#near the end she said she never struggled with her sexuality and when the host mentioned she said she was

[whoatemyshoe]

Have you ever been with a lady?

Yes.

-

Aubrey Pleads The Fifth! | Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen, Season 13 Ep 114

[captains-simp]

can you do a fic where reader unintentionally breaks one of the rules by accident so she has to be punished but the punishment is being ignored by BOTH wanda AND nat and reader is uncomfortable with being ignored because it makes her feel invisible and like she's a ghost so like this is what happens, reader breaks a rule in front of wanda and nat but reader doesn't realize she broke a rule but wanda and nat punish reader without telling reader first, and they punish her by not acknowledging her presence and stuff then reader just breaks and starts crying and stuff, she's really upset until nat and wanda cave in and see what's wrong with reader because they didnt know that reader didnt realize she broke a rule and her punishment was being ignored by them

also nat is dom, wanda is switch (like wanda is sub to nat but dom to reader) and reader is sub also nat, wanda and reader are in a poly dom/sub relationship and dating

Oh my god is this ✨smut with a developed storyline✨?

Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff ~ 3rd Wheel

Warnings: debatable toxic traits, feelings of abandonment and unlove, fingering, praise, oral and hints of overstimulation

2.4k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You giggled as Sam made stupid sound effects every time he paused in telling his story. You were pretty sure the story wasn’t true but hearing him tell it was entertaining enough. He put his hand on your forearm as he laughed at his own comeback to some apparently ‘very real’ character in the story and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. That was until your other arm was grabbed and pulled you to your feet. 

“It’s late, we should go.” Natasha said curtly. You nodded and said goodbye to Sam with a tight hug and followed after the Russian as Wanda joined her at her side. 

“How did your meeting go?” You teased the redheads. Officially, what you had just attended was a party. Unofficially, it was a chance for Natasha and Wanda to gather more intel for a future mission that they had been working on for months. Tony, to no one’s surprise, was more than happy to help by hosting the party and it was just like any other to everyone else. You had missed your girlfriend’s company at first, but had eventually started socializing with the others and the night had flown by. 

When you were met with silence you assumed you didn’t hear either of their responses over the music so you sped up your steps slightly to stick close by. Once you got to the car you knew they were in a bad mood. It was one thing when one of them was mad but both of them was a whole other storm. Not that it was always bad. Sometimes they would take that anger out on you in the bedroom and you had secretly been dying to be fucked like that for a while. 

You tried to make conversation a few times, telling the pair about Sam’s story and how it was probably about as real as fairies but they still didn’t respond. Of course, you had no idea that these things were just making them madder and that Wanda and Natasha were communicating silently most of the time, discussing the meeting as they ignored you. You gave up eventually and gazed out the window as you fiddled with the fabric of your dress. 

Once you were home things only seemed to get worse. “I made dinner before we left.” You said as you looked under the grill to find that the three served plates were still fine and put them on the counter. You had cooked before getting ready because you knew your girlfriends were busy and were going to be hungry when they got home. You glanced at the two women to see Natasha undoing her girlfriend’s zipper and placing a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. You smiled at the tender site. 

“Hey, where’s my kiss?” You teased as Natasha started towards the bedroom but shouldered right past you. You looked to Wanda but she didn’t spare you a glance either as she strolled through the apartment to your shared bedroom. You watched them go with a dry mouth and dragged yourself to the bathroom where you struggled to undo the zipper of your dress before finally succeeding after five minutes of struggling and sore arms. One of the redheads usually did it for you before you could even think to ask.  

You stepped into the shower and tried to focus on the feeling of the hot water running down your body, hoping it would distract you from the dull ache near your heart. It didn’t work. You wondered if you had done anything to annoy them at the party but could think of nothing. With a disgruntled sigh, you turned off the water and stepped out of the safety of the shower. You quickly dried off and tiptoed to your now-empty bedroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you went back into the kitchen you found only one of the plates was left. You glanced over at the living area to see Wanda and Natasha curled up together on the couch under a blanket as they watched TV and ate the food you made. They could have at least warmed mine up. You grumbled to yourself as you put it in the microwave and made yourself a drink. You trudged over to the couch but Wanda extended her legs to cover the free space just as you were about to sit down. You looked up at them both but their eyes were still glued to the TV. 

You sat down tentatively on the armchair closest to the couch and started taking small bites of your food. You weren’t paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, your eyes kept flickering to the two redheads curled up on the couch together. They looked so warm and tender laying together. You wished so desperately you could be with them, but instead you just felt like an outsider. That had always been a big insecurity for you. Wanda and Natasha were both Avengers and you were just a normal citizen. You often wondered if you ever felt like a burden, the weak part of their relationship. You could never understand their lives the way they could, you could only watch. Usually, you would voice your concerns and insecurities to them and they would assure you to no end that they loved you more than anything. However speaking had gotten you nowhere that night, so you kept it to yourself. 

You sat in the living room for hours. You wanted to go to bed so badly. You were utterly exhausted and your eyes were starting to hurt from the lights in the room you wanted to be shielded from. But you were determined not to go until the other two did. You wanted to be curled up between them both like you always were. You wanted to feel safe and secure and most of all loved. 

Finally, Natasha turned off the television and stretched out like a cat on the couch before standing and making her way to the bedroom, leading Wanda by the hand. You put your uneaten plate of food on the side to deal with the next day, too tired to even think about it at that moment. The pair instantly dropped down into bed and Natasha held Wanda tightly as she rested her head on the Russian’s chest. You gazed down at them longingly but forced yourself into bed besides them. You reached out your hand to tug weakly on their shirts, desperate for any kind of acknowledgement but received none. You withdrew your hand and held it up to your chest as you watched the pair. How long had they been craving time to themselves? 

You slowly got out from under the covers and left the room without feeling their usual fond gazes on your back. You lingered in the hallway before glancing back and saw Natasha tracing circles on Wanda’s back. You gulped back tears and made your way to the spare bedroom where you slept alone for the first time in months. 

*

You didn’t get up until lunch the next day. You didn’t feel like doing anything, especially not facing your girlfriend. You wanted to stay out of their way to give them the alone time they so clearly needed.

When you had finally dragged yourself out of bed and into the hallway you froze. Wanda’s moans could be heard clearly from your bedroom followed by sharp cries of Natasha’s name. You stood rooted to the spot as the pain in your chest grew worse. Since they had so keenly invited you into their relationship. The pair had never once done anything sexual without you. At first you had been flattered and insisted that you were okay if they wanted to do things by themselves every once in a while but eventually you had grown used to how things were. You had grown used to being included in everything. 

Numbly, you made yourself a hot chocolate in hopes of it raising your spirits. Not long after you had finished, your girlfriends came wandering into the kitchen with a new glow. 

“Do you want a drink?” You piped up, you could at least be helpful. Wanda grabbed something from the fridge as Natasha took out a glass from the cupboard and spun around to kiss her girlfriend on the lips with a soft giggle. Wanda smiled against her and hummed when Natasha’s tongue teased the Sokovian’s lower lip. 

“I love you.” Natasha hummed and Wanda smiled with a blush as she said the words back. 

“I- I love you too.” You added and took a desperate step towards them both, holding out your hands to them but they separated and started to stroll back into the living room. You watched on as tears sprung to your eyes. They didn’t say it back. They always said it back. “Please.” You whispered though you may have well have been talking to a wall. You whimpered quietly and weakly made your way to the guest room where you closed the door and fell down onto the bed, not being able to stop the tears streaming down your face. You curled up on yourself and hugged your duvet as close to your body as possible, needing something to cling onto like a lifeline. 

You didn’t hear the door open through your muffled weeping. You did feel the gentle pair of hands on your waist and the dip in the bed either side of you. Your head shot up and you looked between the pair in panic, fearing they were going to tell you to go elsewhere for the day or even forever. Wanda shushed you softly and held your dampened cheeks in her hands. 

“It’s okay, honey.” Wanda cooed and you whimpered as you tried to enjoy what you assumed was the last time she would hold you. “We’re not going anywhere and neither are you.” You peered at her cautiously and then Natasha who nodded gently. 

“We’re sorry, baby. Sam was getting a little too handsy last night and you didn’t seem to notice.” Natasha explained carefully. You remembered the brief moment he had touched your waist and frowned at the memory. 

“And you know letting people touch what isn’t theirs is breaking a rule.” You nodded slowly as Wanda added on.

“So your punishment was being ignored by us so you could learn but we took it too far.” Natasha admitted.

“And we never told you what was happening. We’re so sorry we made you feel this way, sweetie. We love you so much.” Wanda said as she kissed you softly on the lips as Natasha lay down behind you and wrapped her arms protectively around your waist. 

“So so much.” She added. 

“Promise?” You asked and Wanda lay down to join you and wipe your tears away. 

“Always.” 

“Let us show you.” Natasha whispered against your neck and you nodded as she rolled you gently onto your back and began planting soft kisses along your neck, occasionally lingering on patches of skin to suck dark bruises into them. Wanda titled your head towards you and kissed you slowly, cherishing the taste of you and wanting to reclaim all that she could. 

Natasha’s hands started to wander down your stomach and landed at the hem of your sweatpants that she easily surpassed along with your panties. You gasped when you felt her fingers run along your folds and up to your clit. You bucked your hips and moaned against Wanda when she applied some pressure, all while the Sokovian started to retrace her girlfriend’s steps by running her hands across your breasts. Her thumbs brushed against your hardened nipples and she hummed against you. 

Natasha finally pushed two fingers past your folds and relished in the slick that coated them instantly. She curled them gently inside you and withdrew to start about making a consistent pace that had you melting beneath them both. 

“That’s it, sweetie.” Wanda assured in the most loving tone you had ever heard from her. 

“Taking me so well. Our best girl.” Natasha hummed and withdrew her fingers. You whined softly but shushed when Natasha brought her fingers up to Wanda’s lips and slid them inside. The Sokovian hummed in delight around Natasha’s fingers, eagerly licking her slender digits before retreating to start down your body, determined to gain an unfiltered taste. 

Wanda pulled your sweatpants and panties off completely and kissed up your thighs softly, taking her time in treasuring you just as Natasha had done with your neck. She gleamed at the sight before her and didn’t hesitate to lick a long strip between your folds. You mewled in Natasha’s hold as Wanda moaned against you. “Always so sweet.” She dipped her tongue inside of you and you clenched around her muscle with a gasp.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for us.” Natasha praised softly as she started to rub your clit with her free hand. You bucked against both their movements, feeling beautifully overwhelmed by it all. Wanda’s tongue flicked inside you and you moaned loudly into the air, tempting Natasha to quieten you with a kiss while your other girlfriend continued to work between your legs that were beginning to shake. 

“Please.” You whined as you felt your high approaching. The pair smiled at one another as they continued to please you. 

“I can feel you clenching my tongue.” Wanda mused.

“Go ahead and cum for us, baby.” You did as you were told without a second’s delay. You moaned loudly into the air as you shuddered against the bed and came undone on Wanda’s tongue. The pair helped you ride out your high and into another orgasm relentlessly. They didn’t let up, making you cum again and once more, leaving you feeling utterly exhausted and overworked. 

“That’s it, darling. You did so good for us.” Wanda praised as she fell down besides you and they both held you protectively. 

“We love you.” Natasha muttered softly and you smiled.

“I love you both too.” You hummed, enjoying the warmth of your girlfriends’ comfort.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[slashingdisneypasta]

Kurt Kelly x Fem!Bitch!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Someone Gets Hurt

Plot: Some little wannabe steals away your boyfriend, Kurt, while also batting her big ass lashes and winning over your friends, too... until you've had enough. No one out bitches you.

Notes:

Obviously, this is inspired by Someone Gets Hurt from Mean Girls except with Regina (The reader) as the heroine.

Warnings: Overall bitchiness, possessiveness (You about Kurt), break ups (Make ups too though so its not too bad ^^), the ruining of another persons relationship (Random girl Lizzie and Kurt's), rapeiness (Ram), sexual references, underage drinking, overage drinking, just LOTS of debauchery over all, a smut bit near the end (Not full), etc.

Was I too proud with you? Was I too cold and forbidding? And you chose her over me Are you kidding?

Watching Kurt and Lizzie together this week has been torture. Terrible, burning, squeezing, not-at-all sexy torture.

Because Kurt, is yours.

He has always been yours. He was yours in kindergarten, he was yours in middle school, and he was yours all through highschool until this, unfortunate and butt fucking ugly, snag. Crossing your arms now and poisoning them with your eyes, you sit in the cafeteria... and think.

Just, think.

You don't gossip with your minions about all the bullshit going on in school, you don't discuss what you're going to do to the freshmen this year, no. Nothing. You're too busy... plotting.

There is no way in hell, that this pee-brained virgin bitch is going to steal your boyfriend, and not get paid back in turn. Its only fair- and you include interest, in your transactions like this.

One eye actually twitches, when Lizzie... the pee brained virgin bitch in question, gives Kurt a peck on the nose - oh so cute, but you don't even have to look at Kurt to see the disappointment flash in his eyes, - and hops off his lap when the bell rings. He has a free period now, you know because so do you and you usually spend it at the back of the football field together, but she has Chemistry, a thing you also know because hell- you just know everything. That's a basic fact. The whole school knows it and love that you never have to explain how you just fucking know shit.

But even being all knowing does not make you feel better, knowing that itty bitty roach-cunt has her claws embedded in your poor, weak-willed... ex boyfriends,... heart. Or his penis, more likely. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because Lizzie's the 'Mary'est whore in the land of Westerberg High.

That doesn't really matter though. Either way, he's with her now and not you, and that just wont do.

Maggie, your right hand babe, gets up from your lunch table and leaves for her next class, too. And its only until she's out of sight, that you notice the piece of paper she left behind. Rolling your eyes, a growl of annoyance escapes you and you sigh- turning away from Kurt and Ram's table to see what the fuck it is. The reprieve is almost palpable, not looking at him anymore. It feels a little better- but not by much. And certainly not enough for you to forget what fuckery is going on.

Picking up the piece of paper in one perfectly manicured hand, you see that its an invitation. "Hmm... " Worrying the inside of your cheek, you think; This is interesting.

A Halloween party...

A gleeful smirk quirks slightly at the corners of your lips.

Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween.

~

And what you meant by 'Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween'- is 'Kurt always did have a boner for your Halloween costumes'. For the past several years, since the two of you blossomed with the help of puberty, you have used your assets as an advantage - because why else have them? - ; With the help of lace tights, push up bra's, winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

This year you've pulled together your favourite costume yet, which is fitting for the task at hand and the fact that its senior year- this may be your last chance to put these bottom dwelling highschool chuckleheads in their place.

I mean, you hope not but its basically a given.

Looking around the party as you walk in, you figure its just the same as any party Ram has thrown before. And his house is perfect for it, you'll give him that. The lights a turned down low enough that everyone looks a little hot, cooler's full of ice and alcohol are set up so you're never too far from a fix and thanks to his houses sound system the music is loud enough to make you think for a couple hours that you're in a place between reality and your dreams; A perfect set up for mistakes and one wild night.

But you aren't here to get drunk and kiss a loser, except for Kurt; You're here to take back the goddamn crown. Which getting Kurt back, will do. It'll humiliate Lizzie, and that's really all you want out of life right now.

Prowling through the crowd - which still knows to part for you, despite your current, slightly lower social standing, - in your knee high, shiny black leather boots, you look for someone to talk to. You know Maggie's here somewhere but that bitch is on her last life with you, after she said Lizzie's hair looked nice the other day. And you think some silent treatment will set her straight.

"Oh- Hi Ram." You find the host in the backyard, about to push an unsuspecting demoness into in a very sheer red blouse into the pool - which would doubtlessly make the blouse more of a red tint to her skin rather then any kind of coverage, which Ram well knows, - , and he double takes when he sees you. A sleazy, mischievous grin slops over his face at the sight, which makes you roll your eyes.

Deeply.

"Ohhh, heyyyy, Y/N!" He has to yell over the sound of the music and the other party-goers, not that you would mind if you didn't hear anything he said. He hasn't got a whole lot of substance, Ram, so you can basically assume that rolling your eyes is always the answer to anything he's saying. His eyes shift back, anxiously, to the girl he's currently got a hit out on, but you just raise your eyebrows sharply at him and he's at attention. "I didn't know you were gonna come! You know, with the state of things... "

Oh, he's so obnoxious. And dumb! So, so dumb. He doesn't know the half of your shit. Yet he still runs his mouth... Rolling your eyes once again, you flip some hair behind your head. "Oh don't worry your pretty little head about that, Ram." Eyes flickering around the party some more, searching for your own target, you rest your hands on your hips that are tightly bound, in various layers of violet georgette cloth. The witches hat on your head is pinned down, so theirs no chance of it flying off. You have a train of thinner fabric hanging down the back of your short-short skirt, and your tight tube top reveals exactly the shapes you require it to. "I'll be perfectly fine- oh, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh I think I saw him and Liz against a wall earlier- but by the looks of Liz, I doubt they're in a situation like that anymore." He chuckles, dumbly. The stupid boy has a slur in his voice that you hadn't noticed before but probably should've known would be there. But you're sure focusing in on him now, jealousy burning in your eyes at his description. What does that mean??

"What?"

A geek walks by, toting a bottle in his hands that Ram snatches for himself. As the kid continues by, faster now due to the angry look in Ram's eyes and the animalistic growl that slips from the footballers lips, you continue to glare bullets at Ram. He takes a messy swig of his beer before continuing. "Just sayin', Y/N. Your friend's a prude. Won' even let Kurt get to second base with 'er or anything. So I'd say Kurt's, probably, uhhh... by the pool table, now." He shrugs big round shoulders then, as relief and mirth wash over you. So he didn't mean they'd have moved their dirty little adventure to somewhere they could really get down, or anything. He means quite the opposite.

A smirk graces your red painted lips.

"Well- enjoy your party." You shrug, not really caring as his eyes shine... turning back to the demon girl who's just laughing with her friends; He sure will. Eyes narrowing, you mutter a bitter "Dick." under your breath, as a final bid to Ram.

Turning on your heel, you head back into the house. You've been here plenty of times with Kurt and know exactly where the pool table is (And how uncomfortable it is to be bent over) and sure enough- there he is.

Your boyfriend.

Or, soon-to-be, once-again boyfriend.

He's standing back with a stick, waiting for his turn as he laughs with some over football boneheads. Lizzie isn't here, but you suppose she could have gone to get a drink or talk to one her - your, - friends, but where she is actually doesn't concern your in this moment. All you can do right now, is stand and stare.

God, he's hot.

You miss him; You really do. And, admittedly- not just because he can fuck you like no one else.

But your moment passes, and you gather your wits. Ready.

You're hot, you're smart, and you're ruthless. You can do this.

Saddling up beside Kurt, a genuine smile slips across your face as you look up at him; Running a hand back through your hair. "Hey, Kurt." Slightly widening your eyes, you raise a brow as he turns to look down at you. "What's up?"

Like- its been a while. What have I missed?

Immediate 'Oooooh's and 'Oh no the ex- Kurt watch out!'s erupt from his meathead athlete friends, but what you care about is how Kurt struggles for a moment to tear his eyes away from yours, like the eyeliner you perfected and the colour and the just- you, has hypnotised him. He flashes his friends a wicked grin, waiving them off as he turns to put his body between you, and the group. It puts you so close together- and you sure don't step back any.

Then his eyes flicker down to the rest of you- and he really has a problem looking away. "Oh, uh, hey Y/N. N-nothing much. Uh... you look... "

A gentle chuckle flutters out of you, resting a hand on your right hip. "What? Black cat caught your tongue?"

Jesus- even the mention of that particular muscle reference to him does something to you. And being this close to him again, and seeing his reaction to your outfit... its all just so right. The way things should be.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but immediately closes it again on remembering something. A seriously awkward hm sound escapes him which you don't quite get yet, but you decide that you don't need to.

"So... " You start, getting rid of the tough bravado suddenly... letting awkwardness seep into your tone; Your appearance. On purpose. Eyes downcast, you let your arms slide down to your sides again, lacing your fingers together in front of you for a moment, pretending you're at a loss for words. "Um... maybe this is... weird... "

"What?" A big hand ghosts over your hip- you can just feel his skin graze against you.

You look up to catch his gaze again suddenly, lips and eyebrows scrunching after a moment, unsurely. "Uh, well... " Chewing innocently on your bottom lip, you hold your arms behind your back; not-at-all meaning to push out your chest more. No, not at all... "Me coming up to talk to you... since the break up... "

A hiss escapes him, as he suddenly, seemingly, like just seeing you had him returning to old habits, remembers that fact himself and takes a step back from you. Your brows knit together, up at him- perfectly pitiful.

"Oh man- yeah. Maybe. Fuck!" He runs a hand up through his hair, looking convincingly tortured.

Already!

You could rejoice.

Oh, Kurt... we've only just started.

Sighing, you look away again. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... well, Kurt, I've missed you!"

Suddenly his eyes, still and focused, turn more sternly down on you and your insides squirm at it. Like muscle memory, your body screams for you to back up; Get on your knees, bat your lashes. Ask what's wrong, Daddy?

His eyes narrow, and you resist the temptation to smirk. "Oh- no. No, Y/N. I know what you're doing, okay? I'm not dumb! This is all just too... too... " The fact that he cant even really speak, even as he's trying to be all tough and put up walls between you two, really gives you confidence. You must still really have an effect on him- as you should. Of course you do. One week with a little lily livered slut bag does not erase an entire lifetime between two people. Kurts lips curl into a scowl. "You're not like this." He states, and you raise your brows. Oh? "You're manipulating me, aren't you? Come on, Y/N!"

His tone is pleading. He's begging, you.

Damn, he must really want Miss Lizzie's little ass.

After a moment, you shrug. "Okay, whatever, you got me." Shedding the innocent act, you lean back on the pool table as the boys continue to play; Laying yourself out for him. "Does that mean I was lying? No, I really do miss you."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right." Rolling his own eyes, he focuses his gaze off somewhere else in the party- rather then on you. "All you care about is your reign of terror."

Oh... he knows that's not true.

But still, if he's going to play that way- "Yeah, sure- and all you care about is pussy." Shrugging, you drum your fingers bordly against the edge of the table on either side of you. "I guess we're a pair."

"Fuck, Y/N... you know you're... y-you're... Damn, that I love you. You fucking know that." He hisses, getting mad. And you inwardly smirk.

There it is...

Tightening your grip now, you look up at him to see he's once again looking at you. And for a moment, amongst all the madness that party's are- it feels like its just you two. "And you know... I love you."

Pushing off the pool table, you stalk towards him and trace your hands up his chest; Locking your arms around his neck lazily, and resting your chest against his. And you can see it. You can see, the struggle inside him about whether to just give into you- and your tits and your lips and your hips, and- just, you! Or to stay away. Because you're poison; Even you're well aware of that fact.

You're like a boa constrictor. You get yourself wrapped around your victim and you squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze... until you have them just how you want them. Moulded into a shape that works well, for you.

But he's a lion. Imposing, and selfish, and self serving. And too big for you to ruin.

Its like you said; You're a pair.

And you cannot give him up.

"Kurt... come on." Leaning up, and talking in a quiet, just-for-him voice now, your lips brush against his and he lets out a shuddering breath. "We belong together, don't we? Its us- forever. You've known it since second grade. Sure, it took me a few more years to realise it too, but we're here now." Sincerity bleeds into your tone; Something you can't help when he looks like he wants to kiss you so badly, like that. "It can't be you and her." It cant. Tilting your head to the side, teasingly, you smirk mischievously; Just for him. "Is she going to fuck you like I do?"

"Shit... " Kurt mutters, eyes stuck on your lips. His hands find your waist, gathering you up against him roughly like he always does when he just wants you. Animalistically, wherever you are- whoever sees be fucking damned.

But he still isn't taking you. And that's a problem.

Brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you turn your head like your making out to kiss him- but don't. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look pleading at him for an answer. "Was it all a lie, then? With us? Were we?- "

And that does it- he's had enough- he's at boiling point- Lips smash into yours, crossing the centimetre of space between them and he doesn't fuss around at all, to warm up. Your tongues connect almost instantly, and in 0.2 seconds, you two are that moaning, making out mess couple that every party has.

Through your lust filled haze, you can just about feel victorious.

A few moments after that your back hits the closest wall, and your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you up- you two know the drill by now. Kurt's grinding his raging hard on deliciously through his jeans into your bare cunt- moaning and muttering something into your cheek as he sloppily makes his way down to your breasts about you being such a slut.

You REALLY don't mind.

Eyes half lidded, you catch sight of Lizzie in the crowd behind Kurt. The crowd that, apart from her, doesn't care at all what the two of you are doing.

You smirk absolutely evilly towards her, before mouthing 'mine'.

[fangroyal]

Fic Rec Tag Meme

@sitp-recs, I’m terribly late, but this looked way too fun, so I had to join in. Fair warning, y’all, not everything here is Drarry, or even HP (I am a prolific rarepair shipper/multi-fandomer, and Dron is my OTP 😂), so I’ve added the fandoms and pairings below as well. All of these (and many more!) can also be found on my ficshelf! It was so hard to pick these as it was, I couldn’t help but point you in the right direction for all the ones I (sadly, unfortunately) had to cut from the list, lol.

Anyway, thank you so much for running this tag meme, @sitp-recs! It’s been amazing seeing everyone’s recs and discovering new fics! 🖤

• A fic you love without knowing the source material: He Was a Punk, Pete Did Tabletop Roleplay by @mscaptainwinchester Marvel | Peter/Wade | NC-17 | 7.5k

• A fic with a premise that shouldn’t work but it does: Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost by @theoldaquarian Good Omens | Hints of Aziraphale/Crowley | G | 3k All fics are valid and work!! That being said, I had no idea just how much I was going to fall in love with a fic about Crowley being an AirBnB host when I first opened it. 😂

• A fic you’ve reread several times: Department of Magical Creatures Case 62637 by @mscaptainwinchester (under RonsPigwidgeon at the time) HP | Draco/various, Ron/OMC, Ron/Draco | R | 121k How could I expected to only pick ONE?! 😂 I’ve reread everything you’re seeing here - I’ve reread nearly every fic I’ve ever recced at least once. But I couldn’t make a favorites list without this fic, so might as well put it here, haha!

• A fic you still remember many years later: Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble by Sushi HP | Severus/Severus | NC-17 | 8.9k I remembered it so well (and fondly) that after 12+ years, I went scouring the Wayback Machine to find it. And yes, the pairing is correct. Don’t look at me. If you’re still interested in reading after knowing that, hit me up, ‘cause it takes a bit of instruction to find it now.

• A comfort fic: You and I by @shiftylinguini HP | Scorpius/Albus S. | NC-17 | 32k

• A cathartic fic: The Conformity Conspiracy by shrink South Park | Michael/Pete (or Ethan/Dylan, as this was written before they had names in canon) | R | 71k I really struggled with this entry. I came to the realization that...I don’t know if I’ve ever actually felt catharsis from a piece of media before??? Well, I have with music, for sure, but not really with anything else. Anyway, I chose this fic for this slot because every time I read it, I’m transported back to being a goth teen. I can feel every word, every action, like I’m going through those years again with them...Which isn’t necessarily what cathartic means, but fuck it, it works for me, haha. ***As always whenever I rec this fic, I do just have to warn that it’s not properly tagged on AO3, and there is definitely some potentially triggering content in it. If you’re interested in reading and would like to know more (so you can be better prepared), feel free to DM me!***

• A fic you’d print and put on your bookshelf: In Flight, Two Boys by lobst_r HP | Marcus/Oliver | NC-17 | 29K Again, how I could possibly pick only one for this one?! I would print out ALL of these fics if I could, and many more! But this is such a beautiful fic, it definitely deserves a spot on the list, and what better spot for it than this? There’s actually a sequel currently posting as well! I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet, but I’m sure it’s just as amazing, if not more so.

• A fic you associate with a song: You Do Your Body Work, I Feel My Pulse Working Overtime by @veelawings HP | Draco/Harry | NC-17 | 1.6k I mean, it’s in the title. 😜 But also this is just a truly inspiring fic that I absolutely had to include! (I realized I somehow haven’t queued a rec post for it yet, and I will make sure to fix that soon!)

• A fic that inspires you: dirtynumbangelboy by @magpiefngrl HP | Draco/Harry | NC-17 | 39k

• A fic that brought you onboard a new ship: Lumos by birdsofshore HP | Draco/Harry | NC-17 | 41k Some people may be surprised to know that Drarry was, uh.......once my NOTP. Yes, really. 😂 You wouldn’t suspect that nowadays, would you??? LOL. It’s all because of this wonderful, beautiful fic. I saw it getting recced everywhere at the time and said fuck it, I’ll give the pairing another try - and I never looked back!

• A fic you wish could be a movie: Midnight in the City of a Hundred Spires by @shiftylinguini HP | Draco/Harry | NC-17 | 25k

• A fic that led to you making friends with the author: A Weasel in the Hamptons by @peachpety HP | Ron/Draco | NC-17 | 15k I don’t quite know if this counts, because I believe we’d already been speaking before this??? 😂 But of course, being that I’m the mod for Ron/Draco Fest, I knew who was writing for this prompt of mine, and thus we dispensed with the formalities in private, haha! It was a great experience, and I was so overjoyed to see the results in the end. So happy to have met you, love! 😘 Hope you’re well!

• Free Space: The Pizzaria: A Sordid Tale of Destiny, Evil and Garlic by Mad_Maudlin HP | Ron/Draco | PG-13 | 36k A Dron/crack!fic staple, honestly, and I just couldn’t make a favorites list without it!

• A fic you’ve gushed about irl: Runway by @candawrites HP | Ron/Draco | R | 15k

• A fic you associate with a place: Archipelago by Mad_Maudlin HP | Ron/Draco | NC-17 | 18k I just have a very distinct visual memory of reading this fic for the first time: sitting on the couch in my mom’s living room, the sun setting outside. (I was visiting for her bday, I believe???)  I think of that moment every time I see the title.

• A fic that made you gasp out loud: clutched your life and wished it kept by @glitteringvoids HP | Ron/Draco | R | 110K

• A fic you found at the right time: Howlr by @partialtopotter HP | Draco/Harry | NC-17 | 47k I got really sick in summer 2018. I know I’ve talked about it on here a million times at this point, so I won’t dwell. But I ended up finding and reading this fic the following March, and it reawakened my love of fic and fandom that had been lost over the previous months while I was dealing with everything. I hadn’t been reading or writing at all in all that time, and I ended up reading this whole thing in one sitting. I couldn’t put it down! It just made me feel so good, after a long time of not feeling anywhere near good.

• A fic that you would read fic of: In the Garden After Dark by @the-starryknight HP | Draco/Harry | R | 3.5k I just need more of this universe and Draco’s Illusion magic. 😍

• A fic that made you laugh out loud: Why Parvati Patil Must Die by hull1984 HP | Ron/Draco | PG-13 | 39k

• A fic with a line (or two) that you’ve memorized by heart: Hail to the King by Mad_Maudlin HP | Ron/Zacharias, Ron/Zacharias/Draco | NC-17 | 5k

• A fic that gave you butterflies: The Electric Fizzing Prick Pistols, or Whatever by whitmans_kiss HP | Sirius/Remus | PG-13 | 3.8k

• A fic that embodies something that you value in life: Luna Lovegood: Wank Coach for the Long-Since Deceased by yrfrndfrnkly HP | gen | PG-13 | 9.8k This was another difficult category to choose for. Not that I don’t think any fics I’ve read display good values! Of course they do! But I have this weird issue where I don’t, like...project? at all??? So sometimes it’s hard for me to recognize these things in what I read. But eventually I realized it had to be this fic, because I just love the carefree way Luna lives her life here, her job helping people (well, ghosts who could use some sexual release, specifically, but you know), and the wonderful friends she surrounds herself with.

• A favorite AU: Quibbler Unsolved by Leontina HP | Draco/Harry | PG-13 | 17k More of a fusion than an AU, but it’s just fantastic!

• A fic you stayed up too late to finish reading: Grounds for Divorce by @tepre HP | Draco/Harry | NC-17 | 122k

• A fic that made you feel seen: Taste the Rainbow by @maraudersaffair HP | Ginny/Pansy | PG-13 | 639

[my-hyperfixation-trash-can]

Hetalia’s Russia and DID/OSDD 1-b

Hey! So @autistic-hetalia your blog said you accept neurodiverse head canons and I thought maybe I could share this one with your blog!

I believe the Hetalia character of Russia has OSDD 1-b (Otherwise Specified Disociative Disorder or possibly DID, being Dissociative Identity Disorder) and this is why.

Just a note,

There is no such thing as an evil alter. Do not demonize people with DID or Other Dissociative Disorders! Those with this disorder are victims of Trauma and are likely to continue being victims of abusers, rarely do they become abusers!

Anyways, -cough cough- I’d love if anyone wants to add to this with more evidence!

1. Russia had a traumatic childhood

He is shown to have had abusive bosses who would punish him. He is threatened by one to invent steam power by the end of the week or be punished. Tartar Yoke mentioned by Lithuania as one of his bosses was also known for his cruelty. So the Authority figured in his youth were often cruel and held power over him.

His environment is cold and unforgiving much like an abusive home. Russia often describes his home as cold, quiet and lonely. He rarely found support from his land and often struggled to get by. The environment and home were harsh with little support. It is also implied he froze to death each Winter, and celebrated the year he didn’t.

This is on top of having to deal with other nations attacking him, making him feel helpless. Many nations “bullied” him in attempts to conquer him. He was mobed and pursed every day by Mongolia. That is exhausting to have everyone around you be a threat. (Lithuania and his sisters were the only nations kind to him in his youth) Early on, he learns that force and strength are what matters.

Next point tw sexual abuse and assault

He also felt a great deal of responsibility to care for his sisters. He was close to them, as they were experiencing similar issues and not violent to him. He had to be the strong one. Belarus and her unhealthy attachment to Russia depending on the age she started her behaviors may have also contributed to his trauma. All of the siblings have unhealthy attitudes towards boundaries with their bodies and the bodies of others, implying another type of abuse. Ukraine and Belarus took victim roles. Russia took on an abusers. Ukraine only ever suggests using her body to get what she wants as if never taught anything else, even as a child that’s what she knows. Belarus I don’t know where to begin, but her staring off is certainly dissociative like, paired with other trust issues. In a diary entry she is stated to have possibly messaged Ukraine’s breasts, once again showing more unhealthy boundaries with attachments to loved ones. Someone taught her that. And Russia, who internalized his abusers, acted out his abuse on others as implied with Lithuania looking distressed dressed as a maid and Russia holding a whip. In another non canon game Himaura worked on, Bulgaria in the bad ending is shown tied up and naked implied to be whipped by Russia as Russia says this is “tradition” or possibly more routine implying this is something he does often.

The idea with dissociative disorders is that the repetitive trauma that happens has to be too much for the mind of that individual child in comparison to the culture they’re raised in, and it conflicts with getting their needs met. And to the countries, all of them know Russia has had a life with far more conflicts in his youth than most, and a great deal of pain.

2. Russia has General Winter (GW for short)

General Winter manifests when Russia is being attacked by other nations in order to defend him, or to be a tormentor to Russia himself (such as freezing him to death each Winter).

This is oddly similar to what is known as a persecutor alter. These alters have the goal in mind to protect the host or body, but they’re a bit misguided in how to do that. They might take on the form of an abuser, or something outside the body, this turns into being an Introject. I’ll post a link to more info on DID/OSDD at the end of the post. The educational videos playlist will have a video on alter roles.

Russia’s bosses often abused him, and if he had an alter like this it would make sense that it would take the form of a general, someone in power who feels so much bigger and stronger than him. A boss who can push him around and make him behave in a way that will avoid further trauma from the real abusers. Winter the season, being another tormenting force of the environment, is another abuser, and it makes sense GW would take that into his identity. Russia feels helpless to it. It is also worth noting that other nations who also had to deal with Harsh winters do not have General Winter as an ally. He only protects Russia.

It would also explain why General Winter protects Russia from others attacking him. He took the ideologies of his abusers to heart, so GW pushes people away and treats them like threats. He feels strong by holding power and fear over others and force. If I can be stronger, no one can hurt me or would dare try, this is the mentality.

I believe GW can manifest as he does because Russia has magic. It’s canon that Russia can do magic or has a strange magic of his own, so whose to say GW can’t utilize it too. Perhaps even to let himself manifest sometimes in his spirit like form. This is more a headcanon or idea though.

Russia himself however is shown to be very passive with his bosses. These are people who hold power over him that he can’t really run away from or fight. So his response is to faun or freeze. This is basically stated in the comics (picture below.) and it’s often that alters have a specific role. Russia’s would be to people please those who he can’t fight. Making General Winter’s job to defend from attack.

3. Russia is shown to dissociate

When he is told to do an impossible amount of work, he just straight up loses himself in a fantasy immediately to escape the reality of the situation. There are other instances too, some in his childhood directly, but this was the most overt. This is from To your Hearts content, Russia!

4. Russia Is Inconsistent

There are times when Russia feels very different from moment to moment.

He goes from open about himself to swiftly sadistic and cold. He has moments of childish behavior to moments of maturity. These, when combined with the rest of my points, are worth noting. He both wants to hurt (possibly destroy) the others, but also be liked by them?

You can’t destroy people and have them like you.

The baltic Trio who lived a substantial amount of time with him still are confused by his unpredictable behavior. Each encounter The Baltic’s have with Russia is marked by a fear of what he might do. And not having certainty, thus they say things without knowing if it’s safe or not.

Even to Lithuania, (Whom Russia often shows Vulnerability to, in moments like bloody Sunday and Sharing his dreams in Outsourcing Sequel)living with Russia feels a strange theme park where he never knew what to expect. Lithuania has been shown to be great in strategy and games of wit, and a commendable leader with great people skills, yet he only has a general idea of Russia’s behavior? He is seen advising Prussia and Moldova that Russia likes it when people laugh or cry easily (This being predictable to Russia and thus easier to navigate social situations with) so it’s not like Lithuania isn’t paying attention. Russia shows moments of vulnerability and his thought process in panels like Bloody Sunday, which is quite telling as to what he believes are his responsibilities, and how the world works.

Now the real question is “why is he like this?”

He only understands the world from the point of view of someone who still lives in the abuse and knows no other options. He never had anyone teach or show him different. His world is ruled by who is the strongest, and if you can obey the strong you won’t get hurt or discarded. “We don’t want children who can’t play nice,” sounds like something an abuser told him frequently in his youth.

Russia just doesn’t have a support system due to his strained relationships with everyone. So he keeps relying on old defense mechanisms, hence letting General Winter step in when something threatens his sense of safety.

Nearly Every time (at least that’s what I noticed) Russia is emotionally vulnerable to someone, he suddenly changes to be sadistic or scary. It successfully pushes the person away and Reestablishes the fear of Russia in the individual, returning him to a state of being feared and alone where none of the other countries can hurt him. Examples below.

France talking to Russia after meetings and asking him personal questions would result in Russia ending the conversation by scaring him with a scsry remark and aura suddenly.

Russia Comforting China after Japan turns on him, he is kind and compassionate at first, but suddenly changes at the end.

The Baltic Trio never knows what to expect. He frequently uses fear and force to keep them.

This behavior seems directly contradictory to wanting friends and having a warm and lively home. So GW still reacts with a trauma response, and Russia reacts in line with his wishes of making friends and having others around him. The Use of force and intimidation is naturally the middle ground between their wishes. Russia believes everyone is his friends, and doesn’t see how his behavior is pushing people away. Other times he seems to want friends to like him back, like when he sent France an anonymously written letter to his radio show. However he has wishes that contradict.

Now, I think he sees friends as people he can keep near him that he enjoys the company of. (This doesn’t need to be mutual or involve trust, just force) but those wants directly contradict.

I think GW is passively influencing him with some of the behavior rather than switching out right, but either option still would have the same effects. Passive influence is when an alter is close to the front, or feels/thinks something strong enough that it affects the person at the front. Making them behave in a way that is ooc for them, but not the other who intentionally or unintentionally influenced them.

This would explain sudden shifts to a cruel threatening position with other nations, something that will most likely always be a threat GW needs to defend against. He is particularly cold and defensive with anyone that has a chance to hurt him, (or tries to look into his psyche) regardless of if they made a move to do so.

More on passive influence can be found in the sources at the bottom under educational playlist.

5. Misc. Points of knowledge

Russia’s character originally was meant to be a cry baby, and only when he drinks, has a complete switch in personality. Frankly I’m glad he was changed to the complex guy we have now. However I think this concept wasn’t fully lost.

His character song, Winter, seems to talk of him experiencing freezing to death each Winter. Further adding to his repetitive trauma.

It is not unheard of for nations to have disorders and conditions. Australia has ADHD, Prussia is Albino, Lithuania has severe anxiety (and possibly PTSD), so who is to say a nation like Russia can’t have a dissociative disorder?

It is stated in one of Russia’s character bios that “General Winter is always with him”, however where? I don’t physically see him, but perhaps we can’t because he’s sharing a body with Russia.

In summary

Russia dissociates under stress

Russia has repetitive traumas and an ongoing history of abuse all his life

Russia has inconsistent behavior and attachments

General Winter could certainly be a separate personality and functions exactly like an introject/persecutor alter would to their host.

Russia acts out and damages relationships, acting in inconsistent ways that might play out his own abuse, and/or reflect his desires to keep others near him.

As a note, I actually have DID, so this could be my projecting, but please don’t yell at me about how I made a “villain” have DID and feed into evil alters and split Stareotypes. I would only like to raise interest and provide an example of what a misrepresented disorder can look like. And the links below are there if you want to make your mind up for yourself and educate yourself if this inspires your portrayal of him! This isn’t meant to be insensitive, I’ve been working on this post for months to word it as sensitive as I could while also acknowledging Russia is still responsible for his and GW’s actions. Saying he has DID isn’t to excuse it, just explain it.

Don’t erase his victims, but don’t erase that he also is one.

(This blog below was also really helpful, but this post covers a lot of Russia’s earlier trauma and his mentality)

https://ellawritesficssometimes.tumblr.com/post/175060886956

Research for DID and OSDD 1b below: (along with links to comics)

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLm56LzW0BA_P7-yL3rK7INZDDozTayJvJ

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/tag/russia/

http://hetarchive.net/tag/russia/

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2013/10/11/blog-entry-1411/

https://hetalia.fandom.com/wiki/Russia

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/01/29/about-the-fact-that-russias-history-is-too-scary/

Below is for an example of dissociation:

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/02/28/to-your-hearts-content-russia/

https://youtu.be/ZV3ToVA5BqQ

https://did-research.org/origin/comorbid/dd/osdd_udd/index.html

[365days365movies]

February 3, 2021: Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

The year: 1986. A small new fictionation is founded as part of a disparate group of similar territories. Near to another civilization founded by Woody Allen (we’ll get to him later this month, whoof), a new settlement was founded by one Nora Ephron. It began with Heartburn, a rom-com starring Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson. While it was somewhat successful, it wasn’t exactly a dynamo by any means. And that is when Nora met the future Empress of her fictonation.

Her name was Meg Ryan, and the film...was When Harry Met Sally.

Ephron only wrote this film, rather than direct it. But it didn’t matter, as this film was CRAZY successful (and I’ll be watching it later this month). Some years past, and both Ryan and Ephron rose in power. Ephron became a director, Ryan became a movie star, and the two pillars would reunite for greater things. And THAT is when the future Empress met her Emperor.

Enter Joe vs. the Volcano, where Meg Ryan...met Tom Hanks.

Now, was this movie amazing? No, not from what I’ve heard. But the two new co-stars apparently made an impression on Hollywood at this point, as their respective stars would only grow brighter. And so, when 1993 came along, the three pillars finally met, and ascended to their true roles as the rulers of a now united Holy Romance Empire. And that film...was Sleepless in Seattle.

Time to witness a nation RISE. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start where all romantic comedies should start: at a Chicago graveyard!

Architect Sam Baldwin’s (Tom Hanks) wife, Maggie, has sadly passed away, leaving Sam and their son, Jonah (Ross Malinger). Sam’s clearly broken, understandably, and he decides to move from Chicago in order to leave behind the bittersweet memories of his wife. And where he’s headed? You know where.

Jimmy Durante’s rendition of “As Time Goes By”

Jimmy Durante sings us in (I love this song, for the record), and we head not to Seattle, but to Baltimore, 18 months afterwards. There, reporter Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) is going to a Christmas party with her new fiancée, Walter Jackson (Bill Pullman), which is announced to great aplomb at the party. Her brother Dennis is played by Niles from Frasier (David Hyde Pierce), and I nearly spit out my sandwich.

That night, Annie’s mother gives her her old wedding dress, and have a VERY frank conversation about their sexual relationships. It is...awkward. Anyway, the dress tears, which Annie sees as a sign. In any case, she still seems happy...I think. On the way to Walter’s parents’ place, she tunes into a radio talk show, where a child is making a Christmas wish to the station.

This child is, of course, Jonah, calling on behalf of his father from Seattle. He tells the host, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone (Caroline Aaron), that his father is lonely after his wife’s death, and that he wishes he had a new wife. She convinces Jonah to put him on the phone, and while he’s reluctant to do so (understandably), he accepts. All the while, Annie’s listening, and seems to sympathize deeply with him and his sarcastic responses.

However, Sam begins to open up, and Dr. Fieldstone christens him “Sleepless in Seattle,” after the fact that he doesn’t sleep much at all these days. His story resonates with a number of people, Annie included. A few people call in to respond to him, and at the end of the call, he describes how much and why he misses his wife. And I gotta be honest, I’m with Annie here. It is...very moving.

Damn you, Tom Hanks, it’s only 20 minutes in, why are you already making me FEEEEEEL?

The next day, it’s a splash, and over 2,000 women call in in response to this. This is discounted by her co-worker and friend, Becky (Rosie O’Donnell). At the New Year’s party soon after, she and Walter make a date to meet in New York City, and register for their eventual wedding. Meanwhile, Sam tucks Jonah in to sleep, as Nat King Cole serenades us (I ALSO love Nat King Cole, real talk) and Sam stares at the fireworks off of his houseboat.

And, mentally haunted by the ghost of his wife, he’s seemingly literally haunted by the ghost of his wife, Maggie (Carey Lowell). The next morning, he goes to help a client, Barbara (Dana Ivey), and his co-worker Jay Matthews (Rob Reiner) with a house, and finds out that everybody knows who he is at this point. Additionally, Jonah also give the radio station their address, and MANY women are now soliciting Sam, including...his third-grade teacher. Ew. EW.

Sam and Jonah next have a talk about whether or not a prospective new wife would have sex with Sam, and I wonder if sexual conversations with your parents are supposed to be this common, or if I’m just crazy. Because me and my Dad? Nuh-uh. And no worries if your relationship with your folks is like this, but mine DEFINITELY IS NOT, lemme tell you.

Annie and Walter prepare for bed, and Ray Charles sings them to sleep, followed by Carly Simon talking about the wee small hours of the morning. During those hours, Annie gets up, also unable to sleep, and turns on the Dr. Marcia Fieldstone show. During the highlight reel for the show, Disappointed in Denver notes that:

Everytime I come close to orgasm, he goes and makes himself a sandwich.

...Wow. Um. Asshole? And then Marcia tells her to make a sandwich for him beforehand, WHICH IS NOT SOLVING THE PROBLEM. Anyway, Sam is also featured in that highlight reel, and Annie cries again as he talks about his wife, and it’s a disproportionately long excerpt compared to the others, what the hell? Marooned in Miami is DISAPPOINTED now.

Annie goes to meet her brother Niles (he’s basically Niles from Frasier, seriously) the next day, and explains that she’s fantasizing about Sam, a man she’s never even MET. She’s also feeling doubt about her upcoming marriage, which is...interesting. I’ll get to that later. In Seattle, meanwhile, Sam asks Jay what it’s like as a single man in Seattle, and they have a conversation about how cute Sam’s butt is. Nice.

Upon the realization that his 9-year old son is hanging out with more girls than he is (yeah, there’s a kid named Jessica hanging out with him when Sam gets home, it’s awkward), Sam’s back in the saddle again (as the song indicates; that said, goddamn is the music choice on the nose sometimes, seriously). He calls a woman named Victoria (Barbara Garrick), and asks her out on a date.

Annie’s watching the movie An Affair to Remember (lateeeeeer) at Becky’s, as she’s lamenting her fixation on Sam, while also struggling to fully understand how she feels about Walter. Becky RIGHTFULLY accuses her of believing in Hollywood, movie love, which is demonstrated by Annie’s meaningless platitudes about her supposed love for Walter. This is while she’s writing a letter to Sam, then aborts it when she realizes what she’s doing. She sits on the couch with Becky, they mouth the words together in the movie, and they cry while I laugh, because that was funny.

Things aren’t as jovial for Sam and Jonah, as Jonah’s had a nightmare, and the two reminisce over missing their mother. Sam notes that Maggie could peel an apple in one long...curly...strip. You mean...like Annie was doing earlier? I see what you did there, movie. I see what you did there. As if to compound their invisible connection, both of them sit on a dock, staring into two separate oceans at night.

Sam proceeds to write a story for the paper on “Sleepless in Seattle,” and through some...mildly creepy personal invasion, she finds his address in Seattle, and a hell of a lot more personal information. Like I said, it’s a little creepy. Sam, meanwhile, is going on a date with Victoria, when Jonah opens a letter...from Annie.

Annie. What’re you doin’?

Jonah appears to IMMEDIATELY ship the two, but Sam quotes the coast-to-coast distance as being a bit too much, and goes on the date with Victoria. While on the date, Jonah tries to hook Sam up with Annie by getting him to agree to take them to New York City on Valentine’s Day. Damn, Jonah, you lookin’ to escape a whale, because you are BUILDING A GODDAMN SHIP

Victoria, a woman with an amazingly obnoxious laugh, does not rub off well on Jonah, or me, or my girlfriend. I’m really hoping that somehow, in SOME WAY, Victoria and Walter get together. He’s boring, she’s obnoxious, who knows? They might like each other. My ship...is being built.

Jonah, meanwhile, is TAKING THE FUCKING WHEEL of this ship. He calls the radio station once again, and Annie is alerted to this by Becky. She wakes up, punching Walter in the process (dude gets HURT), and goes downstairs to listen. Jonah’s telling the station that Victoria SUUUUUCKS, and straight up calls her “a ho.” He hangs up abruptly, and screams to stop his father from kissing Victoria. Annie, meanwhile, listens to this in the closet for some reason.

The next day, Jonah’s friend, Jessica, tells Jonah to send a letter to Annie on his father’s behalf. Meanwhile, Annie flies to Seattle in the guise of doing a story, when she’s actually going to try and meet Sam. Victoria, meanwhile, is leaving from the airport, where Sam and Jonah are seeing her off. Victoria basically implies that she’d like to ditch the kid and go fuck someplace sometime, which might FINALLY rub Sam the wrong way.

Sam talks to Jonah about the fact that he’s dating Victoria, not marrying her, and that she might not be the one for him. He also says that there’s no such thing as soul- 

-mates.

Yeah, they actually did just do that. Sam loses Annie at the airport, after immediately chasing after her. They’re perfect for each other, as Annie goes RIGHT to Sam’s houseboat address. She hangs around the neighborhood, and sees them having fun on the beach together as Harry Connick Jr. plays in the background. That night, she confides in Becky about her guilt in lying to Walter.

And if I can just say this...yeah, THAT isn’t great. I get that there’s some cinematic paegentry to the whole thing, but, like...tell your FIANCEE about your FEELINGS. It’s hard, yeah, duh, but YOU GOTTA DO IT. You most certainly owe it to Walter. At least she appears to know it, though.

Annie at the hotel

The next day, Annie goes once again to weirdly spy on Jonah, and sees him hug a woman very happily, and of course believes that that’s Victoria. However, this is his friend, Suzy (Rita Wilson), who’s visiting with her husband, Greg (Victor Garber). In any case, this leads to Sam and Annie seeing each other for the first time. He says hello. She says hello. Then she almost gets hit by a taxi, and she IMMEDIATELY flies back home WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUH

We find this out later, but the taxi and the fact that all she could say was “Hello” is actually all a reference to the film seen earlier, An Affair to Remember (again, later this month). This is also part of the repeating motif that this film has: signs. Y’know, the kind of “IT’S A SIGN” thing. However, the real twist here is that the signs are the ones that they can’t see. Like the apple and the hello thing. Not yet, anyway.

Also, dear lord, An Affair to Remember is just making EVERY woman in the film cry, even when they’re TALKING about it. And every time, the men just look at each other like “WOMEN, with their EMOTIONS and their VAGOOOOOOS.” Jesus, ‘90s movies. Even JESSICA (Gaby Hoffman), Jonah’s friend, the LITTLE GIRL, is crying at this movie. JESUS, I’m really interested in seeing this movie now.

Jessica and Jonah start conspiring on how to get to New York to meet Annie, and do so by FAKING AIRLINE TICKETS OK THEN. Meanwhile, Annie’s given up on the whole “Sleepless in Seattle” thing, and goes to meet Walter for their Valentine’s date in NYC. Walter rightfully comments that Annie’s seemed distant, and here’s the thing: Walter deserves better than this. Yeah, he’s BORING AS SHIT, but the dude’s committed to her, and she’s amazingly flaky in comparison. I dunno, maybe it’s because it’s Bill Pullman, but I feel bad for him.

Anyway, in New York, the two begin to rekindle their relationship, and Walter gets a ring for her at FUCKING TIFFANY’S HOLY SHIT. Meanwhile, Sam’s THIRSTY AS FUUUUUUUCK, and is leaving to spend the weekend with Victoria, which Jonah is NOT a fan of. This ship is gonna SAIL if JONAH HAS TO FLY TO NEW YORK CITY HIMSELF

So, Jonah flies to New York City himself, in order to...meet his new mother. This movie has some VERY interesting issues, Jesus. Jonah does, indeed go to the top of the Empire State Building to look for Annie, and he asks all the girls on the Observation Deck if they’re Annie. Which, of course, none of them are. Why?

Annie’s at dinner, that’s why, and at the FUCKING RAINBOW ROOM DEAR LORD HOW MUCH MONEY DOES WALTER MAKE? Sam also makes his way to New York, probably to DESTROY HIS CHILD

And at dinner, Annie actually redeems herself by telling Walter the ENTIRE TRUTH about her feelings, and about “Sleepless in Seattle.” And Walter is a CLASSY-ASS GUY ABOUT THE ENTIRE THING, and the two break off their engagement amicably. Annie says that she doesn’t deserve Walter, and BY GOD SHE’S RIGHT. Walter’s a sweet dude. And as soon as they break up...a sign.

Sam finds Jonah on the Observation Deck, and the two tearfully reunite. And as they two unite, and everybody else leaves the Observation Deck as it closes for the night, Annie rushes on her way there. An Affair to Remember is invoked one last time, as Annie convinces the guard to let her up there. But, OF GODDAMN COURSE...she goes up in one elevator, and Sam and Jonah head down in another.

But wait. Isn’t that Jonah’s backpack on the ground of the Observation Deck? 

Yup. THERE’S the happy ending we’re lookin’ for. They finally formally introduce each other, and Sam says that they’d better leave...ALL of them, together. Love at first sight. PLAY US OUT JIMMY DURANTE!!!! And yeah, I know that Celine Dion sings the end credits song, but NOPE! TAKE ME AWAY, JIMMY! MAKE ME HAPPY!

And that was Sleepless in Seattle! And again, I liked it! I’ll get more into it during the Review!

[enigma-im]

Kindle Unlimited Recommendation

Dark Planet Warriors Series

Warning: Gore, violence, some situation of wrongful touching

Summary:

8 stories. The series begins with a bug infestation on the mining station outside of earth. A species called Kordolians are there to be the exterminators. After a meeting with a strange human our primary story kicks off while the bug story plays in background in some stories while being the main focus for several books. The consistent story for the other 8 books is a romance between the aliens and humans that results in a war for purity.

Person thoughts:

Great fuckin series. Almost every book has a different couple with only the very first couple being the focus several other times. First book is fantastic, especially the first sex scene. Its so good. The next few focus on the bug infestation till its dealt with then it gets back to the war. Don't skip them though, Riker is a treat that deserves to be acknowledged. My favorite one of this amazing series is Infinity's Embrace. That book has some dope characters. Electric Heart is my least favorite because it's like a real bad Watch Dogs (video game).

Rating: 9/10

Books:

Dark Planet Warriors

Dark planet Falling

Into the Light

Out of Darkness

Forged in Shadow

Infinity's Embrace

Electric Heart

Brilliant Starlight

Office Alien Series

Warning: Awkwardness, drug use, kidnapping (kind of)

Summary:

Three books about an office relationship with three different aliens. Each alien goes through the venture of courting a human woman. All of them succeed on confusing then educating these people on their culture. All the aliens come from the same planet that has been ravaged by a tough alien species that try to wipe them out with their superior technology. That isn't a plot point, its just an explanation. Each story shows the struggles of cultural differences and how education and understanding can help make the world a better place.

Person thoughts:

I adore this series. One book in this series actually got a perfect score from me, which is strange cause I'm a tough grader. The first book has a super awkward lad who just seems to hate everyone. Its really cute and I like them both though their relationship is filled with cringe. The second book I didn't much care for. The main love dude was kind of an idiot and was too blinded by acceptance to be a reasonable thinking alien. Still decent but Its not my cup of tea. The last one- sweet jesus- was amazing. It has a ‘my cousin Vinny’ vibe with their relationship where they fight often but its like their form of foreplay. So good. There is another series that’s super short that takes place 1 year later for each story. Totally worth a read after you read the series.

Rating: 8/10

Books:

The E.T. Guy

The New Guy

The Security Guy

(Christmas special)

Kraving Khiva

Warning: Sex workers, forced prostitution, abuse

Summary:

Eve is a virgin who is fed up with it. After her father's death she has been ghosting by in life with her best friend. After said friend points out a brothel of some interesting aliens she decides to give the place a try to finally rid herself of her virginity. After just one night she keeps coming back, falling for the sex worker. Romance ensues with lots of strife and abuse to keep the two from their HEA.

Personal Thoughts:

Man, this story represents everything I love in a story. Tons of fluff. It was a really good slow burn that I didn’t expect from a story about a prostitute. The cover gives the illusion of a typical middle aged mother romance - which I guess it is- but it has so much more. I only had one problem with the story, the ending. I felt they could have given more information but they just glossed over it. Besides that, hot book. The second one is really boring, just a slice of life that I couldn't get into.

Rating: 9/10

Books:

Kraving Khiva

Prince of Firestone

The Queen's Ransom

Warning: Near death situations, a lot of near death situations, gore

Summary:

432 pages. Long book. Jalia enters into a competition to win a great prize. The interest of great fortune is too much for her to pass up. Little does she know the treachery the competition hides or the actual prize. The king of Minotaurs is hosting an event to test the strength, endurance, and intelligence of potential wives. In a culture that values strength they refuse to accept a queen who hasn't been tried. Genius Jalia goes through challenge after challenge, nearly dying about every chapter while catching the attention of a charming king.

Personal Thoughts:

I generally don't have the patience for long books but this one never dragged on. Every chapter was captivating and riveting. The challenges were interesting and Jalia's solutions were pretty genius. The relationship between the king and her is pretty grand, I adore them greatly. My only problem with the book is all the potty humor and insults. She was a genius but her insults left much to be desired. Once her biggest annoyance is no longer in the picture does that kind of stuff end.

Rating: 9/10

Book:

The Queen's Ransom

The Kraken

Warning: Gore, racism, attempts of suicide(only 1 book), sassy AI

Summary:

A mysterious creature has lived in the ocean long ago, since the beginning of the settlement on this planet. After a nearly drowning woman is saved a series kicks off. Each book has a different relationship of humans and Krakens. Every book tells the story of how the krakens go from living in isolation at the bottom of the ocean to breeding with humans.

Personal thoughts:

When I first read this story I was just getting into monster romance. The love interests have fairly human tops but hella tentacle bottoms. So I was a little off-put by it but as I read on I didn’t care. The first one is pretty good for a start. The second one was decent, I didn’t really care for it. I actually skipped the 3rd one my first go around. Which is fine, it doesn't add too much and its short. Its still worth a read. The 4th one, fucking grand. 5th one? My all time favorite of the series! If you don't want to read them all at least read the 5th one. Like ask me for story details and I'll give you a cliff note for what's mentioned in that story then you can read in peace. 6th was ok, love the sassy AI. I didn't read the 7th one. Its two old people and I just can't

Rating: 8/10

Books:

Treasure Abyss

Jewel of the Sea

Hunter of the Tide

Heart of the Deep

Rising from the Depth

Fallen from the Stars

Lover from the Waves

Escaping Wonderland

Warning: Sexual assault, gore, lots of sexual stuff

Summary:

Alice is wrongfully placed in a psych ward that specializes in simulation therapy. She is placed in a pod then taken to the world of wonderland. This twisted version of the children's classic introduces a rapey mad hater and manipulative Red King. The main love interest is a playful lad who has more control of the simulation than most. The two run from the clutches of the Red King while trying to escape the simulation.

Personal thoughts:

I had very low hopes for this story. I didn't expect it to be as good as it was. It was a twist on the beloved movie and book. Everything was rapey and creepy and I weirdly loved it. Of course nothing too terrible happened to the main lady so it made those situations more tolerable but only just. I adore the main dude, shadow. He was a playful little mischief maker and I would die for him. What made this book better for me was when everything hit the fan they didn't rid him of his sassy personality. Most books make the cocky, silly, playful personality as something that is bad and needs to change. This one they didn’t and kept it. So good.

Rating: 9/10

Books:

Escaping Wonderland

Infinity City

Warning: Abuse, gore, sexual assault, dope ass fighting

Summary:

A city where criminals are more in control than most people think. Each book takes the reader through different adventure of different people. All having the similarity of protecting the ones they love. The first is of an assassin protecting the only woman who has made him feel so strongly. The second is with a mob boss hacker who grows fond of a shy human. The third is the second in command of the mob boss hacker who finds a pregnant woman in a menagerie and discovers she is his mate. Fourth is one of the workers of the mob boss's security team who gets taken by some slavers along with a woman he was entertaining for the night.

Personal thoughts:

First book sucked. He was obsessives and pretty much took all her choices. It wasn't till the end that he was like "my bad, you can leave if you want". Bleh. Second book was fan-fucking-tastic. Arc is a charming idiot with an amazing backstory. I didn't like the girl in the beginning but she grew on me. I love that he focuses on her but still pays attention to work and his 'family'. The third was surprisingly good. I generally don't like stories where someone is pregnant because they get boring. This one was not that. She was never a hindrance or weak, she was a badass. With her big kitty man they made an amazing duo. Also any scenes with her man and the baby made me tear up. He was so sweet. Fourth was boring, it reminds me too much of a lot of other stories.

Rating: 8/10

Books:

Silent lucidity

Shielded hearts

Untamed Hunger

Savage Desire

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

While people watch TV or Youtube in their free time, I read. I have such a weird organization with everything i read because i tend to reread stories and forget i read them. the entire time i read it im like “have i read this before?”. so for books i write them down, rate them, then review them. i didn’t post the reviews here because it would be so many spoilers. Also i sort my favorite fanfics by fandom then relationship. i read so fucking much, its a problem at this point.

If you liked this recommendation drop a like, reblog, or reply. i will perhaps do another if you all like this. i have read so many books and i can post some decent ones and some god awful ones. perhaps you all can tell me how wrong my thoughts are on the ones i deem terrible. i think we will probably agree, ‘free’ books tend to have lower standards.

[pettyelves]

a man opens a door

three’s a crowd I TW: Sexual themes

A man opens a door.  He is seeking. He is confident.  He is curious.

Shadows consumed the room, bodies-- even the dead ones swallowed up. It was a force of nature, meant to knock the attacker out of not just her mind, but Zelphryin's. The caveat being the transportation. If they were actually moving through space and time, it was unclear-- but to be certain, the Infinite felt real.

Images bombarded him. Chaotic shadowy visions that jittered in whatever manner of vision he was seeing it all with. A massive puzzle box balanced impossibly on a corner, constructed steel colored metal. It rotated endlessly. The vision jumped, as though they were moving inside of it. No clear door, or passage inside. From a dark abyssal floor, rose constructs-- an entire city of pillar, obelisks, platforms. High up, to down below. Nothing made perfect sense. Objects seemed to come out of the sky, or black pit below at random. Buildings wove like mazes on into eternity.  Wherever they were, the influence had lifted from his mind and they stood on an open platform, over looking the life's work of the the Shol'Shar bloodline.

"Why do I get the feeling that we are not in my apartment anymore."

His wonder was to be expected. The construction permeated with raw shadowy energy and was a display of power which any man, particularly one like Zelphryin would be drawn to. While he looked, Mirin took the time to compose herself fully.

"We are inside of the Infinite," she stated, as though that explained it. "And as much as I enjoy being conjoined with you physically, it would behoove us both to locate the host and cast it into the Axis. I encourage you to stick closely to me, lest you be lost inside."

She had never seen him so enthralled by anything. Unlike the stare he gave any woman. Greedy eyes that stared around at everything they could. He wanted to learn this place--he wanted to own it. 

Mirin knew he did not know what it meant to own this place.

"I suppose this is the part where I promise to make it up to you on the later." He said as he came to stand near to her once again. "Will certainly do better at vetting my next communal, no clothes, soiree." He took 

She waited patiently for him. It was likely that the threat was not immediate. Not here. But when he joined her, she twisted her hand  and metal particles constructed a bridge before them. Not only did she seem to own the space, but she had full control of it.

"Oh yes, there is plenty of time to discuss you making this all up to me. My preference is naked, and directly following  some manner of provocation." Though it seemed they were inside of her mind, one distinct thing of note was there was no place where her thoughts echoed loud enough for him to hear. Whispers, faint as though they were held elsewhere in the puzzle box. She moved, her split-pupil eyes scanning above and below for signs of their attacker.

"Well that seems a bit unfair, placing the entire blame on me. Stormwind has a number of cart peddlers, how exactly was I to know she was somehow involved in all the slug fest." He neither really seemed to be helping. Perhaps the longer it took to find their assaulter, the longer he would have to mentally map this; the grand center piece being that of the steel and churning puzzle box like a piece of clockwork. "Had you taken my original offer for the Cock and Candle we certainly would not be in this situation." His lips drew tight as he leaned down over her shoulder. "Now who is to blame?"

Zelphryin was a master of manipulating each and every situation to suit him. There was no winning against him-- yet there wasn’t any losing either. Mirin decided, in for a penny-- in for a whole pound. 

"This was inevitable." She said, stopping on the bridge to push her hands outward. From the bridge, extended more bridges. Each with a doorway to nowhere at the end of it. Now she resumed walking by it. Each door they passed, seemed to glimpse into another reality, another option, another timeline? She explained as they passed them, her arm hooked in the crook of his. 

" If I had not come tonight, she would have found you alone. Inside of the Cock and Candle, distracted by your cock buried in your chosen whore. Your night, ended-- with a Warden's blade in your back. Standing trial for the brutal murder of all the women you had brought to your bed." The options went on. "Had you stayed at home, you most certainly would have fucked a corpse. And in the middle of it, been invaded with naught but me to wonder where you were the next day." And on. "Had we gone together, sharing chocolates with the lovely women we planned to enjoy. Carnage. As an army of puppetted whores turned on each other, on patrons, on me, on you. The would call a massacre the next morning, you and I--captured or dead." They moved on along the bridge and if he thought to look behind him, the way they came looked completely different. It was always moving. "Blame, is irrelevant. I.. am more interested in purpose. Why you. Why tonight." And why had she known about Mirin's father.

At An’Diel Manor, Eilithe had provoked Kurel with a single press of the bare knee to his rough knuckles. He’d sat in his chair with a drink gripped loosely in his hand-- covered gaze our over his kingdom harbor. 

His hand moved flat to palm against the skin of her thigh, up and under the silk of her gown. She stared down at him, and he-- without eyes, back up at her. A smirk formed on either’s face and the night was slated to be spent tangled in their sheets. 

For nearly a month, Eilithe had gone to the city very little-- sent her Whispers, or Mirin to do her dirty work. Instead, she had been doing this. Enjoying Kurel and the little blip of peace that came when things were good. 

Hours later, she was laying half a-top him, nearly put to sleep by the sound of his slow-beating heart. She did not hear the seal-- and so whatever came to Kurel’s ear must have been through a communicator she did not possess.

“What’s wrong?” She asked when he sat up and started to get his things.  "Zelphryin."  Kurel spoke his name with a growling snarl, throwing aside the bedsheets as he moved swiftly out of bed. His next words heard across the seal-- publicly to everyone who was privy to the link. "I nee' available Wardens to the Starse' Reach district stat. Zelphryin's apar'men'. Blow the fuckin' buildin' up if you have to to ge' inside. Issue a new bounty. Dead or Alive. Sin'dorei. Male. Former Gambi' crew member Severin."

"You cannot lie to the Infinite, Zelphryin."

By now there were more doors than there were obelisks and structures. It was loud, whispers from each scenario. "It knows your preferences," It learns them. "It knows the probabilities." She turned, as though she would leave him to keep opening doors. "The power is in the control of it." The power was in the ability to push one outcome over another.

He pressed, like a toddler. For each new option he presented, a new path, a new door presented itself.

A man opens a door.

"In another scenario, I do not leave you at the bath house." He turned his head to the presentation of a new door. "I give you what you want. I have my own fun." He grinned. "My shirt and jacket are not left for you to take with you. The following day, the exchange at the fortune teller never happens. I skip my meeting with Mavas Hawke, rescheduling for later. During the time frame where I would have encountered the cart woman is when I am in Duskwatch. Our paths still converge in the courtyard of Stormwind. Only I had just arrived. If the cart woman is present, she does not interest me. Because I have seen you, before you have seen me.”

He is seeking.

"She tries to get my attention, but she can not. I am too preoccupied undressing you in my memory and constructing my first five reactions and responses to you, while you are preoccupied with spying the evenings entertainment as you had put it.”

"You have no plans to make an appearance at my apartment and I have made arrangements ahead of time at the Cock and Candle, Room 5.”

He is confident.

"Now the cart woman could attempt to still infiltrate the harbor, but at a greater risk with less information. Making it, in this scenario, not worth the reward.”

"In this scenario. We would never be here, either."

 He is curious.

The game he was playing excited her. Not only physically, but in a way she would have struggled to describe. Her teeth seldom showed when she smiled, or in this case, when she grinned. But for him-- in the expanding Infinite, they did. The construct shifted now, bridges bending up and over them like archways that turned.

Somewhere in this maze of mindmap, there was a fraction of an intruder. But it was far out of Mirin's thoughts by now. Caught up in the Droste effect that was slowly forming. The Infinite did not seem to be outsmarted easily, if at all.

She answered him. "You are distracted. By my hand slipped in your pocket, working your cock in the slowest of manners-- to which you protest. I tell you, absently, as I work-- that I felt someone watching me at the Faire. You make no reply, so as not to seem too interested. You in fact, aren't interested. We slip away, she follows but cannot rightly attack effectively." 

"There is no attack that night, no-- but the choices you made. To leave me. There. In the bathhouse. Tonight. To walk me backward to your bed. To undress me slow and indulge in me. There is no other outcome." Her voice was but an echo by then.

The longer they remained. The more questions he asked. The closer their minds became. "And what of your choices, Miss Mirin? What outcomes would they have changed?"

The archway bent locked into place, like they were not a part of the construct. She stood before him, and decided if she would answer or not.

One door opened. "I never come to your apartment, we never rut in your shower, nor meet in the bathhouse. You greet me, incorrectly and are forced in my company for many years to come. You never end here. You never get a taste of power that brushes what your father found, nor have the thought to push even deeper than he went."

"A more concise inquiry." He looked to a door. "What if you never came to Dead Sun at all."

A door dropped squarely in front of him, opening up and obscuring her view beyond it. "It is the Third War. I ignore the Infinite's warning for the first time in my life. I never meet Eilithe Duskbringer, I never return to the Eastern Kingdoms."

If he looked to long, the door was oh so inviting. Visions of warm sands, crystal clear.

"I wander the sands, in search of something that I never find."

Her an echo against his ear, she was moving away from him. Outside, their bodies were slumped in darkness. The corpse, being sucked up into blackness. As though she were falling into the floor, while the other two slept through it all. Severin was in a panic. 

@kurel-andiel​, kurel and zel, @bellwetherspromise​ @deadsunharbor​ 

[vintagediavolo]

You are worth it. (Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254916

***

“Are you alright, Harry?” Luna Lovegood asked while he dipped a ladle into the punch bowl on the table in front of them. He knew everyone meant well when they asked him this question, but as of late, it only served to worsen his anxiety. Just that morning, a concerned-looking Molly Weasley asked him the same question as he managed to eat only half the breakfast on his plate, but he managed to abate her distress with a wave of his hand and a steady reply. 

Did he not look “alright”? Probably not, the voice inside his head retorted. He’d only been able to accomplish the bare minimum of taking care of himself ever since the war ended: brushing his teeth, taking a shower every other day, changing his clothes, and so on (these tasks were easier now that he could legally use magic outside of school, he could admit). Taking a moment to think and take a sip from the paper cup in his hand, mouth puckering at the fruity taste, he turned to her with his eyebrows furrowed. 

“In all honesty, Luna, I don’t know.” She seemed unphased as she, too, reached for her own serving of punch. Her blonde hair fell in ringlets to her waist and her wrists were adorned by a multitude of gold bangles that jingled with each of her movements. 

“That’s not surprising, Harry.” She spoke so quietly that he had to lean in closer to understand her words over the bustle of the surrounding partygoers (the Weasley family had decided to host a graduation celebration). “Your head has been swarming with more nargles than I’ve ever seen before.” This drew a chuckle out of him, but before he could find a clever response, she cut him off. “It’s okay to not be okay, Harry. After everything everyone has gone through, no one is the same. No one would blame you for not being okay.” The words invoked such a feeling in him that he nearly lurched and crushed the cup in his hand, but he managed to keep his stomach from plummeting too far. Studying Luna, he appreciated that no ounce of pity was detectable in her expression. In fact, she looked normal. Or… as normal as a Lovegood could. 

She stood beside him and took a swig of her own punch, eyes trailing around everyone around them. Ron and Hermione were sat at a table not far away, giggling over whatever stupid joke the red-head probably made up on the spot. Harry smiled at the two. He was happy for them. He doubted that Ron would wait long to propose marriage to Hermione, seeing as their relationship progressed swimmingly since the war ended. Not to say that they didn’t struggle--oh, no. The missing hole of one Fred Weasley remained apparent and he knew that it would never disappear. He knew from personal experience that nothing could ever fill that missing space. 

“Harry,” a deep voice said on his other side, making him jump and nearly spill the contents of his cup down the front of him. The voice had grown familiar to him now. A few weeks ago, if you had asked him if he thought he was going to be good friends with the second eldest Weasley, Harry would’ve scoffed. He knew that the man’s heart resided in Romania, and he never thought starting a friendship with said dragon tamer would’ve been possible due to his free-spirited lifestyle. It turned out Charlie took a few months off in order to be with his family after… well. The grieving process would be easiest if the family was together, Charlie explained to him one night as they sat in the front lawn in the damp grass, the red-head’s normal passionate expression completely gone. 

Harry recalled the sudden ache of his heart during that moment. Of course he dealt with his own share of familial loss through his parents and Sirius, but it was different. He’d never been able to form a close relationship with his parents seeing as he was only a year old when they were murdered, and Sirius’s relationship with him was short-lived to say the least. The thought of knowing someone your entire life, to have them be blood-related to you, and then for them to be suddenly taken away… 

Swallowing the last bit of punch, he raised an eyebrow at the man as he turned for a second serving. “Charlie.” He watched Charlie open his mouth with the question posed on his lips “Before you ask if I’m alright, I’ll supply you the answer that no, I am not. But who is, really?” 

“Wow, Harry Potter admitting that he isn’t alright? Did you slip something into his punch? Veritaserum, maybe?” Charlie asked Luna after a moment, who shook her head.

“Oh, no. I was just helping him get rid of some of the nargles.” 

“Nargles?” Charlie asked, and Harry found himself humoured as he witnessed them spiral into a conversation about the creatures that Luna often spoke of. He knew Luna was going to be working with her father to produce the Quibbler now that they graduated, but he wondered if she’d pursue any other career. Harry didn’t even have a single idea for himself. He’d always fancied the idea of enlisting in the Ministry of Magic’s auror department, but he decided one night after a few (more than a few, let’s be honest) drinks that the experiences he lived through was enough excitement for more than a few lifetimes. His next idea was Hogwarts. He was sure Professor McGonagall would have loved to have him as a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he decided that didn’t feel right to him either. He simply didn’t know what he wanted to do. Ron seemed perfectly fine pursuing his original dream of becoming an auror, and he knew Hermione was already working on getting a job within the ministry.

He felt lost. 

Relaxing wasn’t something he was used to. After spending his entire life on edge about a psychotic dark wizard coming after him and having it go away, he didn’t… he couldn’t find a way to sit back and enjoy life. It was weird to see his friends grieve but continue to progress with their lives whereas he remained stuck in this mental purgatory. Seeing a shrink might be good for his well-being, but he didn’t wish to beleaguer yet another person with his onset of issues, even though Hermione had assured him one night that that was their job and they knew what they were signing up for. It still made him uneasy. 

“Seriously, Harry,” Charlie’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you want to go inside or something? You look peaky.” The expression of concern on the Weasley’s face made Harry’s skin crawl. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get used to people being concerned for his well-being, but perhaps that’s what a decade plus with the Dursley’s did to someone’s psyche. He tore his eyes away from Charlie’s, instead easing his own turmoil by studying the freckles that adorned his nose. 

“He’s right,” Luna said, setting her cup on the silk table-cloth. “It’s getting late anyway.” She gestured to the horizon where the sun sank a few hours prior with a jingle of bangles. There was still enough light to make the party visible, but it was fleeting. Fairy-lights that were earlier strung across the garden by Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were beginning to twinkle, and Bill had begun to light the torches that were staked in the ground with a wave of his wand. “No one would think it odd for you to go to bed. Or do other things.” The sly implication of her words and her glance between himself and Charlie made his complexion burst into a brilliant red. Thankfully, Charlie had become preoccupied after Bill had come to light the torch nearest them and started a conversation that was probably about dragons. 

“Luna, he doesn’t think of me like that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Harry. He has an impressive number of fluttering humdingers at the crown of his left temple.” He blinked, not understanding the implications of this whatsoever. Before he could wrap his head around the statement and question her on it, a tipsy Ginny Weasley swooped in, in demand of Luna’s attention. “I’ll see you around, Harry.” He bid her farewell, hiding his smile at Ginny’s antics. She could be an absolute madwoman, and after a generous amount of firewhisky that was no exception. He knew the Weasley woman harboured a crush on Luna just as Luna knew he harboured a crush on Charlie. 

Damn emotions. 

The light feeling within him was dissipating along with the sunlight though, he could admit, and so he resorted to vanishing his cup after making sure the contents were drained and rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He wondered if he should tell anyone that he was retiring for the night, but after looking around and seeing everyone occupied, he deemed it unnecessary. 

Carefully brushing past Bill and Charlie who stood near the back entrance to the house, he caught a few of their words and suppressed a chuckle at the affirmation that they were talking about dragons--Hungarian Horntails, to be exact. Apparently before Charlie came home after the war, the reserve received a few hatchlings of the species and he was recalling them burning the eyebrows off one of the nursery workers through his laughs .An unpleasant shiver ran through him as the name reminded him of the Triwizard Tournament and how he out-flew one of the beasts out of sheer luck. He must’ve stopped on the step amidst his thoughts, and he cursed as Charlie caught sight of him. “Harry. You’re going in? Do you mind if I join you?” He didn’t miss the wink Bill sent his way, but he managed to not get too flustered. Everyone seemed to know something he didn’t. 

He admitted to himself that the two older Weasleys were accountable for his sexual awakening as a teen. Something about Bill’s earring and Charlie’s freckles after he arrived at the Burrow the summer of the Quidditch World Cup made his heart beat faster and… other regions of his body feel a sort of way. He would never admit that to anyone. He could imagine the mortified expression on Ron’s face if he told him he realised he was gay by looking at two of his brothers. His feelings for Bill subsided over time, thankfully (he didn’t wish to cause any troubles with Fleur. Merlin, that woman scared him more than Ginny, and that was saying something), but alas, something about Charlie still made his stomach turn in on itself. A part of him wished that they could start something, but he knew it was unlikely.

He was eight years younger than Charlie, for crying out loud, and who would want to date their younger brother’s best friend. That would just be awkward. And having that younger brother’s best friend be the world-renowned Boy-Who-Lived was the bitter icing on the cake.

“Um… sure,” Harry said. He only planned on going to the bedroom he shared with Ron and writing in his journal for a bit until he lulled off to sleep, so he couldn’t produce an excuse that would drive the older Weasley away. Together, the two of them entered the house and ascended the creaking staircase without a word until they entered the bedroom. 

“Tell me, Harry. What do you think you’re going to do after all this settles down?” Charlie asked, sitting down next to where Harry sat on his bed, who was pulling his journal out from underneath his pillow. He thought for a moment, carefully picking out his words. He had just been going over this in his head in the backyard. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said finally. It was the only thing he could think of. “After so many years of worrying about lives that weren’t my own, I’m afraid I don’t know what to do with myself.” The words rolled off his tongue worryingly easily. It was an effect that often came over him when in Charlie’s presence. Blimey, maybe I should just ask Charlie to be my therapist, he joked to himself. 

“No one is rushing you.” Harry watched as Charlie laid back over the edge of the bed, struggling to keep his eyes from wandering to where the hem of his shirt had risen to display the rigid muscles underneath. They were freckled, he noted. He wondered just how much of the Weasley's body was covered in freckles. Berating himself, he tore his eyes off Charlie in favour of rooting through the bedside table drawer for a pencil.

“I know, but…” He began after finding the writing utensil. “I just feel stuck.” A quiet silence ensued. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but a sense of uncertainty hung in the air that Harry pointedly ignored, instead leafing through the pages of his journal until he found a blank page. Halfway through word vomiting on the paper, pencil scribbling furiously against the parchment, Charlie suddenly sat up, causing Harry to flinch.

“Harry, can I ask you something?”  He could feel the colour draining from his face. Did Charlie notice his, as what Luna described them, “not-so-subtle” glances towards him? Did he think he was gross because of it? What if… 

Charlie must’ve noticed the panicked look on his face. “Harry, what is it with you lately? You were fine with me at first, but… Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Harry shouted, surprising the both of them. Groaning, he slammed the journal shut and put it aside, instead laying his head on his pillow with his eyes shut tight. “Quite the opposite, really.” As soon as he choked this out, he went cold, and he could feel the sweat beginning to permeate his forehead. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and see Charlie’s horrified expression. If the older man wasn’t already put off of him, what would this bring?

“Harry?” Deciding to face whatever this led to--it couldn’t be worse than Voldemort, right?--, he sat up and opened his eyes after an insufferable moment of silence, ready to offer an explanation when the redhead simply leaned forward in a blur of freckles, blue eyes, and tanned skin and simply placed an unchaste kiss to his lips. Brain buffering, Harry looked at Charlie as he broke away with an expression of pure confusion, all the while struggling to speak.

“I.. You.. You just-” Charlie only smiled at him. With no words to be spoken, Harry launched himself forward into the man, enthusiastically returning the action. Charlie’s arms wrapped around his waist and he let himself run his hands through the Weasley’s hair, which was as soft as he imagined. He almost started comparing it to the kiss he shared with Ginny in the Room of Requirement three years prior, but he quickly shoved that from his mind. That wouldn’t be very appropriate, and it made Harry feel a little nauseous if he were to be honest. When they separated to breathe, Harry sighed against Charlie’s lips and let his eyes meet the other’s. On the outside, they were only looking at each other, but they were really conveying all their feelings for each other through that single gaze. 

“Come to Romania with me.” Charlie’s words were quick but loud and to the point, and they caused Harry to tense. Leaning away from him, all Harry could do was look at Charlie with his eyes wide open. He couldn’t feel the beating of his heart anymore and he thought he died for the third and final time, but he knew that was untrue as soon as Charlie’s lips on his neck brought him back to the bedroom. He tried to speak but the Weasley had chosen that moment to open his mouth and place a wanton kiss on his collarbone, tongue sinfully dragging along his skin. Unconsciously, he arched into Charlie and he bit his bottom lip so he couldn’t release the moan that abruptly fought its way up his throat. His fingers dug into the older man’s shoulders and he could feel just how muscular he was.

“B-but… Romania is your space,” Harry eventually said through a heavy exhale, regaining his thought process. “Why would you w-” Charlie suddenly bit the area he had been sucking on and Harry squealed, embarrassingly enough. Really, it was pathetic. Deciding his work was done, Charlie ceased his onslaught for a moment to be serious. He made sure that Harry was looking at him once more.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t like you being with me? Look at us right now.” Amidst their snog-fest, Charlie ended up cross-legged on the bed with Harry straddling him, and Harry blushed as he took notice of the position. 

“Well. Living with me would be more than just this,” he argued. “Oh, I was planning on making that happen.” Harry playfully glared at him but slid off his lap to sit in front of him. Charlie only took one of Harry’s hands in his own and squeezed, encouraging him to talk about what he wanted to. He could see the warring emotions on the boy’s face and he didn’t wish to further overwhelm him. “I just… In all honesty, Charlie, I’m a mess.” All his words were met with was a cocked eyebrow. Harry stroked the large burn scar on the back of Charlie’s hand with his thumb instead of explaining himself. 

He wondered what kind of dragon did it. Was it a blasted Hungarian Horntail or was it some other species? A Welsh Green perhaps… or an Antipodean Opaleye? He remembered reading about them in Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was elated to be teaching about his favourite animals and Harry brought to mind the way Hagrid’s beady eyes shone when he told the class about a dragon he had once met named Norbert. For a moment, he was curious as to if the Norwegian Ridgeback (renamed Norberta as per gender discovery) was still a resident of Charlie’s reserve, but he knew it wasn’t the time to ask.

“Is that it, Harry? We’re all right bloody messes,” Charlie said.

“Yes, but are you sure you want me to be your mess?” 

That was it. That was what he wanted to get out. He knew everyone was dealing with their post-war feelings, but dating him came with everything else that had to do with Harry Potter. “The Boy-Who-Lived”. Oh, how he wished to squash that title out of existence. Charlie would be subject to press coverage and ruthless Daily Prophet article after article. He wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without being recognised as “Harry Potter’s significant other!” and he didn’t want anyone to have to live with that. The press was capable of driving anyone mad, even the most patient of people. An image of an evilly-smiling Rita Skeeter and her acid-green quill popped into his mind and he had to stop himself from shivering.

During the beginning of everyone’s stay at the Burrow, Harry attempted a trip to Diagon Alley in search of a new owl. He was already distraught in this as thoughts of Hedwig getting struck down over the night lights of London repeatedly played in his head, but everything escalated when he was essentially mobbed inside the Leaky Cauldron upon arrival by hungry press reporters and lunatic fans. The flashing lights and bodies pushing against him made him freeze and he could remember wanting to crawl into himself. Thankfully, Tom noticed what was happening from where he stood preparing drinks for people sitting at the bar, and after casting a sonorous charm, demanded they all give him room. 

The paparazzi were unenthused at the order but nonetheless complied, not wanting to get kicked out of the pub. Shaken, Harry merely turned around and disapparated directly back to the Burrow, startling a Charlie Weasley (of course) who was coming outside to fetch Errol after he’d dive-bombed into the dining room window once again. That was their first interaction with each other. Charlie had had a joke immediately forged in his head but upon seeing the dreadful expression on Harry’s face, he forgot all about the old unconscious owl laying in the bed of herbs and the witty words on the tip of his tongue. 

“You?” Current Charlie asked although he fully understood where the younger boy was coming from.

“Me.” Charlie kind of wanted to slap the forlorn look off Harry’s face but he only brought his hands up to hold it, carefully brushing the wild hair from his eyes. 

“Harry, I couldn’t care less about that. You are worth it. Besides, the director at the reserve wouldn’t let any press within 10 kilometres of the place. He is very strict on maintaining the reserve’s privacy.”

You are worth it.  

Charlie began explaining the reserve in detail, but Harry stuck to those four words that he stated so casually. He said them without knowing how much they struck Harry in the gut, but he decided he needed to let the man know. Wrapping his arms around Charlie’s neck, he drew him back in and it didn’t take long before they were making out again. He could taste the butterbeer they were drinking earlier on Charlie, and he wished he could drown in the man for eternity. When he pulled away, he smiled as Charlie chased after him. Ducking, he began kissing the neck beneath his jaw, and he could feel two hands grip his waist. “Okay.” 

Charlie shook at the sensation of Harry’s lips moving against his neck and the way his breath tickled, but he realised what he said. “Okay?” 

“I’ll come with you,” Harry said, a whisper. The blinding smile that Charlie gifted him took his breath away.

“Say it again.”

“I’ll come with you,” he complied, this time a bit louder. They crushed each other in a hug and Harry had to furiously blink away the burning sensation in his eyes.

“What in the bloody hell are you two doing?” The new voice in the room startled the both of them, and they turned to look at Ron, who was standing in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. Before either of them explained their position or why they were wrapped in a passionate embrace with each other, Ron groaned painfully and let his head fall back against the doorframe. “Is that a hickey?” 

Sure enough, the mark where Charlie had bit his neck had blossomed into a red bruise and all Charlie could do was send his brother a sheepish grin. “Sorry, bro. I seem to have taken to your friend.”

“Seriously, Harry? First Ginny, and now Charlie. Are you going to try and seduce me next? Have your turns with the whole family?” Harry was worried that Ron was truly angry, but the tone of his voice relieved him as he could tell the younger redhead was joking. “Sorry, mate. You’ll have to fight Hermione for that one.” They shared a healthy laugh and it was almost odd. Over the growing months, genuine laughs had become rare, but their trio of chuckles sounded natural. Unforced. Smiling, Harry leaned back into Charlie’s chest and closed his eyes, letting Charlie lean down to kiss him on the head.  “Now don’t get too comfortable in here,” Ron said, sounding nervous. 

“No worries, Ron,” Harry said, but he missed the wink Charlie sent Ron over his shoulder that made the younger Weasley look a bit queasy. Nothing “too comfortable” happened, though, much to Ron’s relief. Harry fell asleep in Charlie’s arms and Charlie fell asleep holding him, and Ron cursed himself for not having a camera on hand.

All Harry knew was that he was going to get to start over. Live his own life. Being able to do it with a man he was sure he would grow to love was an added bonus. 

For once in his 18 years of existence, everything was going to be okay. 

(Except for when they told Mrs. Weasley he was going to be moving to Romania to live with her second eldest son, but he’d take that over preparing to fight a dark lord any day).

***

[arigatouiris]

head over heels // b.b — [10]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; mentions of drugs and drug abuse and explicit sexual references; mentions of anxiety, depressive thoughts, suicide, post-traumatic stress; fluff [in later chapters]

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Word count: 1422

Author’s Note: Apologies for the late update omgggg. I hope you like this chapter because slow burns are always the best to read. 

10. story

✿

It had been three long months since the day [Name] had told Bucky she loved him. And it had been three long months since he had last seen her.

Bucky was a fool. Impulses did that to people, impulses drove you to act and behave in a way you otherwise wouldn’t. It was in an impulse that Bucky left [Name] that fateful day after she had cleaned his house and made breakfast for him, and never turned back. His impulse made him forget that she had given him multiple chances despite his past, and he hadn’t been able to do the same for her. He felt worse than he normally would, but for some reason, she had taught him to carry on despite the internal struggles.

The image of her prison tattoo stayed clear in his mind. Prisons don’t tattoo prison numbers on people, she had done it to herself—marking a story she imprinted on herself. It was perhaps so that she wouldn’t forget, a story he had no idea about yet had judged her for.

Steve noticed he was doing better than before, his house was still clean and his mind wasn’t as tormented. He had even accompanied the Avengers on missions, while Steve traveled and learned more that life had to offer him. Bucky now did things he couldn’t before, but the truth was, he felt more depressed than he did before.

When he was not on missions, or was an Avenger, Bucky spent his time teaching martial arts to teenagers. Teenagers these days were unlike the teens from his time—they were brutally honest and were easily distracted. However, they had named him something that stuck; Bucky’s name, despite being ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’ by the kids, was often replaced with ‘cold’ and ‘mysterious’. No one had called him ‘cold’ before, or if they had, at least never to his face.

Every man had his secret sorrows which the world did not know about, and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad.

And his heart yearned for [Name]. He hadn’t allowed himself to step near her cafe in those three months. He had shaved, but hadn’t cut his hair—which had become a signature part of him. Steve never asked about her whenever he was around and kept conversations about Bucky’s love life as limited as possible. He missed her smile, he missed how shy she got sometimes when he’d flirt with her and he missed the times she actually would flirt back.

He missed her silly drawings on his coffee cup, and he missed her laugh. Oh, her laugh could take the very life out of his eyes and he would still want it to be the last thing he’d ever heard. Bucky missed her the way people missed the warmth during winter, not as a choice but more of a necessity—and no matter how filled the rooms he entered were, nothing makes a room feel emptier than wanting someone in it.

That evening, Bucky was walking home after buying groceries for the week. Bread, eggs, basic necessities that had run out. He was never too good at cooking but for some reason, because she had shown him that his house was capable of hosting such necessities, he had never stopped stocking them there. He was several blocks away from BlueBell’s cafe, but that night—his yearning for her was a tad bit different.

Perhaps, it was because he was slowly getting tired of being called cold. He was tired of missing her warmth that had eventually turned him the way he was. A functioning adult, depressed and grieving. He knew the fault was on him for walking out, but he didn’t know what he could do to rectify it. He remembered her words, loud and clear, as if she spoke them to him yesterday, and shut his eyes.

That’s okay. Bucky, everything is alright. I’m here. Always. With your coffee.

Tears filled his eyes but he knew how to not let them fall. He backtracked instantly, the courage he found then that he couldn’t find for three months finally allowed him to rush to the cafe, which was on the other side of the block. He held the bag of eggs and bread tightly, but his eyes were dead fixed on reaching BlueBell’s.

His steps slowed and his eyes widened and his heart picked up pace at what fell before him. There, where the cafe once was, stood another building as if there was no cafe there, to begin with. Bucky’s words almost exited his mouth and a sudden wave of nausea hit him out of nowhere. No, he thought before trying frantically to look for someone who could tell him what had happened. It can’t be, he thought before trying to look for answers in the middle of a concrete jungle.

    “H-Hey—” He grabbed the nearest passers-by before asking fanatically, “There was a c-cafe here…”

The man he had grabbed ushered out of Bucky’s grasp before grimacing and walking away, giving him no answer. Bucky’s heart dropped, there was no way out of this; his desperation had to get him an answer or he knew he would never feel peace.

    “M-Ma’am, t-there was a cafe here—”

    “The cafe shut down two months ago, sir.”

Bucky stilled and watched as the lady walked away, giving him an answer that brought him no peace. His hands felt limp and his eyes were glassy, and his heart thumped inside his chest with no way out. He thought of [Name], of how she walked out that day, the last time he had seen her and he felt rage. He had not stopped her and that was the gesture he was currently occupied with. With that one gesture, Bucky had changed their future and invariably destroyed his own.

He didn’t know where she lived; he didn’t know how to get to her. The cafe was the one thing that linked him to her, and now it was gone.

I deserve this, he thought—feeling the fresh sadness return. He tightened his grip around the bread and eggs and he thought of her laugh. He thought of her words and how they were now a lie. She was not there, always waiting for him with his coffee.

He turned around and walked home quietly, trying his utter best to think of other things. She had so strongly urged him that he could ask for help, that there was nothing wrong in leaning over a friend’s shoulder. She had taught him to smile when things were hard, she had taught him to take care of himself when the world was against him. She had taught him to love himself first before anyone else.

And now she was gone.

It wasn’t always his first instinct to call Steve, but that second, he couldn’t stop himself. It was as if his body grew tired of the decisions his mind was making and was stepping into action on its own. Bucky’s hands dialed Steve’s number faster than his mind could comprehend and it merely took barely two rings before Steve picked his call.

    “Steve, I can’t find her.” He could hear how breathless he sounded, and now the tears were back in his eyes.

    “[Name]?” Steve said her name for the first time in three months, and Bucky’s heart broke.

    “Steve, I need her. I d-did something… I did something terrible… She… I need her, Steve.” He couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t believe he was feeling like this over a woman.

    “We’ll find her, Buck. I promise.” Was all Steve said, glad his friend had reached out to him at last, and finally knowing that Bucky was on the road to healing.

After the call was disconnected, Bucky walked home. He made scrambled eggs with toast for dinner that night, recalling how [Name] believed breakfast food was the best at any time. He ate his food in silence and stared at the opposite side of his table, where she once sat, and simply missed her.

    “I love you so much, [Name]. I’m so sorry.” He said out loud, at last, words that he knew he should have said so, so long ago.

And he knew one thing for certain. He knew she loved him. She made that clear, and he also knew that theirs was a love story that spanned a certain period of time before commencing, and once it did, he knew with all his heart, that it would never end.

✿

series taglist:

@miamua-posts  @yourwonderbelle​ @kissingg-incars​ @tanya-diggory​ @s-0-ldat​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @taliarosej00​ @coraz0ndcristal​ @vlogsquadbss​ @azriels-forgotten-shadow​ @gogoca​ @undiadeestos​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @sakurabl0ss0m​ @twshood​ @mercurybarnes​ @elsie2018​ @tfandtws​ 

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hii! Congrats on 500 followers. For the prompt a thon, I'd like to request a continuation of your Ra'sJay wedding au with Mpreg Jason. How does the batfam and the Al Ghuls coexist?

Thank you so much!

This is the weirdest version of Ra’s al Ghul I’ve ever written but it was a lot of fun so it was a great start to this thing :D

Breakfast Guests - Read on Ao3!

Rating: TeenWarnings: NoneWords: 1600 (because I said 1500 so I really should have known)———————————————

Bruce does not like this newstatus quo.

It’s bad enough when Jason is offat whatever League location he and his… and Ra’s are calling home for themoment.

It’s even worse when they’re atthe manor.

Honestly, when he suggested theyspend more time here, desperate to see his son and his… granddaughter, andwanting to have his family all in one place again, he’d been prepared to makethe concessions for that to happen. Rationalized that at least Jason and hischild would be where he could keep an eye on them. Protect them from Ra’s ifneed be.

To that end, he put them in theroom next to his. All the rooms in the manor are master suites with attachedbathrooms but only Bruce’s and the one next door have additional sitting roomsthat were made to function as nurseries.

That was his first mistake.

They need their own wing of thehouse or Bruce is going to snap.

He pretty much raised four teenageboys in this house. He’d never put much thought into it before but if he hadbeen asked, he would have said that the manor’s soundproofing was on par withthe cave’s.

Then Ra’s and Jason moved in andBruce hasn’t managed a good night’s sleep since.

Ra’s is doing it on purpose. Bruceknows he is. The Demon’s head looks far too smug at breakfast in the mornings.Jason looks tired but blissful. Which is somehow even worse. There are alwaysthe little hints of purple marks that aren’t quite covered by his clothes andhis voice is always raspy.

Do people really scream that muchduring sex? Can Ra’s possibly be so good that Jason gets lost in the moment,forgets where he is, and just lets go?

Bruce shudders and looks back tohis eggs, trying to ignore the smirk Ra’s is leveling at him.

They will be gone soon, hereasons.

Then Jason walks in and he feelsguilty for thinking it.

He likes having his kids aroundmore than he hates hosting their terrible taste in partners.

Aliens, villains, and mercenaries.Bruce resolutely ignores that his own past romances may have made those seemlike acceptable relationships to enter into.

But just like every morning forthe past week, Jason comes down looking sleepy. The dark circles under his eyesaren’t prominent but Bruce notices them. His black curls stick up at allangles, wild and bed-tousled.

He yawns and stretches, making themuch darker purple bruises on his hips peek out from above the green cashmerepajamas. He’s lost most the baby weight but he’s still soft around the edges. Littlelove handles, rounded cheeks, fuller chest. It makes him look… sweet. Almostcherubic. Jason hasn’t looked that gentle since his early days as Robin. AfterAlfred got his hands on the child and got him up to a healthy weight.

Jason makes his way over to thetable to slide up next to Ra’s, sides pressing against each other, as the mucholder man pours him a cup of herbal tea and pulls him close with an arm aroundhis waist before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

These displays of affectionatedomesticity really rankle Bruce’s nerves of steel. It doesn’t suite either ofthem. Ra’s al Ghul is a genocidal fanatic who runs a clandestine society of highlytrained assassins.

And Jason is a gun-toting hero,forged into sharpened titanium by a life of misery and pain.

The way both men’s faces light upwhen Dick enters cooing down at the fussy bundle in his arms, Damian followingclose on his heels, is so off putting it makes Bruce want to leave the room.

“I think she’s hungry, Jay,” Dicksays, gently putting the baby in Jason’s arms when he reaches for his daughter.

“Of course she is. I heard yousneak in at the ass crack of dawn to get her,” Jason says before singing downto his baby, “Uncle Dickie is even more smitten with you than we are, isn’the.”

The baby grins and giggles andreaches up to grasp her mama’s face.

Bruce’s ire has been dissipatingsince the moment Sora entered the room. She has Ra’s sharp features and darkerskin. But her eyes are all Jason. Wide, curious, intelligent, and the same shadeof aquamarine.

The way even Ra’s softens as hewatches Jason feed their daughter makes Bruce relax a little.

He knows Ra’s is purposefullymaking him uncomfortable. Flaunting his… entirely too sexual relationship with Bruce’sson in his face, just to be an ass.

But Bruce also knows that Ra’scares about Jason. And their daughter. Maybe he can put up with the Demon. ForJason’s sake.

If he stops reacting, maybe Ra’swill no longer find enjoyment in his torment. Maybe they can find a way tocoexist.

The al Ghul’s have already agreedto keep their work out of Gotham as a result of this union. Perhaps they cancontinue to move in a positive direction.

“Shouldn’t be too much longerbefore I can start patrols again, boss,” Jason says, still smiling down at his pup.“Just a few more months. Tops.”

The comment snaps him back to themoment. “You plan on returning? But—”

“I would reconsider your approach,Detective. He is quite adamant.” Ra’s goes stiff as he says it. Means it’ssomething they’ve discussed before. Means that Ra’s disapproves but isn’t tryingto force the issue. Letting Jason make decisions about his own life.

It’s something Bruce still struggleswith, people making decisions he disagrees with and sticking to them even whenhe’s outlined why they’re wrong.

But he’ll be damned if he lets Ra’sal Ghul be more understanding than him. And it occurs to Bruce that the wayJason mentioned it was to get the fight out done with and he’s certainly notgoing to be the one to disturb the weird happy family aura everyone is projectingright now.

“We’ve talked about it,” Jason says,still without tearing his eyes away. He’s been in awe of Sora ever since helaid eyes on her. Bruce questions whether he’ll actually be able to leave herto return to his incredibly dangerous night job when the time comes. “I’m goingto move back to Gotham full time. Ra’s will pass most his duties to Talia on aprobationary basis at first.”

He looks up at Ra’s out of thecorner of his eyes with a quirk to his mouth that says he thinks his husband isbeing ridiculous. Then Jason glances around the table. At Dick who is stillmaking faces at Sora, at Damian who is ordering more baby toys from histablet, at Alfred who looks relaxed in a way Bruce hasn’t seen in… well, maybehasn’t ever seen.

Finally Jason’s eyes find his andhold Bruce’s gaze.

“Lots of parents go back to workafter they have kids, B. Especially if it’s something they love doing. I think havingthis will make me a better parent. And Sora has so many people who love herhere. Dick’s already agreed to watch her at least one night a week and let mecover for him in Bludhaven. And Damian said he’d be willing to switch off too,if it was ok with you.”

That makes Bruce’s heart skip abeat. “You want to patrol with me? As partners?”

Jason smiles up at him and it’spurest, brightest thing Bruce has seen on his face since Bruce signed theadoption papers.

“Of course. You’re my dad. It’stime we reconnect.”

Jason refers to him as ‘dad’ socasually Bruce has to repeat the sentence in his head several times for it toprocess. He hasn’t been the best at showing it in the past, but reconnecting withJason, having the family complete again, has been his heart’s deepest desire.

“And once a week you’llstay behind,” Jason adds. “Bond with your granddaughter.”

Bruce is nodding before Jason evenfinishes the sentence. When his relationship with Talia came to and end, Brucewas positive he’d never have to worry about welcoming Ra’s into his family. Itwas, in a small way, after the heartbreak over his split had subsided some,been a relief. The al Ghul’s and the Wayne’s are too ideologically opposed.

But if Jason’s relationship withRa’s (he refuses to acknowledge that his ex’s father is now his legal son-in-law)is what heals the deep wounds between both himself and Jason and Damian withhis family, then he’ll consider that a win. Well worth every concession.

Still.

He fixes Ra’s with Batman’s steelygaze.

The old man just chuckles untilJason elbows him lightly in the ribs. Then he clears his throat.

“I apologize for tormenting you inyour own home. I have been reprimanded and we—” another elbow, “—I willbe appropriately considerate moving forward. You have been a most gracious host,detective.”

Dick and Damian look confused, butthat’s because they don’t share a wall with the new al Ghuls. Jason would bethe picture of calm if it wasn’t for the way he won’t meet Bruce’s eyes and thelight dusting of heated color on his cheeks.

“Uh… thank you,” Bruce says,feeling heat rise in his own face. “I would appreciate that very much.”

There’s a beat of near silence wherethe only sound is happy baby gurgles.

“Well then,” Alfred says as hestands and starts to clear the table, “here’s to a bold new adventure.”

[motivatingspeech]

Who is Tony Robbins: 15 Things You Don't Know About Tony Robbins.

Who is Tony Robbins: 15 Things You Don't Know About Tony Robbins.

Who is Tony Robbins? Tony Robbins is a motivational speaker, best-selling author, self-help guru and a businessman. Robbins was born on February 29, 1960 in California. After a difficult childhood he went out on his own and started promoting seminars for motivational speaker Jim Rohn.  From there Tony developed his own business as a self-help coach and began hosting seminars. His business began to take off when he started producing infomercials to advertise his books and services over the years. Tony has helped countless celebrities, powerful businessman and everyday people through his individual coaching, weekend seminars books and philanthropy. His celebrity clients include Serena Williams, Leonardo DiCaprio, Oprah Winfrey, Bill Clinton, Chuck Liddell and Hugh Jackman, over 40 years in the business he remains as relevant and successful as ever, where the net worth of around four hundred and eighty million dollars and about thirty million earned annually.

Let’s look at the 15 interesting facts you didn’t know about Tony Robbins:

1. Tony Robbins’s mother kicked him out of the house as a teenager. Tony's parents divorced when he was seven and then his mother had a series of boyfriends and husbands. One of her husband's was a semi-professional baseball player named Jim Robbins who legally adopted Tony when he was 12. When his adopted father abandoned the family, Robbins had to step in as a provider and worked to support his siblings. His mother turned to alcohol and prescription drugs and Tony described his home life as chaotic and abusive. When he was 17 years old his mother chased him out of the house with a knife and Tony never returned. He reconciled with his mother much later and even bought her a beach house in 1991. 2. Tony Robbins grew ten inches in one year because of a tumor. Everyone knows that Tony Robbins is a really tall but most people don’t realize this is due to a medical condition in his sophomore year. In high school Tony was Five feet one inch tall and over the next year he grew ten inches. Nobody knew at the time that he had actually had a pituitary tumor that caused the growth. His height is now six foot seven. 3. Tony Robbins worked as a janitor after he was kicked out of the house. Tony took a job as a janitor where he was making $40 a week. He then started on his own career path when he started working for a motivational speaker Jim Rohn. His job was to call people and convince them to go to Jim’s motivational seminars. Jim took him under his wing and taught him to not ask that life would be easier but that he would be better. 4. Tony Robbins started gaining recognition when he cured somebody’s snake phobia in 15 minutes. When Tony made the claim that he could cure somebody's phobia in 15 minutes, he was publicly attacked on the radio by a psychiatrist who said he was nothing but a charlatan and a liar. Tony challenged her to bring her patients suffering from a phobia of snakes to the Holiday Inn and the following night he would prove himself. It became a bit of a media spectacle but Tony was up for the challenge. The woman who had been suffering from a paralyzing fear of snakes for seven years was cured by Tony in less than 15 minutes and actually allowed Tony to wrap a snake around her shoulders with no fear. Accepting challenges became a signature move of Tony's and helped to elevate his career. 5. Tony Robbins charges businesses a consulting fee of 1 million dollars for his services. Among his other endeavors Tony offers executive consulting and business coaching services. Tony has trained a number of coaches that can be hired by businesses through the Tony Robbins results coaching program. But if you want to hire Tony himself, you have to be ready to pay up. Tony is the most expensive business coach with a fee of 1 million dollars per year in addition to sharing the company’s profits for the year. He claims he can bring a return on investment of up to seven hundred percent more than the initial investment. 6. Tony Robbins plans to feed 1 billion people in the next 10 years. Tony was extremely poor growing up and his family struggled to buy food. When he was 17 and first started having money himself, he paid for two family’s Thanksgiving dinners. The next year he fed for families and tried to double it every year. When he found real success he started buying Thanksgiving dinner for four million people every year for 12 years. When he received a five million dollar advance for his 2017 book called unshakeable your financial freedom playbook, he gave all the money to a charity called feeding America. He then asked the group how much it would cost to feed 100 million people and he says he wrote them a much bigger check to make that happen. He plans on feeding a billion people over the next 10 years. 7. During one day of his seminar Tony’s activity is the equivalent of running a marathon. Tony says that on his most intense day in his seminars his activity is the equivalent of running a marathon. He is very active during his seminars. Running and walking and interacting with the audience. He regularly does 27 miles in one day all while staying on stage and presenting his program. The activity does take a toll on his body but Tony says he uses cryotherapy to help his body recover. Cryotherapy involves getting into a machine for an intense several minutes. While your body is cooled with the use of liquid nitrogen to temperatures that are sometimes even colder than negative 200 °F. 8. Tony Robbins owns a mansion near Palm Beach Florida. Tony travels about 200 days a year. But the other days he comes home to a twenty four point seven five million dollar beachfront mansion in Palm Beach County. He looked at 88 properties in three states in just three weeks before purchasing the newly built home and he decided to move to Florida because they have no income tax. He stays in the first floor master suite and there are five additional bedrooms upstairs. Other features include an infinity pool. Nearly 200 feet of private beach a 50 foot boat dock and two acres of land. 9. Tony Robbins’ favorite music artist is Diddy.  Tony thanks listening to music increases productivity and can provide motivation. He loves rap music and says he especially loves any song by Diddy.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   10. Bill Clinton called him for advice before he was impeached. In 1998, Bill Clinton found himself in hot water when he lied about his relationship with Monica Lewinsky. While giving testimony in a sexual harassment lawsuit filed against him by Paula Jones, the night before he was impeached. Clinton reached out to Tony Robbins and asked for advice .Tony told Clinton to think about what he wanted his legacy to be and to choose his actions carefully because at the end of the day he had to be able to look himself in the face. 11. Tony Robbins declined to help Alex Rodriguez, a.k.a. A-Rod. Tony is approached by an untold number of people every year who want his help and advice one person who reached out to Tony was former Yankees baseball star Alex Rodriguez. Otherwise known as A-Rod. He called Tony while he was caught up with some controversy while he was still a part of the Yankees. But Tony said he simply didn't have the time to help him. 12. Tony Robbins owns a five-star resort in Fiji. Robbins's favorite place in the world is the Namale Resort and Spa in Fiji. He loves it so much that he bought it. The five-star all-inclusive Resort is where Tony hosts some of his life and wealth mastery seminars Oprah listed the resort as one of her favorite things in 2012. But you practically have to have Oprah’s deep pockets to stay there. A one night stay in June starts at 1145 dollars. 13. Tony Robbins first declined his role in SHALLOW HAL. Tony Robbins plays himself in the 2001 Farrelly Brothers movie Shallow Hal. But it took some convincing at first he declined the role because he wasn’t interested in acting. But when he received the script and saw the message of the movie was embracing inner beauty and not being a surface driven person he reconsidered. What really convinced him to do the movie was finding out that the writer of the script had purchased Tony’s personal power audio program often infomercial years prior. However Tony was not a fan of the lines written for him. So he asked if he could improvise. He said that when he smacked Jack Black on the head in a scene and said Devils come out that Jack had no idea was coming and the reaction on camera was real. 14. Tony Robbins bought a private jet in 2015. After years of flying commercial and chartering private jets Tony finally decided to buy his own. He bought a Bombardier Global Express XRS from Micky Arison, the owner of the Miami Heat and the Carnival Cruise Line for an estimated cost of 50 million dollars. 15. Tony Robbins met both of his wives at his seminars. He met his first wife Becky Jenkins at one of his seminars and they married in 1982. He adopted the three children she had from her to former marriages. While married, he had a child with a former girlfriend Eliza in 1984. Their son's name is Jarek and is now a motivational speaker as well. Tony Robbins divorced his first wife in 1996 and met his second wife Sage Humphrey in 1999 at another one of his seminars. The two were married in 2011. So, these were some interesting things and facts about Tony Robbins. Hope you liked it. Here’s a fun fact about Tony Robbins:                                                                                              Tony Robbins once said that if he could change one thing about himself he would make himself smaller so that he could fit into normal cars and clothes. Read the full article

[kokkoro]

you and me (were meant to be) (1/3)

Her name is Clarke and she likes coffee and it takes you half a second to decide you like her.

or the ‘i just met you but there’s this couples contest on campus rn and all my friends are busy and you’re just sitting there reading on the quad, pls the prize is a Technivorm Moccamaster KBT 741 and my coffee machine broke last week and im dying pls i need my coffee’ au 

(aka the couples competition au) (on ao3)

If asked you would say you were bribed. Or blackmailed. Something dramatic like that. Except you don’t even like coffee and the last time someone tried to force you to do something you didn’t want to do they ended up with a fist to the face and a bloody nose. What you do like though are pretty blonde girls in loose button-ups and tiny jean shorts and backward snapbacks, so in hindsight there really was no hope for you.

So you say yes, and it's this wobbly cracked thing that stumbles from the tip of your tongue in two pieces that’s only halfway out your mouth by time she’s pulling you to your feet.

“Come on,” she says, urging, her lips halfway to a grin and you’re already lost. “The competition starts in ten and we still haven’t signed up.”

You’re pulled from your spot in front of the library and into the thick of things without warning and she doesn’t let go of your hand in what you assume is a precaution against losing you to the droves of people congregating on the quad. This is what you imagine a stampede to feel like, the cacophony rattling and your breath lodged just below your throat, but you focus on her hand and everything thins. It’s the beginning of October, right when the chill of oncoming autumn is contested only by the sun’s last attempts at summer, but you know it more commonly as homecoming week.

There’s stands with food and drinks and the art students have dragged out displays and people crowd in a manner that makes at least some semblance of sense. Clubs and various organizations shout to be heard above the ruckus of the radio club, vying for the attention of the incoming freshman who wander through the chaos like lost souls in the styx.

You see the queue for the line by the practice field. It’s not long, but the sun’s in your eyes and Clarke turns the hat on her head to block it. She fiddles, lifting and shifting until it rests the way she wants it. It sits a little askew, her blonde hair ruffles and curls.

“Have you done this before?” she says.

You look away only to settle on a burly young man attempting to rip his shirt off, and you turn back to focus on Clarke. That’s also a terrible idea, so you shift to watch the line steadily move forward. “Gotten drafted into a couples competition by a stranger? No, I haven’t.”

“Enjoyed the festivities I mean.” Clarke says, and the small smirk she wears means your attempt at humor went better than planned. “Did I drag you away from something important?”

“Not particularly.” You’d actually be apart of it if you hadn’t been coerced into delegating the task to Anya. She had said you needed a break. Really, you think she just gets off seeing the freshmen's faces when they meet you for the first time and are lulled into a false sense of security. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it amusing in some ways.

“Good.”

The silence picks up, interspersed by the low chatter of the couple in front of you. The girl giggles, tucked into the side of her boyfriend and he bends to whisper something into her ear before pressing his mouth to the side of her head. She swats at him playfully, but her retaliation doesn’t last, her arms wrapping around his torso.

“Why me?” you ask softly and Clarke brows scrunch, confused, so you squeeze her hand and repeat: “Why me? Surely you’d have a better chance with someone else.”

Clarke snorts and looks ahead, standing briefly on her tip-toes to peer around the people in line in front of you, tilting the bill of her hat back. It’s another second before she says, nonchalant, “And be utterly heteronormative? Please. I didn’t spend my high school years struggling with my sexual identity to stop here.” She glances at you and maybe you’re imagining the way her eyes dart to your lips. “Plus all my friends were busy.”

Your heart thuds, a quick one-two beat, and you feel lost. It takes a second to pull yourself back. “What makes you so sure?”

“About what?” Clarke says with a slight smile.

You watch her watch you. “Me.”

“A hunch?” she says, raising her shoulders in an innocent shrug. “Am I right?”

She is. God, she is. Your eyes dart to her lips--to her eyes and the faint flush dusting her cheeks and you swallow before tearing your eyes away, but she lets out a small laugh and you’re right back to where you started.

“You have rainbow pin on your bag,” she points out, her voice soft and unassuming, and you look down despite knowing what you’ll find. You completely forgot you had that. “I figured the odds were in my favor. But if you’re not comfortable with, uh, this… thing, I… No hard feelings, really. You don’t have to do this.”

You move another pace forward, tugging her gently forward with you. You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. “I want to.”

“Okay,” Clarke says, a grin slow to form on her lips. She squeezes your hand and you feel it light a fire in you. “Then lets kick some ass.”

You’re still staring at her by the time you make it to the front and the guy behind the table at the sign-in tent can’t keep the wry smile from his mouth. He taps his pen against the plastic fold-out table. “Welcome to the annual Official Unofficial King and Queen Competition. . .ladies,” he says, and Clarke scoffs quietly next to you, her thumb passing restlessly back and forth across your knuckles. “Here to sign up? You’re just in time. Names please.”

“Clarke and Lexa,” Clarke supplies easily, and the guy mmhmms as he scribbles chicken scratch onto a ledger. You catch Clarke eyeing the impressive coffee machine up for grabs, this superfluous monster of a machine that you’d swear could sooner do your taxes than make you a cup of coffee.

“Nice to meet you, Clarke and Lexa,” he says, peeling off two stickers from a roll by his right elbow and holding them out to you. “Stickers where we can see ‘em, alright? You can leave your belongings here is you want and the competition starts in five. All couples should be by the platform on the practice field by the start time, you know the deal. Good luck guys.”

You take yours somewhat awkwardly, stuck to your index finger, unsure of what to do with it until you see Clarke place hers on the sleeve of her button up, patting it down with this small determined look on her face. You place yours on your stomach, over the loose white tee you’re wearing, and then hand over your bag for safe-keeping.

Clarke takes your hand again a second later like it’s already a habit, threading your fingers together and wiggling, and you allow yourself to be led. From what you can see, the practice field is set up accordingly. There appears to be what seems like an obstacle course made out of some of the old football equipment set up at strategic points on the field. Even the few rows of bleachers have already started to fill out with spectators. They’re either friends of the competitors or those with down time during the festivities and looking for a laugh.

You’re not unused to the attention though it’s hard to not find it a tad unnerving. This is nothing short of a spectacle, meant for entertainment and the emotions and thrill competition brings, perhaps at the expense of your pride. You’ve learned from experience not to let it get to you. It makes you impulsive, a little bit reckless, and that’s not something you are. But now, as Clarke leads you up onto the platform and the adrenaline begins to prickle to life under your skin, you let it. You have a feeling you’ll need it.

The group of couples line up in a row and you and Clarke find a spot near the end of the line as one of the last few onto the stage. She sticks close, her arm around your waist and this small determined grin on her face as she scopes out the competition, looking up and down the line appraisingly. Watching her drowns out the noise, the persistent chatter of the other competitors and the far off white noise of the people filling out the stands.

Confidence looks good on her.

She snaps out of it the second someone tests the microphone and the sound blares loudly, her arm tensing around your waist. A few boos and curses issue out from the stands and your host, a tall, bright eyed man with shaggy hair and a slight beard, laughs. He shakes it off, tapping the microphone one more time to make sure it works as intended, before spreading his arms wide.

“Welcome!” his voice booms over the speakers, voice low and powerful, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You can feel the sound in your chest. “To the annual official unofficial Polis U King and Queen Competition!”

The man takes a moment to bask in the noise, scanning the crowd, smiling as random onlookers take notice of the commotion and try to find seats among the madness. “Today, these young lovers will seek to prove their worth in three grueling tasks for the right to become this year’s top couple. So sit back, relax, pick a favorite, they’ll need all the help they can get.”

“Are you ready?” you hear Clarke mutter, just barely over the noise, and you dip your head, angling towards her. You try not to look at her, but she turns to you then and your world seems to crumble, leaving nothing but the sight of her looking back at you.

“I was born for this, Clarke,” you tease, and her lips stretch into the widest grin.

“--first,” the hosts voice cuts through your self induced fog and you look back up and out over the crowd, trying to ignore the way Clarke holds you tighter. “Let us weed out the weak.”

A stagnant pause hangs over the training field

“Contestants!” the man continues, and there’s a certain satisfaction you find in the way a few of the men in line jump at the words that travel over the loudspeaker. “Spread out before you is an obstacle course designed to test your physical limits. Men, and women,” he corrects quickly at the sight of you, “must carry their ladies safely all the way across field to the end. But the catch,” he motions to a helper down on the field and they quickly toss up a brightly colored beach ball, “is that this must as well.”

“You are allowed,” he continues, “to use this ball to knock the other competitors ball out of their hands. You may not tackle, hit, or otherwise hurt your fellow competitors, but besides, be one of the first fifteen couples to cross the finish line and you’re through.”

Clarke pokes you in the side as you and the other competitors are herded off the platform and down onto the field. “How fast can you run?”

“Fast enough,” you say.

“I say we book it. Let the rest fight amongst themselves.”

You fight back a smile as you watch her out of the corner of your eye, taking a knee once you arrive at the starting line. You brace your hands against the grass and Clarke clambers onto your shoulders, her touch light against your back. When she finally settles, hands on your head, you hook your arms around her thighs and try to make sense of the extra weight. “Ready?” you say, tilting your head back and tapping her leg to get her attention. From the look on her face, you have an inkling she might be afraid of heights. “on three, two, one--”

You stand and Clarke’s grip tightens on your hair briefly, fingers tugging a bit at the strands, before the tension relaxes. She gathers her bearings, legs clenched around your shoulders, feet hooked on your sides. Any tighter and the circulation to your arms might cut off, but she takes a moment to center herself.

“I’m good,” she says, a bit too quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”

She holds out her hands and one of the event staff tosses up a blue beachball that she catches just barely. She lets out a slow breath, nodding to herself, and clutches the ball to her chest.

You find your place behind the line, watching the others settle in beside you. Some look lost. This palpable apprehension that seems to take hold in their eyes. They won’t make it twenty feet, you’re sure. The tall dark man with the broad chest and the small firecracker of a woman on his shoulders not ten feet down from you, however, is another story altogether.

Everything drowns away the second the countdown starts over the speakers. You feel kind of stupid, but there’s a pretty girl with her legs around your neck and everything else seems to fall away in comparison. She’s warm. Not to mention probably more embarrassed about this than you. Or at the least that’s what you find yourself hoping the second the countdown reaches zero and you bolt off as fast as you can towards the finish line.

Only to make it two feet before someone comes running at you from the side with a yellow beachball.

You manage a strangled “Clarke,” and she turns.

There’s a split second you take to brace yourself and Clarke is just as fast. She meets the impact head on, leaning in with her weight as you lurch to the side. The resulting impact causes the couple to jerk back and without the necessary balance they topple to the ground.

The crowd roars.

“Motherfucker,” you hear Clarke huff under her breath, and you try and fail to wipe the smirk from your face.

It’s awkward running with someone on your shoulders, you realize. You’re scared she’ll fall off, but if the numbness you’re beginning to feel in your arms is any indication as you step through a rows of tires spread out past the twenty yard-line, you think she’ll be okay.

You hear a chorus of shouts among the cheers from the stands and the slightly unnerving laughter behind you, but you don���t look back, keeping your focus on putting one foot in front of the other. You stumble out of the last tire and Clarke’s free hand is quick to tangle itself into your shirt to keep herself upright. It rubs roughly against your collarbones, and if nothing else it reminds you to breathe.

“Lexa,” she says a little breathlessly, releasing her hold. You feel her shift to glance at the commotion behind you, and you’re not sure if she’s scolding you or warning you as you sprint headlong into a barrage of standing football dummies.

They’re placed close together, which is good for you if a bit ridiculous to think about. Blue, red, yellow, red, blue--they pass in a blur, knocking against your elbows and Clarke’s knees. Somewhere to your left you have a feeling someone is close behind and when you burst through the thick of it you feel a little disorientated. The other couple overtakes you, taking advantage of your sudden stupor, and you know that means the others are not far behind.

You don’t remember the rest. It flies by as you attempt to gain back what you lost, unaware of much besides Clarke urging you on and the finish line not ten yards away. You come in second and you don’t realize you’ve finished until Clarke’s gleeful yelp, too focused on getting back the air you lost in that last made dash. She drops the beachball unceremoniously in favor of wrapping her arms around your neck and it only makes it harder to breathe. The sudden stop in forward momentum and the enthusiasm of Clarke’s excitement however, is all it takes to cause you to trip.

It’s much like crumbling, undignified and maybe a bit embarrassing. You manage to land somewhat on your butt, leaning heavily on your left arm with Clarke draped over your right shoulder and half in your lap. She’s laughing though, this bubbly thing that’s more a snort as she tries to pull herself the rest of the way over your shoulder. To little success. You try to help her and she nearly elbows you in the face.

She rolls off eventually, somersaults onto her back in the grass, her head near your thigh. She’s red in the face, hair wrestled free from the hat that had tumbled off just moments ago, and her chest heaves in gulps of air under her nearly untucked up button-up, but her smile -- god, her smile.

You lean over, blocking out the sun, breath coming in much more manageable intervals and wait for things to settle. Around you, a few more couples come running in and they’re careful to keep clear of the both of you. It’s a hard won break and you’ve earned these few moments of respite.

It’s a moment or two before Clarke finds the wherewithal to move, taking one last deep breath before propping herself up on her forearms. She smiles at you this time, little bits of grass in her hair, and it’s almost as if you’re the only thing that matters to her.

Standing, you brush the dirt from your palms on you jeans, and you pretend you don’t notice the way she watches you. Casually, cautiously. The curiosity in her eyes is hard to mask and you  don’t think she cares. You bend to pick up her hat, smacking it against your thigh to dislodge the bits of dirt and grass and when you offer her your hand there’s no hesitance when she takes it.

“Thanks,” she says, finally back on her feet. She’s close and her words are soft and you give back her hat wordlessly. She flexes the bill until she’s satisfied with the feel, and you brush a few blades of grass from the strands of her hair. The grin that captures her lips is slow and soft like honey, and you’re surprised by the way it has you yearning. “What a way to kick things off, am I right?”

“I don’t do things moderately,” you say, tilting your head and taking the time to observe her back.

She looks up at you, amused. “Neither do I.”

Clarke turns the hat around in her hands, fiddling with its weight that she’s so suddenly taken by. You see the decision she makes then though. How it begins with this little nod and the determined set to her lips, and how it ends with her hat on your head.

It’s the moment you realize you want to know what it’s like to kiss her.

You’re herded back towards the other side of the field before you have a chance to really think about those thoughts. That doesn't mean you let go of Clarke’s hand even though the opportunity presents itself. You quite like how she twines her arm with yours and the gentleness she has as her thumb passes over your knuckles, soothing. It’s unconscious, like breathing, and so is the small peck you press to her temple as you wait--offhand and it surprising even you. You pull away, pretending to focus your attention back on the emcee.

The problem with that is, you find you only half pay attention. The announcements are background noise compared to the softness of her touch and you have to wonder if she’s aware of what she’s doing to you. It’s a tragedy then, that Clarke lets go of your hand long before you’re prepared for it and you look at her in mild confusion as she slips her fingers from yours. She gives a small shake of her head, brows knit adorably as if to ask what’s wrong, and you find it’s hard to voice the truth.

You watch as she accepts a blindfold from one of the event staff as he makes his way through the remaining couples and there’s no hesitation as she goes about securing it round her face, blocking her eyes. When she lets go it slips down over her eyes and this low laugh escapes you before you have a chance to reel it back in.

She looks at you disappointingly but lets you position her in front of you as you go about untying the knot she made.

“This is--” you give a generous tug and it holds tight “--quite the feat you’ve managed here, Clarke.”

“It’s tougher than it looks,” she says. You can’t see her eyes, but you can see the smile that curls the ends of her lips.

“I’m sure,” you mutter back, struggling for a few more seconds until the knot gives and you’re able to pull the fabric free.

You keep Clarke close as you reapply the blindfold to her eyes, laying it gently across the bridge of her nose and over her eyes. You secure it with a simple knot, careful to avoid getting the strands of her hair caught in the tangle.

“Everything feel okay?” you ask, running your fingers through her hair a few times to tame the mess you made. She doesn’t bring attention to it and you drop your hands from her hair before they betray you and they drift down to her lower back.

“Fine,” she says, and her head turns towards your voice. “It feels fine.”

You smile and it’s something you’re glad she can’t see. “How many fingers am I holding up?” Your hand near her back stays where it is, too content with the contact as your are. The other however, doesn’t move from your side. It’s a simple thing to forget to mention.

She hums, even though you’re sure she’s rolling her eyes at you from behind the blindfold. “Four.”

“Good guess.” You watch her lips curl into a grin, only vaguely aware of her left hand as it finds the fabric of your loose shirt and holds on. But you are all too aware of the feelings it ignites in you. “But no.”

Clarke huffs, though she looks unbothered by the development, stepping in closer so that she’s just shy of touching you. She smells like too much sun and the warmth it settles in you simmers just below your skin. If Anya could see you now, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Do you trust me?”

Clarke shrugs, leaning forward so that her nose bumps your shoulder. “Sure,” she says, the word muffled by your shirt. “I trust you.”

The noise over the microphone drowns out the words you don’t get to say, and Clarke picks her head up from where it was tucked against you. Her eyebrows furrow, concentrated, and you figure you should do the same.

There’s seven items down by the stage about a hundred feet away and while you and the remaining fourteen couples had rested and prepared, the event staff had taken the time to litter the open space with a new set of obstacles. Still mostly random football equipment (and a couple blow up halloween decorations) it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll have to guide Clarke through it by word alone.

You lead Clarke to the starting line, keeping hold of her hand until the emcee announces the countdown to start. When you let go, she looks a little lost without a tether to you, but there’s no time for reassurances as the air-horn sounds and the chaos erupts once again.

“Clarke--”

She locks on to your voice immediately, sight trained in your general direction. Among the slew of other voices, you wonder how she managed it, but she wastes no time in moving towards you. Her determination is to be admired at the very least.

“Clarke, slow down.”

“Not helping,” Clarke says in return, voice strained and arms outstretched, but she heeds your suggestion. “We don’t have forever, Lexa, where am I supposed to go?”

You take quick stock of your surroundings--the other stumbling couples, the tires and football dummies and random beachballs--and come to a quick conclusion. Just because you can’t lead her through it yourself, doesn’t mean you can’t walk it with her.

You stand in front of her, counting your steps until you can’t move forward anymore, a large blue football dummy blocking the way. “Six steps forward,” you call back to her. “No--no,” and she stops, “--no turning, just forward.”

Clarke huffs, but starts back up immediately, careful to keep in a straight line, and you get out of her way. She stops a bit short of the dummy, but for the most part you’d consider it a success. “Now what?”

“One big sidestep to the right,” you reply, and then you start all over again.

There’s a process to it, an almost rhythm that the two of you settle into as you make your way through the makeshift course piece by piece and Clarke listens intently. Without touch it’s a slow careful pace. By the time your feet away the crowd is a constant stream of shouts and you struggle to be heard over the chorus.

The moment she picks up the stuffed animal by the stage, the first sound of the air-horn blaring out across the practice field, and she tugs down the blindfold to see the evidence in her hands, the realization is slow to come. But when it does, it’s all consuming.

Clarke looks to you with wide disbelieving eyes and then back to the toy in her hand and lets out a little scream. Her body buzzes with energy, high off the feeling, and hurls herself at you, arms cinched around your neck and pulling the air from your lungs.

You stumble a few steps back, your right hand reaching up to stop her hat from falling off your head while the other finds its place around her waist. It keeps the two of you upright in the rush that follows. It doesn’t temper her excitement, however. In fact, it heightens it, and she bounces on the balls of her feel while her hug reaches bone breaking levels. You feel as if you’ve run another mile, but you consider the reward worth it.

“Clarke,” you say, and it's breathy from the air you can’t seem to inhale and she pulls away still holding your hand.

She studies you for a moment before shifting her attention to the field as the other couples snag the remaining items to qualify them for the next round. There’s a fire in her eyes and it burns when she turns back to you. “I think we can win this.”

You exhale and it escapes quietly among the noise, but you watch her and it’s her windswept hair, flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Her breathing comes in long steadying inhales, as if she’s collecting all the courage there deep in her gut. You wonder if that’s how it works; through sheer force of will.

“Does that mean you doubted me before?” you say, teasing, and she tugs the bill of the hat down over your eyes. Warmth floods to your chest and a smirk is quick to steal your lips. You clutch her hand tighter, but when you tilt the bill up again, she’s not looking at you anymore.

It's the moment you feel most lost in her.

You have this odd sense of dread when a small part the field is cleared in front of the platform  and the staff hands out blindfolds to the remaining contestants. Clarke offers to tie it for you, slightly smug, and you decline the offer only because having her hands in your hair sounds like the beginning of a disaster. You wait until the last possible minute though, when they’re leading Clarke away and suddenly you find you’d rather be staring at the inside of a black cloth than watching her walk away from you.

It’s a bit dramatic to think, yes, but it feels like the truth.

You don’t quite know what’s going on but you let yourself be led, pliant as someone places you in an indeterminable spot on the field. The wait isn’t long though and you’re thankful. It's hardly a minute later when the microphone crackles and the man’s familiar voice picks up over the speakers.

“This is it, ladies and gentlemen. The ultimate test. The couples must find their way back together. Without sight, without sound. Only touch.” the crowd ohhhs and wolf whistles and you roll your eyes behind the blindfold. “You have five minutes. Good luck.”

The first hand you hold is large, calloused, and the touch lasts no longer than five seconds before the both of you let go and move on. The second is smaller, slender, and it makes you pause. Your mouth opens slightly, but you remember yourself, closing it before anything has a chance to make it out. They hold you too tight and it takes them a moment to realize you’re not holding them back.

The third… The tips of their fingers finds your arm--the point of your elbow, fingers cold and hesitant. they trail down the inside of your forearm and it feels like forever, but when she folds her hand into yours, her thumb brushing softly over your knuckles, you accept it gently.

Something in you flutters, right there in your chest. High and light and it’s a bit like losing the ability to breathe. Like having the wind knocked from your chest, but carefully, and how it fills again, softly. So you step in closer and breathe in, pressing your lips softly to her temple.

She squeezes your hand tighter and that’s the end of that.

(somewhere off in the stands you hear a few people cheer and it’s enough to quirk your lips against her skin)

You don’t know how long you stand there, but it's probably barely minutes, and when you get the okay, you hook a finger around the blindfold and tug it down. Clarke’s eyes are the first thing you see. Blue and a hint of sun. She raises your linked hands into the air, a triumphant gesture, and you can’t help but laugh when the crowd seems to agree.

The both of you, along with the two other couples who passed, are herded up onto the stage once things settle. Clarke tugs you, your linked hands hanging between the two of you, as she bounds up the steps with you in tow. The grin hasn’t left her face since the little show-off down on the field and it only grows under the attention. You’re the first up onto the stage and you move down to make room for the others.

The emcee starts with the couple closest to the steps. You recognize them to be the couple you saw at the beginning. The fire is still very much evident, but there’s a softness in the way the man has his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, her body tucked comfortably into his side, her arm slung low around his hips. He catches you watching, and the knowing smile and quirked brow he shoots back at you makes you feel just a tad self-conscious. But there’s not much to look at besides Clarke, and the time it takes to succumb to that notion you already feel like you’ve proven his point.

So you don’t deny it, idly tucking a wayward strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear. At least not to yourself.

“And who have we here?”

The suddenness of the words surprises you and you turn your attention to the emcee and the microphone he reaches towards Clarke. There’s not an ounce of hesitation on her face.

“Clarke,” she says, and you can tell she’s enjoying this far too much. “This is Lexa.”

“And how long have you two been together?”

Clarke pulls a little away to look at you, amusement stretched wide across her face, carried in the apple of her cheeks and the grin she tries to fight off and the words just kind of fall out your mouth. “It feels like forever.”

The emcee laughs, nudging you with his elbow. “Is that good or bad?”

“Definitely good,” you reply, still focused on Clarke and that almost awed look she’s giving you.

“Do you think you have what it takes to win?”

You acknowledge him finally. “Yes.” There’s no hesitation in you either.

“What do you think?” he boasts, turning to address the audience. “Who should take home the coveted title?”

A mess of noise surrounds you, rising up, and it’s hard to make out heads or tails of anything. But what you can hear are chants of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss,’ echoing from the stands and its metronome is a steady beat amongst the growing chaos.

Satisfied with the reaction, the emcee turns to you and the other couples, grinning. “Well, you heard the crowd. Who’s first?”

The couple at the opposite end doesn’t wait, the small woman taking hold of her boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and dragging him down. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, smiling against it and pushing back when the surprise wears off and the reaction from the stands is immediate.

There’s whistling and hoots from friends in the stands and a middle finger courtesy of the girl wrapped around her boyfriend, but from what you can discern from the energy, it’s all in good fun.

The second couple, a tall, shy young man and his equally tall girlfriend, share a soft kiss that ends far too quickly for the audience's liking, but the girl laughs, hands cupping the back of her boyfriends head and leaning in again to peck his flushed cheeks with a quick, thankful kiss.

It’s when the noise dies down again that you realize there’s no one left but you.

Before you can comprehend it, Clarke takes you by the hips with such bravado you momentarily lose your train of thought, eyebrows wiggling in an attempt at alleviating the sudden tenseness she must feel in you. There’s a lopsided little tilt to her lips, but she waits for you, the crowd silent and watchful, and if you weren’t sure before, you are now.

You probably love her and the craziness of that thought doesn’t scare you as much as it should.

You cup her cheeks in your hands, and you feel more than hear the soft gasp she takes. You’d swear you could feel it under the tips of your fingers as you lean in, all slow and tortuous, noses touching first. Her breath fans across your mouth, uneven and a little bit nervous. Or perhaps that’s you, because you’re sure it’s her who closes the last few centimeters like she can’t take the thought of waiting a second longer and the cheer that erupts from the crowd is lost somewhere in the mess of your mind.

Maybe, you think. Maybe she’s just as breathless as you.

[soopranatural]

Hands off (Part 1/3)

This was written for ABO Appreciation Day, hosted by @kittenofdoomage 

Summary: The reader is the boy’s new hunting partner and omega. A witch with a thirst for vengeance curses her and the boys are not able to be near her without causing her pain.

Pairing: alpha!Dean x omega!reader x alpha!Sam

Warnings: touch deprivation, implied smut, canon typical violence, nightmares, angstttt (If everything goes according to my evil plan)

Words: 1444

Marsterlist

Mobile Masterlist

(My first ever fic so pls go easy on me)

Your name: submit What is this?

You groaned softly and gingerly detangled yourself from the two giant men. As slowly and as quietly as you could you shimmied from between them and crawled like a particularly clumsy spider, right over Dean to get off the bed.

You were about to turn away when you caught Sam’s amused gaze, “shut up, I’ll be right back” you huffed, before running to the bathroom.

When you came back both of them were awake, Sam reading a book that he had left on the bedside table and Dean looking at something on his phone. But both of them looked up when you entered the room.

“Mornin’ sweetheart” Dean rumbled in his deep morning voice “sleep well?” You nodded and crawled back on the bed, right into his outstretched arms. Sam came closer and gingerly stoked one of the fresh bite marks on your neck, his feather light touch making you shiver and sigh.

Last night had been amazing. Both of them had taken such good care of you, they were careful not to hurt you and had made sure that you were comfortable with everything they did.

Most people would probably think it weird, two alphas living in the same space was rare enough, with you in the equation, well, most wouldn’t believe it possible for them to deal with the possessive nature of the other enough to share an omega. But the Winchesters weren’t most, you had never met any alphas that were as kind as they were, and somehow you had been lucky enough to score them both. Not before a lot of sexual tension and emotional turmoil, mostly on Dean’s part. An injury in your last hunt had finally snapped things into place though.

Sam pressing a kiss to the back of your neck jolted you out of the comfortable fuzziness you had drifted into. Something sharp pulled at your stomach and you suppressed a moan at the feeling of one of your mates touching the new bond. You felt him smile and Dean’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh when his hand drifted to your neck and your eyes fluttered shut. “No fair” you whined softly, electricity thrumming through your veins “you guys are ganging up on me”

Sam nibbled on the mark and this time you couldn’t hold in a gasp. “I’ll go make breakfast” he said suddenly, and you shot him a disbelieving glance. “You should rest, omega, it was a tiring night for you” he made sure to wink at you before turning away and leaving, his boxer briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the shape of his perfect ass.

“Perv” Dean smirked at you when he caught you ogling. “Not my fault he’s a fucking tease” you grumbled as he laughed and took you to the kitchen.

“We need to go on a supply run soon” Sam said as soon as you had finished eating your french toast. Dean took your plate and kissed the top of your head on his way to the sink “yeah, right after this salt ‘n’ burn, we’ll drop by the store on our way back”

“I can go” you interrupted “you’ll be a day at most, right? And I could do that while you’re gone, considering I can’t hunt until my wrist is healed” the boys looked at each other and shrugged. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart” you scrunched your nose up when Dean ruffled your hair. “Kay, call us if anything happens, alright Y/N?”

“Sure thing, Sammie-o, but I’ll be fine” you hugged them both goodbye and listened to the Impala’s rumble fade away until you couldn’t hear it anymore.

You were searching the aisle, looking for the specific brand of pasta that you all liked when a strange woman caught your eye. She was standing a few feet away from you, and she was wearing glasses that reflected the light of the store, so you couldn’t really tell, but it felt like she was staring at you. She was dressed in all black, and strange tattoos peeked from above her collar, her hair was a startling shade of white, although she looked young. She was definitely not shopping for pasta, and yet there she stood, unwavering.

Your first instinct was to grab your gun, but that was a stupid idea. Your next thought was to call one of the brothers, but that was a stupid idea as well. You were just being paranoid.

Turns out you weren’t though, as soon as you walked into the parking lot (empty, of fucking course) the lady cornered you and shoved you to the ground, your groceries fell too and you thought fleetingly about the pie in one of the bags and how you hoped it wasn’t squished.

The thought vanished when you looked up and the mysterious lady was gone.

You were about to get up when a hand appeared at your throat and applied pressure, just enough so that it wouldn’t be mistaken for anything but a threat. “You scream, or move, and all this will be over a lot quicker and a lot bloodier than we all want, omega” she spat. Too late to pull out your knife, then. Your heart was pounding and the world seemed to quiet.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice surprisingly steady. “What do I want, she asks” the lady who was obviously a witch gave an airy and unamused laugh before tightening her grip on your throat. “You reek of omega, child, it took me only a moment to realize that you reek of Winchester as well. Imagine my surprise when I noticed not one, but two marks on your fragile little neck. It must be Christmas.” Her laugh sounded everything but sane.

“Those bastards took everything from me. They killed my sister, and now it is my turn to take something from them” you froze in terror, your heart pounding in your ears, and she noticed “oh, no no no. Shh, my darling girl, I am not going to kill you. I am going to do much worse. They will have you right in front of them, but they will never be able to have you completely, I will take you from them, again and again, and their suffering will be like my own.” She tightened her grip once more when you struggled and she muttered a spell under her breath while her nails dug into your skin.

You gasped and took in lungfuls of air when the pressure suddenly disappeared, along with the eerie quiet. You looked around quickly but the woman had disappeared as well.

You picked up your groceries and stuffed them into the trunk of your jeep, shutting the trunk with a sigh. Your neck hurt where she had nicked you, but otherwise you felt fine.

You sighed again and drove back to the bunker.

About half way there your head had suddenly begun to pound, you felt shaky and weak. Maybe you were getting sick, the weather was colder lately and this definitely felt like a fever.

Much worse than a fever then, after a few more minutes you had started to feel a little queasy, your head was spinning and you felt heavy and tired, you were still shaking and you decided to hurry in case you passed out.

You barely made it to the bunker, by now the pain had grown worse, you felt like you were about to die and your stomach was constantly roiling. You stumbled out of the jeep without bothering with the groceries and walked on shaky legs to the bunker.

You collapsed on the cold floor as soon as you were down the stairs and you gritted your teeth to suppress a scream at a sudden jolt of pain. You were sweating and panting and your world was spinning.

You pressed you forehead to the cold floor but it did nothing to stop the burning. You dug your phone out of your pocket with shaking hands and it slipped a couple of times in your unsteady grip.

“Sweetheart?” His voice sounded at the other end of the line and you wanted to cry from both pain and relief. “Dean…” You panted, and then promptly passed out.

Part 2

Please leave feedback it makes me happy and I’ll love you forever (please)

Tagging people who I think wouldn’t mind (if you want to be added or taken off the list you can shoot me an ask):

@lilyleely (be careful what you wish for I guess 🌸) @d-s-winchester @waywardlullabies  @notnaturalanahi  @escabell  @imagineteamfreewill @impala-dreamer @bringmesomepie56

[swanderful1]

A Cold Awakening: Ch 20/25

Summary: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Notes: Hello all! First, once again thank you to @shady-swan-jones for the lovely banner for my story!!!!! Still hype about it. Time for anotha chapter! Took me a while (again). This update in particular is brought to you by: your continued support as readers, an entire box of cheez its, and my 90s hits playlist on REPEAT.Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Read the whole thang on AO3 or FFnet 

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT

Rating: M

Word Count: ~9100

Emma’s limbs were like spaghetti noodles. Loose and limp from spending the night with Killian. One would assume that meant waking up the next morning she wouldn’t still have the urge to go another round but… that assumption was wrong. There was something very intimate to her about spending a morning laying naked in a bed with him. An indulgence she hadn’t allowed herself with nearly anyone else. In fact, if he were anyone else she would be scurrying to dress and leave before the other person woke. Not wanting to deal, at all, with the messiness of a morning after. But Killian wasn’t anyone else, he was him. And that was enough for her to stay. Especially after the events of the past few days. Killian’s ex-girlfriend having turned out to not be who she said she was, Emma was feeling particularly defensive of the man sleeping behind her. She had actively done almost all she could to protect him and his heart that he had so trustingly given to Emma, but there were was only so much she could do.

There was a faint trace of light coming through the drapes over the windows, so it was some version of morning. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand it read 5:00 am. Too early. But her body was warm, thanks to the man sleeping behind her with his arm draped comfortably over her waist. Killian’s even breathing indicating he was still fast asleep. Another part of him, however, was wide awake. Digging into her bare backside she felt his hardened member up for the day.

She had a few different routes she could take with this. Either she could lay there and (attempt to) fall quietly back to sleep until it wasn’t so early. She could wake Killian so she wasn’t just lying there by herself, painfully aware of his arousal, gaining one of her own. But then she had another idea. Excitement running through her, Emma sank down beneath the covers, sliding out of Killian’s arms slowly so as not to wake him just yet. He stirred a bit once she was fully out of his grasp but otherwise remained asleep.

Now completely under the covers Emma took hold of Killian’s erect cock. The vein beneath her fingers, the soft feel of his flesh. Without much more delay Emma licked a stripe up the length of him. Slowly, deliberately, excitement and adrenaline fueling her as she wondered how long it would take before he woke. Swirling her tongue around the tip she felt him move a bit, still asleep, hopefully in the midst of a filthy dream about her. She often dreamt of him, though she never really told him that. Mostly because a lot of that dreaming had started occurring well before anything sexual actually happened between them in real life (i.e. the one where her subconscious had depicted him as Captain Hook, tying her up. Fucking her with his mouth and metal hand extension).

Taking a deep breath she brought herself back to the moment, if she kept allowing her mind to wander to those places she would come before Killian did. Slowly, her mouth covered his cock, taking almost the full length. Nearly bottoming out at the back of her throat, she began moving her head up and down, her tongue drawing circles along the surface as she moved. Her lips taking in the taste of his skin, wet mouth dragging. It’s after a few seconds of this that she feels Killian’s entire body stiffen. He was awake.

“Emma… what are you-, love...” he moaned. The sound of her name never sounding so good as it did coming from his mouth. Emma herself stiffened a bit, realizing how aroused she was as well. It only fueled her more, her mouth worked more aggressively now. Not quite so scared to wake him she wasn’t gentle, taking his cock as far into her mouth as it would go. Alternating between licking, sucking, rubbing. The more she did the shakier his legs became, giving into her touch she herself moaned and reached her hand down to take care of herself as she took care of Killian.

His cock began to pulse, impending release near, making Emma even more aggressive. Her teeth coming out to scrape the sides of his shaft, causing his legs to convulse and his hand to tightly grip her hair. Her other hand works the dripping wet folds at her center. The affect she has on him feeding her own desires. She’s close, so is he. And within a few more movements of her tongue and mouth he’s coming. Hot, wet, salty release moving down her throat as she sucks him dry of his seed. Not long after she crests and has a euphoric orgasm, all the while keeping her mouth attached to him until he’s finished.

When Emma emerged from underneath the covers she looked at Killian. His face a mixture of bewilderment, satisfaction, and something she’d rarely seen in a sexual partner before. Love. She gives him a smirk as she wipes his seed from the corners of her mouth with the back of her arm. And then one by one licked her fingers clean of her own release. The mix of the two in her mouth causing an interesting taste. One that she wants to share with him. His eyes never stray from her, even letting out a groan as he watches. Leaning down over top of Killian, straddling her bare body over top of his, she meets his mouth. Her tongue moving with his so he can taste as well. What they tasted like together.

“Good morning,” she whispered against his mouth as he growled in response.

“Now what in the world did I do to deserve that?” he mumbled, a dumb smile on his face when she pulled her head away from his just a few inches. His dark hair pushed from his head standing on all ends. There was an almost youthful glow to him in the moment and Emma couldn’t help but smile.

“Do I really need a reason to wake you up that way?”

“Of course not, love.” His eyes were still heavy, presumably both from just waking up and what he woke up to. “You won’t hear a complaint from me.”

“I would hope not.”

“Unless of course you’ve deemed that a ‘one time thing’?” His eyebrow went up expectantly. Though it certainly wasn’t a one time thing.

She answered him by kissing him again. Simply savoring in the morning with him where she could do whatever she wanted to him. His hands reached up to cradle the sides of her face and she ached at the touch.

“What do you like to eat, Emma?” he asked between kisses. It seemed highly off topic given the activities of a few minutes ago. She didn’t say anything for a while, her hands moving around the hair on his chest, playing with it as she continued to kiss him.

“Besides grilled cheese and my cock?” He was so ridiculous but for whatever reason Emma completely enjoyed his flirty and sometimes obscene remarks. He was clever, she loved that about him.

“What if that’s all I like?” she whispered against his ear, nibbling on the lobe, getting whiff of his hair. Jesus he always smelled amazing. Particularly this morning when he smelled like the lavender bath oils they had used the night before...

“Because. I meant it when I said I’d like to take you on a proper date. And I want it to be something you enjoy.”

She was stunned, pulling her face away from his to look into his blue, blue eyes. Sincerity. That was all she saw now. Well, and how handsome he was but that was a pretty consistent thing. The mention of a date, a real live adult date was intimidating. She hadn’t been on one she actually enjoyed in so long. But there was a large part of the idea that excited her. Getting to go out in public with him, sitting across a table from him, tasting each other’s entrees, sipping overpriced glasses of wine. She could picture it, and in her mind could hardly suppress the grin that came from the image. Killian seemed to release a breath, as if he still wasn’t sure if she would run or not at the mention of moving forward together.

“I’m not picky,” she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. Savoring in the warmth of his face beneath her palm.

“Good.” He smiled back. Pulling her hand from his face and beginning to caress it with his lips. “How about Thursday night then?”

She relished in the touch of his lips, her stomach filled with butterflies she almost forgot to answer him.

“Thursday for what?” she groaned, obviously distracted.

“For dinner…” he continued kissing her, licking, nipping at her skin. “And dessert.”

“How could I say no to that?”

“Please don’t,” he whispered, his accent thick between tongue movements.

“Let me think about it…” she teased. And when he jokingly bit a part of her neck she let out a giggle. “Okay, okay, Thursday. A real date.”

He stopped his nibbling to look into her eyes. Quite possibly to see if she was still toying with him. She wasn’t. It was only Monday morning, and Thursday night was so far from now. Any host of things could happen between now and then but she didn’t care about any of that.

“After all, you are quite persuasive…” she said, biting her lip. Back to teasing. He softened, taking her chin in his hand and pulling her face toward his.

“And devilishly handsome,” he said before diving in again to plant bites and kisses all over her body.

They went on like that for a while. Rolling over top of each other, switching dominant positions. Taking their time playing with one another. It wasn’t long before Emma felt her core ache for him, more urgently than it kind of always was, and she clenched her thighs together to keep from getting too carried away. But when once again she found herself on top of him she kissed down the soft skin of his neck, she noticed he had stopped nipping at her and remained ultimately still. Though his hands still rested on her hips.

“Killian… what’s…?” she began to ask pulling away from his neck, following his gaze to where it rested. The mirror. The floor length one across from the bed. Which from this angle gave a perfect view of her on top of him from behind. Her legs straddled across him, her ass bare, hair hanging down her back. He was watching her.

“There isn’t an inch of you that I don’t find alluring, Emma,” he whispered. Still not taking his eyes off of hers in the reflection of the mirror. She blushed, knowing he was telling the truth. And that she felt exactly the same way about him. He was so verbal during sex, or even just building up to sex. It was all the more stimulating to her.

“Why don’t we try something new…” she whispered, knowing he had his eye on that mirror. And fucking to her own reflection was something she had all but avoided her entire life. The idea of watching herself in the throes of passion not necessarily a sight she was comfortable with. But with Killian… she was open to it. And if she were able to focus on him instead of herself, maybe it wouldn’t be so odd.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, turning her head away from the mirror and back to face his.

“I was thinking… that I could watch you fuck me…” Emma licked her way down his chest tasting the salt and lavender on his skin. It was enticing all on its own. His chest. “In the mirror.”

He hesitated, his breath catching in the back of his throat as Emma caught one of his nipples between her teeth and tugged. “Emma… love, are you certain that’s how you want it?”

She sat up again, trying to ignore the shake in his body as she released her mouth’s clutches on him. Emma fluttered her long lashes, cheeks and skin flushed with arousal, hair messy from both the night before and this morning, her bare center wet with desire and resting on his erect cock. She rolled her hips over him, causing his eyes to close as he winced. Emma’s eyebrow went up.. Knowing he would probably love nothing more than to fuck her as they both watched in the mirror’s reflection, knowing she loved that idea as well.

“Do I look like I want anything else?” a dirty grin on her face lighting a fire inside Killian that she could physically see come to flames behind his eyes. Before she knew it he had flipped her off of his lap, now she was on all fours, staring at herself in the mirror. He rose to his knees behind her so she could see him as well. A predatory look on his face like he could pounce at any moment, Emma felt her arousal grow the longer she met his eyes in the mirror.

“I’m going to take you from behind…” he said in a smooth and even voice. As if he wasn’t as affected as she was. Meanwhile she felt his already hardened cock pressed firmly against her, teasing her entrance.

“What exactly are you waiting for?” she asked in an almost breathy tone, trying to keep calm but realizing she became more and more turned on with each passing moment.

Without saying anything else he swatted her ass with his palm. Waves of both pleasure and pain coursing through her. It wasn’t exactly great incentive to behave if that was the punishment. A smirk was on his face as his hand moved from her ass to her slick, wet folds that were now even more so.

“Eager for me, as always, my darling.” In slipped one finger followed quickly by another, she ground her back into his front needing more. Needing absolutely all of him to fill her. “I can hardly call myself a gentleman if I keep a woman waiting.”

Emma let out a chuckle. Thinking of Killian right now as anywhere near a gentleman was almost comical. He had his moments of chivalry, but any of those were often canceled out by the brutal and passionate sexual encounters he and Emma engaged in.

She was so lost in the feel of his fingers hooking inside of her, hitting the spot that would eventually be her undoing, that she didn’t realize her eyes had closed. In fact, they remained that way until Killian removed his fingers when she was just about to climax and her whole body shook with disappointment. Until the rough feel of his beard on her shoulder brought her back and she opened her eyes again to face the reflection in the mirror.

“Remember, love, eyes open. I want you to watch,” he whispered before moving her hair to one side and taking a bite out of the back of her shoulder, rising up to his knees again. “God you’re so gorgeous like this.” He mumbled before lining himself up with her center.

“Ohhh…” she moaned as he slid into her, he did it slowly. Tortuously, not like the night before when they had been so desperate for the friction. She looked up at his face, very serious but also there was a level of caution there. He had never taken her from behind this way, and without another word she gave him a look to indicate she was okay to continue. That she had adjusted to his size and he could keep going. She wouldn’t break. At that, his grip on her hips tightened and he eased into her, taking his time before getting into a smooth rhythm. Emma moving her body along with his in fluid motions, causing her whole body to pulse.

“So tight like this, Emma,” he urged, quickening the pace ever so slightly the more his cock dragged against her inner walls. Emma’s back arched to keep him inside of her just a millisecond longer.

“Killian…. so good. Please…” The closer she came to her peak the more hooded her eyes became and the more frequent she felt her lids falling. Each time though she remembered to reopen them, to look at Killian. To experience the excitement of watching as he fucked her from behind.

“That’s it, darling. Beg,” he cooed in her ear followed by a slew of filthy promises that fell from his lips as Killian continued to grind in and out of her. With each thrust she came closer to her release, feeling herself become full with him. It was unlike anything else. To experience the throbbing heat resulting from their connection. It could only be compared to magic, the way they knew how to please each other so expertly and so intimately. Almost like they had been doing it for years as opposed to months. In another life perhaps they had been lovers in the same way, drawing the most exquisite of pleasures out of one another.

Emma felt her limbs grow weak with exertion the closer she was to her climax. Killian must have sensed this because at the last moment he pulled her up to him and supported most of her weight. Barely keeping her eyes open, she watched as Killian held her to him, not ever losing his place inside of her, and thrusting in and out as her walls clenched around him. She could see his handsome face in the mirror, looking dangerously close to his peak as well. His eyes hooded dark with desire for her. Her confidence surged and she pushed back against him, giving them both more leverage. Their bodies coated with sweat, his breath in her ear, his name on her lips. Their breath so ragged and abrupt their brutal pace followed along with the tempo of it.

“Emma….” he moaned. “Fall, love. I’ve got you.”

His rough hands beneath hers tightened around her hips, they fell together. Physically and metaphorically. Emma’s heart raced as she pushed stray hair off of her face.

In the wake of their passion, Emma could hardly contain her now shaking body. It was still so early, the sun had not even fully risen yet. But she was already thoroughly fucked. Killian’s warm body behind her felt limp as well and before Emma knew what was happening they had both collapsed to the bed. Sweat covered bodies and limbs tangled together, the two laid on the soft down comforter.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you, love,” Killian whispered as he peppered kisses down her body. Emma’s core tensed knowing if he kept up with this they would end up going at it with minimal break time. Again.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, turning in his arms so she faced him now and his mouth ceased the kisses just to steal a glance at her. His hand moved from her waist to her hair, wrapping strands of long, blonde curls around his fingers. Weaving them in and out, all the while looking at her like she had hung the moon.

“It’s hard to fathom that when I first came back to town I found you to be an astoundingly irritating lass.” He rolled onto his back, folding his left arm underneath his head and leaving his right arm in Emma’s hair.

“I know,” she said, Emma had felt similarly after first being reunited with him. The dark, infuriating, uncooperative man he was. The day they fought right in front of everyone’s view in the conference room. Her blood had boiled, and in an entirely different way than it did when they spoke now. “The feeling was mutual. I couldn’t stand you.”

“I can’t imagine why.” His eyebrow went up. He knew why.

“In fairness the first actual encounter I had with you was when you drunkenly hit on me in a bar… I wouldn’t exactly consider that behavior to be boyfriend material.” The second she said the word she realized it had never come out before in reference to him.

He smirked, obviously noticing the implication as well, “I see. And when exactly did that change for you?”

The question caught her off guard. The resentment they had felt for each other at the beginning of the investigation felt so, so long ago. And to be honest now, as she was naked on his bed wrapped in his arms, it was hard to imagine a time when she didn’t feel the way she felt now. Which was enamored with affection for the complicated soul, whose hands felt like heaven running through her hair.

“The day you took me to your father’s old car that he wrecked.” She was certain it was that time. Killian’s vulnerability coming out, his willingness to help her instead of halt her in the search. “How about you?”

He paused for a long while, the silent bedroom engulfing them. Emma thought perhaps his day was the same as hers, that he had begun feeling differently about her when he decided to show her a part of his past that had never been brought to light. Finally, he said, “That day in the book shop.”

Emma remembered that day, but it hardly been anything overwhelmingly groundbreaking. At least not for her. They had agreed to a truce. Her mother had met Killian. The whole thing had seemed so… ordinary compared to the excitement and dramatics that had occurred in the months following that day.

“It was the first time I thought perhaps we could get along.” He rolled back over to face her again. “Without being in that police station and the investigation and returning to a town I hated growing up, in that bookshop we just felt like two people meeting under normal circumstances.”

His fingers moved from her hair to her face, brushing a soft touch across the flesh of her cheek. His thumb rested just below her bottom lip and he smiled ever so slightly when she eased into his touch.

“You have to remember, darling, I’m used to being the boss. My career, I call all of the shots. I oversee hundreds of people. Having someone in charge of me, and demanding things of me, especially about such a deeply personal thing… I just didn’t take to it well.”

They were two alphas, both used to being in some sort of control of everything. Of course they buttheads at the beginning. Until they both learned how to be around someone else as similar.

“I know.” Emma reached out and brushed the stubble on his face. The rub of the hair massaging her fingertips and palm. “I’m not used to anyone challenging me. Especially not at work.”

“We’re awfully stubborn.”

“Yeah. To a fault even.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, love. I’ve grown to find it quite attractive in you.”

“Really?” Emma was surprised. Most men found it to be so unappealing. Hence why she ultimately kept them out of her personal life. She wasn’t willing to soften that about herself. Well… about certain things. For all intents and purposes right now Killian Jones could get her to do just about anything.

“Really.” He smiled, a bit bashful now. Emma felt his cheeks warm underneath her lingering touch. “At a point I became so frustrated because I wanted you so badly but couldn’t have you.”

Meanwhile she had felt the same. He could have had her at any point.

“I got to know you, Emma. I mean really know you, which doesn’t strike me as a luxury you grant many people.” He smirked, as if remembering some encounter in his head that they had shared. “The glimpses you showed me of who you are… I selfishly wanted more.”

“I wasn’t all that willing to share you either, Killian. You had to have known there was something…” she laughed. “That time at Target when that woman tried to pay for your groceries… I was not having it.”

She had moved that item divider too quickly for it to pass as nonchalant.

“Aye, love. I might have picked up on that…” He winked. “Then there was that kiss…. The time you showed up here and I felt like perhaps we would both be able to accept what was happening between us.”

Emma knew what happened next, the part of this story where she ran from him.

“That day you were going on a date… I saw you at the police station and I could hardly keep it together. The idea of another man taking you out and enjoying your company. It drove me mad.”

“That was when you decided to show up at my office that night.” She almost knew exactly what he had been thinking when he surprised her that night. Toying with her, teasing her, bringing her to the absolute crest of pleasure before leaving her alone on that desk. She felt her body warm just thinking of it.

“Aye, love. I wasn’t sure you would go along with it… being as bold a move as it was. But when you did I… there was no going back for me.”

“Had you planned that for a while?”

“No. I mean I had thought of you. A lot. You’re an impossibly appealing woman, Emma. Even when you’re yelling at me. But at the thought of another man entering your life when I wanted to be there instead, well, I became a bit reckless.”

“A bit?”

“No one else has ever had this effect on me. It was something so out of character I could hardly believe myself that I went through with it… with any of this with you.” His face still looked overwhelmed, like he couldn’t fathom that they were even lying here together. Naked. On his bed.

“I know the feeling, Killian. I’ve never known anyone like you.” She could hardly believe they were in this position as well. However, it was real. She could feel his warm body pressed to hers. His fingers, moving through her long hair. His breath was so near to her face. The evidence of their most recent act of debauchery drying on the insides of her thighs.

“Quite the pair, aren’t we?”

She stilled a bit, at the mention of them being a pair. Were they a pair? Were they exclusive? Where was this going? Did it matter? Should she have him make a Powerpoint presentation? Her mind asked a thousand questions. And apparently it was all over her face because with the utmost of care Killian took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.

“Emma you have to know, unless you aren’t already aware and I haven’t been clear enough, it’s only you that I’ve been with for a while.” His thumb stroked just beneath her lip. “Exclusively you, darling.”

She was a little surprised still that he read her so well. But really was it actually that surprising at all? “I haven’t been with anyone but you since… well since you came back to Storybrooke.”

Emma was a little embarrassed to admit it, seeing as how for the first few weeks he was here the two weren’t even on great speaking terms. But it was still nice to know he hadn’t been with anyone either. As fucking gorgeous as Killian was, it had been only her. “I was with Henry’s father for a long time, and then no one else really stood out to me after that. Until you. And anyone in between… it was simply physical.”

Killian smiled before leaning over to press a soft kiss to Emma’s lips. If for no other reason than the simple fact that they could.

“With you though, Killian it’s more than physical. It’s… chemical....”she said as he tugged Emma’s body even closer to his as the kiss grew deeper and his tongue parted the gap in her lips. The tingle reaffirming what she already knew.

“How much longer do I have with you?” Killian mumbled against her mouth. It was a good question, and for a second Emma wasn’t sure whether he was talking about this morning or forever. She decided he was most likely referring to the former but the latter was a discussion that would have to come at some point.

“Relax, it’s only 6 am.” Emma’s lips moved down to his neck, one of her favorite places on his body to kiss. Feeling the pulsing vein beneath her mouth quicken at her touch.

“It’s hard to relax, love, when you’re using your mouth like that.” His body was tense as she moved around him. Memorizing every mark on his skin, the feel of his arms on her waist, the way his lip twitched slightly before he smiled.

Emma crawled on top of him, it was beginning to be a hobby of hers, ready to get lost with him again when her phone rang.

“Christ…” Killian said as his hands stopped their movements along Emma’s bare body. Her head fell into his chest. Knowing she had to get up and answer.

“I’ve got to get that,” she muttered, extremely unhappy to have to tear herself away from the task at hand (well… mouth).

“I wagered.” Killian stared straight up at the ceiling. Eyes closed, attempting to cool himself off.

When Emma crossed the room and reached her phone the caller ID said it was her father. Her heart sank a little, knowing he probably wouldn’t call this early on a Monday morning if it wasn’t something work related.

“Hello?” she said, swiping to answer. A knot in her stomach.

“Em, I need you to come down to the station as soon as you can… it’s urgent.” Her dad sounded highly on edge. Knowing he wasn’t an alarmist she became more concerned. What could it possibly be that warranted this kind of reaction from David Nolan. “It’s Gold, Emma. He escaped his holding cell last night.”

“What? How?” Emma was a bit floored, hearing horror stories of escaped prisoners on the news before but never having actually experienced it. This man was dangerous, and he had slipped through their clutches.

“Just come down to the station. I’m about to bring everyone in for a briefing before we get to work on catching him. He couldn’t have gotten far, all of the town’s borders have been secured.”

“But time is of the essence.” Emma nibbled on her lip, anxious to get Gold back where he was best (behind fucking bars). “I’ll be down there as soon as I can. I’ve got to call mom and have her pick up Henry though.”

“Alright. See you soon.” David quickly hung up the phone, sounding just about as nervous as Emma was. Then she looked across the room to where Killian had stood and began dressing himself to take his dog out. He already knew she had to leave. Time was something that was just rarely on their side.

“I have to go,” Emma said, all urgency leaving her body when she realized she had to interrupt their morning. It was an odd feeling, one that was completely unfamiliar to her. A longing to just stay put and to savor in the excitement of wasting time with someone. “Duty calls.”

“Everything alright, love?” Killian looked concerned, approaching her as if she were made of crystal.

“Yeah, fine. Just something came up at work. I need to go in early.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Killian’s eyes sparkled with concern. She was so used to just telling him everything, that leaving him in the dark felt almost… wrong. Emma thought of all they had overcome thus far in such early stages of their relationship and decided it would be okay to tell him. The town would have to be notified anyway that there was a wanted criminal running around.

“Just, lay low for today. Gold is… well he’s gone. Apparently escaped last night. I don’t know much more. It will get out eventually but just keep quiet for now and I’ll tell you more as I can.” She hoped he would understand, wouldn’t judge her harshly for the lack of elaboration.

“Alright, Emma,” he said gently, tucking her hair behind her ear. She could tell he wanted to say more. Probably overwhelmingly concerned that she was now leaving his company to go on a man hunt for the person responsible for his parents’ death. Her whole being ached and she wished she could stay. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Sometimes I find myself so happy with you that I forget the circumstances we’re under.”

“I know what you mean.” And she did, it was so easy to forget when they were in their love bubble. “I’ll do everything I can to help you and Liam have a bit of peace with this. If that’s even possible to do..”

“I thought about hiring a private investigator… so many times in those twenty years. But the way everything was so botched the first time around with the case I was too scared. But then the prospect of answers became scarier than not knowing so I used to think I would never have closure with it. But you’ve done so much, Emma.”

“I didn’t do it alone, you know.” She remembered all of the times he had offered his help, and he would do it again right now she was sure of it. But the fact was, Gold was out there (so was his ex-wife) and the less Killian was directly involved the better. She smiled up at him, doing her best to silently reassure him that she would be okay. But he still looked wary.

“It’s not something I’m used to…” he said after a few quiet seconds. His arms were loosely wrapped around her naked body as they stood there. Too stubborn to let go of each other.

“What?”

“Normally I’m the one that has to leave abruptly in the morning for work.” He chuckled.

“Does it make you feel cheap?” she joked.

“Aye, a bit.” He smiled, and she wished it was a permanent fixture on his face. Not that the cranky, brooding smolder he had trademarked wasn’t attractive. It was just nice when he laughed.

“Well, hopefully soon this won’t have to happen anymore.”

Emma pulled out of his grasp and began to dress herself. She knew if she continued to stand within their orbit she would get too distracted, and right now she needed to focus. Gold was gone, Milah was Grace, and they still didn’t nail down the person who had been sending the clues. Somehow those two had to be connected, she knew it was too crazy to be a coincidence that the same woman who had been married to Gold ended up dating Killian for several YEARS. However, Emma lost her focus after she had put her underwear, jeans, bra, and shoes back on to realize that the tank top she had worn over to Killian’s last night was ripped to shreds from their passionate encounter.

“Um… Killian…” She held up the material, torn and unwearable. Doing her best to look pissed off but actually a bit flushed thinking of how it had come to be ripped. “I’m going to need to borrow a shirt.”

He smirked, and walked over to his closet which was lined with suits and dress shirts and business attire. She had never met a man who had more clothes than Killian.

“I appreciate the look of disgust, darling, but I don’t recall you being this displeased when that scrap of fabric was being torn from your body last night.” He didn’t even look back at her as he carded through the rows of dress shirts. Eventually he selected a plain, light blue shirt that matched his eyes and probably looked gorgeous on him. Emma held it up to her, it was a tad bit long but it might fit her enough.

“It’ll have to do I suppose,” she said as she took it from the hanger and began to slip it on. “Since a wild animal decided to destroy my shirt.” She locked eyes with him as she buttoned the front.

Killian stepped close to her, taking over the task and slowly slipping each button into it’s slot without losing her gaze. When he finished, he straightened the collar, and bent down to place a kiss on her lips, then her cheek, then her neck before reaching her ear to whisper, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Emma shivered, at the mere mention of him taking her again in such a heated way. Why couldn’t she just stay kept in his bed all day? Engaging in all kinds of… activities. No responsibilities beyond making each other come. But her life wasn’t that simple, and neither was his. So while she wished she could allow him to make good on his promise to rip her clothes off again, she knew she had a job to do.

“I have to go,” she moaned, pulling her neck away from his lips so she could just focus on the pools of his eyes. Which probably was not any less distracting.

“Be safe. If anything happens to you, I don’t know that I… you’re so good at your job and you’re perfectly fit to take care of yourself but just don’t forget about the people on the other side who love you.”

“Oh? And who would that be?”

“Your son… your parents…”

“You,” she whispered before planting an all too quick kiss on his lips.The mood turning serious from playful, yet again.

“Ah yes, I fall into that category of people as well, my love,” he whispered back, “Just… come back to me, Emma. In one piece.”

“Of course,” she said as his lips were on hers one last time, desperate. But quick. And he pulled away reluctantly. To let her go.

When Emma arrived at the station, it had only been about half an hour since her father had called to alert her of Gold’s escape but it had felt like an eternity. Leaving Killian’s hotel felt more painful than it should have, given the freshness of their romance but everything with them seemed to break all expectation of what a normal relationship was.

She had called Mary Margaret from the car, telling her mother to pick up Henry from his friend’s house when he awoke. After all, it was barely seven in the morning on summer vacation. He wouldn’t be awake for quite some time. And Emma didn’t know when she would be available to leave her job. Neal was all but exempt from the investigation at this point but it would hardly be wise to put Henry in the care of his father when Gold was on the loose. Extra security from Boston was currently on the way to Storybrooke to guard Neal’s apartment just in case his father tried anything stupid. If Emma had to guess though, now that Gold had gotten out of police custody he would certainly take every opportunity to leave town.

The office was abuzz with activity. All hands were on deck. The main room smelling like a mixture of coffee and stress, a scent Emma was entirely too familiar with at this point in her life.

“Em, you’re here, great.” David greeted her when she walked in, handing her a warm to-go cup of coffee. If he noticed the shirt on her back was a man’s he said absolutely nothing about it. Thank the Lord. “We’re meeting in a few minutes to lay out the game plan. First search team has already been dispatched.”

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” she was back in cop mode. It happened almost instantly when she knew an important task at her job needed to be completed.

“Just get ready to meet with the team. Grab all of your resources. Pull some ideas together to brainstorm. I’ve got a few, Graham and the Boston team do as well. We need all the points of view we have.”

“Got it,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and making her way to her desk. David was off in a flash, presumably to alert everyone to be in the conference room as soon as possible. Emma was gathering some files she had stuffed in her desk, trying to determine the best plan of action but halted when she felt she was being watched.

Looking up from her mess of a desk she realized she was right. Ruby stood a few feet from her, an interesting smile on her best friend’s face.

“What?” Emma asked, curious to see where this was going.

“You know, women’s shirts have the buttons on the left side…” Ruby smirked.

Emma looked down at Killian’s shirt she was wearing. She had tucked it into her jeans so that it wouldn’t look like the shirt was as big on her as The buttons, indeed, on the right side. The sleeves were also cuffed revealing Killian’s embroidered initials on the interior of the fabric. He was such a diva. Emma rolled her eyes, half because of her curious friend and half because she would have to tease Killian about his labeled dress shirt cuffs later. Or whenever she saw him next…

“How is he taking all of this? First his parents then his ex turns out to be a liar. The poor guy,” Ruby asked. Not even bothering to dive further into the fact that Emma was sleeping with Killian but also sleeping AT Killian’s.

“He’s… okay. A bit worried that Gold’s out again, but that’s to be expected.” Emma’s heart tugged. The look of worry on his face she saw as she left his penthouse. The amount of lies and deception he had been fed his whole life she could hardly believe he was this trusting of her but he was. All the more reason she didn’t want to keep things from him. She must have been making a face at the thought of her morning because whatever it was Ruby picked up on her softened demeanor.

“Who would have guessed, Killian Jones would be the first guy to get you to make an actual commitment,” Ruby said. As annoyed as Emma was that this was the topic of conversation, it was hard to be annoyed with Ruby. Someone who had been by her side for as long as she could remember.

“Literally you, Ruby!” Emma remembered even before she herself knew she was interested in Killian her best friend had called her out on it. “You guessed it the whole time!”

“I did, didn’t I?” A look of pride came across Ruby’s face. They had caught up briefly on Saturday night. Watching movies and eating junk food with Henry. Ruby was, for the first time in a long time, in a very healthy and stable relationship. And the proof was all over the brunette’s face as she just seemed lighter. Happier. To finally have found someone who brought out the best in her as opposed to the worst.

“Ruby, Emma, conference room.” They were interrupted by the sound of Graham’s voice. Everyone was making their way into the conference room for the meeting.

The meeting was brief but effective. Gold was on the loose and they needed to catch him, plain and simple. Apparently during the changing of security last night was when he escaped from his holding cell. Via the use of a bent paper clip that had been hidden (somewhere on his person?). It was a grave mistake on the part of all of the officers involved. Ever since the discovery of Gold as the killer, the team had definitely softened. The idea that he was already caught so their jobs were mostly done allowing him to slip through the cracks. Emma herself was guilty of losing involvement. But right now she had to hunt for Gold. By the time she left the office the news of Gold’s escape had broken, she had to fight past all of the local news and reporters to get to her car.

Emma was beginning to see herself with Killian more and more with each passing day. And as exciting yet terrifying as that was she knew they would never truly be able to continue, he would never truly be able to heal, if his past wasn’t first taken care of. If there was no closure on the demons that had plagued he and his family for so long, Killian and Liam would never know justice to be reached for their parents. Then there was Neal, who had lost so much as well. First his mother when he was just a boy and now his father had turned out to have done such terrible things. Neal needed closure on the case as well. And if Emma was able to find Milah, and her connection to this saga, then maybe Neal could have peace answers to why his mother left him. Because Emma had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to Milah leaving than she knew. Then there was Henry who had, all his life, known nothing but kindness and harmony amongst all of the branches of his family who was now realizing that his grandfather was in no way a good man.

After the meeting the whole team was put to action. The perimeter of the town completely secured, as well as the shipping ports that led to the town. A census of all residents and ships was taken by local government. Helicopters flew above the normally quiet town in an effort to see if Gold had taken to hiding in the woods. Yellow caution tape decorated the normally all-green summer landscape. Time was so important, especially the first twelve hours when they had daylight on their side. Midday Emma had called Henry to check in, telling him she was alright and to stay with Mary Margaret until they caught Gold. By now it was out that he had gone missing, and a panic had come over the town. Worried for everyone’s safety Emma and her team did their absolute best to utilize their time.

But by nightfall no progress had been made despite the relentless search. Gold was as good as gone. Emma’s feet tired she and a few others headed back to the station to regroup and make an alternate plan for nightfall.

“I think we need to send people to Belle’s. Extra security in case Gold tries anything there,” Emma spoke up at the meeting. She had ulterior motives for the suggestion but that wasn’t important to disclose to everyone just yet.

David agreed. Looking at Emma expectantly for further suggestion.

“I can go,” she offered. “I’ll take Ruby. Give us one squad car.”

Ruby looked at Emma like she was crazy. But Emma would explain once they were underway.

“Em, we can send more than just one. There’s a few over there undercover right now for surveillance.” Graham looked skeptical, but didn’t push too hard.

“Listen, we don’t want an overwhelming police presence there. It isn’t necessary, send them home for rest. But we do need to have a few officers present at Gold’s old home to make sure Belle isn’t behind the liberation of her husband. And I think I’m pretty good at deciphering whether or not someone’s lying to me.”

After a lot more convincing, Emma and Ruby were in the squad car on their way over to Belle’s house. It had been under pseudo-house arrest (undercover squad cars a few hundred feet away) for some time now but nothing had come up that indicated Belle in anyway knew what her husband had been up to nearly 15 years before they even met. But that didn’t stop Emma from having her suspicions. Recalling the day they had found the murder weapon and arrested Gold. The discovery of the dagger coming almost entirely from Belle’s subtle suggestion. Ruby had been the only other person in the room with Emma and Belle that day. Therefore Emma thought her best to drag along.

On the way over Emma called Killian, part wanting to tell him Gold was still missing, part wanting to just hear his voice. But she would never admit that, even when Ruby gave her a knowing look from the passenger seat. Despite trying to keep the conversation as low key as possible, Emma still became a little sad when she had to hang up. But the subtle, “Call when you can and be safe, my love.” He said before hanging up gave her butterflies, motivating her to keep going.

“Emma would you mind telling me what in the world has gotten into you?” Ruby asked shortly after Emma hung up the phone and refocused on driving the squad car toward Belle’s house.

“I think Belle knew what Gold did to the Jones’,” Emma said matter of factly.

“And you think it’s urgent to handle this now because…?”

“She’s the key to finding Gold. Just like she was the key to proving he did the murder in the first place.”

Ruby crinkled her brow trying to decipher what Emma was getting at.

“Belle’s a smart girl, you and I both know that. If she was the one sending the clues and if she knew what her husband had done then she most certainly had all of her research together before she did something this bold. I’m not saying she helped him escape…. I know she wants him locked up. So I think we can get her to talk.”

“Emma that’s crazy! You’re going on blind intuition.” Ruby yelled as they pulled up the driveway to Belle’s house. The wind stilling to provide quiet surroundings. The only sound now was the crunch of Emma’s feet on the walkway.

“Is it that crazy? Isn’t that what’s gotten us this far in the first place? My ‘blind’ intuition.”

“You know it is.”

“Yet here you are, doubting me.”

“I never said that,” Ruby reached out to knock on the heavy wooden door. Not sure why they were even doing the courtesy of knocking. They could very well just barge in. But Emma didn’t want Belle to think they were against her, Emma knew she could reason with her if she approached this just right…

“You also didn’t run away when I told you.”

“She’s not going to tell us anything, Emma. We’re cops!”

“Belle’s logical. I feel like if we reason enough with her, she’ll be smart about giving us an answer.”

As the front door opened Emma caught sight of Belle for the first time in a long time. The pretty and quiet research analyst who she had worked with nearly every day looked exhausted. Bags under her eyes. No makeup on. Dark hair piled on top of her head in a pony tail. She was beautiful, but sad. The same way Killian had been when she met him. Emma felt bad about ambushing her this way, about such a sensitive thing. But it was her job and to her core Emma believed Belle would provide far more for them in finding Gold than sitting in a hidden squad car in the woods all night would.

“Belle…” Ruby started, all three women standing here were not that different in age. It was sad. The thought that the person Belle had once loved turned out to be such a monster.

“I already told the officers earlier I have no idea where he went.” She sounded tired. Exhausted, not necessarily physically (she had stayed mostly locked up in this house avoiding society since Gold’s arrest) but emotionally.

“We’re here to help, Belle.” Emma offered. Though as the quiet settled over the three women Emma heard the snap of a twig a few feet from her and perked up immediately. “What was that?”

“What?” Ruby and Belle both asked, not recognizing the sound Emma had definitely heard.

“Go inside I’ll be right back.” Emma said authoritatively, locking eyes with Ruby and telling her not to question her.

Once Emma heard the front door close, she slowly made her way down the porch steps and into the grass. Careful not to step on any stray branches. Like whomever was lurking around this house had just made the mistake of doing. She slowly moved around the bend, the surroundings too dark for her to tell exactly what was in front of her. Until her eyes adjusted and took advantage of the soft light coming from an upstairs window of Belle’s house. A figure was about 200 feet ahead of her in the dark. Hooded. Wearing all black, with a slight limp. Gold.

Un-fucking-believable. Emma took off after Gold, sprinting as fast as her legs allowed while he just ran faster and faster. The open field next to his old house providing a clear view of the back of the hood. Emma pushed harder trying to catch Gold, knowing she could. He didn’t have his cane and probably couldn’t sustain this pace for long. So she surged, taking in stride the extra few feet. She was within grasp of him now, her heart racing, pulse about to explode from within her chest. Emma’s breath ragged, she could grab his hood if she were just a foot closer. Whatever powerful source from within her took action and gave her the extra push she needed and Emma closed the gap. Tripping as she did to fall on top of Gold’s body and collapse into the field.

Emma heaved, pushing any breath out she could to calm the pounding in her chest as she secured herself on top of him, grabbing his arms to pin them to the ground beneath. But when the hooded figure turned their face toward Emma and her eyes focused on the person she had tackled to the ground she realized it wasn’t Gold she was on top of. No, it wasn’t a man at all. In fact, it was a woman. The face now so familiar to her, Emma could have sworn they met before.

“Milah.” Emma gasped. It wasn’t a question, there was no question about it. Emma knew who this woman was despite having never really encountered her before. Looking down at the wild haired, brown-eyed woman who had left Neal motherless and broken Killian’s heart all within one lifetime.

[zacharydempsey]

Stay Away | Zach Dempsey x Reader (ft. Monty Dela Cruz)

Genre: Angst, Romance POV: Reader’s/First Person Warning: Containg swearing, violence and sexual harrasment!!

A/N: This was personally hard for me to write, but it was requested. It’s a bit heavy and it’s not the usual fluffy write-up you guys often get from me. Nonetheless, I will be posting a new fluff piece tomorrow, so stay tuned! Meanwhile, I hope you guys like this for now.

Request: Hai, I was wondering if you could do an imagine where Zach and his girlfriend (the reader) are hanging out and he despite her trying to hide them he sees a bunch of bruises on her and gets really worried and mad asking her what happened only for her to tell him that Montgomery had beat her up in a drunken state because she refused to sleep with him. This causes Zach to get mad and go beat him up and threatening him to never go near the reader again.

—–

Zach and I were watching TV when he suddenly said he was hungry. I pout at him and sigh as a response as I got up from the sofa and make my way to the kitchen to quickly cook something up. Zach was feeling a bit hungover after yesterday and he loved being treated like a baby whenever he was sick. I took out 2 bowls of instant ramen to satisfy his hunger.

I held onto the sleeves of my sweater while leaning on the kitchen counter as I waited for the water to boil. The incident from Jessica’s party last night replayed in my mind once again. Zach would flip if he knew and I didn’t want to ruin Zach and Monty’s friendship. Besides, Monty was just drunk, I think to myself, he was just intoxicated and didn’t know what he was doing. But it still wasn’t an excuse, I continue to think. The incident scared me, Monty, scared me.

A couple of minutes later and the water was done boiling. I quickly wipe my cheeks dry with the sleeves of my sweater and continued to get the noodles ready. After doing so, I went back to the living room with a bowl of ramen in each hand.

“Thank you baby.” Zach says as I hand him over his bowl of ramen and he pouts while looking up at me.

“Let’s eat!” I answer as I pinch the bridge of his nose.

A few minutes and 2 bowls of ice cream later, we finally finish eating. Zach lets out a burp and I smile faintly at him as he did.

“I’ll wash the dishes.” He suddenly proposes.

“You can’t, you feel sick.” I answer as I take the dirty ice cream bowls away from his hands.

“I’m sick but I’m not terminally ill; I can wash a couple of bowls, babe.” He argues as he takes the bowls back again.

“Zachary Shan Yung Dempsey.” I say sternly and he automatically stops and hands me the dirty dishes with a sad look on his face.

“Alright fine. I’m just gonna watch you while you do the dishes then. You know, I need to supervise. I need to make sure that you’re washing the dishes correctly.” He replies as he winks at me.

“Oh shut up, Zach.” I snap at him and we both laugh. I then move to the kitchen with him and get started with washing the dishes.

“Jessica’s party yesterday was wild.” He suddenly says and I was caught off guard all I could do was let out a nervous laugh and a slight nod.

“I had too much to drink. I can’t even remember how I got home.” He continues.

“Jeff drived us home babe.” I reply softly and he laughs.

“Oh, I have to text him a thank you later then.” he replies as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and proceeded to give my forehead a kiss. I felt so safe whenever he was around, something I wasn’t able to feel with the incident yesterday. I exhale softly as I continued washing the bowls.

“Wait. What’s that?” Zach suddenly exclaims and I look at him.

“What’s what?” I ask.

“That! What’s that!? Where did you get those marks?!” He asks me as he moves over to my right and points at my wrist and my arm. I didn’t even notice that I involuntarily pulled my sleeves upwards because I was going to wash the dishes. I almost forgot that I had the bruises on my arm. My heart had started racing against my chest as I thought of a valid excuse.

“I fell.” I say timidly as I avoid his gaze.

“No. Don’t lie to me. Those are hand marks; they’re not bruises you get by falling. I’m not stupid.” He replies as he turns the faucet off.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” I answer, still avoiding his eyes.

“Did something happen yesterday?” He asks.

“No, no, nothing happened.” I mumble under my breath as I stared at the sink. He proceeds to hold my shoulders and turn my body to face him.

“Babe, please just tell me the truth. Did something happen yesterday?” He asks, his face was completely serious now but his eyes were so full of concern. The scene replayed in my head once again.

—–

FLASHBACK TO YESTERDAY

Saturday night - another host, another party, another story. It was late into the night and everyone obviously had too much to drink, excluding me. I had to take care of my boyfriend since he can get pretty idiotic when he’s drunk. I was in Jessica’s room using her desktop to finish up an essay - boring old me - when the door swung open and the foul smell of vodka came rushing into the room. A completely intoxicated Montgomery De La Cruz walked - or at least tried to - into the room with a red solo cup in his hand.

“Monty the bathroom’s on the other end of the hallway.” I tell him as I laughed nervously.

“No, no, I know that.” he mumbles as he makes his way towards me.

“What are you doing in here?” I ask him as I got up to help him sit on Jess’ bed. He probably just needed to rest, I thought to myself.

“You know what, Y/N? You’re seriously hot as fuck. We would make great babies.” He slurs as he leans into my ear. He reeked of alcohol.

“You’re drunk Monty, I’m gonna go downstairs and you can just, I don’t know, sleep here or whatever.” I say as I walk back to the desk to save my essay and turn the computer off. Just when I was about to open the door, he proceeds to grab my arm and push me onto the wall. I was completely shocked at his current state. This was the first time I’ve ever seen him like this.

He proceeds to violently crash his lips onto mine and I try to scream as I struggle to get out of his grasp but he pins me down on the wall even tighter. He had my arms above my head and was holding onto them with the strength of one hand while his other hand was playing around with the hem of my satin top. A few seconds later and I felt his fingers graze on my hips and I panicked.

I already had no control over my upper body but I figured I could still move my legs. With all my might, I kicked his leg with my right foot and he instantly drops to the floor as he screams in pain while holding onto his leg in a fetus position. I grab my jacket on the floor and hastily wipe the tears on my face before sprinting back down to the living room only to find Zach sprawled out on the couch asleep. Suddenly, someone grabs me by the shoulder and I jump in shock as I turned around sobbing and I see a confused Jeff Atkins in front of me.

“Y/N? I’m sorry! Did I scare you? Are you okay? What happened?” he asks me and I just continued to wipe away tear after tear that rolled down my cheeks. Luckily, everyone was preoccupied outside in the garden playing a game of suck and blow. I didn’t want to make a scene.

“Jeff can you please take us home?” I ask Jeff in between breaths and he nods in response as he rubs my arm up and down. He then walked towards Zach and we both helped him up as we walked to the car. Jeff made me sit in the front seat while he took care of Zach in the passenger seat. I just sat there with my face buried in the palms of my hands as I continued to sob.

“Are you okay, Y/N? I’m sorry if I’m prying.” Jeff asks as he drove to my house.

“No I’m not okay Jeff and I’m sorry but I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” I answer and he lets out another soft ‘sorry’ as he drove steadily ahead. A few minutes later and we arrive at my house.

“Please take care of Zach for me. Thank you so much Jeff. I’ll see you in school.” I say before stepping out of the car and going into the house. I ran up my bedroom, took my clothes off and decided that a hot shower would be best to wash every lingering thing on my body. I bawled my eyes out as I hugged myself while the hot water trickled down my body. I was scared, I felt completely unsafe. Sometimes, the people who are closest to us are the ones who can really hurt us the most.

—–

PRESENT TIME

“He did that to you?” Zach asks after I tell him the whole story. His fists were clenched tightly in his sides, his eyes were filled with rage as he continued to breathe deeply. He exhaled before going back to the living room and taking his car keys then his phone.

“Zach?” I ask as I follow behind him.

“Zachary?!” I exclaim but he still wasn’t listening, instead he was pressing frantically on his phone.

“What are you doing?!” I yell at him in frustration.

“I asked Justin where they are. They’re in Bryce’s. Come on, let’s go.” Zach responds as takes my hand and we both ride his car.

“This is a bad idea, Zach. I didn’t want any of this to happen in the first place.” I say as I cry inside his car and he starts to drive. He has never driven this fast before and it terrified the hell out of me.

“Zach please slow down, you’re scaring me!” I say as I hold onto the side of the car door but he doesn’t listen to me.

“Zachary! Slow down you’re gonna kill us both!” I yell at him and his speed decreases a little bit. However, he was still ignorning me.

“Nothing happened! Please just forget about it!” I scream which finally catches his attention.

“It’s great that nothing happened! But what if something did happen, Y/N? I could never live with myself knowing that you got hurt and I wasn’t there to protect you! It would kill me, Y/N! I shouldn’t have drank too much. If I was awake, and I was with you, all of this wouldn’t have happened.” he answers, tears started forming in the corners of his eyes which broke my heart. He was blaming himself when in reality, he did nothing wrong.

“No, baby, Zachary you did nothing wrong. Please don’t ever think like that. Let’s just please go home.” I say as the car comes to a screeching halt.

“Too late, we’re already here.” He replies as he gets off the car and rushes into Bryce’s place.

“Shit.” I mumble underneath my breath as I ran after him.

“Montgomery!” He called out as he approached the small house behind Bryce’s swimming pool.

“MONTGOMERY!” He roared once again, his chest pumping up and down as he breathed heavily. A few seconds later and Justin, Bryce, Alex and Monty all come out to face Zach.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Alex asks as he rushes over to me from behind them when he saw me crying. Three seconds later and Montgomery was rolling on the floor in pain as blood continued to run down from his nose. Justin pulled Zach back while Bryce helped Monty to sit up. Everything was even more tense than before.

“What the fuck Dempsey?!” Bryce exclaims as he walks over to Zach.

“You don’t just come crashing into my house and then cause trouble, man!” he continues but Zach ignores him and walks nearer towards Monty despite Justin pulling him away.

“You. Stay the fuck away from Y/N. Keep your fucking distance from my girlfriend. If I ever see you near her again, it’s not just your nose that’s going to break, you hear me?!” Zach threatens him as he held onto Monty’s bloodstained shirt. Zach lifts his fist once again but then withdraws when Monty lets out a soft whimper in pain. He releases his grip from Monty’s clothes and walks back over to where I was standing with Alex.

“Let’s go home.” he says as he gently grabs my hand and we walk away from the scene. Justin proceeds to run after us.

“Zach, is everything alright?” he asks as he catches up.

“Yeah man, everything’s good. Just wanted to teach that asshole a lesson.” Zach replies.

“What happened?” Justin continues to ask.

“Well yesterday–” he begins but I hold his hand firmly to make him stop. He glances over at me and I shake my head at him. I didn’t want the issue to blow up. So much damage has been done and I really didn’t want to ruin any friendships, it was never my intention.

“Nothing, man. It’s all good. We’re just gonna leave, now.” Zach replies and Justin lets out a sigh as he holds onto Zach and I’s shoulders with each of his hands.

“Fine. I get it. We’ll see you guys at school.” he finally says and Zach and I proceeded to walk back to his car and drive.

“You didn’t have to do that, Zachary.” I say as I fasten my seatbelt.

“I had to Y/N. You think I’d let him get away with it just like that? He’s a fucking snake. He went behind my back and more importantly, he hurt you. What kind of friend does that? I won’t let anyone hurt you, as long as you’re with me, you’re safe. I know nothing happened but what if something did? What if you weren’t able to get away? What if–” he says and I cut him off.

“Please stop thinking like that, babe. I’m safe, I’m okay, I promise.” I say softly as I wipe a tear off of my face. Zach then lifts my head and turns me to face him. He cups my face with his hand while stroking my cheek tenderly.

“I hate seeing you in pain. I hate seeing you cry. I never want you to get hurt, ever.” He says before leaning over me and giving me a quick kiss on my forehead.

“You’re too sweet.” I reply as a soft laugh escapes my lips which makes the corner of Zach’s lips curl upwards into a smile.

“It’s nice to finally see you smile again, baby.” he says and we drive off back to his house.

—–

A/N: The end. Sorry for this being short and heavy. Idk if I can write like this again tbh lol, but yeah. I’m hoping the person who requested it likes it. c: