and allowed her some grace just in case she was running late or getting ready with her friends, since it was their anniversary, and Valentines day, and girls got excited about that thing.

But then 10 minutes turned to 30…then an hour, then two. Then he had to leave the restaurant since he was sitting alone for a two-person reservation and they couldn’t hold his table forever. He’d felt so stupid walking back from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, wondering what the hell had made his girlfriend get so caught up that she was more than two hours late to their anniversary date!

And then he saw it, heard it first, her giggling with another boy, the two standing too close under an archway. He felt sick to his stomach-really? Really???

Then they kissed and he turned away, going the long way around to get back into the castle.

Two years. Two fucking years he spent on this girl, he had opened up, let her in, went against what he had taught himself to be for her and she fucking cheated on him.

That’s how he ended up here on the steps of the main courtyard, he didn’t want to see that bitch again for a while.

“You too eh?” Tom looked up at the sudden voice, seeing a fellow Hogwarts student standing in front of him, looking dressed for a date-much like he was-but also very disappointed and tired. He blinked at her, he had the same look In her eyes that he felt in his chest, betrayal.

“Got cheated on?” Tom asked dryly and the girl nodded, moving to sit next to him and sulk on the steps, kicking off her heels. The two sit there in awkward silence as the late winter breeze flows between them, the sun is already beginning to set and with it the night chill sets in.

The girl eventually hands her box of chocolates meant for her shitty boyfriend to Tom and he stares at them for a long moment, glancing at the girl. "Happy shitty valentines Day," she mutters and he takes the chocolates, hesitating for a moment before picking up the roses at his feet and handing them to her.

"Happy shitty valentines day," he says back quietly and she smiles sadly as she takes the roses he had picked out for his, now soon to be ex, girlfriend. The two sit there for a few minutes longer and the sun sets quickly, Tom gets to his feet and so does the girl, who has yet to introduce herself but Tom didn't feel like socializing right now, and it seems she didn't either.

But they walked back into the castle together anyway, her holding the roses meant for Lilith-his soon to be ex-and him holding the chocolates meant for her, soon to be ex, boyfriend. The halls were filled with happy couples, there were a few others that looked brokenhearted or were single and happy, but the sight simply made Tom's sadness turn to white-hot rage, his fist clenching at his side, the box of chocolates in his hand crumpling a bit as he and the girl walked down the hall.

They hadn't meant to, but they had walked side by side all the way back to the Slytherin common room-as they were both of that house. "Pureblood." Tom snapped out and the door opened and he stepped inside, beelining it to his room, not even saying goodbye to the girl as she went over to her friends, who went straight to comforting her as they saw her expression.

Tom slammed the door of his dorm room closed, ripping off his tie and blazer, breathing through his teeth as he thought back to the time he had foolishly waited for Lilith to arrive at their date, sitting there alone with roses at a table for two, pathetically waiting and waiting as looks of pity came from the restaurant staff.

He was so humiliated, two years, two fucking years. all to be wasted by the girl he had let himself open up to. He felt humiliated, betrayed, and angry. He wanted to break something-he really did. Lilith had been his first girlfriend, she had been determined and stubborn to try and be his girl and eventually, he let her in, having been impressed by her determination.

And now? Now she had just-cheated on him, for who knows how long?!

He let out an angry yell and threw his pillow across the room, pacing around as he pressed his palms to his eyes, rage building in his chest the longer he thought about the last two years. How much of it was a lie? How long had she been tricking him?? Him! Tom Marvolo Riddle! he was the heir of Slytherin, he prided himself on his control and ability to pick out lies from other people and manipulate them into revealing their true selves.

He had let his guard down with Lilith, and now he paid the price-he had gotten hurt and he wanted to hurt her back. He wanted to rip out her heart and crush it before her eyes, get revenge on the bitch who got him to trust her, and then crushed that trust to pieces.

He stews in his anger as he changes out of the stupid suit he had worn for the stupid date, he skips dinner that night, thinking of ways to get his revenge on Lilith-he would make her hurt, hurt just as much as she hurt him-make her feel used and pathetic like he felt now.

Oh yes. Lilith would regret cheating on him, there was no doubt about that.

-

He stared her down the next day as she walked up to him while he sat at the Slytherin table at breakfast, his eyes cold while he looked upon his sheepish soon be ex-girlfriend. "I’m soooo sorry Tom," she began, and Tom let her make a fool of herself in front of him as she attempted to apologize for 'forgetting' about their date. "My friend's boyfriend stood her up on their date and I just couldn't leave her, i totally forgot about our anniversary date last night and I’m soooo sorry darling,"

Tom clicked his jaw, staring daggers into Lilith who attempted to smooth her way back into the spot beside him but he stood up, glaring down at her-almost baring his teeth. "How fucking dare you?" he hissed out, Lilith going wide-eyed as he cursed at her, usually he talked formally so to hear him curse was surprising. "How dare you lie to me, for who knows how long?!"

This caught the attention of everyone in the great hall, all watching the fight unfolding between Tom Riddle-the boy who held the heart of almost every girl in Hogwarts, and Lilith Castee-the girl who was the envy of Tom's fangirls, since she had 'won' him; but it seemed now she had lost him.

"Tom," Lilith chuckled out nervously, holding up her hands as she stood up again to face him. "what-what are you talking about?" Tom screwed his face into a snarl, his eyes burning with rage.

"What's his name eh?? Who was so damn important that you cheated on me!? On our two-year anniversary!!?" the whole hall gasped in shock-she cheated on him?! what??? Who the hell would cheat on Tom freaking Riddle!? The hottest guy in school???

Lilith stumbled for her words, her eyes flickering about as she felt everyone's gaze on her now. "i-i-i don't-i don't know what you're talking about darling-" Tom clicked his jaw, shaking his head, slamming his fist on the table.

"Don't lie to me! I saw you! last night! you left me sitting at that bloody restaurant for hours and when I came back-i see you making out with some guy! " Tom yells, his face starting to burn with anger, looking down at the girl he wasted two years on, who looked so humiliated and pathetic as she cowered before him, everyone watching the confrontation unfold.

Lilith stutters and he huffs down at her, hissing through his teeth. "I can't believe I actually trusted you, what a fucking mistake." he hisses out and pushes past her, Lilith chasing after him as the great hall burst into gossip.

-

Word that Tom Riddle was single again spread like wildfire, many of his fangirls prettying themselves up to be his rebound and possible new girlfriend, but that was the last thing on his mind. He was angry, humiliated, upset, and most of all; betrayed.

Getting a new girlfriend was easily the last thing he wanted right now, the wound of Lilith's betrayal too fresh on his heart and mind, there was no way he could even think of another girl right now, it had taken a year for Lilith to gain his trust enough to try and date her, and now that trust was shattered.

If someone could spend so much time gaining his trust only to break it-how could he trust any other girl to not to the same??

He ignored every love note he got and every box of chocolate he got in the daily mail; he threw them out-the only box of chocolates he had accepted had been from the girl from before, which he had eaten already-they were good chocolates.

Lilith keeps attempting to get back into his good graces but he refuses to let her back in, and no amount of blubbering or bullshit apologies will make up for it. 'i was drunk!' yeah fucking right. 'he slipped me a love potion!' Tom could smell that lie coming from a mile away. 'it was mistake.' damn right, but like hell he was going to accept that as any sort of apology.

She had broken his trust in her, and she would never have it again.

-

For all of Lilith's blubbering, it doesn't stop her from continuing to snog that boy she had cheated on him with, and when he sees them together; he’s angry. Jealous? No. pissed? Yes. it's at that same time he learns that the boy, had also been that girl's ex-BF that cheated on her.

The girl's name is (y/n), and he finds that important because they will get revenge on their exes together. He crafts a plan when he overhears the boy complaining about his ex, (y/n), about how she's upset that he cheated but it was 'her fault' because she never 'put out' and 'a man has needs!'

Tom has never wanted to call someone a mother fucking bitch more than at that moment.

But he has a feeling (y/n) is feeling just as angry as he is, and what better way to get back at their cheating exes... than to start dating each other while their exes whine and beg? it's a cruel plan, and he knows he's pretty much just using (y/n) to make Lilith squirm but hey, in his mind; she's also getting something out of his plan-dating him and making her ex jealous.

He goes up to (y/n) one day during study period, sliding into the seat next to her, eyes automatically going to the two as Tom Riddle, once again Hogwarts hottest bachelor, sits next to (y/n). she looked up at him from her book and note parchment, raising her brow.

"I have a plan," Tom began, not bothering to introduce himself-she knew who he was. (y/n) blinked at him and slowly sat up straight, giving him her full attention. "I was thinking, our exes cheated on us with each other, yes?" (y/n) nodded, a flicker of anger in her eyes and Tom smirked, yes-that was what he was looking for. "how would you like to get some, petty revenge?"

Now he had her full attention. hook, line, and sinker.

(y/n) agrees to, well, start dating him to have some petty revenge on their exes, and Tom revels in the look of jealousy on their faces when they go to dinner that night and sit together, (y/n) now in the spot where Lilith once sat, tucked neatly into Tom's side with his arm around her; resting on her hip.

Tom hides his petty smirk behind his goblet and (y/n) can't help but grin as her ex seethes at the sight of her in Tom Riddle's arms. Tom was easily a 10, while her ex Trevor was barely a 7, and now she was quite glad she never let him 'hit it' as the boys said.

Tom sells the bit of a charming boyfriend, walking her to and from classes and kissing her hand when he had to leave her side to go to his own class or do head boy duties. It was all very nice, even If (y/n) knew this was just as revenge for their cheating exes, it was...well nice to have a boyfriend who actually was a boyfriend, even if he was pretty emotionally reserved.

Trevor, her ex, was never...good at the boyfriend thing. Now, weeks after the fact, she didn't even know why she started dating him, he had ignored her half the time and complained every time she wouldn't let him have sex with her, something inside her had told her not to let him touch her that way and it seemed her warning signs had all been right-since he, instead of waiting for her like a good boyfriend, decided to just cheat on her with another, with Tom Riddles girlfriend nonetheless.

Honestly, how Tom just straight up hadn't cursed them to high heaven was a mystery, because she knew she wanted to.

Meanwhile, while (y/n) knew(thought) this was all just a revenge plan and her dating Tom Riddle would most likely end at some point, Tom was feeling...otherwise.

(y/n) was cute, adorable even, sexy too, he found himself staring at her a lot once they started petty dating, his eyes drawn to her hair as it curled over her ear, or to her thighs as she would sit on the couch and it would ride up on her thighs. He found it easy to listen to her, her voice was very nice, and she always had interesting things to say. and she listened to him, even when it seemed like she wasn't, she remembered things about him that he offhandedly mentioned once-like how he liked lemon bars, and then made him some a few days later.

"How'd you know?" Tom asked, bewildered, not even remembering he had mentioned he liked them. (y/n) just shrugged. "You said you liked them." She had said with a smile before going back to her potions essay. She also remembered other things, even when he didn't mention them-like how he liked his books in a certain order and she had helped him pack his bag while in a rush and he realized she had packed it in the particular way he liked; or how he didn't like the school supplied ink and got him a fresh inkwell of premium ink from the Hogsmeade store one weekend after he had offhandedly mentioned how he didn't like the school supplied ink after having to use it one day in class.

She noticed things about him, and remembered them...Lilith had never done that.

He was getting confused, he had done this for revenge on his cheating ex-he knew that, but...was he...starting to like (y/n)?

He thinks he was. She was nice but not in a pushover way, she was sweet but not in an overwhelming way, she was funny but knew when to be serious, she was pretty(beautiful actually) but didn't flaunt it, affectionate but didn't demand it 24/7.

He stared at her while they sat across from each other during a study period, watching her fiddle with her quill and tap the tip against her notebook, his eyes drawing to her lip as she nibbled at it in thought.

"Fuck." Tom muttered to himself, feeling the heart he had locked up upon learning of Lilith's betrayal try to burst out of its cage. His chest filled with warmth and his face began to warm with blush as he just watched (y/n) do her school work, and that was strangely so attractive.

Maybe more would come out of this petty revenge than making Lilith and Trevor jealous.

-

(y/n) flipped the page of her book as she sat on the couch, her back against Tom's side as his arm lay back on the couch, his fingers grazing her hair every few seconds, which (y/n) had gotten used to after the first few times and had relaxed into the feeling, it was quite nice. Tom gazed down at her even as he talked to his friends, who either talked about the recent Hogwarts gossip or about some sort of snooty party coming up that they had to go to because their pureblood parents were making them.

His gaze was torn away from (y/n) as his friends go almost silent, one making an 'oooh' sound as he sees Lilith walking up to him, her face set into a pathetic pout, her hands tugging at her skirt as she comes to a stop next to the couch. "Tommy," Lilith starts but Tom glares at her.

"Do not call me that." he hisses out and his friends chuckle and make faces at Lilith behind her back as Tom's hand goes down to (y/n)'s shoulder and he squeezes it, feeling himself calm just a little bit as (y/n) shuffled against his side.

Lilith clears her throat awkwardly, shuffling on her feet. "Tom, I just-wanted to apologize, i did something stupid and it was a great mistake, i regret what I did to you every day and I hope-i hope you could give me another chance." Tom stares at her, his jaw clicking. he stands, his hand drawing from (y/n)'s shoulder to rest on the other.

"Another chance?" Tom asks quietly, staring into Lilith's soul like she was the devil. Lilith nods, smiling weakly. "I love you Tom, I was foolish to forget that for some silly one-night stand." Lilith says, attempting to step closer but Tom glares and she steps back.

"One night stand? You love me? Merlin, you must be even stupider than I thought-if you loved me, you never would've even thought about another man, if you loved me, you never would've stood me up on our two-year anniversary, you would've never cheated on me, with another girl's boyfriend nonetheless." Tom hisses out, gesturing back to (y/n) who seemed she would rather be left out of the conversation but Tom was making a point.

"And one night stand???" Tom continues, seething. "Please. I see you two still snogging in the damn hallways when I try to do my head boy duties, you still sit with each other during meals, you practically fuck in plain sight! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think me to be foolish enough to let myself fall for another one of your lies?!" Tom hisses out, clenching his fist at his side as everyone else in the room stares at the confrontation between the two exes.

Lilith opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water and Tom hisses through his teeth. "Hell will freeze over the day I even think about forgiving you, let alone give you another chance. Besides, I have someone else now, and she's far better than you ever were." Tom says, gesturing back to (y/n) again and she blushes, hiding behind her book. Lilith glares at him and (y/n) and she runs off, humiliated once again as whispers begin to echo in the room.

Tom huffs and sits back down, glaring at his lap as (y/n) peeks at him over her book. With one look to the other surrounding them, they're left alone to talk, as Tom could tell that (y/n) wanted to talk. "soooo," she started, closing her book and setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch-looking back at Tom.

He looks back at her, his shoulders relaxing a bit as she shifts to face him, sitting back on her heels. "We got together to get revenge on them, right?" (y/n) asks and Tom slowly nods. (y/n) thinks about what she wants to say and how she should say it. It had been about three months now since they had gotten together to get petty revenge on their exes, now that Tom had spoken his mind to Lilith; and a few days earlier she had cursed off Trevor for trying to get her back with weak apologies and candies she didn't even like, did they need to keep up the act?

"Yes, but-" Tom speaks before she can speak her mind and she sees him shift in his seat, looking awkward-Tom Riddle never looked awkward. he was always confident, always sure of himself. Seeing him unsure of himself was...odd. "I...I'm not good at feelings, I'm sure you've figured that out by now." (y/n) nods, tilting her head at Tom. "Lilith pursued me for a whole year before I began to date her, and even after all that, she still cheated on me, and I wanted revenge on her. You were the perfect one to get that revenge with because she cheated on me with your ex." (y/n) nods again, wondering where this is going.

Tom sighs, running his hand through his hair, messing it up a bit. "I...At first, this thing between us was just to get back at them, as I'm sure it has been for you." (y/n) slowly nods, narrowing her eyes as her heart begins to beat faster in her chest, butterflies in her chest-was he...doing what she thought he was doing? Tom huffs, his leg starting to bounce as he looked at her, but avoided her gaze. "But-these last three months I've...I never felt...this way with Lilith, she...she didn't listen to me, not really, looking back I don't know why I stayed with her-first girlfriend attachment I suppose."

(y/n) is red in the face now, 'felt this way'....What did he mean by that?!

Tom bites the inside of his lip, making eye contact with her now, his pupils dilating as he looks at her. "I don't know how, or why but you...you've stolen me, heart and soul, in only three months, you listen to me, you make me...feel-and I don't know how to handle it, you've accomplished what Lilith tried to do in two years in less than three months and...i don't know if you want to continue this relationship, but...I do. I want to be with you, for real, and not just to get back at our exes." Tom confesses, looking away from her once more, anxiously picking at his thumb as (y/n) stares at him in shock, her jaw drops open as she blinks rapidly.

He...he likes her...he actually really liked her-he wanted to continue their relationship, he wanted them to be together for real, with no ulterior motive.

She had utterly no idea what to say-no idea what to tell him-so she settled for not saying anything and instead grabbing his tie and pulling him into a kiss.

Because she felt the same way.

Tom let out a sound of surprise before he grabbed her face and kissed her back, shifting his leg so he was leaning over her, moving his lips against hers in an almost desperate passion. (y/n) melted as he kissed her, his lips warm, soft, and hungry, like he had been starved for proper, real, affection.

She's being pushed down onto the couch with him above her, his hands still on her face, tangling in her hair as his body hovers above her, his knee between her legs as he climbs on top of her. Her breath hitches as their mouths open and his tongue presses against hers and almost goes into her mouth, her hands clutching his shoulders as he makes a groaning sound that sends shivers down her spine.

"What the fuck?!" Tom pops up at the sudden voice, practically baring his teeth at Lilith and Trevor as they had returned for one reason or another, Trevor looking utterly miffed to see his ex snogging Lilith's ex.

"So you'll never let me even touch you after a whole year but three months and you'll let him stick his tongue down your throat?!" Trevor practically yells at (y/n) and she glares back, her lips starting to swell from Tom's kiss.

Tom doesn't give either of them a chance to talk further as he scoops (y/n) up and carries her to his private dorm room(perks of being head boy). "Honestly I don't know why I even dated him," (y/n) says into his shoulder as he kicks his door closed and then tosses (y/n) on her bed, smirking as she squeals at the sudden action.

"first boyfriend attachment?" Tom guessed, as that was likely why he stayed with Lilith even though, now, he was pretty sure he never actually liked her. (y/n) tilted her head in thought then nodded.

"I...yeah I mean, he was the first guy to ask me out and I wanted to give it a chance, never left because... I dunno, thought no one else would want to," (y/n) mumbled, Tom stepping closer to her and then claiming on top of her again, kissing her deeply. 'guess I was wrong' (y/n) thought, kissing Tom back and pushing her head into the kiss as his hands grabbed her sides as he hovered over her.

Heat rises between them, their tongues push together and his hands are in her hair again, his palms on her cheeks as she grips at his neck and shoulders, her legs rising to slowly wrap around his hips.

She and Trevor had never gone this far, hell she had maybe only kissed him a few times, she supposed that meant she never actually liked him because she was really enjoying this with Tom, she liked kissing him, and she loved the heat growing between them.

Tom felt the same way, for his whole 2 years with Lilith he almost thought he was broken because he never really felt anything towards his ex, even when she tried to initiate things between them, but here, on his bed, kissing (y/n), he feels the heat and the passion and the want for her and he's not broken-he just needed to find the right girl.

"Too fast?" Tom breathes against her cheek as he pulls away from the kiss to press his lips to her jaw and go lower. (y/n) shakes her head, tugging at his robe and he takes his hands off her face to shrug it off. "Not at all," (y/n) whispers back and he chuckles against her chin as he kisses down to her neck.

(y/n) lets out a shuddering breath as his hands find her hips again and his thumb rubs into her sides, his lips on her neck-her breath coming out in short pants as he licks at her skin; she lets out a quiet sound that makes Tom lick her neck again and she can feel the smirk on his lips as he peppers sensual kisses all along her neck.

She gasps out his name as he finds her sweet spot, which she didn't know she had, and begins to nibble at it, leaving a red mark on her once unblemished skin. "I've never..." (y/n) starts but Tom just kisses her again, looking into his eyes-his pupils blown wide with lust.

"Neither have I," he whispers back and she kisses him, pulling him down by his neck as his hands go down to her skirt and unbuttons it before tugging it off, his belt following and then soon the rest of their clothes follow suit.

She gazes at his body and her body shudders with want, her face flushed with heat as she looks upon his pale and lean body, he certainly wasn't a quidditch player but he wasn't skinny either, he looked just right. he admired her body just the same, his eyes gazing over her breasts, her tummy pouch, her thighs, and hip dips; his mouth watering for a taste of her untouched skin.

(y/n) gasps as his mouth descends on her skin, licking at her breasts and nipples, catching one on his tongue and drawing the nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, and (y/n) sighs out his name, pushing her chest towards his mouth as his hands travel across the rest of her body, her hands practically glued to his shoulders to ground herself as she felt his tongue on her breasts-which she hadn't known were sensitive till now.

"Fuck-" Tom curses under his breath as his hand dips between her thighs and feels her pussy, her arousal quickly coating his fingers as he felt her clit, his fingers dipping into her entrance which has her gasping and grabbing his wrist as his finger pumps into her cunt, watching as her face twists in pleasure and her breath caught in her chest.

"Tom," she breathes out and he kisses her again, his other hand on her neck and then trailing down to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh, thumbing her pert nipple as he fights the groan in his throat.

She wraps her hands around the back of his head as she pants and moans into the kiss, her face burning with heat as his fingers push in and out of her pussy, the slick sound of it making her face burn even more.

Tom watches it all with a dark gaze, his mouth slightly open as he watches every reaction, listens to each sound she makes, his cock hard as it aches to be inside her. "Fuck," he groaned again, pulling his fingers out and slicking his cock up with her arousal that was on his fingers and palm, pressing the red-tipped head of his cock to her pussy, holding her hand above her head as he leans over her. "might hurt," he whispers out, having done his research on sex after all, and guides his cock into (y/n)'s virgin pussy.

Tears burn in her eyes for a moment as she feels the head of his cock enter her, pushing past her entrance-a strong pinching feeling coming from below her navel as Tom takes her virginity, and she takes his. He eases into her, taking deep breathes as shivers run up his spine; (y/n)'s tight, wet, and hot, surrounding his cock which makes him want to fuck her into the mattress-but he eases in, soon flush against her pelvis and he waits, clutching her hip and her hand tightly as his bangs hang in his eyes.

"Fuck." he groans, his mouth open as he pants.

(y/n) whines and moves her hips against his, his cock sliding in and out just enough to snap Tom's control and he begins to thrust, groaning as (y/n) writhes under him, her legs hooking around his hips and her free hand grabbing at his neck, moaning out his name loudly as his hips smacked against her thighs-his cock fucking deep inside her.

"Tom!" she cried out and Tom groaned out her name in turn, his vision blurry from pleasure as he leaned back and gripped her hips, fucking into her rough and quick as her back arched, almost screaming out his name as she twisted the sheets in her fists-her body spasaming as she came, Tom following suit a few moments later, gasping as he came inside her, his hips stuttering at the feeling before he practically collapsed on top of her.

They breathed heavily before Tom spoke weakly in her ear. "I get why everyone's obsessed with sex now," he grumbled and (y/n) giggled, feeling him smile against her cheek as he rolled them over, her now laying on his chest.

-

(y/n) hides her smile into Tom's shoulder when Trevor practically blows a fuse when he sees the marks on her neck at dinner, along with the fact that the two of them very much look like they had sex, hair still a bit messy and their eyes glinting with that satisfaction.

Tom sneers a fake smile at Lilith and kisses (y/n)'s forehead as she giggles against him.

-end-

I ACTUALLY FINISHED WRITING SOMETHING AHHH

[talkfastwalkfaster]

Serenity ~ Ben Kenobi x Reader

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

A/N: this is set about 5 years after rots. reader is about 27 & obi-wan is 43. i was going to make a valentine anakin fic but that plan moved so enjoy my other love, hermit obi-wan. this is my first time writing smut so it might not be the best. also, if you have any feedback, it's welcomed & appreciated :)♡ WC: 3,041 Warnings: MDNI, smut, some angst

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

Tatooine was known for its extremely warm temperatures, but today was worse than ever. Ben was drenched in sweat the entire day, making him wish they could afford a cooling system to install within their home. 

He noticed you never seemed to sweat as extensively as he did. He assumed it was because you were a native of the planet. 

“(y/n), are you certain that our animals will survive this weather?" Ben called out from the entrance of your home. His thoughts were consumed by his trusted stead, Eopie may have been able to sustain this weather in previous times, but that didn't ease his worries.

Ben headed into your house and over to the kitchen where you had been for the past few minutes. 

He rested his hand on your lower back and peered over your shoulder to watch you chop up some vegetables for dinner. If he was honest, he was a little envious that this heat was seemingly not affecting you as it was him.

Your mouth formed into a small smile as you continued cutting vegetables, “I’m certain, Ben, they’ve survived hotter weather than this before. They’ll be fine.”

He exhaled, his shoulders deflating as he continued to gaze at you. He knew his worries were futile, yet his concerns wouldn’t falter. “I know, I know. I just can’t help but worry for them.” 

This was his life now, he had accepted becoming a farmer ages ago, but there was still a lot more that he would have to come to terms with; he was still haunted by memories of the war, watching Anakin fall to the dark side, watching Qui-Gon die, watching Satine die, watching his beloved Commander and battalion turn against him in the blink of an eye…

He rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to shake the weight that always seemed to be weighing him down. “I suppose it’s just the heat getting on my nerves. It feels as though the heat of a hundred suns is shining down. I don’t know how you’re acting all nonchalant, I feel like I might as well be burning and yet you’ve barely broken a sweat.”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at him, “Well I have lived here all my life, I’m used to the heat.” The truth was that the heat always did manage to bother you a little, but you had grown up in the scalding temperatures, you were, unfortunately, accustomed to them. It made no sense for you to complain about it. 

“I don’t know how you do it if it’s not the heat that’s unbearable, it’s the awful sandstorms that are always passing through here,” Ben complained. Despite having lived on Tatooine for a while now, it seemed as though no matter what he did, he could never get used to the heat. His mind digressed toward Anakin and his hatred toward this planet, and he finally seemed to understand his point of view. But Ben quickly pushed that thought away as his heart ached each time his mind brought up his former student. 

He was brought out of his trance by the sound of your voice. “You’ll get used to them. Sure, they might not be ideal but Tatooine isn’t as bad as it could be. I mean the war never came here and the Empire has little interest in this planet. The weather may not be perfect and there are always things that could be improved here, but i can’t think of living anywhere else,” You mused. You knew that Ben got stuck in his head easily and you’ve known him long enough to see the signs of it. 

His brow always started to furrow and he stroked his beard, seemingly without even realizing it. You’ve figured out that the best way to bring him back to the present was to talk about where you are. Even though you’re not necessarily fond of praising Tatooine, he needs it, and that’s all that matters to you. 

“I wish I had as much patience as you do, my dear,” he sighed, taking in another deep breath. 

It all seemed so normal, this was a conversation that any couple could have. To any outsiders, you two would be seen as a regular husband and wife, like any other married couple in the galaxy. Ben was slowly starting to feel content with his life here, he could almost forget everything that happened five years prior. He could almost pretend that he did not come to Tatooine because of his failure, that he didn’t have to go into hiding, and that his life didn’t completely spiral because of one order.

Your face softened, knowing how difficult it’s been for Ben. It always seemed as though he was unable to completely move forward, despite his best attempts, because of whatever happened in his past. “Well, you've only been here what, 5 years? You have to give yourself time to adjust, sweetheart."

A faint smile stretched across his lips when you called him ‘sweetheart’. It was the most endearing pet name you had ever given him and he felt a warmness throughout his chest whenever you used it. It made him feel normal, he didn’t have to worry about his former life as Jedi Master and General Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore, he could just be Ben, your husband.

He chuckled softly, watching as you began to cook the vegetables before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “I know, darling, I know…” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and sighed, breathing in the scent of you, something that always relaxed him.

As you cooked, your mind briefly wandered to Coruscant, Ben had once mentioned that he was born and lived most of his life there. You wondered if the planet was anything similar to Tatooine or if it was the complete opposite. You had always wanted to ask him more about his past, what he was like before you met him 3 years ago, and yet, for some reason, you could never bring yourself to give in to those desires.

However, as the two of you stood in the kitchen, you believed that now would be a better time than any to ask him, seeing as this was the first time in a while that he was truly beginning to relax. You hummed softly, attempting to keep the peaceful environment that had been created, “You said you were from Coruscant right? Is it very different from here?”

Ben stiffened slightly from his position behind you before forcing himself to relax, he knew you had no ill intent with your question. If this was any other time, he would have avoided your prodding, but for once, he decided to indulge you, even if only slightly. “It’s very different from here, my dear.” he held you tighter and kept his head resting in the crook of your neck, your familiar scent had always given him a sense of peace and calmness, something which he craved, wishing he could forever be engulfed in it.

“Coruscant makes Tatooine look like a ghost town. It’s full of large buildings and many different levels. You could always hear the buzzing of speeders and people clamoring to numerous places,” Ben paused for a second, wondering how much more he should tell you, before ultimately deciding it’s best to keep it brief, “Let’s just say there was never a dull moment there, my love.”

You decided to push your luck, desperately wanting to know more about your husband. You murmured, as if trying not to startle Ben with your next question, “Do you ever miss it?”

His heart immediately constricted at the thought, though he quickly dismissed it. There was no reason for him to start dwelling on what-ifs, this was his life now, and there was no changing the past. “My life there? No, not at all,” he replied quickly, the lie coming out easy. 

This has become a type of dance for him, every once in a while you would try to inquire about his past and he would always find ways to avoid giving too much detail. He would only ever respond vaguely enough to not make you suspicious while also satisfying your curiosity. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you what his past life actually entailed, it was still too raw, too painful. He didn’t want you to worry either. He knew that he couldn’t hide who he once was from you forever, but he couldn’t tell you today, not now. 

Ben rested his chin on your shoulder and muttered “I wouldn’t want to go back.” A half-truth, he’s not as fond of the planet as he used to be, but it still holds some sentimental value to him. It’s not that he would never want to go back to Coruscant, it’s that he can’t. If he ever tried he knew the Empire would be on him as soon as he was even remotely close to the planet’s atmosphere. 

You finished cooking the vegetables and raised your eyebrows slightly surprised, not expecting that answer from him. “Never?” you inquired, feeling slightly bewildered. “You’d really never want to go back? Was it that bad?”

Ben held you tighter and exhaled, that part of him died years ago. To him, Obi-Wan died the moment he left Anakin to die on Mustafar — he had been, in a way, reborn as Ben. He was just Ben Kenobi, a simple farmer, and your husband. Nothing more, nothing less. “It was fine, nothing particularly interesting happened to me when I lived there,” he lied again, giving you a soft kiss on the side of your neck hoping that this topic of discussion would die out soon.

You sighed at his words and murmured, “Dinner’s ready.” You decided to let the topic drop, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling you the truth, but you hoped that one day he would trust you enough to let you completely in. 

The two of you ate dinner in silence, both of you seemingly lost in your thoughts. Ben had intrigued you from the start. You had met him at a market in Mos Espa, and he immediately stood out to you. From the way that he held himself to the way he talked. He looked like someone who had seen the galaxy, who had actually experienced life, something you had always wished to do but never had the luxury. His eyes — his beautiful, entrancing sapphire grey eyes that were like pools of sorrow. They showed a variety of complex emotions, something that made you want nothing more than to break down his highly built-walls and see who he truly was. 

Ben was never one to speak much while eating, he felt there was no need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter — he wanted to just enjoy being with you, you were everything to him. 

He had never thought that he would be able to have this, that he’d be able to feel happy again. For the first two years that he had lived on Tatooine, he had expected that he would be alone forever, that he had deserved to live a life of isolation. But then you came along and completely wrecked all those painful thoughts. 

Ben hadn’t realized that he was being completely quiet, he was still processing that he was married and a farmer — he never thought this was how his life would turn out. “Thank you for the dinner dear,” he remarked appreciatively. 

The corners of your mouth turned upward and your eyes brightened ever so slightly at his gratitude, “You’re welcome. I’m sorry though, I know it’s not much-”

He interrupted, “Don’t worry yourself, it’s perfect… You’re the best, you know that?”

You held back a smile, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Am I now?”

Ben brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the palm gently, “You certainly are, my dear. You are the best thing to happen to me in years and I wouldn’t have it any other way."

You leaned forward and kissed him, deciding that no words would be able to encapsulate how you felt towards him.

His heart fluttered as you kissed him, it was so tender and he was more than willing to return it. Your lips were soft and inviting, and he couldn’t resist pulling you into his lap, his hands gently caressing your face. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck, desperately wanting to be closer to him.

You couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss, your body was reacting to his and you were so comfortable being in his arms. He was all you needed in life, there wasn’t anything else that mattered. His hands slowly drifted down and began rubbing small circles on the small of your back. 

Your heartbeat quickened as the two of you pulled apart, the feeling of kissing him was intoxicating. You started to subtly grind your hips down, desperate for any type of friction. 

Ben gasped softly at your ministrations and quickly connected your lips again. The kiss between the two of you was full of love and passion. Your hands were everywhere, one wrapped behind his neck and your other around his shoulder, as if you were trying to entangle yourself with him.

Ben deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out and exploring your mouth. He couldn’t take it anymore and picked you up, heading straight for your shared bedroom. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and you kissed all over his face and neck as he took you to the room. 

Once you reached the bedroom he gently laid you down on the bed and slowly made his way on top of you, wanting to savor each moment. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an expression that could only be described as pure, devoted love before lowering himself and kissing you again, this time slower and more intimate than he had previously. 

Without breaking the kiss, he started to tenderly remove your tunic from your body, revealing your naked top to his gaze. The rest of your clothes were quickly removed and thrown off the bed as Ben began to kiss you everywhere — your neck, your shoulders, your chest, anywhere he could get his lips on. His hands slowly made their way down your chest, squeezing and massaging your breasts before finally heading towards your neglected pussy. You were completely entranced by his touch, his hands were sending shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble with anticipation.

You whimpered in pleasure as his hands moved downward and he inserted one finger into your dripping folds while lightly rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.  You hastily tugged on his own tunic, stripping him until both of you were naked on the bed. You grasped his shoulders and spread your legs open wider, inviting him to come closer. Ben slotted himself in between your thighs and hovered on top of you, his arms caging you in. 

Ben shifted slightly, slipping one hand in between your bodies to grasp his cock. He dragged the tip of it through your folds a couple of times before finally sinking into you. You moaned as he pressed himself closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you adjusted to the size of his cock. 

You gripped his shoulders tighter, nails digging into his skin as you begged, “Ben, please, move.”

He slowly began to rock his hips, not wanting to rush this moment. The love between the two of you was palpable, your bodies fit together perfectly as if you were made for each other.  He moved his head to your neck, pressing soft kisses into the crook of it. He knew right then that everything he went through was worth it if this was his fate. All of his struggles and hardships faded away as if all that mattered was you and him. 

Your moans grew louder as he gradually picked up his pace, the wet squelching sounds of your skin meeting filled the room. Your nails raked down his back, pleasure completely filling your senses, the only thought on your mind was Ben. 

As your lips met again, the kiss was tender yet rough, a juxtaposition that seemed to also perfectly describe your husband. You could feel your orgasm looming, squeezing his cock and pulling him deeper into you. He moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttered, spilling inside of you, coating your insides with his cum. His orgasm triggered your own, whining loudly as you spasmed around him, your whole body trembling as you rode out your high.

The two of you laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence before he slowly pulled out of you, the mixture of your cum slowly running down your pussy and thighs. 

You leaned up and gently kissed the side of his mouth, “I love you, Ben.”

A soft smile grew on his lips, his heart was overflowing with his love for you. He had never felt like this with anyone but you — you were his person and he was yours, you were perfectly suited. He had no doubt in his mind that you were his soulmate, and he’d thank the Maker that the Force led him to you. “I love you too, my dear.”

You looked up at him lovingly, knowing that this was where you were meant to be, everything seemed right, everything made sense, when you were with him and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You knew in the back of your mind that you still had ways to go with Ben, but in this moment, none of that mattered, you’d have him in any way you could.

He exhaled and pressed his forehead against your shoulder — leaning against you in this way felt very nice. His body, mind, and soul felt rejuvenated just by being in your presence.

The two of you shifted so that you were laying your head on his chest and your legs were intertwined. Slowly you and Ben drifted asleep, your bodies, minds, and souls forever entwined.

[chouxsardine]

Hold Me (1)--- Jake Kiszka x reader

My fic for @seenoversundown 's Valentine's Day Writing Event! I choose the prompt: Play Truth or Dare

Summary: "hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.” || Your drunk slip-up leads to one of the best Valentine's Day gift you've ever got

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 3547

Warnings (for this part): 18+! Minors DNI, sexual implications, cursing, alcohol, dom Jake/sub reader, guitar kink, bondage, scissors, inappropriate use of guitar strap, pickle slander

Author's note: Remember I said here about a series of improper guitar use fantasy? Well, here's another one! This idea has been circling in my mind for the longest time. Happy Valentine's Day, Enjoy!

🎧: Dirty Little Religion by Warren Zevon

“Come on, y/n, you have to play by the rules. That’s only fair.”

“Oh gosh, please don’t,” you groaned, banging your forehead on the table, regretting every possible decision you have made in the last two hours.

It was a Friday night, Jake and you were throwing your very own drinking party at home. It started out with some innocent cocktails but has somehow soon turned into chugging down straight tequila. To add to the fun, you proposed an impromptu and very informal round Truth or Dare, which, looking back now, was a very bad idea. Yes, your original intention was to fish out some funny anecdotes from Jake, but woe is you—how the tables have turned. Now, you were the one facing the difficult choice between spilling your dirtiest fantasy or drinking a shot of pickle juice.

That dare was definitely devilish, and Jake was setting it up for you to fail. He knew you absolutely can’t stand pickle juice, especially when it’s that bottom-of-the-jar “essence”— evilly green and murky with all the loosened pulp and seeds floating around. Simply one look at it made you sick.

“Pick your poison, darling,” Jake said, making no effort to hide his smirk.

You tentatively reached for the shot glass but immediately gave in as its smell reached your nose. Why trouble yourself? You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t an arousing tingle inside. Simply the way Jake said the word ‘fantasy’ sounds sexy. Talking about the chokehold this man has on you. It was clear that you were fighting a losing battle. To choose something so ghastly over a little spice in the uncharted territory is just straight-up stupid. Plus, you may or may not have had a bit too much to drink. You felt positive that one simple sip of that pickle juice would make you throw up before the alcohol does.

Sensing the silence, Jake’s demeanour changed. He was more than tipsy, yes, but not to the point that it stops him from being attentive to your feelings and reactions. It was a cute, hot little thing he came up with on the spur of the moment that he thought would be fun. It wasn’t meant to put you on the spot. To make you uncomfortable and ruining the moment is the last thing he wanted.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have—”

“I’ve always—”

You opened your mouth simultaneously.

Jake took one look at you and shut up immediately. Your cheeks are flushed, your half-lidded eyes were fixed on him with a familiar look. Your left knee that was previously stretched out was now bent against your chest. Oh.

“Go on.” He whispered.

Fuck it.

“I’ve always felt jealous of your guitar, you know that? Especially when you are away on tour. The way you play it on stage, making all those girls scream for you…And that one time you fucking kissed it to make the vibration like that?” You let out a humourless laugh as your eyes narrowed, “it drives me mad.” The way you accentuate “mad” blurs its meaning, and it makes Jake wonder.

“Mad, huh? Which kind? Mad as in crazy, or mad as in angry?”

The drinking game long forgotten now that it has changed into your worship of Jake. You ignored his question completely as you continue. The words coming out much easier and at a faster pace.

“Or the way you slap it, the way you hold its neck and rock it,” all the images and videos you’ve seen are alive in your mind, overlaying with the sight of Jake right before your eyes, “the way you make her whine and scream.”

Jake’s heart skips a bit at the change of pronoun.

“Did you ever get hard while doing that?” You set down the glass on the table, got down on your hands and knees, crawling towards Jake until you were by his feet. “I bet you did. How can you not?” Jake beckoned and you straddled his lap in one swift motion, holding his face. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils dilated. “That’s when I get so jealous and….and insecure.” Jake frowned at that last word. He never thought of that.

“That’s when I wish I was there, waiting for you backstage. I want to kiss you and tell you how amazing you look up there because you deserve it,” with that, you studied Jake’s face intensely through your droopy eyes before defeatedly dropping your head onto his shoulder, your words muffled and slurred,“hell, you have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“I will if you tell me,” Jake tempted.

You pulled back, staring down at him. You caressed his cheek, your fanned breath tickling the loose strands of hair that frame his face. To Jake, you feel like a warm dessert soaked in bourbon; you looked…delicious. It was the same kind of primal desire that shares the same origin with hunger, the wild biological needs fuming. All your shame and self-consciousness unraveled by the alcohol, coming off like a corset with its ribbons pulled.

“I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap,” your eyes closed at how good it felt finally having those words freed from your mind, “I want you to hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.”

Jake’s jaw hung open. Damn, alcohol does makes people open up. He was not expecting you to say that and was also not expecting himself finding it so incredibly hot. Practically, whiskey dick, but mentally, he was so hard. Before he could come up with a decent response, your head dropped down again, this time with a heavier thud, and he could feel your breathing change.

“Y/n?”

No response.

He was so glad you finished that last sentence before passing out.

That was some weeks ago and you only had vague memories of the night. You knew that you must have spilled some crazy shit because since then, on several occasions, you have caught Jake staring at you. Well, it’s not like he can keep his eyes off you very often, but you can tell this is different. He would have his thumb and index fingers rubbing his chin, looking deep in thought as if composing a riff, except that his eyes are on you, and there is a predatory smugness that keeps you at your feet.

“For fucks sake, Jake. You’re doing it again! Why are you glaring at me like that?” You have tried fishing it out of him more than once.

“Secret” and a wry smile were the answers you got every time.

Luckily, he didn’t keep you waiting for too long; it was only a few days later when you finally get to find out about it.

Neither Jake nor you are the type of people who would go overboard on Valentine’s Day. In the past, it has always been a cute dinner date followed by a night that is both sweet and spicy. You could tell Jake is up to something this time. He’s been dropping subtle (or so he thought) hints throughout the day.

Evening was fast approaching. You opted for staying in and cooking. Jake made an amazing chicken piccata. (He even used heart-shaped pasta!) Dinner was quick and delicious, Warren Zevon’s record was playing in the background as you did the dishes. A pair of arms wraps around your waist as you turn off the faucet. Jake’s curls tickle your skin. He is humming to the song, and it takes you a second to realize that he was humming along with the record to the lyrics of Dirty Little Religion.

“I have a gift for you, sweetheart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, as if his intentions couldn’t be clearer. But who says you aren’t equally (or perhaps more) excited?

“Oh love, you’ve been so good to me all day, how could I ask more from you?” You sound innocent, as if completely unaware of the implications.

“M’not asking. I’m offering. My good girl deserves all my loving.” Jake replies slyly.

Jake calling you good girl will always make you knees go weak. You turn around in his embrace and willingly accept his affectionate kiss on the lips before pulling open the dishwasher. ‘Fine. I’ll just finish up here real quick, okay?”

“Of course, and when you do, come downstairs and find me.”

You quirk your eyebrows. “Downstairs, huh?” It looks like he does has some ideas.

“And you better hurry up, sugar.” He gives you a teasing smack on the butt before turning on his heels.

Downstairs means his studio. Your steps are a bit wobbly as you reach the bottom of the stairs and your fingers shiver as they come into contact with the cool metal of the doorknob. Calm down, y/n, you could be getting all riled up over nothing; knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth, your attempt to calm down sounds pathetic. Throughout your relationship with Jake, the last thing this man ever did was disappoint. And if your nose serves you right, you detect a faint smell of magnolia in the air—the scent that was only reserved for certain occasions. God, what has Jake been planning?

On a second thought, you retrieve your hand from the doorknob, choosing to gently knock three times. A gut feeling tells me that the man of the other side of the door would prefer some manners tonight.

“Come in.”

You push the door open. The room is warm and well-lit, looking the same as usual. Jake is sitting in his Corbusier-style leather chair in the corner, fingers steepling together.

“Hmmmm, a girl with courtesy I see. Very well.” Jake commends.

Bingo. You smile coyly. Your praise kink almost made you curtsy to him.

“Already so good, perhaps I have to find something else to reward you with on top of your gift,” Jake says thoughtfully as he approaches you and pulls you in for a kiss, “but first, my princess deserves to live out her fantasy.”

Fantasy? The way Jake says it gives the word a familiar twang that triggers something in your brain. Your mind is racing as it flips through memories from the past few weeks. Looking around you, most of Jake’s guitars are hanging on the wall instead of resting on the stand. A rather odd thing for him to do. And every guitar on the wall has the strap attached, hanging below them and casting snake-like shadows on the wall.

Then it kicks in. Memories of that Truth or Dare night rushes back to you. Your drunken words replay themselves in your mind, clear and loud: “I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap.”

“Oh, Jake, you didn’t—” Your hands fly up to cover your face in embarrassment.

“Oh, but I do,” Jake laughs, taking your hands in his and thumbing them in soothing circles, “no need to be shy, love. There’s nothing shameful about having desires; it’s a very human thing to do.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I’m so happy that you feel comfortable enough to share it with me,” Jake smile reassuringly, “and I find it hot beyond words.”

Your eyes shot up at him upon hearing it, and Jake’s gaze tells you that he is being honest. Seeing that you’ve relaxed, Jake leads you to stand right in front of his guitar display, his hands resting steadily on your shoulders.

“I’ll let you take your pick, doll. Whichever one that has the honour to have caught your eyes.”

You take a deep breath, feeling like a child in a candy store. This is not the time to get overwhelmed. Your eyes first travel greedily between the guitars, linger over their smooth curves, then you divert to the straps. Jake’s signature ’61 Les Paul SG is standing tall and proud in the middle, paired with the most often seen thin leather strap in back. Moving further right is his SG Classic with the Pinegrove brown padded strap from earlier days, and there’s the black one with the broader shoulder pad which was once used to hold a double-neck but now used on his Coodercaster. You picture them laying over Jake’s shoulder, the way they strain and slacken with his movement, the umbilical cord between his body and his creation. You also imagine the what they would look and feel when wrapped around your waist. The slightly nervous you is inching towards the brown strap—it looks so comforting with its suede texture and its wrinkled surface, and its also wider, therefore leaning towards a cuff rather than a rope when tied; however, the bolder voice obviously prefers the black one—classy, timeless, direct and succinct like a command. It’s thinner, so it might cut into your skin if you are squirming too much (which you definitely will), but isn’t that what you are after? Isn’t that the gist—pleasure mixed with pain?

Jake is being unexpectedly patient, giving you all the time you need to take it in as he resumes his previous position in the chair, admiring your predicament from afar.

“I want that one.” You blurt out finally, pointing at his black strap.

The look on Jake’s face made you suspect that he has known what you’d choose all along.

“Nice choice.” Jake comments, stepping forward to remove the strap from the guitar. You know it’s most likely in your head, but the strap looks different the second that it was detached from the instrument; now wrapped around Jake’s palm, it looks more powerful, it looks like it is determined to serve its intended purpose well for tonight.

“Now go upstairs.”

This time, the command is brusque.

Oh, so the studio is not the final destination. You feel like being on a scavenger’s hunt, following all the clues and getting more snd more excited and impatient by the second. You can’t tell if you are disappointed or relieved that you are not doing…well, whatever Jake intends to do with you…in his studio.

You hands are already touching the door when you heard him again:

“While you are up there, princess, do yourself a favour and strip down to your bra and panties.”

You gasp, but chose not to turn around.

“Yes,” you murmur just loudly enough for him to hear you, “Sir.”

Upstair in your shared bedroom, you do not know how to position your body. You are naked except for your underwear, but the room still seems too hot. You tried laying in bed in a sultry pose—too pretentious, for fuck’s sake, you’ re not shooting porn. You sat down but you kept hugging your knees to yourself—you don’t want Jake to mistake that as reluctance. You are just a bit jittery. God knows how long you’ve been fantasizing this. You tried sitting on the ottoman, but the leather kept sticking to your bum, and it wouldn’t take long before you start sweating and leaving a shame-filled imprint on the seat. You’ve always wanted this, and it’s Jake, there’s nothing to be nervous about, just do what feels best.

Alright, alright.

Following the voice in your heart, you find yourself dropping down to your knees, kneeling on the plush beige rug by the bed. You have your back against the bedroom door. You know it would be impossible for you not to look at Jake’s reaction the moment he see you in this pose, but you are also not sure if you are ready to take that reaction. To you, for now, kneeling feels the most right. For you and Jake, the dom/sub thing in bed is never explicit. Sure, he enjoys you calling him Daddy from time to time and you definitely have got him all whiny and teary for more than once, but this would be the first time that you will be trying restraints. You guess you have always had this fantasy—there’s just something about Jake and his guitar that makes your knees buckle. You are secretly thankful for your drunk slip-up, because you are not sure if you will have the courage to stare into his eyes and say those words sober, even though you know that Jake would never judge you.

The sound of the door opening interrupts your thought. The room is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, and you are holding your breath. Therefore, even without looking, you are positive that Jake hitches his breath when he sees you. You regret a little for facing away from him. Now you want to see his expression.

“Don’t move.” As if reading your mind, Jake orders. You straighten your back. Jake approaches until he is standing right behind you.

“What a good girl.”

Something touches you. You quickly realize Jake is using the bended strap to trace random patterns on your back. You feel the looped end of the strap at your cervical spine before it circles around your scapula, from where it travels down along your spine all the way to your hipbone, dipping a little into the elastic band of your panties. Jake watches the involuntary contraction of your muscles as they react to the touch, feeling satisfied as he sees the fine hairs on the back of your neck slightly perk up.

You just breathed a sigh of relief when you feel the smooth leather again, this time reaching in front and tracing your clavicle. It stops at the little indentation between the bones, right beneath your throat and inches upwards to your chin, tilt it upward, then finding leverage on the left side of your jaw, Using it to turn your head back.

You run straightforward into Jake’s eyes, which are now the colour of melted chocolate. The dark, mesmerizing, 80% cocoa type.

Your pouty lips and puppy eyes are silently begging him for a kiss. Jake indulges, catching your bottom lip between his teeth slightly as his pulls away.

“Already tasting so sweet, angel.”

Aside from the praise, the tenderness in his tone is unvarnished. This is the voice he uses whenever he checks up on you. This is a sign that you are about to have the talk—the sweet conversation with a fraction of awkwardness before you two try out anything new that gives consent and sets up rules and boundaries.

“I…I really want this.” You pre-empt.

“That’s good to hear,” Jake chuckles. Now he has came around, sitting face to face with you. What looks like a wash bag laying beside his knees. What? He has gone and got a bag for this? You wonder what the hell he has got in there.

“I know it’s been a minute, but do you still remember our safe word?”

“Yes. It’s ‘soundcheck’.” You answer, peeling your eyes away from the bag. The safe word was something you two has settled early on in your relationship. Neither of you has been in a position that requires the use of it, but the simple fact that such a word exists and you are comfortable using it when the situations calls for is reassurance for both sides.

“Good. Use it if you need to. Since we are trying something new today, I suggest we add on to it a bit more,” Jake holds your gaze steadily as you nod, “we are going with colours. Green means all good and continue; yellow means pause, say it if you feel like it’s too much, we will take a break, check in, work things out, and you decide if you want to keep going; red is the big ‘no-no’, say it and everything, I mean everything, stops immediately, no question asked. Copy?”

“Yes, green to go, yellow to pause, and red to stop.” You repeat it back, knowing Jake always requires a clear response at this point. This is starting to sound like those naughty romance novels, although you have a secret feeling that what you’re about to experience is going to be so much better.

“Clever girl,” Jake unzips the bag and takes out a pair of scissors, showing them to you, “these are safety shears. I feel like they’re necessary if I am tying you up today. They are medical grade and they cut through everything. Whatever the reason you need out of the restraints, they get you the quick release. ”

He places the scissors in your hands. You hold on to it, finding its curved blade and matte handle consoling. “Now listen up, if it comes to that,” Jake speaks slowly, his index finger tapping your naked skin with each accentuated word, “I will cut the strap. I don’t care how long I’ve had it or how much it costs. They are nothing compared to your safety. Do you hear me, love?”

“Yes. Yes, I understand.” You heart melts at how serious he is taking this. You knew he must’ve done his research. The colour system and all. “Thank you, Jake.”

“No need to thank me for keeping you safe, doll,” Jake squeezes your hand gently, “now, are we ready?”

Part 2 out now

Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated. I've never done a taglist before....does anyone want to be tagged for part 2?

my other works: Permission to Fall | Mariner's Complex | Ticked (all my boxes) | Love is a four-legged word | The Lucky Ones | Coming back to me | Warm Honey | He Would

[annie-creates]

Beautiful baby bump

Pairing: Queen Ravenna x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 800

Note: Thank you so much for this request, let's celebrate the New Year, my birthday, Valentine's and 250 followers with this as it's the first fic for a new character I'll write for! It's a little shorter but I hope you'll like it.

Another long day of adjudicating and governing, Ravenna was ready to fall to bed exhausted and tense. The whole day of sitting in the slightly uncomfortable throne did nothing for her back and the heavy crown strained her neck. She wouldn’t trade her job for any other, but it still had its disadvantages. As the sun was setting down and she had only a few subjects left to see, she felt like the definition of “heavy the head that wears the crown.”

As she left the crown room heading towards her chambers, she couldn’t wait to see you. Any day was made better by the minutes she spent with you. Opening the heavy doors of your shared room, she noticed you weren’t alone. Your maid was keeping you company, massaging your swollen ankles and praising your baby bump. She couldn’t help but feel a ping of jealousy, having to spend the whole day separated from you while some unimportant servant gets all your attention.

“You can leave us now.” She commands harsher than she had to and the maid gets up and leaves assured by your nod.

“You don’t have to be so rude to her.” You scold you wife with nothing but sweetness.

“I can’t help it, she gets you all for herself.” Ravenna complains while sitting next to you.

“She’s helping me around, you think I could even get out of bed with this huge boulder attached?” you explain discontently.

“It’s beautiful.” Ravenna assures you giving you a little kiss on the stomach to amplify her words.

“It’s obstructive and unattractive. I feel like a huge whale. You can’t find me beautiful like that..?” you had a hard time believing such words lately.

“Love, you’re growing a new life here. It’s nothing short of amazing. And it’s gonna be our baby. I could never love you more. Hardly anything could be more beautiful than that.” The sincerity was practically seeping off your wife as she caressed every inch of your stomach.

“Yea, whatever. Will you help me with a bath?” you tried your best to believe what she said but you couldn’t see yourself the way she saw you. All you saw was a big fat lady who couldn’t even reach her own shoes.

“Of course. Let me take care of you.” Ravenna agreed enthusiastically, she’ll show you how much better her care is instead of your maids.

As she prepared a bath of your favorite temperature, a little too hot even for her, she poured a few scented oils in just to make it a tad bit more special. Since you became pregnant you felt cold all the time and the cold stone walls of the castle did little to help you feel cuddled, so you needed your baths and blankets to be extra warm. As the bathtub filled, she helped you get up and strip your clothes, finding your slight embarrassment adorable. Settling you in she rubbed your shoulders and back, relieving some of your constant pain.

“That’s amazing.” You moaned throwing your head back in relief.

“All the best for you, my princess.” She kissed the top of your head and helped you wash your hair.

When you left the tub she snuggled you in a warm fuzzy robe, preparing the bed to get you settled in. As she spread out the blankets, a knock on the door interrupted her. Yet she put you in and made sure you’re comfortable before answering, hoping it’s nothing important. The last thing she wanted was to leave. You whined as she left you to open the door. To her unpleasant surprise it was your maid again.

“I came to prepare the warming embers…” she explained unsure, hardly being able to look into your wife’s stone-cold eyes.

“We can take care of our own bed. Now leave before I make sure you never come back.” Ravenna ushered her away and closed the door as the maid practically run away without as much as a curtsey.

“I told you not to be so harsh with her.” You scolded your wife again, you didn’t know what you’d do without the much needed help.

“And I told you I don’t like her.” She countered as she got in the bed with you. “Now come here for cuddles.”

That was an offer you couldn’t refuse, so you snuggled next to Ravenna letting her pet your hair and caress your back with light scrubs of her nails. Lately you didn’t see each other as much as you’d like to, but you knew her job was important and couldn’t be slacked off and you were quite frankly growing a whole new life inside you and needed your rest. You couldn’t wait to not be pregnant again but moments like this made it all worth it.

[thelioncourts]

I've been real absent online the last couple of months, but I can't miss out on @iwtvfanevents 'a meal to remember' because we are so incredibly blessed with beautifully creative and talented people in this fandom who constantly inspire and allow me to forever-wander in the world of Louis de Pointe du Lac, my most darling and favorite character ❤️ this won't be nearly as organized as I'd like it to be, won't say all I want to say, and I will inevitably miss somebody and/or some fic, but just know that there is so much wonderful content out there, especially by so many of the people on this list that anyone can check out at any point:

twelve days/nine months by @devotiondroid & @weather-mood daniel/louis/armand modern human au quite literally the fic that saved the holiday season for me. when new chapters of 'twelve days' would post, I would drop everything to go read it and would count down the days until the next update was set to happen. 'nine months' is a wip in the same verse and just as stunning. it's no surprise it's amazing; it's toni and it's bri, two people shining with so much talent it's blinding. and their powers combined?? oh my god. (there's also a one-shot in this verse called 'saint valentine' and my brain broke reading it, idk) now, just a list of @devotiondroid fics that changed me as a person: daniel/louis (and a little louis/armand as of now) human au quicksilver/mercury a danlou noir au that I reread a couple of weeks ago just to feel something again and then toni up and posted its prequel 'mercury' and I simply couldn't cope. the noir vibes paired with the gorgeously yearning story is just !!! everything.

daniel/louis modern human au

baby, I'm your man

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WOULD READ 1000000k of this world. the idea of it, the complete ache of this story, has stuck with me, buried somewhere between my ribs, and I'll forget about it for a second then remember and it'll hit me like truck how wonderful it is. toni................m o r e lestat/louis human au my neck, her rope solar plexus hit of a fic. oh, oh the loustat dynamics....it's gorgeous and the concept is !!!!!!!!!! everything to me and now, my list of @weather-mood fics that, when posted, I quite literally become/became a dragon needing to hoard the newfound treasure immediately: armand/louis (armand/louis/REAL RASHID) canon-verse instruction real rashid, my beloved ;;;; no but, honestly, bri has made real rashid so important to me and to loumand, she's why he exists in my first (unfinished) loumand fic 'facio ut facias' because he's just that important. but bri also just always puts into her fics the gorgeous way that loumand are so perfect together, the way they are consumed with one another's existence. armand/louis canon-verse-esque rumpelstiltskin

FAIRY TALE AU. bri is also the inspiration behind my unposted and ongoing fairy tale au because no one does it like her and this one is......oh god, the way armand is the only character that could have ever been in this, the way he fits into louis' life to be this exact character.......don't talk to me lestat/louis; armand/louis; armand/louis/daniel siren au THE ENTIRE PART OF YOUR WORLD (ONCE UPON A WINE DARK SEA) VERSE y'all don't need me to tell you how perfect it all is. I think about it constantly, I've told real life friends about it, it's everything, every single fic of it is everything. lily/lestat pirouette by @weather-mood and @nlbv/@ouizaya

it's so interesting thinking about lestat in those weeks and months of hunting louis, of how he found out things about him from others, how he got lily so involved, how she died because of it all, and the way bri and zaya took all of that and then showed the mental state of lily throughout it all, how much lestat's vampiric control ruined her....................amazing. it's everything.

lestat/louis canon-verse tides by @nlbv/@ouizaya

zaya, my love, she takes some of the sexiest loustat scenes and makes them even sexier before gut-punching you with something insane and devastating and it reminds me so much of the show's writing, the way you'll be like 'look at my family <3' and then suddenly their conversation has gotten dark, the room looks cold, and you wonder how they'll ever truly come back from it......... god shallows by @nlbv/@ouizaya

REPEAT ALL THAT I SAID ABOVE AND THEN SOME. like???? the episode 6 elaboration???????????? oh my god. it's real. it's what happened. we all know it.

roadkill by @nlbv/@ouizaya and baberainbow I think about this fic so often. the car wreck, lestat and claudia being so in-tune with one another hunting because they're the same, the way they're both aware of louis, the way the family works and fits in, the gore and beauty of it. obsessed. TIME TO TALK ABOUT BABE. lestat/louis canon-verse glass the capturing of louis during those earliest vampiric days, paired with lestat's doting as he tried to solidify his wooing, and then just -- everything else, it's all so good.

disruptions that scene in ep 7 where the entire family teams up on that poor man at their door is crazy and this fic takes that concept and just runs with it in the best way

lestat/louis non-traditional a/b/o verse lioness listen.............i'm such a sucker for a good a/b/o fic and we have a severe lack of them in iwtv, thank you, babe, for writing a beautiful one armand/louis canon-verse luna the way that loumand have been together through some of the most insane historical events will haunt me and also I'm in love with the idea of it, thank you, babe, I want every single year and something they experienced together

armand/louis; lestat/louis; louis/others canon-verse catacomb a required read leading into season 2. that's all you need to know.

armand/louis/lestat cannibalistic modern au cleave/tie by @kittyldpdl

a couple of years ago, I went through this obsessive body horror phase where all I watched and read was something that had some kind of body horror and it would make me nauseous but also I was so intrigued, so fascinated, I couldn't stop. this is that. oh my god.

armand/louis; lestat/louis modern au capillary by @kittyldpdl and @salmoncakepls

WIP. I think about it once a week. falling in love with louis while dressing him??????????? oh my god, the concept, the idea, I want to drown in it armand/louis; lestat/louis robot&android au design; intricate by @salmoncakepls

every time I see concepts for this fic my brain short circuits and every time I read it I just !!!!!!!!!!!!! the brain behind this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the most brilliant

goat goat goat time <3 <3 <3 armand/louis prey drive by @iwtvdramacd18

HI I THINK ABOUT PREY DRIVE EVERY TWO DAYS AND FEEL FAINT. like idk what else to say, it just sticks with you and you're like 'wow they're just like that and it's insane and beautiful and raw' and goat just writes it perfectly, always lestat/louis exposure by @iwtvdramacd18

I've never actually heard of this fic, but if I had, I would assume it was the most batshit crazy thing I'd ever read......full compliments lestat/louis WIP lunacy by @iwtvdramacd18

I seriously always admire people who can write the 'monster' so well. I struggle so much with actual horror/monsters/suspense and so to read it so well done always makes me a little crazy armand/louis/daniel canon-verse after s1 gathering dust by @knifeeater

non-linear narrative !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

armand/louis canon-verse esque alluvium by @knifeeater

I see the tag service dom armand and my brain blacks out, comes back, and is forever changed. that's all. armand/louis/lestat perpetuum mobile by @knifeeater

sometimes you read a fic and the opening is the most insane thing you've ever read that you're like 'how can they keep this up?' and then they do and you're like 'oh so you're that kind of talented....okay' that's this fic.

armand/louis canon-verse

dirges by @dictee

'He had told Louis once, a lifetime ago, as a kind of bedtime story, about his work with cadavers in the nineteenth century, in the catacombs under the Parisian graveyards. Louis, half asleep, made some comment about Mary Shelley, but in his mind it was his skin under Armand’s scalpel, as loving a part of Armand as any. Shuddering and offering up the red jewels of his insides. ' please read it. oh my god.

MORE DANLOU NOIR THAT IS JUST i'll let you win by @diasdelfuego

danlou prophet. daniel just being so overcome by louis...........daniel just being so enraptured, so in love. the noIR. ily. need to reread asap actually oh my god.

daniel/louis post s1 nothing left to give you now by @diasdelfuego

'When he turns back around, Louis is still facing away from him, eyeing the coffee table as he shrugs off his coat. It slides gracefully off Louis' elegant frame to reveal a deep burgundy button-down underneath. In Daniel's mind, he thinks as he takes in the sight, Louis is always wearing black —mourning black, the writer in his brain supplies. Daniel takes stock of him while Louis stands at the edge of the carpet and looks over Daniel's apartment. The vampire is just as preternaturally young as he was half a century ago, just as beautiful, looking entirely out of place in Daniel's mundane, chaotic environment.' like imagine the whole fic being this beautifully written................................w h a t

lestat/louis; armand/louis murdery mystery au WIP overlords by @diasdelfuego and @shewhomustbecalledking I'm behind on this (work is the worst, let's all quit our jobs) but what I've read is just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO INSANE. cannot wait to catch up, I have spring break in three weeks and honestly just want to read the entire time, catching up on this and drowning in its beauty

lestat/louis a/b/o verse WIP house of gold by @shewhomustbecalledking I think this was the first a/b/o fic I read for this fandom and it's the blueprint, it's the reason, it's everything. the way lestat is so perfectly lestat in this is everything to me. I love an in-character lestat so much.

armand/louis; lestat/louis AU gothic horror WIP rhodedendron by @blueiight

'Let the Devil tempt me not, Louis thought, as he crawled to the mirror. Hollowed out eyes stared back at him, light-brown mawkish physique barely visible, swallowed up by loose pajamas, twists slightly askew but still meticulously sectioned off.

You look a fucking mess, bruh. Hardly fit to carry on the Du Lac name, what lady would want troubles such as yours? His Mother’s voice blended in with his own. But alas he could not be, could not sit in his sorrow and forever laud the man he was not.' true southern gothic horror. the last two chapters changed everything for me.

lestat/louis modern human au dreaming put to shame by @downstairsbar

I read this every single weekend. the beginning??? louis classing lestat?????????????? louis knowing lestat's eyes are on him but not understanding it???????????? the way I'd give anything for a million more words about how they got to the last part, about what all follows.

lestat/louis canon-verse modern era WIP

murmur by proval the way these are still our louis and our lestat, reunited after everything, still so the same, still so not..............this author seems to have such a good hold of these characters, I can't wait to see where this fic goes

armand/louis; lestat/antoinette; lestat/louis modern succession inspired au WIP dirty, sexy money by thevintage I've never seen succession but I love a business au and these first three chapters are so good. lestat and louis are divorced, they have claudia to tie them together, lestat is marrying his mistress, and louis has just met armand who is business rival of lestat's and the sparks are already flying and ohmygodohmygodohmygod

[bifuriouswaterbender]

I'm a couple days early, but Happy Valentines Day to @manda-panda-monium! This fic was written as part of the Steddie Valentine's Fic Exchange using prompts from my giftee. Manda, I tried to incorporate a few of the things you asked for, but that request for a Soulmate AU really latched on in my brain. I hope you enjoy!

Title: Is There A Word for Bad Miracle? Rating: T Words: 6040 AO3 link

Steve always figured he’d meet his soulmate at a party. He got called King Steve in other settings, but it just seemed like a party phrase. It seemed like a joke.

Steve tried to pretend like it didn’t matter. He put his head down and tried to buckle through the rest of his shit show senior year. When it happened, he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

He didn't say any words back to Eddie Munson.

Steve always figured he’d meet his soulmate at a party. He got called King Steve in other settings, but it just seemed like a party phrase. It seemed like a joke. Steve didn’t like to think about it that way most of the time.

Besides, until he met that person, Steve didn’t need to worry about it. Yeah, the phrase seemed like a high school one, but that didn’t stop him from dating.

If anything, it spurred him on because Steve knew he’d be settling down young. He might as well live a little first.

Then Steve experienced a kind of life that he never wanted to deal with again as monsters became real and everything he knew turned on its head. And even though she wasn’t his soulmate, he wanted a life of steadiness with Nancy Wheeler. He loved her. He did. She wasn’t his soulmate, but she could be his lifemate. He could choose her. He would choose her.

Nancy didn’t choose him.

Steve tried to pretend like it didn’t matter. He put his head down and tried to buckle through the rest of his shit show senior year. Then when it happened, he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

“All bow before the noble King Steve! May we peasants only dream of hair so luscious.”

Steve had almost tripped. Tommy hadn’t completely abandoned him yet and offered some snarky retort in answer, so Steve didn’t have to. It was probably one of the last times they interacted at school, but Steve was thankful for it. He hadn’t needed to answer for himself.

He hadn’t needed to say any words to Eddie Munson.

Steve wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. He liked women. He was satisfied with women. He’d never… God, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? He’d locked those feelings up so tight, not even Tommy at his most vulnerable could shake them loose. Steve could be more than happy with women. He had been ready to marry one. He’d never considered that his soulmate might be anything else.

It had to be a mistake. Surely someone else would say those words to him someday. Yeah, they were unique, but they didn’t have to be singular. Someone else could say them, someone more normal and less like Munson. They didn’t make any sense together anyway.

But nobody called him King Steve these days.

When he graduated and headed straight to a summer job, King Steve was washed up. Even his flirting at work didn’t hold the same potency anymore. His heart wasn’t in it.

Steve thought he did a pretty good job hiding things. He felt a little guilty hiding it from Robin too, but Steve’s soulmate wasn’t an issue. He never interacted with Eddie Munson in school. Surely things wouldn’t change now that he’d graduated and had even less reason to share space with someone like Eddie.

Of course, the kids had to ruin that.

…

In Eddie’s defense, he was dealing with a lot of stress at the moment.

As Dustin said way too many words way too quickly and Eddie only took in about half of them, Steve spoke, and it itched something in his brain.

“I’m cool, man, I’m cool.”

He was agreeing with Dustin, trying to make Eddie back down from his first fight response option in fight or flight. The words themselves didn’t do much, but they tickled something in his brain, made him feel like things were going to be okay. Eddie hadn’t fully decided if he trusted them yet, but his body had. He reacted before he could really think it through.

Steve staggered away to catch his breath, and Dustin made himself the center of Eddie’s attention.

It was fine. They moved on. Eddie focused on what was happening. It wasn’t until hours later when he was alone and absently rubbing the black bandana over his words that Eddie froze.

He ripped the cloth off and stared down at his wrist.

I’m cool, man, I’m cool.

He must be misremembering.

No way in hell could Eddie’s soulmate be Steve Fucking Harrington.

Eddie had always known his soulmate would be a dude. From a young age, he’d known it. He’d also learned pretty young to keep that information to himself when his own father shouted at him that it would be a girl, not a boy—that no son of his would be meant for a boy. Eddie had curled in on himself, cried, and promised it wouldn’t be. He’d lied. His mother had explained later why his father felt that way and why most people felt that way, but Eddie still hadn’t understood. He’d known he wouldn’t be wrong.

Even as he got older, Eddie felt more confident it would be a guy. Yeah, a girl could have called him man, but even beyond the words themselves, he’d always felt it. Now he started imagining the context.

As he started getting into metal music and sneaking into The Hideout—after promising Wayne he wouldn’t drink until at least 18 when the older man found out—Eddie imagined it happening at the tail end of a fight. Maybe he’d be the one breaking it up, and some badass stranger would hold up his hands and say those words.

Maybe it would be at a gay bar or just outside one, the guy responding to some bad innuendo on Eddie’s end.

Eddie had come up with tons of scenarios. Granted none of them had involved him holding a bottle to his soulmate’s throat, but they’d sure as hell never featured Steve Harrington either. What was the first thing Eddie had said to him? Had he talked to him directly and not just to the group?

Eddie had to be misremembering what Steve had said or else it was a fluke Steve had said his words. Otherwise Steve would have reacted when he spoke back. Surely this wasn’t the first time they’d talked to each other. Eddie knew he’d talked to Steve’s group at least a few (taunting) times in high school. There’s no way he and Steve had never spoken to each other. No way.

Just in case, Eddie tested him as they met up again in Steve’s damn makeout spot. There was something odd in Steve’s eyes as they spoke, but it wasn’t any kind of recognition. It wasn’t the widening of realizing Eddie had said that magical phrase. That settled it. Steve couldn’t be his soulmate.

But fuck if watching him bite into a demobat didn’t do something for Eddie.

…

“Okay, dingus, something’s up.”

Steve jerked his head, staring at Robin as he realized with a sense of horror that she’d caught him spacing off watching Eddie and Dustin prepare for their battle.

“We’re about to take on Venca directly. I think that gives me a good reason to act like something up.” Steve tried to shrug casually, but he knew she’d see right through it.

Robin narrowed her eyes. She had.

Steve sighed and started walking. He needed to have more privacy for this conversation.

Thankfully Robin didn’t push him yet, simply followed along at his side. The energy radiating from her was palpable, but for now, she held her questions in check. Steve appreciated that.

Eventually he’d pulled her far enough from the group that Steve slowed to a stop. He leaned back against a tree and took a deep breath.

“Spill,” Robin commanded.

Steve swallowed hard. “Tammy Thompson.”

Robin started at him for a moment. “Are you… Is this for real? Holy shit, Steve! I wondered if we’d have this conversation eventually, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I’m so proud of you! What made things click? Was it almost dying? Is it Eddie? Oh my god, why Eddie? Steve, I love you, but you have the weirdest taste in men.”

As she’d talked, Robin had thrown her arms around his waist, and Steve hugged her back. He took a deep breath against her head as he debated how to answer. Probably best to answer truthfully.

“Eddie’s my soulmate.”

Robin sprang back as if she’d been burned. “He’s what?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” Steve all but pleaded.

Robin nodded. “Okay, I, uh… I won’t.” She stared off for a moment, and Steve swore he could physically see her processing.

“Okay, so this is a new revelation then. The, um, liking boys part. Do you want to talk about it?”

Eyes falling shut, Steve shook his head. “It’s not new. I mean I haven’t really let myself accept it, but it’s not really new.”

“Oh.” Robin paused, then swatted him across the arm.

Steve yelped in response, eyes going wide. “What was that for?”

“You let me bare my heart out about Tammy Thompson and liking girls when you knew you liked boys!”

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, shoulders rising defensively. “What was I supposed to say? ‘You like girls? Totally cool! By the way, my soulmate’s a dude, so I understand. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but ya know.’”

Robin’s mouth fell open. “He didn’t know? You knew and he didn’t? How is that even possible?”

Steve shrugged as he shrunk back against the tree. It was digging into his side where his wound felt tender, but if nothing else, the sensation made him feel grounded. “We’ve been over that I was popular and… not always the nicest in high school. People talked at me sometimes. If I had the right people around, I never had to answer, even when it was something that probably required a response. His didn’t really, but Tommy handled it. I, um, didn’t have to say anything. That was probably good. I don’t think anything I would have said then would have been good.”

Figuring he owed her, Steve undid the snaps holding his leather wrist strap in place. He held out his hand. After only a second, Robin snatched it up to stare. She whistled. “He didn’t hold back, huh?”

He shook his head. “I’d never talked to him, but fuck, he hated me and everything I stood for. I couldn’t ruin that for him, even if I’d been ready to acknowledge it for myself. I wasn’t.”

Robin was silent for a while before eventually asking, “So even though you could have figured out the perfect first words, you never did it? You never talked to him?”

Steve looked at the ground as he admitted, “I avoided him. We didn’t have any classes together, so I just… figured out his schedule and purposefully stayed away for the rest of the year. It was easier than I thought it would be. I figured when graduation hit, I’d never have to worry about it ever again. How was I supposed to know we’d end up with shared custody of the dweebs?”

“You should have,” Robin said. “The universe has a sense of humor like that. Also a desire to help you find your person.”

Steve put an arm out, and Robin leaned into him automatically, her head on his shoulder. Last summer he wondered at how much easier his life would be with someone like Robin as his soulmate. They fit together so perfectly. Obviously he knew now she wasn’t interested in him, but platonically she could have been his soulmate. He wouldn’t have been disappointed.

“So what were your first words to him?” Robin asked.

“I don’t know.”

She stayed where she was but tilted her head up to look at him better. “What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t acknowledged it. Even when we had that little heart-to-heart in the Upside Down, he never mentioned it. Either he knows and doesn’t want to admit to having someone like me as a soulmate, or we aren’t soulmates and I didn’t say his words.”

“That can’t be,” Robin said. “I can’t accept that he’d say your words but you wouldn’t say his. Look, I know he’s a weird guy, but you’ve seen him with Dustin. And the two of you just seemed so in sync these last few days. Like now that I know, it makes so much sense. He’s your soulmate, Steve. He’s gotta be.”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t think he wants to be.”

“Maybe he was waiting for you to say something.”

The idea was so simple that Steve blinked a few times wrapping his mind around it.

“Think about it,” Robin continued. “He’s used to being an outsider and still sees you as one of the popular kids. I know you’ve changed since high school, but he’s stuck there. Hard to believe people can move on when you’re still going through that same drama. I bet he doesn’t know how you’re going to react and convinced himself as easily as you did that it couldn’t be possible or that he was being rejected. You have to talk to him.”

“I will,” Steve promised. “After. I’ll talk to him after.”

Later when they prepared to head in, Steve’s eyes flicked down automatically to Eddie’s wrist when he realized the other had moved the bandana covering it to his head. Unfortunately his sleeves covered it. That was fine. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation.

With the way Eddie held his eye, Steve wondered if he knew they needed to have it.

…

The pain lessened the longer it went on. So did the brightness. The Upside Down didn’t have much light anyway, but the way it floated behind Dustin’s head seemed to grow fainter. Dustin did too actually.

Maybe it was him. Maybe Eddie was the one fading.

He hadn’t run. He’d done what he’d needed to. He’d kept Dustin safe. He’d bought the others more time. They’d done it.

Dustin was still crying. He felt bad about that. As bad as he could right now when it hardly seemed to matter. The kid would move on. He was just Eddie. No one would miss him in the long run.

Other yelling surrounded him now. Other voices. Maybe their friends had arrived. That was nice. Dustin wasn’t going to be alone. That was good.

He felt the ghost of pressure against his skin, but Eddie paid it no attention as his vision faded out completely. This was it.

Another sensation. Movement. Eddie was floating.

No, not floating. Being carried. Someone was carrying him.

Then a voice. Eddie’d tuned them all out, but this one forced its way to his attention. Steve. Steve’s voice.

“You’re not dying on me, Munson. You’re not leaving me without a soulmate.”

…

Dustin hadn’t wanted to leave the hospital, and frankly neither had Steve. But they hadn’t been allowed back with Eddie anyway, so taking Dustin to check in with his mother had seemed like the best opportunity. She’d wrapped Dustin’s leg to keep him off it. Thankfully it was just a sprain and not a break, but Steve was there with her in concern about it. She’d also fussed over them both, forced them to shower, and lectured Steve about how improperly his wounds were being cared for.

“You should get those checked out at the hospital,” she admonished.

Steve shrugged. “I guess I could. We, uh, have a friend who’s there now.”

“It’s Eddie,” Dustin cut in. “He’s hurt really bad. It happened trying to protect me.”

And as though he was learning it himself for the first time, Dustin crumbled. It took joint hugs from Steve and Claudia to pull him back together again.

“You boys go,” she said gently, wiping a tear away from her son’s face.

Normally Dustin rolled his eyes and protested when he felt smothered, so Steve could tell just how badly he needed his mom’s attention right now.

“Take care of your friend.”

When they got to the hospital, it took some persuasion on Steve’s end to get them back to Eddie. He did not bring up his own injuries. They weren’t the doctors’ business. Besides, he didn’t want to get yanked into a room himself and leave Dustin stranded.

As they walked in, both froze, staring at the situation in front of them.

Eddie looked so small in the hospital bed: hair matted against his head, thin hospital gown instead of his usual layers, and a blank face void of all his typical expressiveness. Even in his sleep, Steve had expected his face big and expansive. The lack of it was frightening.

Equally horrifying was the handcuff binding him by the wrist to the hospital bed. The exposed wrist.

“This is ridiculous!” Dustin sputtered, backing up to glare at the officer posted in the hall outside his room. “He’s innocent! And anyway, he can’t go anywhere. He isn’t even awake yet, much less able to get up and move!”

The man just glared, and Steve took Dustin by the shoulders to pull him in. After a second of hesitation, he shut the door. Steve paused to see if the officer would open it again, but apparently their presence wasn’t considered a threat. With a sigh of relief, he headed further into the room.

“It’s so stupid,” Dustin muttered. “And no privacy! That’s not cool of them to force his words on display like that.”

Steve glanced up, eyes stuck on the exposed skin. Sure enough, they’d cuffed him palm up, exposing the words that rested against the veins there.

I’m cool, man, I’m cool. It stared up at him in his own handwriting, and Steve swallowed hard. Dustin was trying not to look as he glared instead at Eddie’s face, so Steve did the only thing that seemed logical. He took off his own cuff.

Dustin’s eyes widened as Steve fastened it around Eddie’s wrist below the cuff.

“But now yours is…”

Steve shrugged. “But it’s my choice at least.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the way Dustin’s eyes lingered curiously. He couldn’t read it from there, certainly not with Eddie’s messy scrawl. But Steve had never let himself be this exposed about his mark before.

There were two chairs in the room, one on either side of the bed, so Steve sat down on the side with the handcuffs, trying not to look at it or the way Eddie’s hand hung limp. Rather than sitting down in the other chair, Dustin moved to the bottom of the bed and picked up the clipboard there to scan through it.

Steve snorted. “So his soulmark being exposed isn’t okay, but you violated privacy laws to read his chart is?”

“Eddie’s talkative about injuries,” Dustin replied without looking up. “He won’t care. That’s different, though. That’s something he’s private about.”

While Steve rolled his eyes at the justification, he didn’t argue. Dustin was probably right. Besides, he wanted to know. “What’s the verdict?”

“He’s fucked up,” Dustin said, all matter-of-fact.

“We knew that.”

Dustin shrugged and finally looked up from the charts. “Several of his organs were damaged. He had a collapsed lung. We knew he had a ton of blood loss.”

Steve grimaced. They knew that well. He’d thrown out his jacket because it wasn’t worth trying to get that much blood out. Claudia had thought she could help the rest of his clothing, so he’d let her keep them to try cleaning under the insistence that if she had to throw them out, he wouldn’t mind.

“How’s he going to be?”

Dustin bit his lip. “There’s a risk assessment here about the odds of him not waking up. They’re low… but high enough that they included them.”

Steve hadn’t even considered that as an option. “Other than that?”

“It doesn’t say for sure since it’s meant for the doctors and stuff, but I think he’ll be okay. It sounds like it anyway.”

The door opened, and Dustin slammed the chart back into its holder before whirling around. Steve might have found it comical if he wasn’t also worried about being yelled at.

When he turned around, Steve expected a doctor. It wasn’t.

It was an older man in a plaid jacket and work boots, eyes fixed not on them but on Eddie in the bed.

“You’re Wayne,” Dustin said.

His eyes snapped up to the boy before drifting toward Steve at the bedside, and Steve suddenly felt like they were both intruders.

He grunted. For a moment, no one moved.

Then Wayne lumbered into the room and around the bed to sink into the other chair. Steve noted he’d shut the door again behind him.

They continued not to speak as Wayne reached out and took Eddie’s hand in his, cupping it in such a way that hid it away. His head swayed slowly, taking in Eddie’s face, down what was visible of his body above the blankets, and up to the hand bound to the bedpost. The expression on his face hardened, then softened again at the cuff. He glanced at Steve, clearly knowing it wasn’t Eddie’s. Steve didn’t want to answer directly, but he shifted his hands on his lap enough that Wayne would be able to see the back of his bare wrist but not the words. Unlike Dustin, he might recognize the handwriting.

Eventually Wayne nodded. “You boys the ones who brought him here?”

“Yes sir,” Dustin said quickly. “Steve carried him. He…” He cut himself off. They haven’t been forced to sign NDAs yet, but they would be. Probably best not to read Wayne in if they can help it.

“More happened than they said did, didn’t it?” Wayne asked. “This wasn’t just some crazy kid and an earthquake. There’s more in this town.”

Steve and Dustin locked eyes. Eventually Steve nodded.

Dustin spoke slowly and carefully, “There’s only so much we can say. Hopefully Eddie will be able to tell you, depending on what the agreements look like this time.”

Wayne inhaled audibly through his nose.

Dustin flinched. He’d said too much. He’d made it clear it had happened before. “What I mean is… Yes, there’s more. That’s all we can say. But you need to know, sir… Eddie’s a hero. He saved my life. He saved all of us.”

The hands around Eddie’s squeeze tight. “That don’t surprise me,” Wayne said with a grunt. “He’s always been a brave boy.”

“He thought he wasn’t,” Steve said quietly. “He’s never realized how much he does and how much for others especially.”

“You’re the Harrington boy.”

Steve flinched automatically. Wayne didn’t quite make it an accusation, but it was a statement, not a question. That probably meant he knew Steve’s dad or at least knew of him. That wasn’t usually a good thing with people Steve had never been introduced to at dinner parties. “I am.” He almost asked why that was relevant, but Steve bit his tongue. It wouldn’t do to lash out at someone whose good side he wanted to stay on. Steve’s big mouth couldn’t get them kicked out.

“Hmm,” Wayne grunted, looking down at Eddie again. “Guess I wouldn’t have expected you to be the type to carry my boy to safety.”

“Steve’s more than his name.” Unlike Steve, Dustin sounded downright defensive.

Shooting him a look, Steve tried to convey that it was fine. “With all due respect, I’m not my father.”

Wayne’s eyes stayed on Eddie. “I guess that’s true all around.”

After a beat of silence, Steve stood. He kept his hand angled to keep his words hidden. “Dustin, why don’t we head down to the cafeteria.”

Dustin opened his mouth to argue, but Steve cut him off. He could see the relief on Wayne’s face for some alone time.

“We’ll come back up after. But your mom’ll kill me if I don’t keep you fed. Let’s go see what they’ve got. Maybe we’ll see if Max is allowed visitors yet.”

After a few seconds, Dustin nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can do that. We’ll be back, Mr. Munson!” He hesitated before adding, “Bye Eddie!”

With a lump in his throat, Steve followed him toward the door. He paused once to look back. Eddie still seemed so small. But he was in good hands.

…

Eddie had always been a heavy sleeper. He didn’t wake up easily, and as he slowly became aware of the world around him, it took a while to realize things weren’t quite normal. The blankets covering him were too orderly to be his at home. The pillow under his head felt plumper. And there were places on his body that felt tight. Wrong.

As he lifted a hand to drag it across the blankets and touch his side, Eddie heard a sharp intake of breath next to him. That was what finally got him to open his eyes.

He blinked away the blurriness, Steve coming into focus as he leaned forward from a plastic chair next to the bed.

“You’re awake,” Steve breathed.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden awareness of his body forced out a groan instead. Jesus, everything hurt.

A hand touched his forehead, and Eddie blinked a few times trying to understand how Steve had suddenly gotten so much closer.

Almost as if he too had just realized he’d done it, Steve sank back into his chair. “I, um— What hurts? What can I do? I can call a nurse if you need pain meds or something. Dustin’ll be annoyed if you fall asleep before he gets back here, but he can live. Max woke up yesterday. All the kids are with her. They’re having a moment or whatever. It’s good. They need it. They need to pretend they’re normal kids, even if it is in a hospital room.”

Eddie had never heard Steve say so much at one time. He seemed nervous, rambling. “You sound like Robin.”

The flush that spread over his skin was beautiful to look at. Eddie couldn’t even feel bad when he looked like that.

“Yeah, well, what do you say to someone who hasn’t been awake in three days?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “It’s been that long?”

Steve nodded, face growing stony. “Yeah, Wayne was hoping to be here when you woke up, but he’s at work. We promised we wouldn’t leave you alone. You, um… You almost died.”

Eddie thought back. He didn’t have much, just flashes, bits, and pieces. Bits and pieces of him missing. “I kind of remember that.” Words. Steve admitting that thing that neither of them was talking about yet.

His eyes snapped down to Steve’s wrist. His blood went cold as he found it wrapped in blue gauze.

“You’re hurt.”

Steve shrugged. “No more than I was before. It’s fine. Nancy stole some supplies from the closet down the hall. She’s been changing my bandages when it seems like they need it. I didn’t want to risk them making me stay here. The kids need rides, and you…” His face colored again. “You couldn’t be left alone.”

Eddie reached for Steve’s wrist, pausing as he realized his own was encircled in a leather cuff that definitely wasn’t his. His eyes flicked up to Steve’s.

Realization dawned as Steve tugged at the gauze. “I, uh, talked a nurse into giving me a little bit of it for this. Yours was… We couldn’t let them do that to you. You were, um, cuffed when we got here. They know it wasn’t you! Hopper’s back. He’s alive. He helped figure out a cover story. I can’t tell you all the details now, but just know you’re safe. You’re not going to be blamed, not by the police at least.”

That was a lot to take in, but Steve didn’t pause yet.

“Those fucking doctors and cops didn’t give a shit if your mark was on display. Dustin was so upset. And I couldn’t let them do that. That’s yours. Only you need to know.”

Steve looked away, staring hard at his own hands in his lap.

He wasn’t the only one who knew, though, was he? Steve knew. They both knew.

Eddie swallowed hard. It was time to prove it. Slowly he reached out to grab hold of the snaps keeping the cuff in place.

Steve’s eyes darted from the cuff to his face to his cuff again. They were doing this.

The snaps came undone easily enough, and Eddie let it fall to the bed. The words he’d seen his whole life stood stark against his skin. Steve started to reach, then stopped himself. They knew. They didn’t have to take a moment and pretend it was new information.

Hoping to cut the tension, Eddie joked, “How did we never talk in high school?”

Instead of laughing, Steve’s face filled with shame. “Well, how did I never talk back might be the better question?”

Eddie straightened up as best he could in the hospital bed, ignoring the pain in his sides as he watched Steve reach for the tape around his wrist. Soon Eddie stared down at his own scrawl, mouth falling open as he tried to process.

“I said that to you in high school?”

Steve nodded. “In the hall one day. I— I’m sorry I didn’t talk back. I wasn’t… You wouldn’t have wanted me to back then.”

Eddie swallowed hard. No wonder Steve hadn’t acknowledged anything in the boathouse. It would have been chaotic enough without the extra baggage. But if Steve had known for over a year?

“Did you not want me?” he asked before he could think better of it. Eddie tried to cover, tried to make it a joke. “I mean I know I’m a lot. It takes a special person to handle all this. I can see why you thought you weren’t qualified.”

Steve hook his head, but he never looked away. Jesus Christ, that gaze had some intensity. “I wasn’t ready to accept that I could like men. It wasn’t anything personal against you, although I guess since it was you, that made it easier to try and deny. Then I rationalized it by deciding you weren’t the kind of person who would want someone like me anyway. I mean I represented pretty much everything you hated. I figured it was for the best.”

“Best is with you.” Eddie refused to be embarrassed by such an earnest line as he reached forward for Steve’s hand. The way Steve’s face lit up made it well worth it. “I guess I get it. We weren’t meant for each other yet then. But I guess if you needed time to process it, you got to know. That’s… That’s crazy. I will admit to being an occasional skeptic of the universe and all that, but she really did right by us, huh?”

Steve laughed and squeezed Eddie’s hand. “I guess it did.”

Silence fell between them, but the air was a contented one, not awkward, as they looked at each other. Every once in a while, Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, and Steve squeezed it back.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie eventually asked, shy in a way he usually wasn’t. But this was his soulmate. He needed to do things right, and that was hard when he couldn’t even lean forward of his own accord right now.

Steve got the message, shifting closer to lean over the bed even as he nodded. His free hand came up to cup Eddie’s jaw. They stayed like that for a moment, just watching the other. Then Steve closed the distance.

Eddie’s eyes fell closed as he felt Steve’s thumb swipe over his cheek. Soon soft lips pressed against his. Gentler than Eddie had expected, Steve coaxed his mouth open. Slow and tender weren’t words Eddie would typically associate with a kiss this intense, this filthy. His own free hand came up to clutch at Steve’s shoulder. Their intertwined hands squeezed so tightly, Eddie wondered if Steve’s nails would leave marks on the back of his hand.

Eventually they broke apart, breathing hard as Steve stayed mere inches away.

Never to them, Eddie’s heart rate monitor gave away everything about how he was feeling.

Steve let out a chuckle, and Eddie started laughing harder. Steve leaned in to press one last kiss against the corner of Eddie’s open mouth before he sat back down in his chair.

Eddie sighed dramatically, staring off into the middle distance for effect. “King Steve indeed. My soulmate is an excellent kisser.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his smile and the way his hand tightened on Eddie’s gave away his amusement. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself, Munson.”

“Oh Stevie,” Eddie cooed. “I think we’re past last names, don’t you?”

“Eddie,” he said, raising both brows.

“Perfect.”

Eddie lifted their joined hands to coax Steve forward again, but the door opened instead.

Steve was sitting facing the door, so nothing blocked their little hand-holding moment from the gaggle of children at the door.

Eddie glanced at the kids, then Steve, whose eyes had gone wide.

“What are you…” Dustin trailed off as he took in their bare wrists. He glanced at Eddie’s face, then Steve’s. “Holy shit!”

Eddie winced at his volume.

That seemed to be enough to spur Steve into action. He sat up straighter and leveled his most withering stare in the kids’ direction. “Eddie just woke up. You need to keep your voice down, or I’m kicking you out, Henderson.”

“Who put you in charge?” Dustin shot back automatically, but he took a few steps into the room.

“I did,” Eddie said. His voice was gravelly, and he planned to blame lack of use, not Steve’s proximity.

“We see that,” Lucas said with a snort as he marched forward to lay claim to the other chair in the room.

Mike rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Seriously? We’re gone for like two hours, and this happens? How is that even possible? You’ve already talked to each other. You guys don’t make any sense together!”

“Mike,” Dustin warned and glanced meaningfully at the fourth boy, who was gently shutting the door. Based on the bowl cut, Eddie assumed this was the infamous Will.

“What? No!” Mike protested. “It’s not because they’re both guys! It’s because they’re them!”

“Whatever,” Lucas said. “Happy for you guys.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” Steve said. He glared at the other three, as though daring them to say something.

“I think it’s really sweet.” Will crept further into the room and paused at the end of Eddie’s bed.

“Will, right?” Eddie asked.

He nodded shyly.

“I’m told you’re a great DM.”

Will’s face lit up. “They said that?” He glanced around the room, and all three shrugged in agreement at various levels of sheepishness. “Thanks.”

Steve looked at him for a moment. “I don’t suppose you took up swimming in California, did you?”

Will shook his head.

Steve sighed glumly and looked toward Lucas. “Well, I got one.”

Lucas let out a bark of laughter as Dustin said, “Hey!” very indignantly.

Eddie laughed too and squeezed Steve’s hand.

Their eyes met again, and as a silent moment passed between them, Mike let out a fake retching sound.

“Shut up, Mike,” Will said as he sat down at the end of the bed.

“Yeah, Mike,” Dustin repeated and he moved over to sprawl on top of Lucas in the chair.

Mike rolled his eyes but he came forward to join Will at the foot of the bed.

“El still up with Max?” Steve asked.

The boys all nodded. “Yeah,” Dustin said. “Nancy and Robin should be here soon. They were going to stop by Gareth’s on the way by. My mom said he called the house to check in on everything, so they were going to read him in on what they could.”

Steve made a noise of understanding. “He’s going to be confused as shit. That’s fine. It’s normal.”

“Normal?” Eddie repeated. “How is any of this normal?”

“It’s a new normal,” Steve said, giving his hand another squeeze. “You’ll get used to it, babe.”

And even as the boys around them protested the word babe being applied to Eddie around their precious ears, he wished he had the strength to lean forward and kiss Steve right now, their precious eyes be damned.

It was fine. They’d have plenty of opportunity later when the teens all left.

Based on the look in Steve’s eye, he was thinking the same thing.

[erisluna35ocblog]

Timeline for my OC's ML AU:

When it comes to timelines, I prefer to play it lose. No specific dates outside the occassional holidays and character birthdays. Just vague mentions of how it happened in a certain month or season at best. For my fic BTaL, it goes for a 13 episode structure per season, like an anime. Each episode is around 30K words, give or take 5K. I estimated the story to be about a year long. Here's the draft of how the timeline is planned with some explanations for episodes that break the order:

Origins:

Early September, tail end of summer. It's the first day of school. Kept as a separate fic in both ff.net and Ao3 as this is meant to be like a special. An outlier from the seasons.

S1 Episode Slumber:

A flashback episode that happens across October. Shizuke and Blair spent a month arguing. They were super stubborn. Mentioned All Soul's Day/Day of the Dead in one segment of the epilogue. Meant to establish that Shizublair had already been through a fair amount as partners during the 1st half of S1.

S1 proper:

January to May. Holidays that will be covered: Valentine's Day, Mother's Day and Japan's Golden Week, which Shizuke's birthday (May 4) falls right in the middle of. Plenty of mentions from Shizubug how he and Blaircat have been partners for four going on five and so on months cause the dork counts the days he's together with his partner. There's also Keagan's aunt getting married to their homeroom teacher which was explicitly said was gonna happen around Spring, and a Spring Beauty Pageant and maybe April Fools gets a referrence.

S2 1st half:

Covers June for Summer Vacation. They end their school year off screen between S1 finale and S2. There's a minor timeskip of about a week or two filled in within the first episode's montage on how the team adjusted to the changes post S1 finale brought - its a slow month of just these guys adjusting to S1 finale dropping a bomb on their lives. The twins' birthday (June 13) acts as a mid season finale.

N2CatS:

Set in late June, a week after the twins' birthday. It's the future side's defining event for N2CatS - set up as the reason behind their status quo shift in this fic that's changed a lot from where I currently left BTaL off. The story is meant to be a week long but each day is packed. I'm planning to slow or speed up pacing depending on the day. Its meant to be a mini series special, and can be read as a stand alone unlike the rest of the series. The only holiday mentioned here is the completely made up Helios City Founding Day.

S2 2nd half:

Set from July to August. I'm seriously considering splitting S2 into two separate stories in ff.net while Ao3 gets a disclaimer to read N2CatS first before reading this half of the season. This half is building up to enrollment as both heroes are confronted with whether they should stay in Xyril Tech or not. The start of senior high is a metaphor for a huge turning point - them deciding to stay or not can change everything. The subplot here will also shift focus to Fiona as her arc sets up S2's finale.

S3 Episode White Knight:

Another flashback episode. Most of it is set on Keagan's Birthday (August 21), over a week before S3's debut episode starts. This episode ends with an epilogue from Keagan's perspective that goes on until a couple of weeks after Heroes Anniversary, wrapping around S3's 1st episode like canon MLB's Multiplication wrapped around Destruction and a special. This explains the shift in Keagan for S3, which happened because of the end of Fiona's arc last season, hence the weird placement. It covers the last week before the 1st day of school properly starts and all the stuff Keagan arranged leading up to it, like how everyone on the heroes team are now on the same class and why Keagan is the class president instead of Shizuke. Much like the S1 finale, S2 finale brought another huge shift in the status quo.

S3 Proper:

Starts in early September. Going full circle from Origins, it's supposed to be the first day of school but that's delayed in favor of their current heroes' anniversary. Establishes that a year has passed since the heroes came to be. The season goes from September to early December. The Day of the Dead will be covered and it'll act as the start of the countdown to the finale. It was snowing in the finale, so it was definitely winter...

Side Notes:

This fic series doesn't have a Christmas Special. I just couldn't come up with anything fun for that besides this one skit I might just draw or write as a drabble someday.

Fiona, Natalia and Damien's birthdays are skipped. Nothing major happened so let's just say they celebrated in peace. Sorry for the other half of the cast.

I keep holidays to a bare minimum or use mostly made up holidays to justify events to avoid the same timeline trap canon mlb has.

Their own take on the Paris Special (Reverse AU Crossover) is considered. I'm not sure, I like it enough as its own thing and leaving it as scattered concepts. But if it were to ever happen in the series proper, I'd place it somewhere in early S3. Its mainly to better parallel the Ladybugs and Fiona. Prime!Fiona got to temporarily be Ladybug for S2 finale 2-parter, it feels more effective if this special happened after that as the Ladybug from the other world is Reverse!Fiona. This special feels more like Shizuke's N2CatS.

I've also considered a future sequel series but ugh at this point I'd just be happy if I could finish S1 and N2CatS at all.

[blorbologist]

Hi!!! I love your One For Sorrow stories - your writing is incredible!! If you're still doing the Valentine's Day shorts, could I request one for either Perc'ahlia in the M9 (early-ish campaign as I'm still watching it) or anything Gilmore/Vax/Keyleth? Thanks!! <3

Hey anon! Thank you so much, you made my day! <33

This is some Gilmore/Vax/Keyleth, though focused more on Kiki and Gil because I had an Idea and this could be part of a bigger fic! Sorry it's... a lil angsty, because Whoops!

Scanlan has been breathing again for maybe fifteen, twenty minutes when Keyleth finds Gilmore.

“He’s alive again,” she says before he can ask. And then she tosses a tooth on the coffee table. 

Gilmore is unusually quiet as he picks it up and turns it over. The root is puckered with craters from Melora’s devouring curse, but the enamel otherwise did a good job of resisting long enough for Keyleth to collect a few handfuls. 

“... The groove near the point is intriguing,” Gilmore murmurs. He runs a thumb lightly over the serrated inner edge. Hissing when it cleaves a neat red line in the meat. “Am I to assume the owner was venomous?”

“This was Raishan’s.” 

His eyes widen. Which, fair: as stunted as she was from her disease, Raishan was still an ancient green. Was - it feels so good to put her in past tense. She had massive fangs that could fit neatly to Keyleth’s forearm. Those were too big to pry out in a rush. A blessing, then, that the monster had a second set of teeth along the palate. 

Mostly used them for talking, until she couldn’t - it was those claws that did the dirty work. It’s those that killed Percy. And Scanlan. 

It’s… that’s another thing she can leave behind in the past. Her friends, dead, again. 

Which is why she’s here.

“I have seven more,” says Keyleth. “Dragonbone is inherently magical, right? And Raishan could cast, too.”

Gilmore nods. “What are you looking to do with them?”

Keyleth’s chest rattles with her sigh. “I don’t - I don’t know, Gil! Something! She killed them, and everyone keeps dying, and I - I just don’t want it to happen again.” She crumples onto the couch beside him. 

Carefully, he loops an arm over her shoulder. Not like she might break, but like she might buck him off. They haven’t had much of a chance to talk, since she and Vax and he and Vax and whatever that made she and he. It was a lot. Everything was a lot. Lots of a lot. 

“I’m not quite the person to stay death,” Gilmore hums, a touch wry. “But - hm. I’m pretty sure I can make something of this that can help.” 

There’s quiet as, one-handed, he spins the fang. His bloody thumb draws two runes, drafts or ideas maybe, before it tires of bleeding. With his other he rubs soothing circles into Keyleth’s shoulder. It’s nice. 

She can’t let it stay nice. Scanlan was dead. Percy was dead. A couple of days ago Scanlan and Vex were dead. And before that Percy was dead. And before that -

“You know - you know -” Keyleth stops herself. It takes a few more passes of Gilmore’s fingers before she finds breath to continue. “Vax and I. I mean - we’re the only ones who haven’t died yet. And I don’t - I don’t know when that luck will run out, Gil.”

“Darling, I doubt the gods themselves could strike you down,” he declares. “As for Vax’ildan…” Now his strokes stutter. 

“I’ll get these done.” Promised instead, because they both know what Vax is like. Death dances with him, moth to a flame, forever unclear which is which until something stops moving. Maybe here it’s the light-lustful bug that will snuff out its damnation. Maybe.

Keyleth struggles to swallow. “Thanks, Gil. Do you mind if I just -”

“Not at all,” Gilmore chuckles, and they hug and stare at the tooth. Turning, so slowly, it’s hard not to see the blood far older than the sorcerer’s embedded in its serrations. 

(Scanlan, or Percy, or maybe her own?)

[chaosangel767]

The meaning of Love

Fandom: Ikerev

Prompt: Be my Valentine 2.0 event I am co hosting with @xxsycamore “I knew I could find you at our secret spot” & "You taught me the meaning of love."

Pairing: Luka x F!MC

Type: SFW Bittersweet Angst - Please read tw

CW: Death, major character death, grief

WC: 850+

AN: Over a year in the works, I kept pushing this fic off. “Maybe next event” the fic forever changing to match the event and the seasons. I finally was able to get the words on the page, Ikerev being discontinued made this fic even harder to write. This is connected to my angst fic Pyrrhic. Please pay attention to the warnings before reading.

Tagging: @thewitchofbooks ​ , @queen-dahlia ​ , @kissmetwicekissmedeadly ​ , @aquagirl1978 , @devildomwritersposts , @canaria-blackwell , @ikesimp100 , @kpop-and-otome ​ , @sarahann-1984 , @citizensofcradle , @littlewitty , @curious-skybunny , @lordsisterxotome , @ikehoe , @psychodreamer666 ,  @kkkramba , @keoshii - If your name is crossed out I was unable to tag you. If you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know or fill out this form here.

Duties. 

Cooking. 

Training. 

Repeat.

Nothing was the same without her, nothing brought him joy anymore. The Jack of Spades just goes through the motions, even the joy of cooking for others seeming to vanish since that day. Never daring to stop, Luka pushes himself, wanting to keep the taunting memories away. Part of his mind always expects her to come bursting into the kitchen, his ears waiting for the sound of her gentle knocks when the rest of the base is asleep. Instead, her necklace is a heavy weight around his neck, a constant reminder that she is gone.  

Hurrying away from the army base, Luka makes his way down a barely traveled path, his feet never more sure of the footing. Carrying a bouquet of flowers and a gentle smile, he enters the fields of flowers, barely able to make out the figure standing on the other side of it. 

“I knew I would find you at our secret spot” Luka murmurs as he approaches, his voice breaking the silence of the serene meadow. Turning to meet him, Alice’s eyes brighten at the sight of her lover. 

“Luka, I thought you weren’t going to come” Reaching her hand out to him, Luka’s eyes close automatically as she touches his cheek. He can feel her fingers caress his skin, the breeze around them picking up. 

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself” she scolds, voice much softer than it used to be. She studies him carefully, the light of the setting sun frames her face, making her look like an angel. 

“It has been hard without you around.” Luka admits softly, his eyes glance down, and Alice gently lifts his chin back up. 

“I know it's hard, Luka, but the Black army needs you now more than ever. They need to know that Cradle is going to be okay.” Her words bring a rueful smile to Luka’s lips. 

“I always admired you for that” Luka murmurs, and Alice turns to him, tilting her head. 

“What?” 

“Your selflessness. Even now you worry about everyone but yourself” Luka sighs heavily, his hands tracing the bouquet, before he hands it to her. “We miss you a lot”  He notices the pain that flickers in her gaze, a lonely look that is gone in the blink of an eye. Giving him a soft smile, she leads him  to the edge of the cliff, sitting amongst the flowers and grass. 

Luka follows suit sitting next to her, both keeping their gaze on the port of Black Territory and the sun setting in the horizon. 

“How is everyone holding up? I miss you guys so much” Alice asks, worry etched on her face.

“Its so quiet now. Ray locks himself mainly in the office. He is always doing paperwork or running the units through training. It is a struggle to get him to take any time off, whenever he is off he goes to the gun range. Sirius hasn’t changed much on the outside, but he never seems to stop. All he does is worry over Ray and I, making sure the army is taken care of. He is always busy too, none of us have really been sleeping, when we do we are haunted by that day.” Luka admits, and Alice lets out a soft sigh. Her hand reaches out to cover his, scars running across their skin. 

“Alice?” Luka’s voice is near silent, the question heavy on his mind. 

“Yeah?” 

“Would you do it again?” Luka asks, and Alice pauses, knowing there is more on the Jack’s mind. “I have gone over the day over and over, but I can’t find a way to make this different, a way to change the outcome. I can’t tell where we went wrong, or how it came to this. I feel so helpless.” Lukas hand clenches into fists at  his side and Alice gently covers them. 

“I wouldn’t change a thing, we couldn’t. We planned the best we could with the information we had. I would give my life again if it meant keeping Cradle safe.” Alice gives Luka a warm smile, and his heart wrenches. 

“But I lost you-”  pressing her fingers against his lips, Alice shushes Luka.  Her fingers trail to the necklace he wears around his neck, and she presses a kiss to it. 

“I am right here. I’ll always stay with you and whenever you need a little strength just squeeze this. You are so strong Luka, so caring. Please take care of Cradle, I’ll always be here watching when you need me.” The pain and conviction in her eyes spoke the words that she couldn’t. Pressing closer to him, she reaches up on her tippy toes. Closing his eyes, Luka reaches down, eyes fluttering open when the wind brushes them instead of a kiss. The spot in front of him was vacant. Looking around at the empty meadow,reality slowly sinks in bringing back the heavy weight to his mind. 

Tears blur his vision as he sinks next to the grave on the edge of the cliff. His fingers trace the engraving over and over, eyes too blurred to see the writing he knew was there. 

Alice the Second - Protector of Cradle 

“You taught me the meaning of love. I will never forget you. Cradle will never forget you.” 

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Carpe Diem - Chapter 4

Pairing: Sketchbook (Kaisa/Johanna)

Summary: Carpe diem: one of the five latim mottos of the arcadist, or neoclassical movement. Literally translates to "seize the day"

Picking up where Locus Amoenus left off, this fic follows the lives of Kaisa and Johanna for a couple weeks as their feelings grow and develop. At some point there will be a couple of weeks of hiatus, but for now this fic will be updated weekly.

Notes: Happy Valentine’s day! This is your reminder to go reblog aromantic stuff because they deserve to be trending. It’s the smallest compensation we can give them for putting up with our bs (and also objectively funny)

Most of Kaisa’s plushies are ones that I have in real life, you should find them easily enough by looking them up on the internet, but the catowl one comes from the fan made familiar that hilda tumblr gave her! Link to the original post: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/waddles-ex-machina/180462531236

This is another one of those chapters that became too big and had to be cut in half, so there will be a second chapter this week as well but then 2 or 3 weeks of hiatus for reasons beyond my control :’)

Read it on ao3 or read the first installment on this verse or read the second installment on this verse

When Kaisa was dropped off at her house that night, Tildy was in the kitchen giving their dinner its last touches, and Frida was by her side at the sink, washing the dishes that their mother had used to cook.

“Welcome back, sugar pie!” The greeting reached Kaisa’s ears as soon as she turned to lock the front door. Sometimes she swore Tildy had supernatural hearing to go with all the other clearly out of the ordinary things about her. “How was it?”

“Pretty nice.” She said as she dropped her bag with two small candles carefully on the sofa. Later, she’d pick it up and put the candles in her room, where she could feel soothed by their scent while she studied, but for the moment being she let them lie there while she headed for the kitchen.

“Is that so?” Tildy prompted, sounding amused as Kaisa walked closer to give her a kiss on the cheek. Kaisa hummed an affirmative sound as she moved to do the same with Frida.

“Did she comment on your makeup?” Frida asked to Kaisa’s back while she rose on her tiptoes to put the honey jar she’d acquired in the overhead cabinets. Considering this was a house of pygmies, it felt like a really bad design flaw that those had been built so far above the ground.

“Not really. She only told me I looked nice when I got in the car.”

Honey safely tucked away, Kaisa put herself by Frida’s side and picked up the kitchen towel to dry the dishes she was washing.

“And was that the actual word she used?”

“I don’t know.” Kaisa shrugged as if she couldn’t see why that was relevant, failing to notice how Tildy hovered over the kitchen door with a tray, not wanting to go place it on the table and miss the gossip. “I think what she said was ‘so beautiful’, but she’s very polite. It is a very nice set of clothes you picked for me, anyhow.”

Though Kaisa couldn’t see it, Tildy looked like she would slap her own forehead if she wasn’t holding a hot tray, and Frida craned her neck to give her an “I told you so” look.

“Sure, Kai.”

They were sitting around the table in no time, and even though Kaisa didn’t think the single pastry she’d eaten earlier at the market was enough to sate her hunger for the entire evening, there was a nervous, coiling feeling in her stomach that made Tildy’s delicious cooking not look so inviting. She still grabbed some of the rice with lentils and the mix of steamed legumes, though, even if only in order to not worry her family.

“This Johanna sounds lovely, sugar.” Tildy said at one point, after they’d asked her to narrate her afternoon. Kaisa didn’t understand why they were so interested. They’d all been at the market a couple of times before, even if usually it was to accompany Tildy on her search for cooking ingredients. “You should invite her over sometime.”

Chewing on a mouthful of legumes, Frida nodded at Tildy’s suggestion, making Kaisa lift an eyebrow.

“Really? Would that be okay?”

Truth be told, she’d been daydreaming about inviting Johanna for a visit for a couple of weeks now. Not only did it feel appropriate, since by now she’d already seen her house and spent lovely times in it, but also she realised she wanted Johanna to meet those spaces that were essentially hers. She wanted her to meet her family and see where she’d come from and where she wanted to go. At this point, she already knew she could trust her with those bits of herself and know that they would be treated gently.

Tildy looked at Frida before answering, but quickly saw that the two of them were in the same boat. She wasn’t inviting anyone into her home without both of her daughters being fine with it, of course.

“Oh, yes! Any friend of yours is welcome here, you know this.”

With her fork, Kaisa pressed down on the small mount of rice with lentils, making it crumple. “Could I invite her over for lunch next Saturday, then?”

Both of them assured that yes, of course, that would be just fine. As Kaisa continued to daydream about having Johanna meet her lovely family, said lovely family stared at each other like a war had just begun.

“Get ready to lose.” The stubborn set of Tildy’s jaw and the furrow between her white eyebrows said.

“You wish.” Frida’s relaxed face and confident smirk answered.

Next Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

                                                     ………

The invitation had been popped shyly by Kaisa the following Tuesday, when they were walking from their seminar to Johanna’s house. Edmund said he’d be out working on the project he begrudgingly took part on, so they decided to take the opportunity to be there without bothering anyone. Johanna had, of course, enthusiastically agreed, and spent the rest of the day feeling lighthearted about having been asked to go to Kaisa’s house and take part in one of their family programs.

Now, standing on the last one of the circular stone tiles that traced a path from the sidewalk to their front door, Johanna wondered where that excitement had gone, and how it had turned into such dread. The butterflies in her belly sounded more like a swarm of wasps, now.

Wasps serve a crucial role in the ecosystem, her cousin’s voice in her head reminded her. They’re pollinators, and do pest control, as well as decompose biomass. You’re not in bad company, even if it feels uncomfortable.

Doing her best to allow the metaphor to steel her nerves, Johanna took a deep, steadying breath and knocked three times on the door.

There was the sound of some commotion coming from inside the house, though Johanna couldn’t make out any specific words, and soon the door swung open to reveal a satisfied looking girl with a messy, curly bun atop of her head.

“Good afternoon!” She greeted politely. “You must be Johanna.”

“I am!” Frida stepped aside to allow her in, and Johanna bowed her head slightly in thanks. “Frida, am I right? I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s lovely to meet you at last.”

A mischievous spark was lit in Frida’s eyes when she answered. “I could say the same.”

Before Johanna had the chance to think too much about how Kaisa apparently talked about her to her family, she heard the noise of frantic feet on wooden boards just before the girl herself appeared at the back of the corridor Johanna was standing in. Her face was flustered, and her hair was still wet, the strands falling straight on the sides of her face without their usual volume. She still looked cute as hell.

“Anna! Sorry, I was just finishing getting dressed. I see you’ve met my sister.”

Johanna, turned towards Kaisa as she was, didn’t really understand the tone with which Kaisa had said that last sentence, nor did she understand the glare that she was giving the child, but that was mostly because she couldn’t see the knowing smirk on the child’s face.

“Sure took your time with it, Kai.” Frida said sweetly. “Never saw you dress so nicely when we had guests over.”

Kaisa was, indeed, looking very nice. She wore a plain grey shirt under a fluffy looking cardigan with a checked pattern, and her skirt had a whimsy embroidered pattern. Her leggings were also grey, and her shoes were black buckled doll shoes. Though Johanna was biassed to say so, because she always thought that Kaisa looked gorgeous, the clothes suited her very nicely, so she didn’t get why she seemed annoyed that her wardrobe choices had been pointed out.

“I like to switch things up.” She hissed through clenched teeth and pink cheeks. Any signs of irritation had vanished when she turned her eyes to the guest.

“Tildy is still working on lunch, but would you like to come meet her?”

“Of course!” Even though Frida had been nice enough, the wasps returned as if on cue at the prospect of meeting Kaisa’s mother. “I’d love to.”

After smiling at her, Kaisa guided her through the entrance corridor, which ended with a staircase to an upper floor to the right, just beside a passage that led to another room. Though the door to said room was only half open, she could see stacks of books inside, and made a mental note to ask Kaisa about it later. They turned the opposite way, to the left and into a cosy living room. It had a fireplace and a couch, as well as one well loved armchair and a coffee table at the centre. On the wall behind the seats, there were some majestic paintings of viking boats, but the eyes of any observers would immediately be drawn to the large framed picture of a teenager Kaisa reading to a much younger Frida. The sight of it alone was enough to ease Johanna’s nerves.

A doorless passageway separated the living room from the eating area, where a glass door to the backyard let sunlight in, illuminating the long wooden table with eight places on it. She didn’t have any time to look out into their garden, though, because Kaisa kept moving to a door that, when opened, released a delicious cheese scented steam into the air, making the mouths of them both water.

“Johanna’s here.” Kaisa said briefly to the person inside, and not two seconds later the woman came out.

Tildy was not at all how Johanna had imagined. She was much better, in every way. Even if all that Kaisa had told her about her led her to believe she’d given her children a healthy upbringing, she could never help but wonder where Kaisa’s rigidness and obsession with perfection had come from.

Probably not from here, she concluded as the grandmotherly looking woman walked over to her wiping her hands on her (no longer) white apron, all smiles and sweet words.

Once introductions had been made and Tildy had assured her, profusely, just how long she’d been wanting to meet her and the amount of good she did to Kaisa, she suggested she showed Johanna around while the meal wasn’t yet ready. All the while, the girl herself had been looking like all she wanted to do was bolt and hide behind anywhere big enough to conceal her face. While they both offered to stay and help however they could, the woman insisted on it, asking simply that they called for Frida to come help set the table. Which was just as well, because Johanna herself had been beginning to feel like she needed to bury her face in her hands and scream. Maybe it was a family thing to want to drive her crazy.

Kaisa took her wrist, making her feel like little bolts of electricity were shocking her wherever their skin made contact, and led her away with urgency. Before they had left the room, however, she gestured to the glass door.

“I’m looking forward to showing you outside later.”

Frida was in the living room when they arrived there again, and her sister briefly told her to go help with the table. She went without a problem, but not before smiling at Kaisa and Johanna’s linked hands.

“The living room is probably… self explanatory.” Kaisa said, then pointed to the wall with the paintings. “Tildy got those as a gift from the artist who illustrated one of the editions of her books. I don’t know if I ever mentioned this, but she used to research Scandinavian history before retiring.”

Johanna would most certainly take her time to appreciate the technique behind those paintings later, but Kaisa had already moved on. She showed her the family pictures on the mantelpiece, telling the history behind the ones that Johanna asked about. It was all very sweet, and she cooed several times while listening. It was hard to think of any families she’d ever met that loved one another as much as this one seemed to.

Even if they had apparently taken the day to get on Kaisa’s nerves, if Johanna was reading the situation even remotely correctly.

When they walked away from the living room again and Johanna asked what was in the room full of books, Kaisa smiled brightly and ushered her in with excitement.

“It’s our little library!” She declared as she held the door open for Johanna. “Originally, it was just Tildy’s office, but when I took to reading she installed more shelves and added a beanbag so I could keep her company while she worked. And then Frida came, hence the second beanbag.”

The room had an hexagonal shape, and every wall was lined with shelves from floor to ceiling, save for a space for a big window. There was a desk with a typewriter, pens, and a comfortable looking chair tucked under it, and in front of it two beanbags: one purple and the other blue. It was majestic. The sort of thing she was not at all surprised to find in Kaisa’s home.

A tiny snoring sound drew Johanna’s attention to the fact that, beside the desk, there was a dog bed with a little creature soundly asleep in it.

“That’s Cornelius.” Kaisa said when she noticed Johanna looking at it. “He’s been Tildy’s since before I arrived. Good thing that he’s sleeping right now, he can be a bit… much, when awake.”

“He’s so cute!” It was true, even if Johanna couldn’t quite understand what position the dog was even laying in. Was that his head or his belly? He didn’t look like any dog she knew, more like a cloud who had gained free will and moved into an elderly lady’s home. “What breed is he?”

Kaisa blinked, as if it had never occurred to her to ask that question before. “I have no fucking idea.”

When she led her guest up the stairs, Johanna realised that that was where all the bedrooms were. Walking forward a couple of steps when they arrived at the upper floor, Kaisa’s was to the left, exactly above the library.

Holding the door open for her, Kaisa gestured for Johanna to follow inside. As soon as she did, she was struck by the distinct scent of lavender and green tea; she’d never been able to pinpoint what Kaisa smelled like from their brief hugs, only that it was pleasant, but stepping into a space that was entirely hers made it much more prominent. She could also see where the scent came from: there was an empty tea mug on her disorganised desk, along with scattered notes and an open book filled with highlights and annotations, and on the table by the side of her corner bed there was a mason jar with some fresh stems of lavender.

Johanna felt like she’d stepped into the room of a ghibli character.

“Sorry for the mess.” Closing the door behind her, Kaisa apologised, referring to the couple of clothes laid out on the bed and the remains of frantic revising on the desk. As she did so, she scratched at the silver band on her left middle finger with her right index one. A gentle breeze was coming in from the open window, making Johanna long to settle with a book on the cushioned windowsill seat. “Lost track of time this morning and forgot to put my stuff away.”

Johanna turned to her with a sympathetic smile. “Hey, we’re friends! You don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me. When people like each other, they enjoy even the messy parts, right?”

Just when Kaisa felt like she’d finally stopped blushing due to Tildy’s extremely unsubtle comments to Johanna, here she was, feeling her face heat up again. She really didn’t understand why, and blamed it on her friend being one of the only people she’d ever met to accept her so easily, and not be afraid to say it.

“Right. Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Likewise, by the way. I bumped into Edmund the other day on campus, he said you’d been stressed about that cake you baked us not turning out how you wanted. You don’t have to try to impress me, I’m impressed enough already.”

Now Johanna didn’t know if the correct reaction to this was murdering her cousin in his sleep or bursting up into flames, but she somehow managed to keep it together and just smile at her friend. She turned away to pretend to analyse the room further, feeling her heart beating faster.

It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? That Kaisa would say something like this, and that all of her family would act like they were aware of something Johanna wasn’t and use it to drive them both mad? Maybe Johanna’s hope was making her connect all the wrong dots to draw a completely false picture - heavens knew it wouldn’t be the first time - but it had to mean something, right?

Her corner bed was couple-sized, which had Johanna wondering if Kaisa was a ‘starfish’ sleeper and actually needed all that space, or if she was a ‘cocoon’ and simply occupied a ridiculously small part of the bed. Either way, it looked like she wasn’t the only occupant of that space, because a couple of stuffed animals laid atop of it.

Johanna walked closer to them in order to inspect her collection. She recognized a butterfly with floppy blue wings, a squishmallow stylised like the Boogie Man from Nightmare Before Christmas, a pink axolotl, a pokemon whose name she didn’t know (but Edmund would certainly be able to tell her instantly) with a pikachu face on its head and two little eyes where she supposed its belly should be. There was only one she couldn’t understand. It was black, very much so, but it looked like a hybrid between a cat and an owl.

“These are so cute!” Johanna craned her neck to look back at her, noticing a flash of relief cross over her face. Was she expecting judgement for her stuffed collection, Johanna wondered. Because if she was, she was going to personally hunt down whoever gave her the idea that it was something to be ashamed of. “Can I pick one up?”

“Of course.”

Johanna took the cat/owl hybrid in her hands to inspect it more closely. It had big eyes and feathery wings, as well as soft plumes through the course of its tail. Two white fangs were embroidered poking out of its mouth.

“This one’s cute! What is it?”

“That’s Freya!” Kaisa explained as she stepped to Johanna’s side, happy to have been asked about it. “She’s a catowl. She’s… not real, obviously. When I was little I’d ask Tildy to make up stories for me, and she one day told me one about the adventures of a catowl cub. I became obsessed with it and constantly asked her to tell me more of them. So for my birthday, she commissioned someone to sew it for me. I’ve had many stuffed animals in my life, most of which I donate when I feel like it’s time they move on, but this one I’ve always refused to let go of.”

It was only by a miracle Johanna wasn’t tearing up when she thanked Kaisa for the story. Seriously, there was something about that family that made Johanna feel like vomiting a rainbow. If she wasn’t head over heels for one of her daughters, she might just run downstairs and beg Tildy to adopt her too, nevermind that she was legally an adult already.

Placing Freya back on the mattress with the care that she deserved, Johanna turned her gaze to the opposite wall, the one against which the study desk was, noticing that it was covered in framed documents. A quick scan through a couple told her all she needed to know about them.

They were certificates. Of competitions, of successful exams, of course completions, of academic excellence. Just looking at the amount of them felt dizzying, and awakened in Johanna a feeling she would rather not allow to flourish, not in a pleasant moment like this, and not ever.

“Ah.” Kaisa breathed when she followed Johanna’s line of sight. “Sorry. I know this must look self-centred. Tildy encourages me to do it.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think it was.” Johanna said, and then cringed at how robotic her voice sounded for a moment. As her mind processed it, she found she needed to ask for clarification. “You mean she encourages you to do all these things, or to put up the frames?”

“The last one.” She answered readily. Of course, Tildy had always been her number one supporter, and any win she got made her mother so happy for her it might as well have been her own success. But there was always something so sad in the woman’s face whenever she noticed how her daughter brushed off any of those accomplishments, and how quickly she ignored her latest ones to go look for another way to prove herself.

Who it was that she was trying so hard to impress was something Kaisa was still trying to answer.

“So you don’t forget how much you have done already.” Was the answer she’d gotten when she was a teen and had asked why Tildy insisted on putting them up. She’d accepted that explanation, and allowed the woman to do as she pleased; it wasn’t like she had been using that wall for anything else, anyway. There had been one time, however, in which she’d gotten a reply that was slightly different, a moment in which Tildy had let her worries slip from her.

She’d been about to put up the framed certificate of a weekend course which Kaisa had skipped her last High School dance to attend. It had caused some trouble between her and the girl she’d agreed to attend with, but it wasn’t like she could force Kaisa to go when she didn’t want to anymore. The girl hadn’t spoken to her again after that day, but Kaisa told herself she preferred being alone, anyway. When Tildy had walked into the room to do it, Kaisa had been studying at her desk, not failing to notice the tight lines on her face. She’d ever gently given her daughter her opinion on not showing up to an important milestone in order to study when Kaisa had told her she was planning on doing it, but it hadn’t been listened to simply because Kaisa felt it was something that would look good on her application. So when she walked into the room, Kaisa had quipped.

“Why put it up if you hate it so much?”

The answer she’d gotten was very much not as light hearted.

“Because I keep hoping that when you eventually run out of space on this wall, you’ll finally realise that you can’t fill your life with anything meaningful like this.”

That night, Tildy had walked out of her room with no further comments, leaving behind a Kaisa that was well and truly alone. And the worst thing had been knowing it was her own doing.

She was snapped out of her memories by Johanna’s soft voice, sounding very much like she was having flashbacks of her own.

“There’s one just like this back at my parents’ house.” She said with a ghostly quality to her words, like she was either talking about a dead thing, or about something she hoped was dead. Memories of days spent lying on her bed, hating herself for not managing to study or prepare for an exam floated around her mind, as well as those of nights spent awake at her study desk without remembering to so much as drink water, but Kaisa could see neither. “But it wasn’t for me. It was in the living room, for everyone else.”

Failing to pick up on why that would be something that would bring her distress, Kaisa looked at her with a smile filled with a sense of kinship and pride.

“An overachiever as well, are you?”

“I was.” Still looking at the wall, Johanna answered. Kaisa didn’t think she’d ever seen her sound so sad, and it both baffled her and made her want to do anything to bring back the Golden Retriever she’d known, even if she had to collect every single frame and throw it out of the window. That girl being upset looked like something that should be illegal. “In many ways, still am. But I’ve been working hard to heal.”

Kaisa opened her mouth, meaning to ask why that was something she felt she needed to ‘heal’ from, but for some reason, nothing came out. Maybe she didn’t know how to ask. Maybe she just already knew the answer. Either way, it didn’t last long, because there was a knock on the door that brought them back to reality, and they heard Frida’s voice from the other side.

“Lunch is ready!” She declared, making them switch glances of relief and excitement. Neither had noticed how hungry they were. The fact that it came with an excuse to postpone this conversation was just a bonus.

Looking at her with a mischievous glint in her eyes now, Johanna was about to propose something when she noticed Kaisa was thinking the same thing. They smirked to each other, wondering who would be the one to make the first move.

And set off in a race to the dining room.

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

Ooo. I like the premise you set. It would make a lovely darklina fanfiction. @aleksanderscult - hope you like it my quick fic...

-------------Eternity Begins Today---------------

Aleksander hated St. Valentine celebrations with a vengeance. Everything about the day made him scoff. Now that he has become the Tsar, he actively thinks of banning the day entirely. He has lived way too long for such foolish celebrations. He tried not to roll his eyes at the flower decorations that were now decking the hallways of both the Palaces. Ivan, knowing his aversion to the day, smartly took the planning decisions to Alina. And his little wife in her youthful exuberance has transformed this place to a garden of love. He may not like the day, but he was a thoughtful partner, so he always listened attentively when Alina talked about her ideas. One more day and all this would be over.

He entered his room and found it empty which was strange. Alina always arrived before him for dinner. He checked the bedroom just to be sure and found it empty too. Just when the thought of searching for his wife, Alina herself barged in.

"Sorry. Sorry. I had to finalize the dessert for tomorrow. Did you wait long?" She asked, a little out of breath.

Aleksander might not show it outward but his heart always skipped a beat when he saw her. When he first found her, he dared not to think about love but as time passed he kept falling for her. His heart, for once, did not listen to him and kept reaching for her. He still could not believe that she too loved him back and chose to marry him and promised to help him rebuild Ravka. He tried to show her his love in his own restrictive way but Alina somehow always understood.

"No. I just arrived. Shall I ring for dinner?"

"Yes, Sasha. I'm starving. The whole running around has made me ravenous."

"You don't have to run around, Alina. You have people to do that for you." He pointed out.

"Nonsense. If you want a job well done it's best if you do it yourself. Besides, its our first valentine as husband and wife. I want everything to be perfect."

Aleksander paused. He had not thought that his Alina would want to celebrate the day, unlike him.

"Sasha?"

"Nothing, dear. Let's eat."

As the dinner progressed, Aleksander found himself only partially listening to Alina. Alina has been excited about this day for a week now and he had not planned anything for her. Aleksander is so old that each day is pretty much the same as the next. He found the days of celebrations and feasts pointless and frivolous but not his wife, she loved them and now he is unprepared for tomorrow. He doesn't even remember what husbands gave their wives on Valentine's.

Dinner passed a haze and they retired for the night.

"Love, I have cleared your schedule for tomorrow evening. Will you join me in the garden at 5?"

Now Aleksander felt even more disconcerted. His Alina has planned something for him while he has chosen to forgot the day's existence.

Biting down his rising worry he said, "Sure, dear " Alina beamed at him response and kissed him goodnight.

Alina was sound asleep beside him but sleep evaded him. He kept going over the things that he could gift Alina.

Flowers? - too pedestrian

Jewels? - too flashy

New gowns? - too last minute

Books? - even old Aleksander knew that is not something you gift on St. Valentine.

Horse? Opera? A trip?

Aleksander fell asleep unable to settle on one and the dreadful day dawned bright and early. With each passing hour his dread increased. He did not want to disappoint Alina but he was really out of his depth here.

Finally around four, he swallowed his pride and asked Ivan. Ivan to his credit kept a straight face.

"Fedyor loves teas. There is this one shop near Shu border that makes the best blend. I gift it to him every Valentine. We then share a dinner together with our favourite foods, watching the fireworks." Ivan said.

Great! Shu-Han is too far away to buy tea and return in thirty minutes. Maybe he should fake an emergency and skip it all together. Afterall he is the Tsar and border issues are something he must personally look into.

Before he could make his escape, Alina came to take him to the garden. She looked resplendid as she walked in and he knew he would be disappointing her tonight. She, ofcourse, would not show it but he knew that her young heart would be crushed.

Alina had setup a picnic in a beautiful spot. She had made all his favourite dishes and fed him some. She then reached into the basket and pulled out a plain wooden box with a golden clasp.

He opened it with trepidation and found a pen. It looked much sofisticated than the ones he normally use and the ink well was inside the pen itself.

"I know how much you hate smudges. David assured me that this would leave your hands ink-free. And the best part is, you will no longer get hand cramps. The design is supposed to reduce it." She said with an expectant smile.

Aleksander was speechless. He wanted to say so many things to her. He wanted to show her how much he appreciates her and yet the words would not come.

"I didn't get you anything, Alina." He finally said.

"That's alright."

"No. I... I love you, Alina... I appreciate everything you do for me. It's just that I feel too old for these things. I find them pointless as eternity is a very long time and one point all these days blend together. I just didn't think that I should get you anything." Aleksander finished. He did not mean to open up so much. Those words were difficult to get through. He hoped that Alina would understand him.

"Sasha. I know you love me. I can see it your beautiful grey eyes and you have shown me everyday in the little things you do for me. I know eternity is a long time but doesn't mean we can't create memories. I have never had anyone special in my life to celebrate with and now I have you and I want to create lasting memories with you "

"Alya." Aleksander could not form the right words to respond to her so instead he pulled her in for a sweet kiss. "Thank you."

She smiled and the night ended plesantly.

The next morning Aleksander woke up before Alina and placed a rose beside her pillow. He may have hated St.Valentine before but now he has someone as special as his wife to celebrate with. And starting this day he vowed to open up more to Alina and he vowed to be the person she deserved to be with.

He bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead, promising a happy future.

------------------ The End----------------

Hi there!

First I want to say I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH. <33 anyways. what do you think Aleksander would do for Alina in valentines day?

Anon, thank you so SO much!! 🫶🥹

(No 'cause actually that comment came in the right time because lately I've been debating either having a break or leaving for good😭)

I think I'll disappoint you but I don't think he would anything for her that day 😔

Aleksander is a sarcastic, pragmatic person. He would find that celebration foolish and childish. "People have a day in which they celebrate love with each other? Saints, I can't with their sentimentality.😒". He would just treat it like any other day (kinda mood).

[pseudonympls]

Monday Morning

A/N: This was fully meant to be a drabble and then I decided that it deserved to be a fic in it’s own right - a short one at that, but a fic nonetheless. Happy late valentines day, ya filthy animals 🖤

I intend to start a new multi-chapter endeavour soon, and if you know me by now - I can't release chapter one of a fic without being a good 85% done on the whole thing, sorry, my anxiety just be like that lmao. So I can't promise when the next fic will be out, please take this as a lil token of appreciation for you all 🖤

Rating: Explicit. Facial. swallowing come. blowjob. handjob. vaginal sex. oral sex. Spanking. Light degradation. Established relationship.

Era: Inside

Word Count: 2.8k

* * *

Mornings were often fraught with sticky eyelids, a smidge of melancholy, and bitter black coffee, and this cool, dark, Monday morning was no different. Allowing the cream to displace the tang and the sugar to sweeten the blow was often the best course of action. But today you were all out. Black coffee it was.

Silently cursing your schedule you semi blindly traipsed through the house, trying desperately not to trip on the small fuzzy dog that was circling your ankles.

“Breakfast time, Brucey-boy?” You chimed in your usually animated manner reserved only for him. Bruce’s thick tongue flopping out of his mouth and moving as the tiny dog barked in an answer.

Bruce baulked briefly, his ears turning toward the direction of a sound. A sound he relished as much as you did.

Floorboards creaked under his weight as he galumphed down the stairs and peeled into the kitchen. It was like Bruce had been set with a live wire as he pelted toward him.

Succinctly dishevelled and ruggedly handsome as always, Bo bowed his head to duck under the doorframe - his tall stature so very often lending itself to numerous bumps on the head, scratches and scrapes when he became unaware of his looming size.

“I’m up, I’m up. Brucey want breakfast?!” Bo’s craggy morning voice lit up your insides as he sleepily smiled and came toward you.

Bruce was inconsolable as Bo stood next to you and tried the handle of Bruce’s food cupboard.

Yapping at both of your feet like he hadn’t eaten in days and wasn’t the spoilt, pampered pooch that he was, he circled both your ankles and his paws came to your shins briefly, before Bo took out the dog food and emptied it into Bruce’s bowl, placing it down in its usual spot for Bruce to gorge excitedly on.

“Morning, baby” Bo whispered throatily in your ear as he pressed a soft kiss into the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Morning-I” you started, but Bo cut you off “why’d you leave me in bed like that, huh?” The shiver of his voice and his hand on your waist made you tense your stomach instinctively.

You decided to play dumb. “Whaddaya mean, baby?” You mimicked his pet name for you.

You knew exactly what he meant. About how his thick hard on was pressing into the small of your back as the sun rose, how his fingers trailed up your thigh, slowly - absentmindedly, still half asleep. His subconscious mind replaying old scenes for his enjoyment, bleeding them into the physical world. And how your body responded in kind, feeling his soft breaths lick up against the back of your neck had you wet instantly, feeling how ready he was for you made your body prepare itself for the inevitable. Prepare itself for the taking.

But as he sleepily, lazily thrusted into your back and his fingers traversed your thighs, your eyes found the clock on the nightstand. You begged that each minute that passed would be longer than the one that came before but the world was not so kind. As time edged closer and closer to when your alarm would sound, you got increasingly frustrated at your scheduling. Even working from home you had to be present from a certain time, wiggling your mouse a little as confirmation that you were actually doing work.

Sighing deep, you threw back your side of the covers and were released from his warm, comforting grip and the loss hit like physical pain. You’d only be downstairs on your laptop - but it could have been a world away for all you cared. It wasn’t next to him, limbs interlaced with him. Him sleepily, softly, doing all he could to bring you to the soft, aching early morning sunlight drenched orgasm that you so often coveted on your days off.

Not today, it wasn’t meant to be.

Padding around the house, Bo’s T shirt swinging around your hips as you went about your morning routine. Washing up, checking your phone, making coffee, you went about your morning ritual like normal, until Bo came down to feed Bruce - an unusual turn of events.

Then he was standing next to you - so seldom would he get up at the same time as you - it was surprising to have him next to you in the kitchen at this hour. Your mornings filled with quiet contemplation and one sided conversations with Bruce, abruptly sidelined.

“I mean” he whispered menacingly “why’d you leave me all hot…all hard for you…in bed” the way his lips grazed the tip of your ear had your core turning molten again.

“You know why, Bo, I had to get up for work” - you played along, for now, acting equal parts grouchy, sleepy and aloof, just enough to string him along.

He growled in your ear and he went to grab your coffee cup, saving you both the grief of cleaning it up off the floor.

But he paused. “Huh, no cream? That’s unlike you, to take it raw like that” he chided, attempting to grasp the coffee cup from your belligerent fingers. You were keen to not play into whatever this was. Fun and games were all very well and good, but you had work in half an hour.

Holding on to the coffee cup for dear life you stepped away from him slightly, you weren’t going to give in. Not this time.

“We-we ran out, I’ll go out and grab some more on my break” - the waver in your voice just enough for Bo’s sleepy brain to detect, and he smirked at your poor attempt at a cover up.

“Mmhm, how about I give you some, now?” He mused, his palm resting lightly on the front of his briefs, and your heart soared at the sight of him touching himself.

Your throat made an involuntary clicking noise, an auditory response where a verbal one lacked, and Bo’s smirk grew ever wider, even toothier.

You almost couldn’t believe the words he was coming out with. You knew that he liked to talk dirty, but at seven in the morning? And…to allude to…you shook your head, unable to let your mind wander as the seconds passed by.

“Look, Bo, I’ve got work in twenty minutes, I don’t have time for this, I’m sorry, maybe later…?” You started, having to set your mug down and turn away from him to spare him the blushes that were creeping along your skin - heading directly for your cheeks and neck.

But that was your first mistake.

He pressed up against you, forcing you to the countertop and you exhaled loudly at the shock.

“You’ve got work honey, but I need breakfast first, wouldn’t want me to go hungry…would ya?” He whispered into the top of your head. The cool of the granite worktop seeping through Bo’s T shirt and on to your belly.

“I’ll be quick, don’t worry” he continued, his thick fingers coming to the hem of his old T shirt that you so often wore to bed. He loved to see you in this, enrobed in his belongings. Denoting his possession of you.

His. You were his.

Your breaths were rapidly peeling in and out of your chest as you succumbed to the inevitable, feeling his soft fingers trailing along your sides, down to your behind, cupping your ass before rising back up once again, and pushing your torso down on the countertop. Your pebbled nipples pressing into the cool worktop through the thin T shirt material, his hand remaining in between your shoulder-blades, a silent command.

A reluctant sigh fell from your lips as you heard him kneel down as he palmed your ass, spreading you further, pushing your pubic bone further into the countertop.

“All for me” you faintly heard him whisper, before his mouth came to your pussy. Already dripping wet he groans against you and you let loose a squeal as his tongue parted your sodden lips and pushed inside. Desperate, weak moans met the cool granite of the worktop as he reached a hand around to cup the front of your cunt. Barely any movement, just holding you in place as he tongue fucks you - it wasn’t the first time you were so glad of his sizeable tongue, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Finally, his fingers found your clit, ruminating in slow, tortuous circles as his tongue continued to pulse at your entrance and you couldn’t help but grip on to the other side of the countertop for purchase as you grind against Bo’s face, nestled deep within you as he continued to pleasure you.

If the caffeine wouldn’t have done the job this morning, this sure would have, as Bo ate you out, face down on the worktop, one hand massaging your clit to bliss and the other roughly palming the swell of your behind. You barely realised how loud you were getting, but you were far from caring by now. The pleasure transcended tiredness, and time, work looming in the near future was cast away, as quick as smoke in a swift breeze. Carried away by Bo’s devilish tongue and sweet movements of his fingers. In that moment, you were all his.

Bo started moaning against you and that was the straw that broke the camel's back, and sent you tumbling over the edge as wave after wave of sumptuous delight cascaded over your body, casting a different light over your usually mundane Monday morning activities. Your hand white knuckled on the worktop gently relaxed as the waves ebbed away, replaced with a resplendent feeling of calm and serenity.

Through the bliss you barely heard Bo rise to his feet behind you, dropping his underpants to the floor, and come up behind you, his thick cock pressing between your cheeks.

Your body was limp on the worktop, your chest protesting the hardness of the granite, needing some softness, some give.

Well, Bo was about to give something to you, but it was going to be anything but soft.

His voice ragged with lust, he finally spoke “let’s see what we can do about that cream, huh?” And you felt yourself clench with anticipation.

A whiny moan escaped your throat as he slipped inside. Even with the relaxing effect of your still ebbing peak, he filled you dangerously to the brim, especially at this angle - swiftly bottoming out inside of you with a throaty groan sounding from somewhere near your left ear.

Your insides tingled at the feel of him, how you enveloped him so sweetly inside you, made him feel so good. All worries vacated your mind for the foreseeable as he moved slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the sheer heft of him. He bent down to place kisses along the back of your neck, his chin length, scraggly hair tickling your nape as he pulled away, sending a shiver down your spine.

He giggled as he felt you quake beneath him, speeding up now, his thrusts becoming harder, but also longer. Letting himself almost completely out of you before slamming back into you once more.

Mounting pressure filled your abdomen and your chest, the fat tip of his cock slamming into a new place now, the angle so gorgeously right as every hit massaged that sweet spot that was sure to have you coming again in no time.

Pulling your loose hair into a fisted ponytail you arched your back against him, wanting to feel more of him, wanting him to fill you even more, to press the fronts of his legs against your ass, something - you needed anything.

Through the shuddering breaths you managed to eek out something that resembled begging - "P-please, I need to come"

You heard Bo draw in a laboured breath and chuckle darkly to himself, a brief pause in his movements that you hadn't anticipated.

"So desperate, you just can’t help yourself, can you? You wanna come again? Do you?" he responded through bared teeth, rapidly picking up speed.

"Y-y-yess" you wailed, his subtle words of degradation sending a flaming shock of pleasure radiating through your cunt.

"Go on then, if you're so desperate, come for me, fucking do it" he ordered, and your pliant body, teetering on the precipice, obliged. Each pulse more intense than the last as you gripped his thick cock impossibly hard, a pathetic wail leaving your lips and echoing around the kitchen, even hearing your own desperate wails reflected back at you weren’t enough to make you feel shame in this moment - right then there was only how you tensed around him, his laboured grunts and thrusts nearing their end.

Still reeling, he pulled out of you, sliding your limb body down to the ground, gently lowering you to your knees with one hand, and erratically jerking himself with the other, his face crumpled up in that look you knew all too well.

Blindsided by your own orgasm you melted to the floor, and gladly, innocently looked up at him, the fugg of your own pleasure still hanging low over the both of you - filling the room with the scent of sex and desire, mingling with the smell of freshly ground coffee - the way a morning should smell.

"Oh fuck, so good for me, you gonna open wide, huh?" he started, huffing breaths and jerking himself closer to ruin as you steadied yourself, your palms coming to his hips for balance. You couldn't do anything but nod rapidly, your tongue wetting your bottom lip, readying yourself.

Your fingertips smoothed along his upper legs, trailing to where his thick cock protruded, and he handed you the reins, letting your relatively small hands cover as much ground as you could. One of your hands took care of the base, slowly jerking it as the other came to the tip, the pad of your thumb massaging that sweet spot on the underside of his bulbous head, which made Bo lean his head back in overstimulation, gentle profanities filling the room as you worked.

His thighs tensing near your eyeline you knew that he was close, and you felt yourself squeeze around nothing at his impending peak.

“Fuck yeah, baby…shit” Bo mumbled unintelligable fragments of words as you continued, his eyes shut in concentration just as you were about the unleash your secret weapon.

Rising up on your knees you opened your mouth, ready to surprise him. The pointed tip of your tongue came up to meet the sensitive patch of skin on the underside of his cock and you lapped at it thickly, surrounding the rest of his cockhead with your lips you sucked lightly, prompting Bo’s eyes to fly open and watch you sucking on the tip of him, his blue eyes wide in shock, and in lust. You didn’t once break eye contact, as he pulled back ever so slightly, a beautiful sound erupted from his lungs - somewhere between a squeal and a groan - as he spurted hot come over your face, some flying up to between your eyebrows, and most of it spilling into your mouth and out its corners as he emptied himself into you, on to you. The look on his face something so beautiful, so erotic and filthy - a memory you were sure to hold on to for years to come.

You swallowed what you could and looked up expectantly at him from the floor, his eyes wild and his chest heaving rapidly.

“F-fuck, shit… honey” he managed, bending down to grip on to your hands and pulled you up to stand.

He used both hands to push errant strands of hair out of his face, his blue eyes soft and tempered now, his cheeks blushing pink at the exertion.

You exhaled loudly, feeling the come dripping down your cheeks start to cool, the feeling of it becoming less and less sexy by the second.

“Jeez, you’re a mess, baby, better get you into the shower, don’t you have work in ten minutes?” Bo sneered, pulling you along to the downstairs bathroom and blithely ignoring your faux menacing look, as some of the liquid pooled above your left collarbone, underneath the thin fabric of Bo’s old t-shirt.

“Hmpf, feel like I’ve claimed you as mine, truly marked you as my property, now. Look at you,” he whispered, turning the shower on full blast and removing his own t-shirt, and casting it off to the side.

“I might as well have branded your ass” he growled, as his palm came to collide with your left ass cheek with an almighty smack, and you knew that he had the full intention of branding you, with his handprints.

You would make those precious ten minutes before work, count.

[adarlingmess]

Ugnayan

Summary:

Filipino word, noun: connection between persons, groups, countries, etc.

A collection of works detailing a manananggal clan’s relations with the Treses, and their allies.

III: Hiraya

Summary:

Filipino word, noun: imagination, vision, illusion; the fruit of one’s dreams, wishes, and aspirations; a dream.

Basilio knows there’s a line he’s crossing, and he’s at the point of no return.

Words: 4144

Characters: Basilio, Sabina (OC), Crispin, Hank Sparrow, Alexandra Trese, Anton Trese, Reyna Manananggal, Dominic Villaceran (mentioned only), Mama Grande (mentioned only), Gog (mentioned only)

Relationships: Basilio/Original Female Character

Language: English, with a few Filipino words and phrases sprinkled in.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, discussion about past about non-con

Author’s Notes:

I am: back on my bullshit again (1)

Umagang kay kalat sa inyo, here’s part three of my Basilio x OC fic. Who knows, maybe I’ll write a proper story one day, but right now my Basilio brainrot is back with a vengeance. This was sitting in my hard drive since September and I thought maybe a day before Valentine’s day was a good day to finally post it in public. I couldn’t decide which scene to draw for the art tie-in so I ended up with a two-page comic 😩

Spoiler warning for Verdugo: Takutan because this story heavily references its lore and events! The comics are known to be darker in tone, and so is this fic, so heed the warnings above.

In hindsight, Sabina should’ve saved her last cigarette for later.

Now, she has nothing to calm her down except for the water flowing from the motel’s sink. Gingerly, she presses a finger on a bruised patch of skin on her neck. Even with her regenerative abilities, it’ll take a while to disappear. It’s been a while since her last feeding, too. She’ll need something substantial soon.

It’s fine. The bruises are nothing a little concealer couldn’t fix.

She steps out of the bathroom in nothing but the towel the motel staff provided. The air conditioner’s hum and the idle chatter on the television reached her ears.

The aroma of food reached her nose, and with her eyes, she saw her childhood friend sitting on the bed and helping himself to a chicken leg while watching TV.

“Chicken arrived while you were showering,” Basilio says, grinning at her. “They said the rest of the food will come soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings and Sabina answers it. An order of La Paz batchoy arrived courtesy of room service. She sets it on the table, where more servings of food can be found, and soiled dishes piled up in the corner. Sabina gathers the dirty dishes and hands them over to housekeeping with a quiet thank you.

The kitchen staff wasn’t sure whether they should be grateful for the patronage or frustrated at the volume of orders they received.

Of course a war demigod with an insatiable appetite and a ravenous aswang agreed to order everything on the menu.

Aswang metabolism will burn through all those calories like its paper. Sabina isn’t quite sure why the Kambal requires so much food to function, though. Fond memories of bonding over Hank’s cooking resurfaced.

Maybe she should visit the Diabolical again, this time for pleasure. Hopefully she can still request a plate of spaghetti from Hank, even though the place is a bar now.

Basilio reaches for the other chicken leg and Sabina has no other choice but to swat his hand.

“That’s mine,” she warns him, playfully.

With a pout, Basilio settles on the crispy pata instead. “Ang daya.”

“Anong madaya?” Sab crosses her arms. “You already had the other leg. Takaw mo.” Sabina sits next to him in the bed and helps herself to the food. She finishes the chicken leg in no more than a few bites. Then, she made a quick trip to the table to retrieve the steaming bowl of soup.

Basilio nudges her playfully when she sits back down to eat. “You’re one to talk.”

Sabina laughs and playfully rolls her eyes. She was about to take her first sip when Basilio’s arm quickly shot out to stop her. “Wait, this has garlic in it.”

“Duh, I could smell it cooking from the kitchen while I was in the shower.”

“Isn’t garlic going to hurt you?”

Sabina hums and takes a sip of the broth to show him she’ll be fine. Her face turns red, and not from embarrassment. “See? I’m fine. I’m pretty sure you had spicy food before, right?”

Basilio remembers that time he bit into a slice of siling labuyo in the vinegar that came with Hank’s crispy beef tapa. He nods.

“It burns, right? Garlic’s spicy when I eat it. I’ve built a tolerance to it to blend in with the humans.”

“No wonder smearing crushed garlic on a manananggal’s lower half would kill her. That must be one hell of a burn.”

Sabina laughs at the morbid turn their conversation took. “I mean, if I took crushed sili and smeared it all over a human’s wound, it’s going to hurt too.”

“What about waving garlic around to repel aswang? Why does that work?”

“It’s the same principle as humans cutting onions. It irritates our eyes, but the effect is stronger due to our sharper senses. So yes, before you ask, I could smell your feet the moment you took your shoes off earlier and somehow I still decided to have fun with you.”

Basilio pouts. “Oy! My feet don't-” he takes his foot up to sniff it- “ok, fine, it’s a little funky.”

For the first time in years, Basilio witnesses Sabina roar with laughter, lively and unabashed. “And a little is a lot to us aswang!”

Despite the teasing, Basilio laughs with her.

She rests her chin on his shoulder as she calms down.

A few years ago, she would’ve been resting her chin on Basilio’s head. She used to loom over him; a weeping willow drawn to his more outgoing nature. Then, she stopped growing when she was twelve, while somewhere down the line, the Kambal got a growth spurt and they’re almost a foot taller than her.

Life is unfair.

Sabina finished the last of her soup, and popped a piece of candy in her mouth. Basilio notices it, interest piqued.

“Hey, isn’t that the same candy you used to bring us when we were kids? I missed those.”

“Yeah. This was the last piece I had with me though.”

Basilio smirks. “We could share it.”

“Hay nako, Bas, you…”

Her train of thought stops when a news report interrupts regular programming. News of the stunt they just pulled off reached the airwaves. From the studio, the broadcast transitions to the scene of the incident. Then, it cuts to an angry Gog, Mama Grande’s eldest son, pushing reporters gunning for a statement aside.

Basilio guessed that if her son was pissed, Mama Grande definitely was too.

Sabina grabs the remote and switches it to the music channel.

“Uy, I was watching that!”

“Sorry. Bad memories.”

With a questioning look, Basilio turns to her. “Ex boyfriend?”

Sabina scoffs, furrowing her eyebrows. “Wasn’t even a boyfriend. Send Verdugo my thanks for taking out his eye. I’d say thank you myself, but he might turn me into a leather coin purse.”

“This Gog guy really hurt you badly, huh?”

Basilio guessed that his lady friend was pushing back horrible memories, and he was right.

“Can we drop it? I just don’t wanna see his mug.”

“Okay,” Basilio shrugs. He finishes the rest of his meal and adds the plate to the pile. After washing his hands in the bathroom, he plops next to his playmate.

“Why don’t you look at my mug instead while I make you forget all about him?”

Basilio’s chuckle was almost cruel when he saw Sabina’s eyes widen. The aswang princess is bashful in person compared to her self-assured demeanor when she’s either crooning or shrieking into a mic on the stage, or a gun when she’s perched on a rooftop. She reminds him of the candy she used to give him and his Kuya Crispin when they were young; they impatiently bit through the hard peppermint snaps, only to find molten chocolate in the core.

He buries his nose at the crook of her neck. Sabina smells of soap and that same peppermint candy, layered with hints of vanilla and a floral note he couldn’t quite place.

Basilio wants to eat her all up.

“Wait, you wanna go again? You already finished, Bas. You made me finish twice. Not that I’m complaining...”

Taking the empty bowl from Sabina’s hand, Basilio sets it by the bedside table, and he cages his old friend between his arms.

“Let’s make it even then.” He leans in to croon in her ear. “I still have some fight in me. We can go for a few more rounds if you’re up for it, pillow princess.”

A warm tongue lapping at a darkening bruise on her collarbone makes Sabina shudder. “Brush your teeth before you put your mouth anywhere near my-”

Before they knew it, they’re laying on the bed, an exhausted pile of limbs tangled with each other. Basilio cradles his lady friend’s head on his bicep, and he buries his nose in her messy crown of hair.

There’s blood on the sheets from when Sabina had clawed her lover’s back to shreds. Thankfully, his back has already healed. On the other hand, the loving bruises his mouth left on her skin aren’t going away soon. She’s panting, one leg over his thigh.

“That was not a few more rounds,” Sabina mumbles, catching her breath.

Basilio licks his lips, and draws her closer to him. “Princess, the fact that you can still talk means those weren’t enough rounds.”

A breathless laugh escapes Sabina’s lips. “Ugh, you are an incorrigible pervert!”

Basilio raises an eyebrow at her, and he smirks. “You’re one to talk. Where did you even learn that trick with your tongue?”

“I can’t give away all of my secrets.” Sabina smiles, content and sleepy. “The first time I got with someone in years and it got this intense…”

“We lasted more rounds than Manuel’s last boxing match,” Basilio chuckles.

“We sure did, you perv. How long have you wanted to do this?” Sabina asks, lightly pressing on a tender bruise on her neck, one of the many marks he left on her skin. “Para kang mauubusan.”

Basilio doesn’t choose to respond, opting to bury his face in her hair. Sabina didn’t have to look at his face to know that he’s wearing a satisfied smile on his lips.

She checks the time on her phone. Almost five in the morning. As nocturnal creatures, it’s the equivalent of bedtime for most aswang. She sends a quick explanation and an apology to her bandmates for suddenly leaving them the night before, and tosses her phone aside. Then, she takes off her glasses.

Their activities made her desperate for sleep.

Turning back to her lover, she settles in his arms, and notices a pattern on his right shoulder, extending all the way to his chest. Sabina traces it with a feather-light touch. “So, where did you get this tattoo?”

“It’s not a tattoo. It’s a birthmark, I think.”

“I haven’t seen it when we were younger, though.”

Sabina eyes it with curiosity, letting her thoughts occupy her so sleep couldn’t. She should be getting dressed and going home. She wonders why Basilio isn’t moving either.

“Isn’t Alex-” she corrects herself, thinking that using the Lakan’s name is far too casual for an informant like her- “I mean Trese going to look for you?”

“Shhh, let’s not think about work for now. C’mon. Get some rest.”

Stretching as she yawns, Sabina closes her eyes. “If you say so.”

Minutes later, she feels that his eyes are still on her, and she sticks out a tongue.

“Close your eyes,” the aswang mumbles, groggy and a little irritated, eyes heavy with sleep. 

“But I like you.”

“You can still like me with your eyes closed.”

Basilio began to play with her crown of wavy hair. Sabina huffs in amusement and snuggles closer to his chest.

When he pressed a kiss on her forehead, she felt warmth spread through her face. In response, she cranes her neck to look at him. Taken aback by the intimacy he’s showing her, her misty eyes search his pitch-black ones for an answer.

“Basilio, I…”

“I missed you, Sab.”

They share a sweet, drawn-out kiss as they lay entangled in each other’s arms.

It’s like the one she gave him the day she said goodbye, from a more innocent time.

“I missed you too,” she mumbles against his mouth.

Perhaps in the flurry of the night’s events and the haze of her feelings for the demigod, she had let her guard down.

They stopped being in each other’s lives all of a sudden, and just like that, reconnection was just as abrupt. However, the innocence from the days of playing tagu-taguan and bahay-bahayan is long gone. The warm camaraderie they shared grew to a smoldering fire.

The tension boiled over and neither of them stopped themselves from reacting to it.

Sabina had let him crawl under her skin, and Basilio knew this.

Basilio caresses her cheek, and her hand touches his arm. The princess’ eyes flutter shut, with tiny droplets of tears resting on her long eyelashes.

He reminisces about the day he and his kuya met her.

Peals of laughter echoed in the Diabolical Cafe as he ran from Crispin in a game of taya. Their footsteps pounded against the floor and the walls, which alerted Hank to their presence. He put his cleaver down and called them over.

A sutsot from Hank could mean one of two things: he needs to say something important to them, or he’s about to deliver a scolding.

The Kambal stops in their tracks, floating over to Hank.

“There’s someone taking a nap on the couch,” he tells them. “You two, be polite and keep the noise down.”

“A guest?” Basilio asks. “Why would a guest sleep on the couch?”

“Because they’re sleepy, duh,” Crispin retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Before the two can squabble, Hank cuts them off with an explanation. “That’s the Reyna Manananggal’s kid. Don’t mess with her or you might end up as aswang chow.”

The two nod in unison, and float away from him to play somewhere else.

Curiosity gets the best of Basilio when he looks over his shoulder and sees wavy hair sticking out from the sofa. He sneaks away from his brother’s sight to investigate.

“A girl!”

Hank squints at him, an unamused look on his face. “Oy Basilio, I’m warning you!”

It was too late. Crispin comes over to investigate too.

The younger Kambal kneels in front of the sofa to get a closer look. The girl clinging onto a pillow, pressing it close to her chest. She wore her hair in low pigtails, the waves cascading down her shoulders. On the bridge of her nose, her glasses perched askew. Behind the glasses, Basilio could see that her eyelashes were long. She snored lightly. On her school ID, whose lanyard was tied to her purple school trolley, it says that she goes to “St. Agnes’ Academy for Girls”. In capital letters, her name is spelled out for Basilio: Sabina Marie A. Evasco.

“She’s pretty!” Basilio didn’t modulate his voice at all, and his excitement was to blame. “She doesn’t look like a manananggal… or even an aswang. If her mama’s a reyna, does that make her a prinsesa?”

Crispin puts a forefinger against his own lips and hushes his little brother. “Shh! We can ask her later when she wakes up! Let’s get out of here!”

Awakened by the chatter, the girl stirs and stretches her arms. She takes off her glasses and rubs the sleep from her eyes. There’s a small, blurry figure in front of her.

A kid like her. Finally, she was waiting for a playmate!

Hank said there’s a girl a few years older than her that she can play with when the grownups’ meeting is over.  Maybe they can braid each other’s hair. Sabina Marie thinks she’s small for someone older though.

When she put on her glasses, however, she found out that playmate wasn’t a girl at all. Hank had told her about two brothers who were around her age too.

She blinks a few times. Her sleepiness turns into surprise. “Ah! A boy!”

Crispin tsked. “Yan tuloy! Basilio woke her up!”

Basilio flashes a winning grin. “Hehe. Sorry I woke you up, Sleeping Beauty.”

From the kitchen, Hank couldn’t help but laugh. “Oy, tama na ang pick-up line. Magpakilala ka ng ayos.”

“Hi, I’m Basilio.”

“I’m Crispin. I’m his kuya.”

The girl looks at them back and forth, fascinated by the fact that they’re twins. Their features are identical, save for the lengths of their hair. The one more eager to talk to her, Basilio, had longer hair tied to a ponytail. The older, quieter one, Crispin, had his hair cut short and neat. 

She decides that they’re nice and gives them a shy smile.

“Hi. I’m Sabina Marie.”

“Your name’s too long. Can I call you Sab?” Basilio asks her, scooting closer.

“Um, sure!”

Gregarious little Basilio sits next to her on the couch, and the more reserved Crispin joins them. They chat idly, and not long after, they’re off to play a game of taya.

Hearing about their plan, Hank calls out. “Oy, you two, she’s not used to playing with boys so treat her gently.”

The younger of the two interjects defensively. “We’re not gonna hit her!”

“Promise!” Crispin adds.

Little Sabina Marie giggles as her new playmates grab her by the hand to lead her outside. “C’mon, let’s play!”

“Let me comb your hair later!”

“Whatever makes you happy, princess!”

The afternoon came and went, and by the end of it, they’re sitting on the table, red-faced, sweaty, and hungry from an afternoon of play. Each of them enjoyed a plate of Hank’s spaghetti with hotdogs and a tall glass of cold orange juice for merienda. Crispin is sitting next to his brother, while Basilio is sitting next to their new friend.

They finished their meal and Sabina digs around her uniform’s skirt pocket. She brings out individually wrapped pieces of candy.

“Do you want some?” she asks the Kambal, and smiles sweep across their faces.

“Uy, candy!” the two almost say in unison. Their grabby hands were more than eager to take them off Sabina Marie’s. They eagerly wolfed the peppermint snaps down.

“Oy, leave some for her,” Hank scolded them, chuckling.

“It’s okay, they can have it. My new mama- I mean, Inang Reyna has more in her office.”

Hank turns to the boys. “At least thank her for the candy.”

“Thanks Sab,” Crispin says with a mouthful of sweets, and his brother follows suit. “Yeah, thanks for the candy!”

At least the attempts to instill some good manners in the boys are working, and Hank helps the children clear the table.

“Are you gonna be back again to play tomorrow?” Crispin asks, passing a plate to his new friend.

“If Inang Reyna lets me, sure.”

“We could ask permission from her if you want,” Basilio suggests. “I’m sure she’ll let us!”

All Hank could do was rub the back of his neck.

They are Talagbusao’s children, for crying out loud. Everyone in the council is a little fearful of them, but the proud, clannish aswang were especially spooked.

Sabina hesitated. “Um…”

Multiple footsteps are approaching. Before the Kambal’s new friend can give her answer, all the children turn and see various members of the council emerging from the library. Among them was a tall, regal woman in a red business suit. Without saying a word, little Sabina Marie gets off her stool to greet her.

The lady in red crinkles her nose. “Ugh, Sabina Marie, what happened to you? Amoy araw ka. Did you play under the sun?” She made no effort to wipe her sweat off. Instead, a teenage girl comes forth to tend to her.

“I made new friends. We played a game of taya outside,” Sabina tells her, motioning to the Kambal. For a brief moment, the Reyna Manananggal’s composure wavers, lips twitching into a deep frown, before she clears her throat and places a hand on Sabina’s head. On the other hand, the teenage girl beside the queen wasn’t as subtle with her disapproval, eyeing the brothers warily and pressing her younger sister closer to herself.

“Maria Rowena,” the queen addresses the teenager, “go take your little sister to the car. I’ll follow shortly after.”

“Opo, Inang Reyna.”

Rowena ushers Sabina, grabbing her by the forearm. “Wait, Ate Weng. I haven’t said goodbye to them yet.”

“Those boys are dangerous, Sabina. Let’s. Go.”

Little Sabina Marie gives her new pals a haphazard wave goodbye, confused by the entire situation. “Huh? But they’ve been nice to me. Why are they dangerous, Ate?”

“I’ll explain in the car! Stop. Asking. Questions.”

“I will if you give me an answer that makes sense!”

The sisters squabble on their way out, and Crispin and Basilio are just as confused as to why their new playmate is suddenly being whisked away.

Being the bolder of the two, Basilio dares to ask the queen a question. “Can she come back to play with us?”

The queen of the Manananggal clan turns to him, crossing her arms. “No.”

“Why not?” Basilio asks. His Kuya Crispin comes forward, taking his place at his brother’s side in his defense; the Reyna Manananggal wasn’t looking at Basilio with kindness.

“Little boy, do you know what you are?”

The Kambal gave each other confused looks. Leaving the kitchen, Hank approaches them, ready to smooth talk the kids’ way out of trouble.

Thankfully, he won’t need to.

Anton approaches with Alexandra in tow. “That’s enough. Children should be allowed to play and live normal lives. That includes your new daughter, as agreed upon in the council’s emergency meeting.”

The Reyna Manananggal narrows her eyes. “Talagbusao’s half-breeds are a danger to everyone they meet and you know it. I didn’t adopt a new daughter just for her to become these warchildren’s plaything.”

“I can assure you that they’re being taught how to treat others with kindness and respect.”

“Is that so? Don’t take me for a fool, Lakan. I have my own connections. I’ve heard about their mother’s fate. What makes you say that these brats won’t grow up to take after their father?”

Anton’s gaze hardens to a glare. “Let’s not talk about that in front of the children,” he cuts her off. “I don’t like what you’re implying, Reyna.”

Crispin and Basilio looked at the adults back and forth the whole time, unable to make sense of what they really meant. Even with the violent ways they were exposed to, the innocence of childhood somehow remained.

The Reyna Manananggal glares back in response. “Don’t tell me it never crossed your mind, that any attempts at taming their desire for bloodlust and domination will not work.”

“I’ve made it clear in the past that I will be held responsible when they go out of control. Worry not about how I raise Crispin and Basilio. It’s Sabina you should worry about.”

“Are you questioning my parenting? I thought we already settled in the meeting that I’m more than capable of taking Sabina Marie under my wing. I’ve even agreed to postponing her initiation to the manananggal clan until she’s sixteen years old.”

“I’m not. I’m simply reminding you of what these children need. Family. Friends.”

The queen sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She crosses her arms again, taking one last nervous glance at the warchildren. “Fine. As long as you don’t meddle with how I raise my children, Lakan, I’ll allow their little playdates with my daughter.”

“As long as the stipulations are upheld, there’s no meddling to be done.”

“And if they lay a finger even on a single lock of her hair-”

“They will be disciplined. I’ll personally see to that.”

Conceding, the Reyna Manananggal uncrosses her arms and gives the Lakan’s lot one last look. “Hmph.”

Heels clacking against the cafe’s floor, she walks away, ready to be done with this sordid affair.

Once all of the guests leave, the Trese household settles down. Alex sat with Hank and they discussed what happened in the council meeting, while Anton tended to the boys. They were sitting on the couch, not a sound from the normally rambunctious pair. At the moment, they look like kicked puppies.

“Are we really a danger to anyone we meet?” the older of the two asks, frowning.

His little brother was affected by the queen’s treatment more deeply, pouting and looking forlorn. What she said got under his skin, horribly so. “Sir, what are we? Why are so many people afraid of us?”

Anton looks at Hank, then his daughter, and back to the twins. They all share a look of understanding. “Boys, I think it’s time that we talk.”

At that point, the now adult Basilio stops reminiscing. He didn’t want to reopen that wound.

He focuses on Sabina instead, who’s now fast asleep. She almost looked the same the day he found her on the couch. Sleep is the only time her face looks relaxed.

The realization sinks in, and so does the guilt.

Basilio just got intimate with his childhood friend, maybe his first love, if he can call what he felt for her back then love. Worse, she happens to be an aswang, the Reyna Manananggal’s daughter. Worst of all, Sabina is their informant; their informant for aswang activity, no less.

Bossing is going to kill him.

He closes his eyes. He’ll deal with that after some sleep.

Sabina’s soft breaths kisses his skin, and he thinks this was totally worth the scolding he’ll receive.

Crossing paths with his childhood friend again was a pleasant surprise. Holding her like this is a dream come true.

Basilio kisses her temple, and he holds her as slumber takes hold of him.

Translations:

La Paz batchoy - a local Filipino noodle dish with pork offal, crushed pork cracklings, chicken stock, beef loin and round noodles/miki

Ang daya. - That’s unfair.

Anong madaya? - What do you mean unfair?

Takaw mo. - You glutton.

Siling labuyo - a small chili pepper cultivar developed in the Philippines.

Hay nako - an expression similar to “Oh my”; some linguists say it comes from “Nanay ko po!” which means “Oh my Mother!”. Used to express frustration or exasperation.

Para kang mauubusan. - Lit. “It’s like you’ll run out (of me)”. Another way to translate this is “It’s like you can’t get enough.”

tagu-taguan - hide and seek

bahay-bahayan - playing house

taya - tag

sutsot - a hiss; a psst sound

Yan tuloy! - an expression when something unfortunate happens; can be translated as “Now look at what happened!”

Oy, tama na ang pick-up line. Magpakilala ka ng ayos. - Hey, enough with the pick-up lines. Introduce yourself properly.

Inang Reyna - lit. Queen Mother.

[morifinwes]

wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

OR

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

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

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

 

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

 

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

 

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

 

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

[babesonly]

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids​ purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny. 

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

--

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean 

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease 

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

Or

An ethics lesson from Hell

Or

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good 

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

--

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

--

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want? 

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god. 

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this