#screaming and yelling these lyrics from the rooftop

[ihavealavalamp]

Same as Cash, The Mountain Goats [x]

[yamysunmoon]

Karaoke Night

Pairing: Jenna ortega x fem!reader

Summary: you find yourself at a Karaoke bar celebrating your best friend's birthday. Little you know it's gonna be a wild night.

word count: 5k

Warnings: MDNI +18, switch!Jenna, switch!reader, fingering, oral. Fluff.

MASTERLIST

It had been a while since you last went to a karaoke bar.

You really liked to sing shitty songs with your friends, but life had gotten in the way for the past few months and you all just didn't have the time to hang out for more than a coffee date for a couple hours.

But tonight, it's your best friend's birthday and the miracle has happened: the whole gang is here. You've known eachother since teenagers but adult life gets messier; some of you have found jobs, others are trying to finish their studies— So yeah, life gets in the way but you still get to share special dates like this.

You enter the bar already laughing your asses out and catching up. The birthday girl asks for a round of shots.

"Girl, don't! I have to work tomorrow" you complain giggling, feidging outrage.

She waves her hand, dismissive. "Just a shot" she says glancing at you, her eyes glimmering with complicity. You both know it could land to something more, but the vibe is too good to say no.

Couple of beers later and some shots, you're all really into the mood for some karaoke.

They give you the main scenario, where the main bar is. They have several separate rooms too. They're all taken, the speakers in one of the rooms are specially blasting out, the door is even shaking as everyone in there sings the chorus of "Shallow" from the rooftops.

Your friends choose Nelly Furtado, the introduction of "Say it Right" starts playing. Your bestfriend is singing the first verse when you decide to go to the bathroom, planning a epic entrance right before the chorus.

As you head there, the door from the loud room opens and this gorgeous girl steps out of there. She's heading to the bar, and your arms brush as you walk the opposite way.

"Woh, sorry" she apologizes, staggering slightly. She grazes your arm with her hand, smiling sheepishly. Your eyes meet, and you find yourself momentarily hypnotized by those big, sparkling brown eyes.

"Oh— no problem. Don't worry about it" you stammer, your eyes briefly darting at her lips before looking up at her eyes again.

Your eyes lock for a hot second, neither of you know what to do next. "Well... See you around!" you manage to say, finally breaking eye contact and heading to the bathroom. You roll your eyes and rub your forehead. "What the fuck..." you mutter, fully aware that you sounded weird.

You take a piss, the chorus of "Say it right" reaches your ears. You get out of the bathroom as quick as you can.

"Oh you don't mean nothing at all to meee" you yell between chuckles as you past the bar to the monitor where your friends are. The pretty girl is standing there, her elbows resting on the bar as she props her chin on her hand, chatting with the bartender.

When you realize she's still there, the damage has already been done— she has seen you screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs, out of tone and choked in chuckles.

Your cheeks blush pale pink, you briefly glance at her before focusing on your friends; your best friend shares her microphone with you as the song reaches its end.

"Who's the sexy girl?" she asks to your ear when the song is over. Your friends are choosing the next one, the microphone is off.

Even now that the club lights help hiding your flushed state, she sees through you. "I... Don't know" you mumble shrugging.

"Well, you might want to" she says playfully, wiggling her eyebrows, a smirk curling up her lips.

You swat her shoulder playfully. "Shut up", you giggle.

"What? She's gorgeous" she looks at her shamelessly.

She's sitting there, still talking with the bartender. She takes a sip of her bottle of beer as she listens to her. She's wearing black jeans, old good adidas and a white shirt that could use a good ironing. She has short hair grazing her shoulders and her back. For a moment you're envious of a bottle of cheap beer.

"Go talk to her or I will" your friend warns. Your eyes dart to her, wide.

"Don't you dare" you warn too, knowing she can be painfully obvious when she tries to find someone for you.

She giggles, "You know what to do then... She's been there for too long now, she's obviously waiting for her chance to talk to you."

You huff. She can get really annoying when she's right about something.

Sighing deeply, you steel your nerves and walk towards her. She glances at you briefly but her eyes flicker to the waitress again, feidging been oblivious to you.

This makes you regain confidence. You take a seat right beside her. "Hey, you" you lean in closer so that she can hear you over the blasted music.

Your eyes meet, but just for a moment before you look at the waitress and ask for a drink. You can feel her gaze lingering on your profile side, and your smile grows wider as you speak to the waitress.

"Hi" she says at last, watching you while you sit more comfortably. "Having fun?"

You glance at her. Small talk, okay, you can do small talk.

"Yeah, it's my friend's birthday" you point at her with your thumb; she looks behind you and smirks when she finds your friends wailing "My All" by Mariah Carey.

"Yeah, they seem cool" she comments. Her eyes are flickering between your gang and you; she seems distracted.

She doesn't add anything else, so you give her a sly smile and ask, "so why are you here?" She jolts a little, realizing her mistake.

"Oh! I'm here with my friends too. Also a birthday, in fact" she gestures with her hands, one of them holding the beer bottle.

You look at her intently, noticing the laid-back way in which she carries herself; her easygoing body language immediately catches your eye.

The chorus of the song repeats again, and you have the impulsive thought of dancing with her. "Come on, let's dance", you find yourself speaking before shyness takes the best of you.

You dare to take her hand and lead her to the dancefloor next to the spot where your friends are. You notice their playful glances but decide to ignore them, instead you only have eyes for her.

"By the way, what's your name?" you lean in really close to her ear, she turns her head after hearing you; your faces being just some inches away.

"Jenna" she gives you the charmiest of smiles, "what about you?"

You tell her your name, she says it suits you; which makes you laugh. Your bodies swing getting closer and closer as you exhange some silly jokes and small talks.

The beat of the song guides you closer to her. She can't take her eyes off you, and you find adorable how she tries to have a conversation when it's clear she's being distracted by you.

Her big brown eyes are a bottomless pit, like a sparkling black hole that drawns you. You feel absorbed, intoxicated, enchanted.

You decide to place your hands on her shoulders, swinging before her. This time she's fast; she grabs your arms and readjust them so that they are wrapped around her neck.

This makes you get closer, your clothes graze her white shirt. One of her hands settle on your waist, the other cups your cheek. You smile warmly and lean into her touch, admiring her face; her gaze slides to your mouth.

"What a feeling" by Irene Cara is blowing the speakers up when you finally kiss. She tastes like beer and ment, a combination that seems odd at first, but turns addictive very quickly.

A hot make out session and some heavy petting later, you find yourself on her couch.

Your friends were heading home anyways, you say to yourself. Hers were gonna stay there a little longer, but "I wanna take you home", she had whispered in your ear after leaving a soft kiss there.

You couldn't say no.

And so here you are, with this stranger in her fancy apartment. "You have a sense of style, huh?" you comment as you look around.

She comes back from the kitchen and sits by your side, handing you the glass of water you asked for. "Yeah, I guess? I hired an interior designer, and my parents helped me too."

You squint at her and tilt your head, curious and confused. "An interior designer? Fuck" you can't help but to sound impress, which you are.

She freezes momentarily, then chuckles nervously. "Yeah, uh, well..." she shrugs and looks down, playing with the new bottle of beer between her hands.

You notice the shift in her demeanor, your tipsy mind trying to think.

"Wait. Are you, like... A celebrity?" you ask warily, leaning closer to her.

She glances at you. "I guess you could say that" she admits, "I'm an actress."

You sit up straighter, nodding slowly. "Oh." You deliberate whether to ask further or not, coming up with the solution in a second.

"And why would you act all shy about it?" you tease, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

She relaxes instantly and gives you a playful stare. "Shut up," she swats your arm softly "It's just that I thought you knew" she adds in a murmur.

You wiggle your eyebrows. "Oh, should I know?" you lean closer, leaving the glass on the table. You reach her sides, your hands wandering making her squirm.

"Ugh, no" she refutes sulking, but her smile gives her away. She settles her bottle aside too; she faces you and lets her hands roam over your sides too, tickling.

You both giggle softly, getting closer and closer till your lips meet again.

After some seconds making out, your breathing gets heavier and your clothes are bothering you.

"I've never done this before" you mutter on her lips.

She was staring at your mouth, but her eyes flicker to yours. "You mean like, with a celebrity?" she asks warily.

"No," you chuckle softly "I mean, like hook up like this. With a stranger."

She trails off a little, only to smirk. "Oh, a classic girl" her gaze is wandering all over your face now, admiring each detail.

You snort, smiling and shaking your head. "Don't be all smug about it" you roll your eyes, then you lean in again.

She nods softly. "Okay, okay" she whispers before parting her lips and capturing yours.

Soon after, both of your pants end up tossed somewhere on the floor, and she leads you to her bedroom.

You both lie down on your sides as you keep kissing. Her lips are soft and full, you can feel her hands cardling through your hair and a shiver runs through your spine.

You hum and whine quietly against her mouth, she scoots closer and parts her lips in response. You lick her bottom lip slowly before sliding your tongue into her mouth, caressing hers.

Your tongues mingle together, lips fully parted, brushing in the process. The kiss turns sloppy and passionate. Your hands grip her shirt eagerly, grasping onto her.

You tilt your head up slightly as you trail off, giving her lips a gentle lick. "Fuck, you're so hot" you whisper. She grants you a breathy chuckle.

"You're so gorgeous" she murmurs in a husky voice, tilting her head to lean in again. You kiss her readily, letting out a soft moan as you feel her teeth capturing your bottom lip and tugging at it playfully.

Her hands sneak down, leaving soft squeezes in its wake, feather-touch tracing your curves.

She breaks the kiss softly and rests her forehead on yours. "Can I?" she whispers, her breath hitches as she waits for your response.

You can see her eyes gleaming under the dim light. Her parted lips are reddish and swollen from making out with you, and her chest raises and falls with each ragged breath.

"Yes" you sigh, reaching down to grasp her wrist and guide it lower. "God, yes."

You nuzzle against each other, brushing your noses softly and you both gasp as she makes contact with your damp panties.

She traces your slit through your panties with two expert fingers, applying gentle pressure. You instantly roll your hips. "You can... Press harder" you mutter sheepishly, cheeks flushing crimson as you watch her lips curling up into a smirk.

"Yes ma'am" she teases. You let out a noise between a chuckle and a gasp.

"Oh, shut up—" you press your lips stifling a high-pitched moan that dies in your throat. Her digits are stroking harder now -yet still teasing-, and you can feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment; you feel stupid for reacting like this when she's not even touching you yet.

She bites her lip, gauging your reaction. Her breathing gets heavier. "God, you're so cute..." she mutters, brushing her lips against yours.

The blush creeps onto your ears. "God, just shut your mouth" you grumble pathetically, hiding in the crook of her neck. Your hips don't stop, though. You keep rubbing againts her fingers through your panties.

"But you are," she continues, her voice thick and velvet, "you already feel amazing and I'm not even..."

You grab her wrist again and lead her under your panties. "Just..." you interrupt her with a breathy whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you finally feel her fingers against your skin.

A groan escapes her lips as she feels your slick folds enveloping her digits, coating them with your fresh arousal. She traces your slit slowly and relentlessly, from your clit to your entrance and back to your clit, applying just the right pressure depending on the spot she's exploring.

You hitch one leg over her thighs, allowing her more access and giving yourself more room to move. You start grinding deeper, your stomach brushing against hers through your shirts with each thrust; fabric grazing your skin makes you both shiver.

You trail off and your half-lidded eyes meet. She leans in and kisses you passionately, whispering sweet words between kisses as her touch turns more firm.

She changes the pace, rubbing the base of her fingers against your clit as their tips massage your entrance in circles. You stifle a whimper, you capture her bottom lip and suck it gently; she moans in response.

You pull your hips forward deeply, one of her fingers sliding inside you easily. She gasps in surprise, "oh fuck—".

You start bucking, riding her finger slowly but steadily, pushing your hips forward eagerly with each thrust. She curls her finger slightly, tapping that sweet spot inside you that makes you shudder.

You grip her shoulders and rest your forehead on hers, panting against her mouth. She´s panting too, watching your every move with hooded, hazy eyes.

Her free hand is hovering over your torso, not quite deciding where to stay; so she spreads gentle caresses over your boobs and stomach.

At a given moment, she presses her palm against your lower stomach, making you quiver.

"F-fuck, don't do that" you snap in a hot whisper, biting her bottom lip as a scold.

She lets out a grumpy, playful whine. "Why? God, you're tough" she teases, but she rubs your stomach softly instead.

You huff, your breathing becoming laboured already. "Because I don't wanna... Yet" you admit in a mutter, avoiding her gaze by looking at her chin. You notice the mark she has there and can't help but nip it lightly.

She widens her eyes at your admission, but when she's about to complain, her words die in her lips in the shape of a quiet moan at your playfull bite.

"Okay, okay" she concedes breathily, lighting her touch further. "Can you... Get rid of those, though?" she looks down at your panties, her hand underneath them being an obscene bulge that distracts you for a second.

"Yeah. Yeah of course" you whisper back. She removes her hand making you stiff for a second as you feel the sudden lack of her inside you.

You sit up, taking them off. You watch her for a moment— they way she's laying there, just in her panties and that wrinkled shirt.

Without saying a word, you grab the hem of your shirt and also take it off. You're not wearing any bra, and her eyes sparkle and widen as she looks at you fully naked.

"Jesus christ" she pants out, and now she's the one blushing. She sits up slighty, her hands reaching up to cup your breasts. "God, you're so beautiful" she says, transfixed.

You scoff trying to maintain any sort of control. "And you're such a sweet talker" you murmur.

Her eyes were on your chest, but they meet yours as she leers at you. "Haven't been more honest in my life." she says in a low, husky voice. She leans in closer, "But instead of speaking, I can just show you" she adds before kissing you again.

You melt into the kiss, letting her make you lie down as she gets on top of you. You wrap your legs around her waist, she gasps against your lips and peeks down admiring how you've spread for her.

Her hands roam your sides, down to your thighs, which she squeezes eagerly before sliding one hand between them again, resuming with her previous touch.

You throw your head back, choked moans escape your lips as she dips into you again. You feel her curled finger sliding in and out deliciously, hitting all the right spots as she rubs your clit with her thumb.

"Like this?" she whispers in a thick voice, hooded eyes focused on you. You glance at her; her short hair falls like a curtain, spreading her scent. She smells like fresh shampoo and tequila.

You tuck strands of hair behind her ears and grasp the sides of her head pulling her closer. "Yes" you hiss breathlessly, your hips rolling against her finger relentless. "More" you add, brushing your lips against hers as you speak.

She leans in and leaves a messy top lip kiss as she pulls out only to add a second finger. You frown in pleasure and moan, tilting your head to leave wet kisses along her cheek, down to her neck.

"Oh— my god" she whines, deeply aroused by your sultry kisses and the way your body responds to her. She can feel your inner walls pulsing rhythmically around her digits, making her wanna plunge deeper.

She doesn't even has to ask— you shove your hips further, feeling your body acommodate to the intrusion easily. Soon enough, you can feel her knuckles brushing against your outer lips.

You peek down, then back at her. You find her glancing down, amazed. She looks back at you, "Wow, that was easier than expected" she says in a breathy chuckle.

You wiggle your hips experimentally, smirking. "Meh, your fingers are not that large" you tease, although you visibly writhle as she rubs that spot inside you.

She rolls her eyes, a sly smile tugging at the side of her lips that makes her dimple enhance. "You're truly impossible" she mutters shaking her head before going for your neck, nibbling it playfully as she resumes her thrusts.

You meet each one with renewed vigor, secretly proud of how perfectly she feels inside you. Your hands slide to the back of her head, pulling her closer and tilting your head to give her better access to your neck.

Squelching noises fill the room, making you shove harder, fucking yourself with her fingers. You nip her right shoulder, leaving reddish marks on her exposed skin, her shirt sliding down her shoulder as you unbutton it.

You look at her, admiring her beautiful face contorted in pleasure and concentration. You slide one hand to cup her left cheek, and you drag your thumb across her lips. These part and nip at the tip of your digit, only to lick it soothingly afterwards.

This drives you to the edge, your hips stutter as you roll them against her more purposefully, grasping onto her shoulder as you feel it coming.

"fuck fuck fuck" you mutter desperately, the delicious tension building inside you.

She was propping herself on her free hand, but now she digs her knees on the mattress so that she can sneak down her hand and press her palm against your lower stomach in that way that almost sent you earlier.

That's what finally makes you snap. The combined sensation of her fingers curled inside you, tapping at that spot; her thumb rubbing your clit relentlessly and now her other hand pushing down, makes you utterly lose control; milking her fingers for all they're worth.

You let out a shuddering final pant, writhering beneath her. Your legs are still trembling with aftershocks as she keeps moving inside you but slower and gentler, helping you ride out the waves.

She hears you hiss quietly, the sensations feeling like too much, so she gives your inner walls one last touch before she withdraws her hand, sliding it up your mound and side.

"Fucking hell..." you murmur wrapping your arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

You whine as you feel her relax, laying her body on yours. The pressure of her stomach against your mound is soothing. "You're so sweet..." she says in a husky voice as she peppers kisses along your neck.

"Ugh," you huff, rolling your eyes playfully and also in contentment for her touches, "stop it already." Your voice is hoarse from the moaning.

She chuckles against your skin, making you shiver. But you roll over, making her lay down before she can complain.

"Oh!" she lets out a startled laugh, "Okay, that was unexpected" she sprawls back comfortably beneath you, giving you her best smirk as her eyes sparkle with mischief.

You narrow your eyes, smiling. "You're such a yapper, aren't you?" you lean in, exploring her neck and lower.

Her playful giggles turn breathy. "I... Maybe..." she tries, slowly getting lost in sensations. You can feel her hands splayed out on your back, caressing kind of eagerly.

Now is your turn to giggle as you unbutton the buttons left tied on her shirt and trace her collarbone and cleavage with your tongue. "Oh, so there is a way to make you shut up."

She clicks her tongue, but her back arches before she can even process how her body is reacting. The fabric slides off her arms as you undress her, she sits up slightly to help you.

Her gaze is intense as she stares at you with half-lidded eyes; a soft pale pink tone is coloring her cheeks. When your eyes lock, she instantly spreads her legs wider around your waist.

You feel a sudden urge to feel her, to taste her.

Your breathing becomes ragged as you take off her panties, finally having her bare before you. You let out a whiny sigh, eyes darting everywhere.

You don't have to say a word. She lays down again, pillows behind her back keep her slightly sat up. She bends up her legs and spread them again, presenting herself to you.

You stare at her bluntly, mouth ajar. Even under the dim light you can see how excited she is.

You curse to yourself as you lay on your stomach and dive into her without further delay.

Her fingers slide into your hair as you hover over her wet folds, inhaling her scent. You graze her slit with the tip of your nose, making her squirm slightly. Stirred up by her contained reaction, you drag your flattened tongue from her entrance to her clit.

She writhels more now, her nails scratch your scalp lightly. "Hmph... Fuck..." she whines in that husky voice that's been driving you insane all night.

You find yourself surprised and obviously aroused by hearing her unrestricted noises for the first time. She's been so focused on you until now, and now she can let go to her own pleasure.

You start lapping with renewed enthusiasm, tilting your head up and down slightly; and forward when you want to apply more pressure.

Her hips start rolling in response, fucking your mouth deliciously as she tugs at your hair lightly.

You moan against her, encouraging her grip. "Yeah? You like that?" she asks breathless, and the way she sounds makes you suck harder.

Obscene slurping sounds fill the room as you work on her entrance, tasting her shamelessly. Then you lick up and wrap your lips around her swollen clit, sucking it in the perfect pace as you tap it with your tongue.

She's sloppy, warm and genuinely tastes amazing. You roll your eyes a little, enjoying yourself as she gets off thanks to you.

You release her clit trailing off slightly, she whines pathetically in complain "Hmm, gorgeous...?" she purrs running her fingers through your hair, as in trying to seduce you into resuming.

You peek at her briefly, smirking mischievously. Your eyes have a cheeky glimmer in them that makes her feel dizzy. She Bites her lip, ogling at you as she notices her fluids all over your mouth and chin.

You part your lips and drag them along her folds, going lower. She hisses and throws her head back, lifting her hips.

"Fuck, I don't know what are you up to, but you can do it" she drawls, her voice strained as she tries to hold back.

A breathy laugh escapes your lips, turning into a warm puff against her wet folds. She whines and squirms, restless. You decide to have some mercy, and finally slide your tongue inside her steadily.

She lifts her hips further immediately. "Fuck— yes!" she chants, her hands gripping your hair firmly.

You plunge inside her more firmly; as far as you can go, her inner walls stretching around you. She bucks against you, rolling her hips in a pace that makes you moan; your sounds muffled against her flesh.

Her words turn incoherent, her legs tremble, it's obvious she's making an effort to not drap them around your neck.

You scoop the back of her thighs, supporting them and encouraging her to wrap her legs around your shoulders. She takes the hint and scoots lower; you feel her warm skin around your neck.

"Damn it feels so amazing" she manages to pant out in a low, hoarse voice.

You double your efforts, bobbing your head so that your tongue slides in and out of her. The change in position allows you to delve deeper, brushing your lips against her folds with each thrust. One of your hands gropes her right side and buttcheek as your other hand reaches her neglected clit, rubbing it in circles.

Her eyes snap open at the dual stimulation of your mouth and fingers, her body twitches, hips rolling frantically. You can tell she's close, which makes you wanna act up on your dirty thoughts quickly. You pull out your tongue and drag it firmly upwards, replacing your fingers on her clit with it.

She moans louder, and her grinds become impatient, her pussy aching for further penetration.

You pant against her between laps, and slide your hand between her legs. She shudders in anticipation. "Yes. Yes yes yes, please. Please do it" she hisses and begs, her voice husky and high-pitched.

You slide one finger in without further hesitation. The moan she grants you with makes you press your flat tongue against her greedily.

She bucks against you at a frenzied pace, your muffled moans against her skin as you suck her and the wet thuds of your finger pounding into her create a lustful symphony.

Her movements turn erratic, and the moment you curl your finger and tap her g spot repeatedly, she loses it.

With a final choked keening noise, she comes undone, her release gushing, coating your finger and chin. You lick her eagerly, pulling your finger out to lap at her entrance, tasting her.

"Oh my..." aftershocks wrack through her and she quakes misserably, glancing at you with her head tilted as you feast on her.

You leave a final long lick before lifting your chin smugly. You glance at her, so proud of yourself that makes her laugh. "If I'm a yapper, then you're such a cocky girl".

Her fingers are combing through your hair in such a gentle way that makes you bite your lip to suppress a warm smile.

"Maybe I am" you murmur as you cling up. You roll onto your sides, facing eachother. She hooks one leg over yours and covers the both of your naked bodies with a blanket and a duvet.

You shiver slightly under the fresh fabric, a sharp contrast to your warm bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat.

She leans closer and her leg squeezes you keeping you near. "Oh, the smug girl finally admits her flaws" she teases. She reaches up and cleans your face with the back of her hand.

You lean back in feidging outrage, brows furrowed. "Flaws?" you repeat, a smirk tugging at your lips, "my stubborness is definitely one of my biggest strengths".

A hearted-laugh escapes her lips, she throws her head back and her shoulders bounce as the heavenly noise fills your ears, and you have this thought— that you could get used to that laugh.

"Yeah, sure right?" she looks back at you, her expression so relaxed it's even sultry. "I'd like to find out" she adds quieter, almost shyly.

There's a comfortable pause where you observe her and lean in closer. Your hands explore her sides and stomach under the warm blanket, and that thought keeps hovering your mind.

"Uh, so..." she hesitates, she licks her lips. "Do you wanna spend the night?" she finally blurts out. She blushes afterwards, realizing how desperate and nervous she sounded.

You smile warmly. "Yeah, I'd love that" your voice coming out soft and genuine, no jab this time.

She smiles back at you. "Sick" she murmurs before kissing you, tasting your wry smile as you roll your eyes playfully and kiss her back.

*some days after*

You get a text

Your friend: hey so i binged some random show on netflix the other day, and guess who fucking showed up

Your friend: *sends a screenshot*

you: girl WHAT THE FUCK

a/n: i think it's pretty obvious i used a playlist for this one lmao

[separatist-apologist]

My Whole Life Is Ruined

Summary: When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Surprise @talons-and-teeth! I'm sorry for the wait- I was not your original secret santa. I pulled this together based on what I know about you and I hope you like it! @acotargiftexchange

Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for making a moodboard with practically no instructions other than one Taylor Swift lyric and the description "Azriel has been hiding the fact he's Gwyn's mate and they have sex about it."

--

Insomnia was nothing new. 

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d fully slept through the night. The past chased the present, running in circles as she ran after her tail, almost grasping it before she woke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Sometimes, bathed in nothing but moonlight, Gwyn wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t dream of her sister, of a life long gone.

It didn’t rattle her as badly as it used to. Sitting in the bed Nesta had so graciously offered up, Gwyn pushed the blankets from her legs to let the cool, winter air caress her overheated skin. Leaving the library still felt like a picked over wound. She didn’t want to go back, cloistered away from her friends and the life she’d begun to enjoy living. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

Anxiety seemed to thrum beside her heartbeat, a constant presence she could only just shake if she was otherwise occupied. Right then, in the dead of night, Gwyn felt it snake around her until it was wrapped tight around her throat, choking a scream that always seemed so close to escaping.

She didn’t bother changing out of her thin nightdress, certain neither Cassian or Nesta would be up this late. If they were even back—they’d gone to Hewn City that evening for some meeting with a Day Court prince, giving Gwyn full run of the House of Wind. Not that she did anything terribly interesting with all that power—Gwyn got a book and some hot chocolate and spent the night curled in a chair reading until she finally dragged herself into bed.

Maybe she should have trained on the roof first. Really worn herself down so her brain was too exhausted to conjure up memories of the past, all the while whispering of how she might have prevented it, if she’d only been stronger, smarter, cleverer. Forcing her to relive it, to pick it apart to see what could have been different.

That was exhausting, too.

Cold air hit her the moment she pushed open the door, howling a greeting that might have scared someone else off. Gwyn liked the biting cold, the raucous yelling, the silhouette of the mountains looming like shadows in the distance. A half moon poured light over the rooftop, causing sleeping weapons to glint beneath. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she should have put on socks. Hair caught against her lips, and as Gwyn worked to push it out of her face, wishing for a hair tie, too. 

It wasn’t too late and yet she was already here, wasn’t she? Might as well just power through, ignoring her discomfort like she was so accustomed to. The bite of cold was a reminder she’d survived—she was alive. So what if it burned a little? Sometimes Gwyn thought she fought better when she was in pain.

And more often than not, she suspected she deserved to feel it. That the curling peace was a mistake and everyone was going to realize what an imposter she was. They’d tell her she didn’t belong with them and cast her back out. Gwyn was always just waiting for it, a hammer that might fall at any given moment. 

A blade just against her neck, never quite striking.

Gwyn pulled out a dagger, her favored weapon, and held it for a moment in her hand. Nesta was all brute strength, and Emerie terrifying yet easy grace, but Gwyn liked to be the shadow in the dark. The knife at someone's side rather than a screaming sword coming for a person's throat. While Nesta and Emeries radiated the kind of beauty that made men cower, Gwyn liked to think she was sweeter, more unassuming. People looked at Nesta, at Emerie, and were taken by their perfection.

They looked at Gwyn and wondered why she was with them. So Gwyn trained harder, made herself someone that couldn’t be ignored. Not forever, anyway. She was good at hiding, besides, taking to trees, blending into the background so often that on more than one occasion, Cassian and Nesta didn’t realize Gwyn was in the room until she cleared her throat. 

Unbalanced, Gwyn took a second dagger and for a moment, was the wind itself. Recalling the movements Azriel had been teaching her, Gwyn stepped like a dance, twisting her body and slashing her blades against invisible foes.

A real ones, too. A shadow moved from the edge of the ring, catching her by surprise. Gwyn darted, and just as Azriel had taught her, grabbed them, slamming their body to the ground. It was thunder the way that massive, familiar form crashed against the world, a mighty god dragged from the heavens themselves.

Azriel groaned, eyes closed even as his hands grabbed her waist, holding her knee painfully against his ribs. “That was good,” he gasped, fingers curling into her skin. 

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, dropping the blade she’d pressed to his throat. A thin line of blood snaked over golden, tattooed skin, staining the rather lovely black jacket he was wearing. Why was he up here, she wondered? Shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with his friends and family? 

Azriel swallowed hard, opening hazel eyes that cut through the otherwise oppressive dark to look at her.

“I’m not.”

And then he released her, letting her scramble backwards, heart thumping in her chest. Azriel didn’t move, wings spread wide around against the ground. He looked like a fallen angel and Gwyn was awed at the sight, the realization that it had been her who’d felled him. He was looking right back at her, his expression clouded by shadow. Was he angry? He said he wasn’t, but surely he didn’t appreciate being assaulted in his own home. 

Not that she saw much of him since she’d moved in. Azriel, who maintained a bedroom in the House of Wind, was suddenly gone and when Gwyn was really down, she sometimes thought it was because he didn’t like being around her. Here he was, though, clambering to his feet, his eyes sliding down her body. She could feel the heat of them like he was touching her skin and was grateful for a sudden burst of wind hitting her like a bucket of ice water.

Careful, she warned herself. 

It was hard, though. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful Azriel was. She wasn’t stupid. It didn’t hurt that in her worst moment, Azriel’s had been the very first she’d seen. A savior—a dark angel, come to wreak bloody vengeance on her sister's behalf. It had been Morrigan who’d taken her away to safety, but when Gwyn thought about how she’d escaped, she always remembered Azriel’s curved, lethal blade, sliding cleanly through the bodies of the same males who had killed her sister.

She’d always been grateful to him for it, even if she’d never tell him. He’d never once looked at her like he remembered, had never betrayed an ounce of pity. She’d expected him to say something back when he’d first joined their training, wary and distant. And maybe he knew, because he kept his distance until it was safe, had held himself at an arm's length and let her decide how much or little of him she wanted. 

The problem was Azriel himself. Outside of being the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, he was just nice. Not in the way Cassian was, with big smiles and silly jokes, but with serious eyes and a dagger in hand, forcing her to move again and again and again. Your steps are off, Gwyn—you’ll get yourself killed that way. Eyes on your opponent, don’t look away. Hold your breath, don’t let them know you’re there.

Because he knew it mattered to her. That she wouldn’t be caught off guard ever again, that Gwyn would never let someone hurt her. Often, she wondered if he didn’t understand that pain, if it didn’t mirror some tragedy of his own. They didn’t talk about it—they didn’t need to. It was an understanding between them, something so intimate she would never share it with another living soul.

She kept waiting for Azriel to step back, to tell her she’d done enough, that she should finish with Cassian. He never did. Even when he was gone, Gwyn practiced knowing he’d want to see the progress she’d made while he was gone. And when he returned, he’d wait on the roof even when she’d flippantly told him it would be easier to just send word via letter.

I don’t mind waiting.

Those words still felt so charged to her. Like he was trying to say something else, eyes glittering and bright like the stars overheard. Gwyn pulled herself from her thoughts to look up at Azriel looming overhead, his wings flared around him as if he was trying to make himself seem larger. It was working—he was massive, muscular and tall and just like before, half fallen angel, half terrifying god come to earth so he might reign. 

“You look cold,” Azriel commented, caught looking at her. 

Gwyn put her hands on her hips. So what if he was? “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.”

Smothering a smile, Gwyn asked with faux outrage, “Are you calling me a liar?”

She swore the corners of his lips twitched. “To your face, even.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Gwyn said, shifting from one leg to another, a gesture he seemed to register with sharp-eyed interest. Proof, she realized as his fingers began making quick work of his jacket. “No, that’s not—”

“Suck it up,” was Azriel’s dark voiced response, draping the warm jacket against her shoulders, leaving himself only in a black shirt stretched over his muscular torso. His eyes slid back down to her legs, lips flattening as he realized she was without shoes, too. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Gwyn could smell the heady, masculine scent of him coming from the fabric, her arms far too small for the large holes. Still, she didn’t protest, turning to look toward the outline of the mountains instead.

“Maybe. But what a way to go.”

“It’s hardly heroic to die from the cold,” Azriel murmured, turning to follow her gaze. Did he know what she was thinking? How they had nearly died in the blood rite, thrown in wearing only a thin night dress against well-armed warriors? She wondered if Azriel would have found that heroic, even if it had been the cold that had gotten them.

Gwyn blew out a breath, the steam of air curling between them as one of his shadows darted out, illuminated by starlight. It wasn’t the first time and she wondered if they thought she, too, had a shadow for them to interact with.

Or if it meant something else.

Something more.

“Inside,” Azriel finally said, a gust of wind ruffling his night dark hair.

“You’re fussy tonight,” she grumbled, not protesting when his fingers pressed against the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. Heat pulsated from the touch, settling low in her stomach. “Did something happen?”

Azriel pulled open the door with his free hand, his touch never quite leaving. “No. Hewn City is unchanging.”

She glanced up at him, the light softening the harsh lines of his face. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s predictable.”

“I want to see it,” Gwyn declared, though in truth she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Still, the corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched a bit, as if the whole thing amused him. 

“You would devour them,” was his easy, good-natured response. “To their endless delight.”

“And yet I’ve been snubbed yet again,” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Do I file my complaint with you…or…?”

“You were spared the grating presence of Vanserra,” Azriel said, cocking his head with a half smile. “But I will pass along your discontent to the High Lord.”

“Be sure that you do,” Gwyn replied, grinning by the time Azriel deposited her into a chair in the study. He didn’t go far, sitting on the arm, his wings draped behind them. She could see the flexing muscle of his thigh beneath his well-tailored pants. If she’d wanted, she could have touched him.

It was obscene how badly she wanted to. How she had to clench her fingers to fists to keep from reaching out, well aware that Azriel would withdraw entirely and, perhaps, never speak to her again. He’d been nothing if not unfailingly polite, besides…though…he had been looking at her in the clingy, short nightdress, hadn’t he? 

Just because you were cold, her mind reminded her. After all, she was still wearing his jacket. Gwyn shrugged out of it, heat blooming over her cheeks as she shoved it into his lap. There. She’d gotten to touch him without him knowing and give him back his jacket before she convinced herself to keep it.

And possibly sleep in it.

Azriel arched a dark brow, hazel eyes staring at the rumpled fabric now balled in his lap. “What did the jacket do to offend you?” he asked, taking it in broad, callused hands. He’d removed his siphons, leaving the scarred skin wholly on display. She wondered what had happened to him—and why. 

If he’d ever gotten his revenge for it.

“It’s yours—that’s enough,” she replied flippantly. Holding her gaze, Azriel picked up the jacket and brought it to his nose. Time seemed to stop, frozen entirely as she watched him do this.

And he watched her, daring her to say something. She opened her mouth, gaping, only to close it.

And Azriel smiled. Broad and unrestrained, as if he were so delighted he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head toward the roof, he murmured, “House—some tea, if you don’t mind.”

Of course the house didn’t mind. Two cups of steaming tea rattled on the coffee table before them, complete with sugar and honey, if either of them wanted it.

Gwyn didn’t think she could pick up a cup without betraying the rattle of her hands. Why? Azriel had discarded the jacket casually, tossing it to another chair like it was uninteresting to him. And was he closer, now? His thigh was, she was certain, but had his arm always been behind her. If she moved a few inches, he could have slid into the seat to join her.

He could pull you into his lap if he wanted. 

Which, of course, he didn’t

Didn’t he?

“Why are you here?” she asked, hating that breathless quality of her voice. Azriel heard it, too, head snapping to the side, nose flared as though searching for something she couldn’t place. 

“I like to be near you,” he replied. He could have thrown her across the room and surprised her less. Once again, Gwyn opened her mouth only for no sound to leave her throat. 

“You—you’re never here,” she finally managed. Azriel leaned forward, the faelights gilding the dark ink of his tattoos scrawled over his biceps. He took one of the cups and handed it to her, fingers brushing her own.

“I can’t stand being around you,” was his maddening, level response. 

Gwyn’s stomach sank. “What?”

She couldn’t drink—not when such a strange admission hung between them. Azriel, so unused to verbosity, was now forced to explain himself. It occurred to her just as he turned fully to look at her, some of the color drained from his otherwise beautiful face, that perhaps he wanted this confrontation. She didn’t, though, and wished she could have told him so. Things were fine between them—distant, maybe, and filled with a lopsided yearning on her end, but that was better than whatever he was about to do.

Gwyn had the distinct feeling Azriel was about to crush her. Emotionally ruin her. Destroy her so recklessly there would be no coming back.

“You still don’t feel it?” he asked instead, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “After all this time?”

A new fear speared through her gut. There was only one thing Azriel could possibly feel—and one thing she could possibly not. Gwyn had to set the shaking cup of tea down before bolting from her chair, arms wrapped around her chest. 

“You don’t feel anything,” she declared, deciding if she felt nothing, neither did Azriel. 

Pain lanced across his expression, replaced by grim determination. As he stood, Gwyn knew Azriel wasn’t going to let it go until they both felt exactly as he did—until she felt the mating bond. 

Gwyn shook her head, backing away as he advanced. “Don’t do this, Azriel—”

“Is it that terrible, then?” he asked her, his low words filled with a familiar emotion. One she recognized all too well—the loathing, the self-hatred, the expectation that of course she would reject him. 

“It’s—” Gwyn couldn’t breathe for the closeness of him, for the wanting to touch him. And maybe she did feel it, in her way. Had felt it the moment he’d strode into that cursed, wrecked room looking like the god of vengeance. She’d merely been too hurt to know it, too broken, too emotionally devastated. He should have frightened her and he never had.

Even then, towering over her with his muscular frame, Gwyn didn’t flinch away. She merely met his gaze with blazing defiance.

“You’re wrong,” she told him, keeping her voice light as she pushed at his chest so she could slip around him. “Or mistaken. There is no bond and I’m certain if you saw a healer, they’d—” Azriel grabbed her wrist, spinning her so her back was pressed to the floral papered wall behind her. Dipping his head, Azriel ran his nose the length of her neck.

“You’re no mistake, Gwyn.”

“I am,” she whispered without meaning to. Azriel could do so much better. Surely…surely he wanted better. What had that been like for him, she wondered, and before she could stop herself, she added, “When did you feel it?”

Something primal flared in those bright eyes of his. “Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. You touched my hand and I…” Holding up the offending hand, Azriel flexed his fingers in memory. “I felt the snap.”

That had been almost a year. It had been the last time Azriel had dinner with all of them, and right after she’d formally moved into the House of Wind. Gwyn still remembered that night—Azriel had bolted before dessert, murmuring something about needed to talk to Rhys. Gwyn had thought nothing of it—might never have thought about it again had he not pinned her against a wall to declare that had been the moment he’d felt a mating bond snap. 

“We’ve been training together for months,” she replied with no small amount of outrage. He’d been keeping this secret for that long? 

“I thought you’d feel it,” Azriel all but growled, eyes bouncing over her face. “And when you didn’t…”

“Rhys knows?”

“And Cassian—”

“So Nesta, too?!”

Gwyn shoved him again, harder this time. Azriel let her, she suspected, stepping back so she could have some breathing space. “They all know but I don’t.”

“And you’re taking the knowledge so well,” Azriel replied with a bite of sarcasm.

She whirled, wishing she had a dagger in hand even has the dried blood from his healed wound still taunted her. “I think I deserved to know before Cassian.”

“I needed his help,” Azriel admitted, running a hand over his mouth. “I needed to know how he managed it.”

“How difficult could it be,” she asked flippantly, intending to leave him there so she could think. Foolish to turn her back on a predator. Azriel had her again, wrapped in one strong arm, the other holding her jaw so she had to look at him.

“Hell,” he rasped, his anguish plain. “Every minute of it has been hell.” 

In Gwyn’s defense, she managed one, final, protest. “It’s just—”

His mouth covered hers before she could finish that statement, could say what they both knew she’d been thinking. As if he found the words so abhorrent he wouldn’t hear them, would swallow them until he’d snuffed them from their very existence.

Gwyn forgot what she’d been about to say at all. She’d thought about what it might be like to kiss him. If his mouth would be soft or rough, if he kissed like he fought or if there was passion bubbling beneath his icy exterior. She hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like or how desire would overtake her so thoroughly she didn’t care about anything else. Were those her hands cupping his neck? Her lips hungrily kissing him back like a crazed, desperate creature?

Her tongue meeting his own, her legs moving until he had her back against the wall so he could press the length of his body against hers? 

There was only one thought in her name, an echo repeated over and over. Mate. Mate. Mate. 

Maybe he should have just kissed her at that dinner. Skipped the yearning, the anguish, the uncertainty. At least they would have been kissing, anyway. Gwyn forgot herself entirely, nails digging against his shoulder until Azriel helpfully hoisted her into the air so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he panted, dragging his teeth against her neck. “I love her.”

Gwyn whimpered. What did she say to that? As it turned out—nothing. Azriel kissed her again, sparing them both whatever incoherent nonsense might have tumbled from her lips. She might have sworn she loved him too, if only to convince him to keep kissing her like he was.

Gwyn was certain Azriel’s kiss had ruined her life. How was she supposed to go back to things as they were before? It wasn't knowing that he was her mate, but knowing the way his hands felt cupped against her face and the way wildfire sparked in her blood when his tongue slid into her mouth? 

The worst of it was when his hands left her ass, letting her slide down the hard slab of his body before she was ready. He pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wild, to take a healthy step away from her, though it seemed to take an immense amount of effort. For her part, she kept herself pressed to the wall, unsure what was happening.

“You know now,” Azriel managed, his voice hoarse, “and that’s…that’s all I wanted. I ah…I should go before—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, strangely hurt by this new rejection. Gwyn knew all about mating bonds. What fae didn’t? Before she’d come here, she’d once dreamt of her own mate, giggling with her sister in their bunks as they imagined what that person might be like. If they existed at all, given the rarity of such a thing. It was almost funny that he’d been right here all along, close enough she could literally touch. 

And he was going to leave? He didn’t want to accept it? Did she? It was all happening so fast but of course you didn’t reject a mate. She could see the wariness on his face, could watch in real time as he pulled up his defenses as she realized that yes. That was exactly his expectation.

Why? She knew from Nesta’s stories that Azriel was well sought after. And she wasn’t blind. What female didn’t dream of a male with his bone structure? He was powerful and close to the High Lord, and beyond all that, Azriel was kind. A genuinely good person, the sort of male one could spend centuries with if they wanted.

What could she even offer him? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, listing all the reasons he ought to have stopped, why keeping this a secret made so much sense. She didn’t notice Azriel creeping closer and closer until his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look at him. 

“You’re doing it again,” he murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. “Thinking unkind thoughts about my mate.”

“You can’t tell me what to think,” she shot back, her own voice trembling a little. He was so certain, so unbothered and in her entire life, had anyone ever immediately felt that way about her?

Nesta and Emerie. Catrin. 

Azriel.

“You have it all wrong,” Azriel murmured and she wondered if perhaps he could read her mind. “It is you who could do so much better.”

His words drew a gust of laughter from her lips. The mother had certainly chosen well, putting the two of them together. What a pair—she wondered who would relent first? Her, or Azriel? Who would believe they deserved a mating bond first? It occurred to Gwyn, as she reached for his arm to pull him closer, that she was a shade too competitive—she wanted it to be him who broke first. Who relented first, who believed he was worthy, was deserving. 

And she could see, from that golden glint burning in his own gaze, that he was thinking the exact same thing. 

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She could taste the smile spreading over his face, sweet against the warm heat of his mouth. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize he wasn’t smiling because she’d told him to stop talking, but because she was kissing him. Gwyn hadn’t even considered not kissing.

He was her mate, after all. He was hers. She felt that the way she felt her own heart, the possession, the desire, the heat. She didn’t feel the cord the way everyone spoke of, but perhaps that was mere metaphor. After all, Gwyn believed Azriel wouldn’t lie to her about something so life altering.

Besides. She liked kissing him, new as it was. Azriel was unhurried and thorough, just like every other task she’d ever seen him undertake. And for the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like if he paid her that sort of attention in the bedroom. They stood there like that, his arm keeping her on her toes, steady against his warm, solid body. Momentarily, Gwyn wondered what might happen if Nesta and Cassian were to come in and decided she didn’t care.

How many times had she walked in on them in far more compromising positions, besides? 

Tiny steps had Gwyn flush against the wood wall, pressed against Azriel’s hard body and oh. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way that emptied her mind of all other thought beyond the desire to touch him.

And she was allowed, she realized with giddiness. He belonged to her. It was a possessive thought that overrode everything else, including all her good sense. He was hers.

“Mine,” she whispered into his mouth, not meaning to. Azriel groaned, tangling a hand in her hair to tilt back her head, his tongue delving back between her teeth to really taste her. Without the leathers he usually wore, it was surprisingly easy to find the golden buttons on his jacket, undoing them before Azriel’s own brain seemed to catch up with what was happening.

His wings flared, enveloping around them for a moment as he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

“Cassian will be home soon,” he whispered, holding her close against him as if he expected his friend to take her away. “Nesta too.” “You have a bedroom here, right?” Gwyn said with more daring than she felt. Azriel’s once half-lidded eyes flew open, those hazel eyes searching her own. 

“I do,” he whispered, swallowing audibly. “There’s no rush—”

“Please?”

One moment she’d been standing there, her hand flat against the white, linen shirt Azriel wore beneath his jacket and the next her feet were in the air, her body cradled against him as he walked.

“I can’t think when you’re around,” Azriel was saying, his steps echoing against the wood. “Can’t think just looking at you. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“It’s real,” she replied, pressing her lips to his neck. “I’m real. We’re real.”

He shuddered, all but running up a flight of stairs. There was no reaction when his wing clipped a door frame nor did he say a word when he had to use his nice shoe to slam his bedroom door shut. Gwyn wasn’t given the opportunity to really look around his space, either—though it seemed sparse and filled with dark, moody colors. 

Azriel had her on the bed, his own body over top her own before she could exhale the breath she’d just taken. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, the maddening male. She would have told him she didn’t want him to, but he was kissing her again, his burning lips all but bruising her own. Drawing a leg up, Gwyn could line up their otherwise mismatched bodies so he was pressed exactly where she wanted him. 

They were going to do this. She wanted to do this. When she managed to take a breath, the taste of blood faint against her tongue, she rasped, “Take this off.”

Azriel was on his knees in a moment, shucking off his jacket before all but ripping off his shirt, too. There in the dark with nothing but silvery moonlight to illuminate him, Gwyn was allowed to really look at him. 

He didn’t move, a lock of dark hair half obscuring the intensity of his gaze. “All of it,” she decided before she lost her nerve. 

Azriel cocked his head, his lips pursed as though he’d tell her no.

“Please,” she added.

Azriel groaned again, softer this time. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed closed and a mingling of male and female voices rose like music, a soothing hum in the background as Azriel slid off the bed entirely.

Wings tucked tightly against his toned back, he quietly locked his door before turning back to her. “We don’t have to,” he said, his fingers hovering over the laces of his pants. Gwyn had a suspicion Azriel would spend the next century saying this and she’d spend the next century  reassuring him that she wanted all of it. All of him.

Maybe he’d realize in the morning when she snuck into the kitchen and begged the house for his favorite meal. She had no idea what it was, but surely the magic that governed this place did? Would he eat it from her hands? Or would he balk, certain this was just another dream?

“I know,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Take it all off, anyway.”

Gwyn knew what Azriel was wondering but her past was murky—forgotten in the dark, the ugly replaced with his easy, unassuming beauty. Still, she held her breath as he undressed entirely, drinking in the sight of him. This was the male she’d knocked to the ground, the very same that could kill another person without a second thought.

Underneath the thick, armored leathers and weapons lay just a male made of skin and bone. Gwyn’s eyes traced the tattoos adorning his shoulders and chest, the intricate swirls snaking up his neck and vanishing behind his back. Every inch of him was muscled, softer now that he was relaxed and still present just below the warm brown of his flesh.

And between his legs…

Gwyn giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was so big—surely they weren’t supposed to be that large? That thick? There was an air of male pride shimmering around him, his legs spread a little wider as if to say, drink it all in. 

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice a dark, teasing growl. Prowling forward, Gwyn’s heart spiked loud enough he must have heard.

“I wasn’t prepared for…” For what? For him? Azriel was so quiet, so unassuming…she just assumed if he had all that going on he’d brag a little more? Swagger about the way Cassian always was? 

“I’d be a poor mate if I left you wanting,” he replied, his eyes glazed over once his knees hit the edge of the bed. Perhaps it was the sight of her, still dressed, scrambling on her hands and knees so she could crawl toward him. She just wanted to touch, to feel if his cock was as hard as it looked. 

Azriel sucked in a breath when her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, just barely touching. Looking up, she murmured, “Is this what you like?”

“I like you,” he replied, scooping up her hair in his hands as Gwyn stroked him experimentally. He choked out a sound, his heartbeat thudding in her ears. She supposed that was her answer—he liked the way she touched him.

Pride filled her chest knowing she could please her mate, even with something as simple as touching him. Gwyn stroked again, letting her wrist twist at the end as her eyes refused to leave his face.

“Gods,” he whispered, his wings tightening against his back. “I’ve imagined…Gwyn…”

She was allowed a third pass before he pushed her back, her clothes pulled off her body so quickly all she managed was to lift her hips and raise her arms. 

“Do you know how many nights I’ve laid in this exact bed and imagined you just like this?” Azriel began, his voice a dark, sultry whisper. “Splayed out…naked…undone?”

“No,” she squeaked out in response, half embarrassed to be undressed before him. Azriel’s gaze burned against her skin, warming a path from her collarbone to her thighs. 

“Would you like to know what I dream about at night?” he questioned, sinking to his knees so he was eye level with the edge of the bed. 

Arousal ribboned through her, making a fool out of her. “Yes,” she replied, strangely excited to be the object of this man’s fantasies. 

Strong, scarred fingers curled around her thighs, pushing them wider before hooking them over his shoulders. He was staring at her cunt, now, studying her like she was some priceless piece of art. 

“I dream of tasting you,” Azriel breathed, the warmth of his breath fanning against her. Gwyn squirmed when he kissed her inner thigh—the left, and then the right—before using his tongue to lightly take that first taste he’d been dreaming of. Gwyn might have asked him how he liked it had it not felt so good. 

Besides, she knew he liked it—Azriel groaned loudly, spreading her apart wider with his fingers so he could taste her everywhere. Gone was his slow exploration, his desire to take his time. All of it had been replaced with the animal kneeling between her legs, licking and touching her cunt like his life depended on it. 

All traces of her embarrassment evaporated, leaving only instinct behind. Gwyn surrendered to the urge, letting desire wash over her until it was all she knew. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, well aware he probably couldn’t. 

Azriel pushed a finger into her gently, moaning at whatever he felt. Gwyn hadn’t considered what it would feel like to share space with him—to feel him inside her own body but now…

“Az,” she panted, her hips rolling against his mouth and hand. She wanted him to stop licking, to replace his fingers with his cock. Heat was building in her chest beyond simple arousal, heavy like a chain. 

Unbreakable.

A bond. A real thread she could follow straight to the male between her legs. It reverberated and then snapped just as Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, eliciting a scream that was half his name. Could he feel it too? No—his had snapped months ago and he’d just been living with it.

Gwyn couldn’t see how. If she didn’t have him right that second she might go insane. Reaching for his powerful biceps, Gwyn tried to pull him off her but the waves of pleasure made her hands shake. 

“Az,” she tried again, his name a breathy moan against her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against him in what must have seemed like encouragement to keep going. Maybe it was—she didn’t try very hard to get him off her.

Azriel managed a third finger, a whine slipping from his throat at the effort. Gwyn just barely registered any of it, her body jerking a second time from pleasure so bright and heady she could have died from it. It was too much—Gwyn was burning, was in free-fall with no one to catch her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she yanked at him. Azriel emerged, lips wet and eyes wild. “Please,” she heard herself saying, the magic words that, apparently, could convince him to do anything she wanted. “I need you.”

His fingers were wet as they skimmed the side of her body, palm grasping her breast before his lips found hers. He tasted sweet and she supposed it was herself, truly, she was tasting on his tongue. He was hurried, his desperation making him sloppy. When his teeth clashed with her own, nipping the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Gwyn had enough.

“Az—”

“Don’t beg me,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. Caressing her cheek, Azriel added, “I’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to beg.”

“I feel it,” she replied, running her hand up and down his spine. “It’s a real thread.”

Azriel exhaled with relief, a smile ghosting his pretty face. Whispering something that sounded like gratitude toward the gods, he adjusted his body until she felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. How had he stood it? The waiting, the wanting, the utter need that Gwyn was all but drowning in. If they didn’t do this, she thought she might die from it. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.” It wasn’t a request, though Gwyn had no intention of telling him anything. She expected a little pain, expected little pleasure. Why else had he used his mouth first? 

Gwyn had read enough books to know that there was blood and pain and so when Azriel slid himself an inch into her, she braced herself against him, her nails digging into his biceps. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for even a hint of discomfort. There was something reassuring about knowing he’d stop if she wanted. That he cared if she enjoyed herself. 

Gwyn didn’t need a book to know not all males cared about such things.

Azriel took his time—like he knew he had eons of it, that he didn’t have to rush. Gwyn loved him for it, eyes burning with unshed tears at the thought. She’d tell him all this later, when they’d had a chance to breathe and eat and really talk about everything that had otherwise been left unsaid. Instead she dragged her lips down his neck and focused on the feeling of his cock in her body, pushing further and further without any of the accompanying pain she’d expected.

She was slick enough that he felt less like an intrusion and more like a welcomed guest, and once he’d seated himself entirely, it seemed as though they’d been made like two puzzle pieces destined to fit. 

It took a moment to get used to the stretch, to breathe despite the feeling of fullness. Azriel gave it to her instinctively, as if he knew exactly what she both wanted and needed. There was that same sense of I have all the time in the world, despite her knowing he was desperate. A bead of sweat slid from his temple, rolling down his neck and his arms shook from restraint.

He didn’t move. 

Not until her mouth made its way to his collarbone and she whispered, “Give me more.” He groaned loud enough to shatter the silence, pulling himself out with a slowness that bordered on madness. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “I’m losing my mind.”

She couldn’t help the exhaled smile, raking her fingers through his hair. “Did you dream of this, too?”

“No,” he admitted with a grunt, sliding his cock back into her body. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t,” he managed, thrusting again with a little more intensity. “Would have gone crazy from wanting you. Surprised you couldn’t smell it on me.”

As if she would have known what she was smelling. There was no point in telling him so—not as Azriel confessed the depths of his devotion, the lengths he’d gone to give her time, space, and whatever else she’d wanted. Would he have continued to do so forever? 

Gwyn kissed his cheek. “I want you. I want this.”

He groaned again, sliding his hand between their otherwise flushed bodies to rub at her still swollen clit. She’d been half distracted by his words to pay attention to her body but right then, when his thumb began making tight circles, Gwyn was pulled back under the depths of shadowed darkness, half consumed by the male laying on top of her. 

Their mouths met, messy and unrestrained. Strange how kissing merely heightened the pleasure coiling through her—Gwyn wouldn’t have guessed that. In her books, everything was so neat and clinical. They kissed, they touched, they fucked with nothing in between. In real life, sex was messier, more fluid. Or maybe she and Azriel merely had more passion than the people in her stories.

Those love stories had once brought her such joy. Now they seemed dimmed in comparison to what was happening to her and her own feelings. 

“I need to feel you come,” he whispered, betraying how close he must have been. Gwyn felt the same way. She needed to feel him, needed to see him wholly unraveled. All because of her—no one else was allowed to know what he sounded like, what he looked like. They got control, they got the ice but she got the heat, the impulsivity—everything he was, everything he’d ever been. 

Gwyn came to the thought of that future, tightening around him as her back arched her into his chest, offering very little give. Azriel kissed her, swallowing the sound of her moans greedily. They belonged to him, anyway. 

He came mere seconds later, his own noise of pleasure delightfully loud for a male that was so often silent. Gwyn kept herself wrapped tight around him, arms winding against his neck, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His pumping was erratic, uncontrolled and a little desperate. Gwyn was obsessed with this side of him—wanted more of it.

Azriel didn’t withdraw when he was done, his heart thudding against her breast. “It’s not enough, is it?” she whispered, thinking they both ought to feel sated. She didn’t. In her books, the heroine was always spent, the hero falling asleep not long after. The pair would wake in each other's arms, content and glowing from the night before.

Gwyn wanted to shove him to the floor and climb atop him. Wanted to hear him beg, too—wanted more of the whimpering, the groaning and everything in between.

“It was never going to be,” he panted, kissing her softly. 

“How long will it last?” she wondered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his face.

“Eternity, I imagine,” he replied, his eyes burning with that same unflinching intensity. “For me, at least.”

Gwyn’s heart exploded, racing in her throat. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, deciding she couldn’t wait for the morning. She wanted to do this right now. Wanted him to know that this meant something to her, even if she was scared, too. 

Azriel went still. “There’s no rush—”

“That’s yes or no, Azriel.”

A smile broke over his face. “Starving,” he admitted in that dark, sultry voice. 

“You have to get up,” she reminded him, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder. Azriel lowered his mouth for another kiss.

“In a minute.”

Strange how a minute could stretch.

Into lifetimes, even.

[lovestruckinthedive]

ShiGuang Fic inspired by Mirrorless by Anonymous on AO3 (in my pinned post):

(my first fic so im kinda nervous, please be nice!)

Title: You’re The Thoughts That Can’t Be Tamed

Warnings/Tags to Heed!!! MAJOR SPOILERS! Death/s, Su¡cide/s, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Breakdown (?), Happy/Hopeful Ending.

Summary: Lu Guang has a nightmare & Cheng Xiaoshi comforts him.

Lu Guang’s POV:

The air in the studio is thick with the dust motes dancing in the last rays of the setting sun. It paints the worn cushions of the couch a muted gold. He should get up. Should probably at least turn on a light. But… no. Can’t. Everything feels too heavy. Every muscle, every thought. Days blurring together, the endless stream of faces in the photos, Cheng Xiaoshi’s constant chaotic energy, the weight of each jump, each mission, each potential disaster—it all just… sits.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s been reckless lately. Taking bigger risks. Always pushing, always trying to save everyone. And Lu Guang? He’s supposed to be the anchor. The calm, steady voice. But the voices… they get louder, too. The what-ifs. The could-have-beens. They gnaw.

God, I’m tired. Bone-deep, soul-weary tired.

His eyes sting. He needs just a few minutes. A few minutes to just… be. To not be calculating trajectories, assessing risks, watching. Just… nothing. The pattern of the couch is surprisingly rough against his cheek. Almost grounding. His breathing evens out. The studio fades.

Then… nothingness.

Then him.

He’s laughing. That bright, unrestrained laugh that crinkles the corners of his eyes, the one that always manages to pull a reluctant smile from Lu Guang. But the laugh is… distorted. Echoing in a vast, empty space. He’s standing on a rooftop. The wind whips his hair around his face, obscuring his features, but Lu Guang knows it’s him. He would know Cheng Xiaoshi anywhere, in any form. But Cheng Xiaoshi has always been drawn to heights. To the edge.

Stupid, Lu Guang thinks, despite the worry gnawing at him.

“Cheng Xiaoshi!” he tries to yell, but his voice is swallowed by the wind.

He can’t move. Rooted to the spot. Panic claws at his throat now.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s looking down, not at the city sprawling beneath him, but at something else. Something Lu Guang can’t see. Cheng Xiaoshi’s smile widens, a manic, terrifying grin.

Then he steps forward.

NO!

Lu Guang lunges, but his limbs are lead. He screams, but no sound escapes.

Cheng Xiaoshi falls.

The image shatters.

Now they are in that alley. The one from… from that case with the missing girl. The rain is coming down in sheets, blurring everything, turning the grime into a slick, oily mess. He’s there, on the ground. Not laughing. Not smiling. Just… still.

A pool of crimson blossoms around him, staining the grey concrete. Someone is standing over him. A dark figure, face obscured by shadow. A glint of metal.

“No! Stop!”

But it’s too late—always too late. The figure raises the metal.

Again, Lu Guang’s paralyzed. Helpless. Always helpless, always useless.

The metal plunges.

Darkness.

Then the train station. Crowded. Bustling. A sea of faces. He’s weaving through the throng, oblivious, humming some tuneless melody. His headphones are on, blocking out the world. Lu Guang tries to reach him, but there are too many people. Hands brush against Lu Guang, faces blur, a cacophony of voices rises to a deafening roar.

Cheng Xiaoshi is pushed onto the tracks by the growing crowd. Distracted. Unaware.

The train hurtles towards him, a roaring metal beast. The ground vibrates. The air crackles with electricity.

“Look out!”

He doesn’t hear the shout.

The impact. A sickening crunch.

The image dissolves into a miasma of blood and shattered metal.

Each death is different. Each one more brutal than the last. Drowning in a river, crushed beneath rubble, consumed by fire. Each one is a nightmare painted in vivid, horrifying detail.

And in each one, Lu Guang is powerless to stop it. Useless, he thinks bitterly.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s always just out of reach. Always smiling before he’s falling, or bleeding, or just gone. But the last one, the last one is by far the worst.

They are in the studio. It’s quiet. Peaceful. The setting sun casts long shadows across the floor. Cheng Xiaoshi is sitting across from Lu Guang, his eyes bright, full of life. He’s talking, animated as always, gesturing wildly with his hands. Lu Guang can’t hear what he’s saying. The words are muffled, distorted. But Lu Guang doesn’t need to hear them. He knows them by heart. Cheng Xiaoshi’s hopes, his dreams, his endless optimism.

Cheng Xiaoshi reaches across the space between them, takes Lu Guang’s hand.

His touch is warm, familiar. Comforting.

For a moment, Lu Guang almost believes it’s real. Almost forgets the endless cycle of death and despair.

Then Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand starts to crumble.

Turning to ash.

The flesh melts away, revealing bone. The light in his eyes flickers, then dies. He’s looking at Lu Guang. Pleading. That face, so full of life, so infuriatingly Cheng Xiaoshi, contorted in pain, etched with fear. It's wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Lu Guang…” he whispers, his voice a ragged rasp, “Help them…”

Help who? Himself? Her? The endless parade of faces flashing before his eyes, each one a life he couldn’t save, a tragedy he was forced to witness. But it’s always him. Always Cheng Xiaoshi in the middle of it all, reckless and headstrong, throwing himself into the fire.

His body disintegrates before Lu Guang’s very eyes. Turning to dust, scattering in the wind. Leaving nothing behind. No vibrant color, no infuriatingly loud laughter, no warmth. Just… gone. He tries to reach out, to grab Cheng Xiaoshi, to hold him, but his hands pass right through. Lu Guang screams, but the sound is trapped in his throat, a silent, agonizing plea lost in the void.

Just emptiness. A hollow ache in his chest, a gaping wound where Cheng Xiaoshi used to be. The world is muted, colorless, meaningless without him. No witty comebacks, no shared meals, no bickering over silly topics, no comfortable silences filling the studio as they worked. Just… nothing.

Lu Guang wakes with a gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. Sweat clings to his skin, cold and clammy, like an infected wound left untreated. The surface of the couch is still rough against his cheek, the familiar discomfort oddly grounding. The studio is dark, the only light filtering in from the streetlights outside, casting long, distorted shadows that dance on the walls. Someone is shaking Lu Guang’s shoulder, a voice filled with concern trying to break through the ringing in his ears.

“Lu Guang? Hey, Lu Guang, wake up. You okay?”

It's him. It's really him—Cheng Xiaoshi. The voice, the touch, the familiar scent of cheap instant noodles and that cologne he pretends he doesn’t like but secretly does. It is Cheng Xiaoshi.

Relief floods through Lu Guang, so potent it almost knocks him back under. It tastes like air after being underwater for too long, like sunlight after a lifetime in darkness. He drags himself up, blinking against the dim light, trying to focus, to convince himself that Cheng Xiaoshi actually is here, solid, and real, and unmistakably alive.

He’s kneeling beside the couch, his brow furrowed with worry, his hand still resting tentatively on Lu Guang’s shoulder. He’s so close. Too close, maybe. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t deserve this, him seeing Lu Guang like this.

“A-Guang, you were crying in your sleep. Bad dream?”

Crying? He hadn’t even realized. The dream had been so vivid, so real, the fear still clings to him, a suffocating weight. He can’t speak, can’t find the words to explain the terror that still grips him. He just stares at Cheng Xiaoshi, drinking him in, desperately trying to reassure himself that it was just a dream. A horrible, twisted nightmare.

Lu Guang doesn’t think, doesn’t plan. He just reacts.

He lunges forward, throwing his arms around Cheng Xiaoshi, burying his face in his shoulder. He clings to him as if he’s a lifeline, the only thing anchoring him to reality. Lu Guang hugs him tightly, desperately, needing to feel his warmth, his solidity, the reassuring presence of him. His stature is large under Lu Guang’s trembling arms, but solid. Real. Alive.

“Whoa, Lu Guang! What’s wrong?” Cheng Xiaoshi stumbles back slightly, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. He can feel the tension in Lu Guang’s body, the frantic grip of his fingers. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t push him away, though, he merely tightens his own arms around Lu Guang in return.

And Lu Guang doesn’t answer. He can’t.

The words are caught in his throat, choked by the lingering fear and the overwhelming relief. He just holds on tighter, burying his face deeper into Cheng Xiaoshi’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him, letting it fill his lungs, chasing away the memory of dust and emptiness. Cold and slippery like the blood he still feels on his fingers.

Lu Guang can feel his heart beating beneath his ear, a steady, reassuring rhythm.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Alive. Cheng Xiaoshi’s alive. Lu Guang lets the sound wash over him, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask any more questions. He just holds Lu Guang. He lets him cling, lets him burrow, lets him soak his shirt with tears Lu Guang didn’t even know he was shedding. He just remains there, a quiet, unwavering presence, a safe harbor in the storm raging inside Lu Guang.

And that’s when Lu Guang finally breaks.

The dam bursts, and the tears flow freely, hot and silent. He sobs, wracking sobs that shake his entire body. He tries to stifle them, tries to regain control, but it’s of no use. The fear, the relief, the overwhelming need for Cheng Xiaoshi, all pour out in a torrent of emotion he can no longer contain. He cries for the nightmares, for the faces he couldn’t save, for the constant fear that gnaws at the edges of his mind. He cries for all the times he pushed Cheng Xiaoshi away, all the times Lu Guang pretended he didn’t care, all the times he was too afraid to admit how much Cheng Xiaoshi means to him.

Lu Guang cries for Cheng Xiaoshi, for the reckless, infuriating, wonderful human being who somehow managed to worm his way into his cold, guarded heart. He feels Cheng Xiaoshi shift slightly, adjusting his grip, pulling him even closer. He can feel Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart beating even faster now, in response to his distress.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Cheng Xiaoshi whispers, his voice soft and soothing, “Whatever it was, it’s over now. I’m here.”

Lu Guang doesn’t believe him—cannot bring himself to.

He knows the danger, the stakes. He knows that one day, he might not be able to save Cheng Xiaoshi. But for now, in this moment, he lets himself believe it, if only briefly. He lets himself cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, Lu Guang can keep Cheng Xiaoshi safe.

He stays like that for a long time, clinging to his anchor, lost in his own tears and fears. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything more after the few words. He just holds Lu Guang, a silent anchor in the storm. He lets him listen to his heartbeat, lets him feel his warmth, lets him know, without words, that he’s not alone. Eventually, the sobs subside, replaced by quiet sniffles. Lu Guang’s trembling starts to ease, and the suffocating weight on his chest begins to lift. He pulls back slightly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

He avoids Cheng Xiaoshi’s gaze, ashamed of his vulnerability, afraid of what he might see in the other’s eyes.

Pity? Disgust? Amusement? Lu Guang wouldn’t blame him for any of it.

But when he finally dares to look up, all Lu Guang sees is concern.

(And something else, something deeper, something he can’t quite name. Something he’s too afraid to name, lest he makes it real.)

“Better?” Cheng Xiaoshi asks softly, his voice laced with worry.

Lu Guang nods, unable to speak. He still feels raw, exposed, but he also feels weirdly lighter. As if he’s released something he’s been holding onto for too long.

Cheng Xiaoshi reaches out, gently brushing a stray strand of silvery hair from his face. His touch is light, hesitant, but it sends a shiver down Lu Guang’s spine.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks, auburn eyes searching misty grey.

Lu Guang hesitates. Part of him wants to tell Cheng Xiaoshi everything, to pour out all his fears and anxieties. But another part of him is terrified of burdening him, of scaring him away.

Finally, Lu Guang shakes his head, “No. It’s… not something I’m ready to talk about.”

Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t push him. He just nods, respecting Lu Guang’s boundaries. Cheng Xiaoshi knows him well enough to know when to push and when to back off. He stands up, pulling Lu Guang up with him.

“Come on. Let’s get you some water.”

Lu Guang lets Cheng Xiaoshi lead him to the kitchenette, the familiar routine a welcome distraction. He watches as the ravenhead fills a glass with water, his movements efficient and familiar. He hands Lu Guang the glass, Cheng Xiaoshi’s fingers brushing against his. He looks at Lu Guang, his eyes still filled with concern.

Lu Guang feels those eyes like a warm hearth on a cold day.

Thank you, he wants to say. Thank you for being here. Thank you for not judging me.

Thank you for just being you.

But the words still won’t come. So, Lu Guang just nods, takes a sip of water, and lets the silence fill the space between them. A comfortable silence this time. A silence filled with unspoken emotions. Lu Guang knows that things will never be quite the same after this—after everything he’s done. He’s shown Cheng Xiaoshi a part of himself he usually keeps hidden, a vulnerability he usually guards fiercely.

But maybe, just maybe, that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe it’s time to let Cheng Xiaoshi in. Maybe it’s time to stop being so afraid. Maybe one day, Lu Guang might actually believe these words.

Lu Guang looks at him again, really looks at Cheng Xiaoshi.

And this time, he sees something new in those bright, knowing eyes. He sees acceptance. He sees understanding. And he sees…something terrifyingly close to love? Lu Guang doesn’t know what the future holds. He doesn’t know if he can protect Cheng Xiaoshi from everything that’s coming. But he knows one thing for sure.

He’s not alone.

And that, for now, is enough.

fin.

[carolinahope]

10 ships and lyrics you associate with them

I borrowed this from @disasterpenguin

Buck + Eddie

Maddie & Tae - Strangers

How were we ever strangers? Seems crazy to me now Haven't I known you forever? 'Cause the thought of the days without You and all your love Have all but disappeared I'll never be convinced, baby, that you weren't always here How were we ever strangers?

Stiles + Derek

Reik- Creo en ti

Creo en ti Y en este amor Que me ha vuelto indestructible Que detuvo mi caída libre Creo en ti Y mi dolor se quedo kilómetros atrás Y mis fantasmas hoy por fin están en paz

Steve + Bucky

Maddie & Tae - Madness

Come what may, babe, hell or high If those stars fall from that sky Let it all come crashin', I'll be runnin' to you the fastest If these streets go up in flames If everybody goes insane I'll reach for you, you'll keep me safe 'Cause, baby, whatever happens If the world goes mad If it all goes bad If the world goes mad I'll love you through the madness

Magnus + Alec

Rascal Flatts - Love You Out Loud

You keep bringing out the free in me What you do to my heart just makes me melt And, I don't think I can resist But I've never been one to kiss and tell Our love this true, can't be subdued So I'm gonna let out a yell I'm gonna stand on a rooftop Climb up a mountaintop Baby, scream and shout

Kurt + Dave

Jon McLaughlin - So Close

A life goes by, romantic dreams must die So I bid mine goodbye and never knew So close was waiting, waiting here with you And now forever I know All that I want is to hold you so close So close to reaching that famous happy ending Almost believing this one's not pretend Now you're beside me, and look how far we've come So far we are so close

Danny + Steve

Ricky Martin - Tiburones

Vamos a cambiar de casa Vamos un mes de viaje Hablemos otro idioma Bésame aquí en la calle Por ti cruzo la tierra Lucho con mil leones Por ti hago lo que sea Nado con tiburones

Dean + Castiel

DVicio - Te debo

Tú sumándole a lo que yo tengo, aunque ya no estás Yo tratando de restar el tiempo y darte un poco más Te debo más noches frente el mar Te debo la foto en Central Park Prefiero dormir y sentir que te tengo más cerca Te debo reírnos sin parar Te debo bailar en cualquier bar Te debo decir que no hay nadie que llene tu ausencia Y aún sigo en deuda

Ian + Mickey

Dolly Parton - Never Not Love You

I will never not Light up when I see you I will never not Feel you through and through There are many things I may or may not do But I will never, never not love you

Mili + Ivo

Richard Marx - Right Here Waiting

Wherever you go, whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you

Henry + Alex

Ha*Ash - Quédate Conmigo

Quedate conmigo, en tus ojos me quiero encontrar, Llenarte de felicidad y junto a ti ganar. Quedate conmigo, vamos de la mano a caminar, Yo no te soltare jamas, volvamos a empezar. No es facil hoy dejar el miedo atras, Sentir nuestro amor, arriesgarnos de verdad, Mucho tiempo nos tomo llegar aqui, pero amarte es todo para mi. Y si me extrañas, abrazame mas fuerte, no digas nada, Tan solo ven y entregate, despiertame de esta locura.

[linnamonrolls0]

omg so i was on facetime with my mom and i was checking my email for something and when I tell you I was so excited to see an email from AO3 telling me you updated Suburban Ledgends.

I've literally been waiting for weeks for this and I love it so much ahhhhhhh.

also, i would literally die if Lin and Taylor did any collab lol. even if it's just one song

hiii! omg thank you for sticking with it & sorry for the wait! I’m so glad, & hope you enjoy the latest chapter 🥰 & feel free to yell at me if not, lmao

re: a Tay/Lin collab… YES PLS. my fangirl heart is manifesting the fuck out of that even if no-one else is 😅 for real tho, they’re both musical/lyrical masterminds & their combined genius would create the best song of all time, I’d scream that off the rooftops!

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Take Time with a Wounded Hand

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x gn!Reader

Writing Genre: story

Genres: angst, hurt/comfort from author

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: smoking, blood, death, murder, violence, graphic depictions of murder, angst, wounds, nudity for medical purposes, suggestive?, implied nsfw, explorations of grief, major character death | please do not read if you are not comfortable with the themes above

Notes: the title is totally not based off of a stone temple pilots lyric... Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fic! It was painful fun to write! :)

Read it on ao3!

~~~

You sat on the decaying steps of your dark house, a cigarette sitting loosely between your lips. The air around you bit and froze your skin through your thin clothes, but you no longer cared. A tranquil depression had taken over your life years ago, on a night like this when you sacrificed emotion. Your scarred right hand came into view as you lifted the cigarette from your lips, blowing out the smoke and looking up at the moon. Your young soul carried a desperation, a longing for a home. A home filled with people who would know you inside and out, just as you would know them. A makeshift palace filled with family. 

You once shared that vision with a young man. 

A man who named himself Sigma. 

You shivered as you recalled the past.

His head laying in the front of the dilapidated mansion you once called home. The despair that made its way through your veins, feeling electric as it passed through. His clouded grey eyes filled with questions, screaming why?, staring through your frantic face. His soft features tarnished by blood, his long hair chopped short. Soil in his mouth, now without a tongue. Stroking his cheeks and sobbing, you could see his cervical spine and carotid arteries, causing another sob to wrack your body. A large hand placed itself on your left shoulder, as the familiar figure of Nikolai plunged into the dead garden beside you. You set down Sigma’s head and placed your head in the crook of his neck as he cried with you. Fyodor stood to your right, a tear dripping down his face, eyes filled with pain and a longing for vengeance.

You sat alone after his death, seeking the comfort of a man who no longer existed. You often busied yourself with observing life, and feeling powerless to the world changing and moving on without you. Breathing became the hardest thing to do. It became much easier, though, when you felt the blood of those who captured, tortured, and killed Sigma run over your hands and decorate your face. Having their heads was an act of Fyodor’s vengeance, a mission which you gladly carried out. That night, he carefully cleaned the blood from your hands and thanked you for serving him.

Nikolai went next.

The climax of Fyodor’s plan had been underway for a year. You stood together on a rooftop, looking down at the chaos in the streets. The sound of a helicopter grew closer, prompting Nikolai to use his ability and move the two of you to an empty rail yard. Once you arrived however, he lifted his overcoat once more and told you, “Fly away, little bird.” as hordes of people gathered in front of him, most with various weapons. You arrived inside of an abandoned apartment with a clear view of the rail yard where Nikolai stood. As the people opened fire on him, he vanished. A moment later he winked at you and pulled two grenades out from behind his back, vanishing again from the crowd as the grenades exploded. Chunks and limbs of people flew, along with their weapons. Blood spattered everywhere, mixed with brain matter. Nikolai appeared in the rail yard again, as people began rising and impulsively moving to attack him. Within the next few minutes, though, every member of the crowd was dead. 

Relief fell over you as he sighed. You began to move away from the window before noticing a floating sword. An invisible ability user. You yelled his name, trying to warn him of the imminent danger, he had to know they were there. Another figure, visible and dressed in navy, came out in front of Nikolai; a distraction. The figure rapidly approached him; a high speed ability user. The minute you noticed him, you searched for and descended the stairs of the abandoned apartment building. You remained in the doorway, trying to figure out a way to hide from the invisible ability user. 

The speed user grabbed Nikolai by his face and slammed him into one of the train cars. He slammed his head into the car three more times before flinging him to a different rail track. As Nikolai stumbled up, he reached for his overcoat only to find nothing there. The invisible ability user had sliced it off. Shock passed over his features as you shoved down the urge to yell his name again. He needed to remain focused on the fight, and you would simply be a distraction. You inched yourself along the building, now slightly assured that the ability users were focused on their main target. You laid yourself on the ground by one of the exploded bodies and grabbed their machine gun. You saw Nikolai take a punch to the gut, causing you to fire the gun where the invisible ability user should still be. Watching the bullets stop, most likely in a body, you felt a twinge of satisfaction. You fired at the high speed ability user as he moved to come toward you. He dropped halfway to you, bleeding and stunned. With both ability users dead, you rose to walk over to Nikolai. 

He was on one knee, his breathing choppy and heavy. He looked up at you, his eyes carrying bittersweetness and irony. He knew he would die today. His choppy breathing was probably a rib poking at one of his lungs, about to impale it. You knelt down in front of him, bringing his forehead to yours, sitting in silence. He gargled as a dagger pierced his upper and lower torso. Your vision flew to the left as you felt a blunt, stinging kick hit you. Nikolai’s body fell down, while you only stumbled over, body in shock from the kick. A man stood above Nikolai’s body, holding the daggers he just impaled him with. He stabbed him two more times, once in the chest and once in his left eye. He screamed while you grabbed a large rock. The ‘assassin’ moved to stab you, but he only cut your left little finger off as you smashed the rock down on his head. He fell down and you crawled to continue bashing his head in.

You turned your attention back to Nikolai once you finished. Blood was seeping from his mouth as his right hand rested on his chest. You grabbed his left hand and removed his glove, holding it up to your heart. He turned to smile at you as the sun continued setting. You began to play with his hair, as you had done many times before. Tears made their way down your face as you cried, knowing his death was inevitable. Tears welled in his eye as well. 

“Be happy for me, Y/n. I’ll finally be free.”

You had no words, so you moved your left hand from his hair to his cheek, stroking it and rubbing away the tears. Your blood tainted his face, causing you to let out another sob at these unfortunate circumstances. First Sigma, now Nikolai, why? How were you supposed to keep following Fyodor’s plan when your family kept getting slaughtered?

He moved his hand to stroke your cheek as well. “Thank you for everything, dear friend. It’s been delightful to have you as a companion. I find such joy in your presence. Will you guide me to the heavens?”

“It would be my honor, Kolya.”

He smiled softly, and continued to stare into your eyes. An eagle flew above the two of you, cawing as it passed by.

“How lovely.” he whispered, before his hand became limp.

You sobbed, lifting and clutching his body to your chest. You were sniffling and rocking him when Fyodor arrived at the bloody scene, coming to take you and Nikolai’s body home.

–

You moved to the grass in your front yard, sitting and looking at the stars. You looked down for a moment, noticing the stub where you lost your finger. You smiled bitterly, and continued through your haze of remembrance.

It was a couple months after Nikolai’s death, when Fyodor’s plan was reaching its end. He had been gone for two weeks now, where or why you could no longer remember. Your cup of tea has long been cold. There was only one member of your family left, and you spent too much time in fear of when he would leave you too. You don’t know why you stayed with him after Nikolai’s death. Perhaps it was because he was the only one who understood, the only one who could give you the answers you needed. 

A deep bang at the front door shocked you out of your haze. You slowly rose, a dreadful feeling setting into your body. As you opened the front door, a blur of white, red, and black slumped into you. Two figures rushed out of your view and away from the rundown mansion. You pulled the figure that fell into you inside, slamming the door with your foot. As you looked at the outfit the figure was wearing, you immediately recognized who it was.

Panic set into your bones, but you forced yourself to carry and drag him upstairs. You laid him on his bed before running to grab water, bandages, stitching supplies, and various other first aid materials. Once you arrived back in his bedroom, you decided not to waste time and opted for cutting his clothes. Looking at his bare torso, almost all you could see was blood. You grabbed the towel you had brought with the water and quickly wiped down his torso. The blood was not completely gone, but it was now easier to see what you were doing. Threading the needle, you began suturing his worst wounds. He stirred after you finished, his eyes opening. They held a pathetic and stubborn look. He turned his head away from you a moment later, his eyes shutting as you continued with your ministrations. You removed his coat and shirt entirely now, focusing your attention on his arms and neck. No cut needed stitching there so you temporarily taped down gauze on his wounds. 

Moving to his legs, you removed his boots and cut open his pant legs to reveal deep gashes. Threading the needle once more, you sutured the gashes on his legs and taped gauze on his less serious cuts. You placed the materials back on his nightstand, grabbing a fresh towel to wet and wipe his face with. His bloody hair would have to wait. You grabbed his chin with your thumb and index finger to center his head. His eyes bore into you as you ran the cold, wet cloth along his bloodied cheeks. He sighed, accepting your touch.

You forced his half-limp body to sit up, causing Fyodor to grumble. You grabbed the roll of gauze bandages, and wrapped his torso, before letting him lay back down. You then wrapped parts of his arms and legs, to which he would occasionally huff. Once you were finished tending to his injuries, you gathered your supplies and left the room. Your body shook slightly, coming off of adrenaline and worry. As you entered his bedroom for the final time that night, you helped him drink from the glass of water you brought and lightly pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Entering your room, a flurry of emotions hit you. You had almost lost the last member of your family. The one who understood you to the fullest extent. That night you thanked Sigma and Nikolai for ensuring Fyodor remained alive.

–

The stars burned even brighter as you lit another cigarette. You blew out the smoke again and carried on with contemplating the past.

Fyodor’s recovery was a lengthy process, filled with ups and downs. You took care of him every step of the way, cleaning his hair and his body. Changing his bandages and eventually removing his stitches. Holding his hand and reading to him. Helping him drink water and eat until he gained enough strength to do it himself. Aiding him in walking. 

During his recovery, you became familiar with a side of Fyodor that no one had been able to see; his emotional side. The first time you met this side was when you heard his cries of regret in the night. Your features dropped as you continued to listen, opting to let him be. You never brought it up, but you suspected he knew you were listening. The next week he started sharing stories from his life, some trivial and some deep, but you appreciated them all, sharing stories of your own which he gladly listened to. Some nights you could hear each other cry, reliving the traumatic events of the last two and a half years.

A vulnerability grew between the two of you by the time you had been caring for him for a month. You had finished changing his bandages when he lifted his right hand to hold your cheek.

“Thank you.” he spoke, leaning closer to your figure and placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

You were momentarily shocked, but let him run his lips over yours once more before he leaned back to his seated position and dropped his hand from your cheek. He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

By the three month mark, he was able to eat, drink, and bathe on his own. While still needing you to accompany him when he stood or walked, he had made excellent progress. His smaller cuts were fully healed, although his gashes still had some time to go.

You had gone on an evening walk with him, trying to get him out of the house and in nature. When you had gotten back, he sat on the side of his bed and removed his ushanka. You sat next to him, removing your gloves and shivering with cold.

“I appreciate you, Y/n.” he said, turning his head toward you. “I always have. And now, through my recovery, you have continued to support me. I have never felt anything similar to the way I feel in your presence. Never in my life have I felt such vibrant emotion, and such enchanting stirrings in my heart.” he placed his hand on your knee and smiled. “I absolutely love you, Y/n.”

A smile found its way onto your slightly flushed face.

“I absolutely adore you, Fedya.” you spoke, cupping his cheek and kissing him. He cupped your cheek in return, moving his lips in time with yours. 

The night seemed to vanish as you remained solely focused on the only other person in the world who knew you inside and out, the same way you knew him.

–

The front door sounded shut as you heard Fyodor walk down the steps and toward your figure. He came to sit next to you in the grass in front of your new home, a dark blue blanket in hand. He placed the blanket over the two of you and you leaned your head on his shoulder. He welcomed the gesture, placing his right arm around your waist and lighting you another cigarette. The bright colors of dawn streamed through the sky, as the sun continued rising over the small city. The two of you stayed seated, conscience laden. Grief, despair, and sorrow were emotions that have plagued you your entire life while you searched for a home. Now they have begun turning into love and acceptance as you have finally found a home. A home in your Fedya, where he would always hold your wounded hand and you would always hold his wounded body.

- - - - - - - - - -

If you would like to read more of my Fyodor works, why don't you check out I Have Loved the Stars too Fondly to be Fearful of the Night?

If you're wanting to read another darker Fyodor fanfic, I would recommend my Hannibal!AU.

masterlists | upcoming works

[baroquebucky]

touch

soulmate au where when you touch your soulmate you see glimpses of your future with them; the winter soldier touches you and realizes there’s so much more out there

series masterlist // next

part one

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u all enjoy this !! i am a sucker for soulmate au’s <3 let me know what u guys think and if u guys want a part 2 !!!

Bucky awoke to the sound of the guards unlocking the door, the metal creaking as Alexander Pierce walked in, waving the guards off to leave the two alone.

“you have another mission today” the man spoke smoothly, bucky getting up from his small bed and staring at the man infront of him, “you need to finish this before it gets out of hand” pierce spoke, eyeing the soldier as he stared blankly ahead.

“Do you understand?” He questioned, bucky looked at him, nodding his head silently as the guards took him out, taking him to get ready for his mission.

He had stopped resisting, he had nothing left, he couldn’t remember much and he had no idea who he even was. Bucky followed the motions, suiting up and grabbing his weapons alongside the other HYDRA agents.

You frowned at steve and natasha, grumbling to yourself as Sam let you into the house.

“im y/n, sorry about these two” you smiled at the man, extending your hand out and turning to your two friends.

“thank you for coming y/n, we really need you” Steve spoke, natasha nodding in agreement as she dried her hair slowly.

“yeah, yeah everyone always needs me” you joked, sitting next to them and rubbing your eyes, “woke me up from my nap so this better be good” you spoke, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back.

Steve and natasha explained the situation, telling you what they knew about the winter soldier, you soaked in the information, attempting to google him but coming up with almost nothing.

“hm, so you want me to do what, exactly” you questioned, looking at the trio staring back at you.

“fight with us, help us, we have to stop HYDRA” Steve spoke, looking at natasha before continuing, “i don’t know who to trust and” he sighed, “we know we can trust you, are you in?”

You smiled, getting up and pulling the three in for a hug, sams eyes going wide.

“of course I’m in, i care about you guys too much to let you die alone” you chuckled, pulling away, looking at Sam before speaking up, “no ones dying by the way, right?”

The four of you were on the rooftop, getting information out of Sitwell, laughing when natasha kicked him off.

“What about that girl from accounting, Laura?” Natasha spoke, looking at Steve as he thought about the woman’s name.

“Lillian! Lip piercing right?” Natasha nodded and Steve shook his head.

“yeah I’m not ready for that” you laughed at the two lightly.

“you should get with the time have a little fun!” You teased, Natasha smiling as you sided with her, nodding her head excitedly.

As Sam brought Sitwell back you began the interrogation, threatening to throw the man off for good is he didn’t start talking. Your eyes were steely and they let you handle him, getting all the information you needed.

“i didn’t know you could be so-” sam stopped, trying to find the right words.

“evil?” Natasha offered.

“terrifying?” Steve chuckled and Sam nodded.

“Insight launched in 16 hours” you spoke up, checking your phone, Natasha nodded speaking up after you, “we’re cutting it kinda close here.”

Steve looked ahead with furrowed brows nodding his head, “well use him to bypass the DNA scans and bypass the helicarriers directly.”

Sitwell scoffed next to you, blabbering on about you something, you rolled your eyes, going to say something when someone reached through the window and threw him out, your eyes going wide.

“what the fuck!” You screeched, looking up and seeing who you assumed was the winter soldier.

Your eyes were wide as you stared out the windshield, a tug in your chest as you saw him sliding across the concrete, steadying himself with his metal arm.

Natasha pulled her gun out, aiming at the man. A car rear ended you, pushing you forward and knocking your wind out. The soldier jumped atop the car, holding on tight as the truck behind you pushed you all foward.

Sam pressed on the breaks, trying to steer away from the other cars. A metal hand reached through the windshield and tore the steering wheel out from his grasp.

“shit!” Sam yelled, eyes wide as the car drove into another, Natasha reaching her gun and shooting in hopes of hitting the masked man.

Steve grabbed onto the three in the front, looking back at you with wide eyes.

“go!” You yelled, scrambling to open the door before the car crashed into the wall.

“hang on!” Steve called, jumping out, with you bracing yourself for the impact seconds after, you flew out the door, hitting the ground with a thud.

You ran to join natasha and Sam, ducking behind cars to avoid the bullets, finally pulling out your pocket knife and hitting one of the men in the chest, running again as they shot at you three even more.

You and natasha jumped down, holding onto her as she shot something under the bridge to swing from.

The two of you landed safely, you pointed to the shadow of the solider, running alongside her to shoot at the man.

You both aimed and fired, hitting his giggled and causing him to turn back. You let out a sigh, hoping they would give you a minute to recover. You both ran for cover as he leaned back over, machine gun in hand and shooting wildly.

“fucks sake” you let out, breathless as you aimed to shoot back at him, running for cover once again, hiding behind the parked cars. Your eyes focusing on the bus steve had fallen into, relief flooding your body when you saw him jumping out and hiding behind the shield safely, eyes moving to the highway and seeing Sam shooting from above.

“I’m gonna leave this recording here, ill sneak up behind him and then you try and get him, we can double team him” Natasha spoke, you nodded, letting her record the memo before setting it down and running.

Your heart raced as you saw the soldier approach the vehicle, waiting for the right moment to strike. As Natasha ran to tackle him from behind you noticed the amount of people still around you, the explosion next to you sending people flying.

“shit” you mumbled, running to help them as Natasha held her own.

“get out of the way! Run! Get out of here” you yelled, pointing at those in frenzy to run in the opposite direction, you glanced over your shoulder, Natasha being thrown into a car.

As you turned to help her you noticed a little girl crying, alone. You debated for a second before running up to her, taking her in your arms and handing her off to some random adult who was fleeing.

Natasha had messed the man arm up, joining her in her sprint as you all yelled for people to move and to take cover. You heard the whirl of a bullet and natasha groan, doubling over next to a car.

“take of her!” Steve yelled, holding off the soldier. You let eyes were wide, putting pressure on Natasha wound and looking around.

“you’re gonna be fine” you told her, looking into the car and breaking the window with your elbow, opening the compartment in the passengers seat and smiling when you found a first aid kit.

“come on” you mumbled, moving her gently and cleaning the wound, doing your best with what little you had. You tried to bandage her, the sound of the bullets hitting Steve’s shield making your hands shake.

“go help them, I’ll be fine” Natasha groaned out, you hesitated before nodding, running to where Steve was.

You hid behind a car, watching as he shoved a knife into a van, barely missing Steve’s head.

You jumped from behind the car as Steve reached to grab his shield, hitting the metal armed man, you used your body weight to twist him back.

Visions flashed in your eyes, quick flashes of a man with a charming smile and beautiful blue eyes. The sound of laughter echoing in your ears as the mask fell besides you. You saw the two of you cuddled up on a couch, you saw two two of you watching a sunset while on a picnic, giggles falling from your mouth.

Bucky saw it too, his mind flashing with pictures of a life he didn’t recognize, seeing you, his mission in them. He saw you cuddled at his side, he saw you on a stage together singing with lyrics on a screen, he saw the two of you rescuing a white cat from the rain. Bucky saw you holding out a present for him, a bright smile on you face, he saw you throwing flour at him in a kitchen, cookies baking in an over.

He stayed on the ground, memories who he used to be flooding his mind, hope of who he could become clouding his judgement.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he looked up at you, standing in front of Steve with an equally shocked look on your face.

“it’s you” you breathed out, your heart tugging in your chest as your eyes met his blue ones, they were cloudy and they were broken but god, you already loved them.

“it’s you” he whispered. A year rolling down his face before HYDRA agents surrounded you all.

“Bucky?” Steve spoke, finally getting a good look at the man.

The super soldier stayed quiet, panic in his eyes and he looked at you, setting his weapon down. You made a move to run to him, but Sam flew in, knocking him feet away from you, Natasha soon launching a grenade.

“no!” You screamed, running to where he was. He was gone.

“No! Please i just found him no!” You cried, sinking to you knees, Sam ran over to you, holding you tightly as you sobbed, agents surrounding the four of you and telling you all to get down on your knees.

You sobbed into sams chest, only leaving his embrace when the agents ripped you from him.

Buckys eyes were wide as he sat in the chair, his heart racing as he recalled your face, your hair. He recalled the flashes he saw, his future with you.

He had something to hold onto, he had something to fight for, someone to survive for. He thought about the man who was next to you, he was familiar, he was in his old memories.

Buckys mind raced, knowing they would wipe his memories, he soaked in every last detail, praying he could hold onto to what he had after they wiped him.

He could hold onto you, his hope.

[thedisguisedaltruism]

fond stares, vast place, loud heartbeats

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, concert au

pairing: wonwoo/gn reader

summary: wonwoo hates the crowds, but he has to save up all his energy since you’re taking him as your concert buddy for taylor swift’s 1989 tour. little did he know, he will soon realize that he was actually in love with you, thanks to taylor and her wicked songwriting.

word count: 2,192

a/n: dumping this shit because too much feels for you are in love live :((

2015

“Wons, turn it up, turn it up!”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but snort from your excitement to see your longtime idol live. You worked hard to save enough so you could see Taylor Swift since then, and now you’re about to witness your turning point in life.

...together with your best friend, not to mention how he loathes crowds.

I Know Places is currently playing on the car stereo and you're warming up as you hit the high note in the chorus, dramatically pressing your chest with eyes shut. Wonwoo takes his final turn as you finally arrive at the stadium.

"Missed the note there, my friend." He teases. You could care less from his assed remarks because your mind's been in euphoria since you woke up from a power nap a few hours ago.

Outside the venue has already gathered a big crowd, and you patiently wait for your best friend who's double-checking the doors if they're surely closed.

Wonwoo has been your best friend for five years, and being grateful to have him is an understatement as he has witnessed your ups and downs in college. He knows that apart from your family and him, Taylor and her music has already played such a great role from adolescence until adulthood.

As a sucker for books, Wonwoo was undoubtedly impressed by Taylor's songwriting prowess since he listens to your discussions during the free time about the lyric analyses that you read across the internet, and you usually play her live performances whenever you pull off all-nighters that's why he agreed to be your concert buddy because he wants to see the person who could give rainbows to the person he likes.

Yes. The person he likes.

Wonwoo thought being in a Taylor Swift concert is not bad at all. It's like having a big crowd of best friends gathering in one huge place to have fun with their most talented best friend. Everyone's perfectly singing along to every lyric, breathing to each punctuation, and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Honestly speaking, he was having fun, and boy, he could sing along to a few songs while waving with his light-up bracelet. 

Aside from being fascinated by the live performances, he would sometimes steal glances at you, making him amused by your kaleidoscope of emotions you've shown from the past eight performances. Sometimes you'd turn to him just to sing while holding your chest, and go back to screaming how much you love Taylor Swift.

After the succeeding crowd-jumping performances, Taylor comes out with her black Gibson acoustic guitar to perform an acoustic version of her song just like the old days. The crowd has once again roared, and you scoot close to Wonwoo to whisper that Taylor's going to sing your favorite song from 1989.

He knows the story behind it. You told him on your graduating year at the rooftop of your college building while chugging an energy drink just to keep yourself awake from pulling off an all-nighter for your thesis, it was about Taylor’s known actress friend falling in love with her producer on this album—someone with the name Jack—if he could still guess correctly.

Taylor has already ascended for a clearer sight of crowds from the top seats, instructing everyone to sing back the specific words. Wonwoo watches you hugging yourself while craning your neck so you could see Taylor from above.

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Buttons on a coat

Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

  You and Wonwoo first met at the same elective during college freshman year. You were sitting near the door, sparing the next seat with your bag since someone from your class politely asked you to but unfortunately, she never came back and it was perfectly timed that Wonwoo immediately spotted the vacant seat beside you, exhausted from running before he gets late (yes, in a goddamn first day of class). 

  He learned that you’re taking up creative writing that’s why said elective was important for your course. He told you that he was taking up computer science, but he still needs to take the elective.

  ...and then, your friendship started.

  You have friends, but they’re few for your liking because socializing is exhausting. Wonwoo, on the other hand, despised being exhausted around people and that’s the reason why both of you became friends quickly. Reading was Wonwoo’s stress escape and yours was binge-watching k-dramas and reality shows.

  You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

  Since both of you chose to live in dormitories at college, sometimes you’d walk together around the university park late at night and talk about stuff happening in your life outside academics. One time, you told him how you’re pissed at your family’s insights about coming out since they happened to share once about how your cousin came out at a family gathering and the next moment, he was already in the hot seat. You told Wonwoo that you wished you were there to end all of your religious hypocrite relatives.

  Wonwoo, within the years of friendship, was never the type to initiate a conversation, but he’s an excellent listener. He could watch you talk about Taylor Swift, the perennial hate for your Major professor who’s academia-obsessed since she sets a standard too high for her liking while her class is on the brink of dropping out, and how you were fascinated about him staying up all night for computer games and still ace programming exams.

  Suddenly, the crowd started to roar out of the blue, making him shake his head from spacing out. Still standing, much to his surprise since he hates getting tired, he realized that he’s just watching you being helplessly in awe at Taylor Swift no matter how neck-stiffening it is, how your eyes sparkled with bliss just like the days when you talk with him about the things you love.

  And then he felt the pace of his heartbeat quickened.

  The crowd was already singing along with excitement—he has no idea what kind of reason it is—but he remains watching you like you were excruciatingly hard to reach, despite how you could hear his loud heartbeat if this was an empty place.

  One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says “You're my best friend”

And you knew what it was

He is in love

  You screamed you’re my best friend at the top of your lungs together with other sixty thousand people at Taylor despite how your best friend, who’s silently watching beside you, couldn’t calm himself down unnoticed.

  You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

  Suddenly, you turn to Wonwoo as Taylor does her guitar break before singing the bridge, and you were surprised to see him just staring at you instead of watching Taylor from up above and tell you how skilled she was at playing guitar. The way he’s looking at you wasn’t even judging, teasing, or the usual antics that he does.

  He’s just looking at you fondly and you thought maybe, he’s extremely happy that you get to see your longtime idol live after all these years and you deserved it so much.

  ...except that your tentative guess is incorrect.

  “She’s really good, isn’t she?” you yelled at him proudly while pointing at Taylor with emphasis.

  Your best friend could only nod and gesture at you to look back on your idol.

  And so it goes

You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round

And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words

  That made Wonwoo look up to Taylor Swift in an instant and judged her as he could so. As Taylor stopped, the crowd screamed once again, but nothing is deafening as his heartbeat while watching you cheer in chorus.

  He didn’t know if he should feel betrayed, because you were his partner during graduation ball and you were just having the best time of your lives because fuck it, despite being anxious about what’s to come after the graduation, both of you were so happy to have been able to survive despite the shit hole life your university has given.

  He also happened to frame a picture of you in his office peacefully sitting beside the stacks of scratch papers for software development. He secretly requested for its original copy at the official student publication of your university during that one major event as he saw it on Facebook.

  He realized that he’s in love with you after all this time.

  Much to his misfortune, you suddenly looked at him again and your eyes met that he couldn’t look away, but this time it was replaced with worry. You caught him twice, and knowing Wonwoo, he’s not usually vocal when it comes to express his discomfort.

  You gently hold Wonwoo’s hand. “Are you having a bad feeling? We could go out if you want to,” you whispered just audible enough for him to hear.

  And that’s how he lost it. 

  It took him another deep breath to sink in that you chose his well-being over your once-in-a-lifetime moment with your idol.

  Like… holy shit, he was so lucky to have you in his life and he thought this time, he wants to step out of his shell and gather the courage to tell you how much you mean to his life. He’s had enough secretly pining over you for years.

  But first, he wants you to be happy and enjoy your time with Taylor. He shakes his head no and holds your shoulders to turn to Taylor who’s now descending for the next performance.

                      “I can’t believe she’s real, what the hell, she was fucking real, Wonwoo.” you sighed. “Oh my god.”

  You couldn’t stop wiping your face after spacing out which made Wonwoo chuckle. After the concert and almost a painful hour of waiting to get out of the stadium, you mutually agreed to stop by the nearest convenience store.

  Although you only bought a coffee and went back inside Wonwoo’s car.

  “Me too.” Wonwoo whispers. That made you remember what happened during You Are In Love performance. You looked at him and tapped his shoulder.

  “You looked unwell this evening. Were you honestly okay, Wons?” you ask.

  He only blinked in response.

  It took Wonwoo a few seconds to gather up his courage. Now that it’s only the two of you alone, he thought he must let it out.

  “Yeah, I was just overwhelmed. You don’t have to worry.” he jokes, his attention remained at the store. He could see from his peripherals how your eyebrows furrowed, obviously not convinced enough by his excuse.

  “What you told me about Taylor the first time you introduced her to me was...true,” he sighed deeply. “She sings what we couldn’t put into words.”

  For someone like Wonwoo whose eloquence is something to look up to, you were confused by what he meant.

  Wonwoo turns to face you and takes your icy palms to wrap them with his large, slender, and warm ones. 

  “I love you.” He says, straightly looking into your eyes.

  Your eyes widen in surprise.

  “Please don’t joke around!” You hit his shoulder, but all he does is let out a burst of breathy laughter.

  But honestly, your heart skipped a beat after hearing his sudden confession.

  Tracing circles on your hand, Wonwoo smiles at your bewildered expression. “You were wondering if I was having a bad time? No, it’s all Taylor’s fault for making me confess to you tonight. That took me a long time I guess.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I love you and Taylor made me realize that I should confess before it gets too late.”

  You looked up at Wonwoo while pulling your hand from his gentle hold and laughed. It was unbelievable how both of you have been painfully oblivious despite being helplessly pining towards each other.

  It was your best friend’s turn to get puzzled so you took the time advantage to confess.

  “Idiot, I liked you too, ever since we first met.” sounding bashful, you looked away hoping that you didn’t sound like an idiot. So much irony for making fun of your best friend a few moments ago. “I have no idea that you felt deeper than I thought I have.”

  Even if you already knew how Wonwoo’s mind works for five years, he is always full of surprises.

  Or maybe he was so happy tonight that he kissed your hand and never let go of it as he started driving you home.

[all-my-love-for-harry]

u should do one for little shy boy where harry is on tour and is singing golden, his lil boy comes out on stage dancing, yn comes running after him yelling but they end up dancing all together 🥺

Hi! I had to change this request a little because i couldn't imagine our boy artemis, the epitome of shyness, running to the stage on his own but i still hope you like this!! also, let me know if the timeline confuses you, i'd be happy to answer any questions!

you can find more of my shy little boy here

December 19, 2019.

Harry had a concert in London tonight. It has been almost a week after his second album dropped, and he's been spending a lot of time doing promo for it.

Fortunately, both Artemis and Y/N were on their winter breaks and were able to join him. But as much as they loved traveling, it was good to be home again.

Tomorrow Artemis would celebrate his sixth birthday. A pretty fucking big deal if you asked Harry. This would be the first birthday he'd spend with his boy as his official daddy, and he wanted to make it as special as possible.

So he ordered the biggest cake he could find, asking the shop to make the cake in a shape of a robot.

Perhaps he was being a little bold, but lately he felt the need to shout it to the rooftops, he had a son, he was in love, he had a family of his own and wanted to show them off.

He told Y/N his plan to get her and Artemis onstage so everyone could sing happy birthday to their boy, and although she had her doubts, she couldn't overlook the way Harry's eyes lit up, his voice giving away how excited he was for it.

So she agreed.

Artemis isn't very acquainted with the whole concert world. The only concerts he's ever gone to are Harry's (oh, and to a Little Mix one because he's the biggest stan out there).

Gemma, Y/N, Artemis and Anne would be watching Harry from the side of the stage, he did not tell her when the staff would bring the cake onstage, claiming it would be a surprise.

Before he went onstage, he lifted Artemis and planted an obnoxious kiss on his cheek and off he went to entertain all the fans that came to see him.

The first few songs went smoothly. He'd occasionally would see from the corner of his eye how his mum would hold Artemis hand, swaying back and forth along with the music.

Halfway through the concert Harry stopped to talk for a moment. "So... tomorrow is a special day for me. you'll see, my boy turns six years old tomorrow" the crowd went wild, a mix between screams and 'aws'. "And i thought you could help me wish him a happy early birthday, what do you think?!" again, the room filled with screams, everyone letting out a collectively 'yes'

He turned his face to where his loves were standing and motioned for them to come onstage with him. Artemis looked up at Y/N with his eyes wide open, but she only smiled at him, nodding to make him know it was okay.

The three women let Artemis run towards Harry first, who as soon as he saw him run, kneeled down to receive him with his arms open.

The fans awed when Artemis much smaller body crashed into Harry's. He proceeded to lift him, balancing his microphone in one hand and his boy in the other. "Say hi, baby"

Artemis hesitated but still leaned towards the microphone. "Hi" as soon as his tiny voice filled the room, he hid his face in the crock of Harry's neck.

He then motioned again to his mum, sister and girlfriend to come as well. They walked on stage and, if it was even possible, the screams grew louder.

A crew member walked in strolling the cake on a little trolley. The mic caught Artemis little 'wow' and the fans laughed.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked the crowd. The band started to play the happy birthday song and everybody started singing.

When the song ended, Harry leaned his body over the cake so Artemis could blow the candles. The fans, the band and his family started clapping.

"So... this next song... is actually this lad's favorite from the album" He pointed at the boy in his arms. "What do you say all these lovely people here join us for it?" He asked, referring to the three woman on his left.

After a wave of sounds of approval came, he smiled. "This is adore you"

Harry placed his son on his feet but grabbed his hand right after. Y/N, Anne and Gemma were dancing on their places, singing the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

Surprisingly, Artemis was dancing too. Harry's presence has always given him confidence on himself, and he imagined as it was only his daddy and him dancing in the kitchen to his songs.

When the guitar solo reached, Harry crunched down to Artemis' level and started dancing with him. Artemis would try to copy Harry's hands and head movements, making everyone go wild because not only they were wearing matching suits, but they looked exactly the same while dancing.

Harry leaned his microphone towards his boy and he sang the little 'walk through fire for you, just let me adore you' before shying away.

After he sang the last lyrics, he pressed a kiss on Artemis' cheek.

As if the fans haven't received enough content yet, the microphone caught one last thing from Artemis...

'i love you daddy'

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep

@la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland

[isitovernowfromthevault]

ur tags.....if u ever want to share these thots abt the sw*ftie fandom, I promise I will reblog and scream your post on the rooftops. it’s the best tea there is

My thoughts are kind of a mess and they change as we see more and more internet creators speak out about the fucked up nature of parasocial relationships.

It basically goes like this: ever since her MySpace days, but particularly around the Secret Sessions and tumblr interactions, Taylor herself has basically functioned as a BNF (big name fan) within the fandom. For the longest time, BNF’s have been kind of a replacement creator inside the fandom. For example, you could never have an actual conversation with JKR (ew) and actually change her mind about what she was going to do with Harry Potter, but maybe you could get Cassandra Claire to become your friend and listen to you for suggestions on fanfiction. Or at least laugh at your jokes. And so fandom became an insular activity somewhat separated form the creator.

This barrier did not exist in swiftdom, because back when she was a teenager, Taylor realized that she was basically sharing her diary with her fans and she wanted to actually meet these people. And then swifties realized that, if they got lucky, they could get the actual creator to laugh at their jokes and even invite them to her house. So swiftdom never really developed outside the ever present Taylor, and, likewise, Taylor never really stopped trying to meet as many fans as possible. Neither side took the traditional role.

So of course this leads to a unique kind of insanity. On one hand, swiftdom has a very unique hierarchy defined by Taylor herself: secret sessioneers. Its undeniable that she approves of these fans AND they have access to special content, so they’re at the top. At the same time, these people suddenly have a huge amount of responsibility, they have to not spill the beans for starters, but they also end up with a huge audience, and now “policing” the fandom is kind of up to them as well. If you think its inappropriate to speculate on her romantic relationships, you may just yell at people and log off, or ignore the drama. But if you think its inappropriate AND Taylor follows you AND invited you to her house, then the least you can do is make sure tumblr is a safe place for her, so now you have to be very careful about how you talk about it. Fandom becomes a spectacle. Its all very fucked up, because of course she doesnt actually see everything thats going on, and its not really her duty to police everything everyone says in her name, but the fandom acts like it is.

Her solution as of this year seems to be to distance herself from fandom, which, while on the surface is the most sensible solution, does leave an entire fandom without the leader it used to have. (who also never functioned as a traditional leader but thats besides the point). Now you have the same homophobia and bigotry except without the classic “Taylor liked” that would put a stop to it, so thats a mess. I think its also important to remember that whatever Taylor liked or reblogged was interpreted by the fans. She was kind of an oracle that came in to say “oh I like that” and then everyone would be left scrambling to figure out what exactly she liked. Im still not sure how I feel about her leaving, or what exactly I think her responsibility to and inside the fandom is.

The whole ask blogs thing is a separate but somewhat related discussion: there are always going to be BNF’s thats just... human nature to create leaders I guess. It also leads to a lot of trouble. You have people trusting other people with their problems and life stories, because they want to be seen. But now you have blogs that receive dozens or hundreds of asks a day that are also forming parasocial relationships with their followers. Once again you have someone who cannot possibly be expected to deal with so many people on a personal level (and cant even if they wanted to-these are anons we’re talking about). And then you get, yet again, a hierarchy.

I think to condemn any sort of structure besides purely horizontal is to say you cannot have a fandom bigger than a dozen people and I dont think thats the solution. I think its ok to have gif makers, people that interpret lyrics, make masterposts, gossip, or even blogs that give advice. Its fine to have some BNF’s, and fandom really isnt fandom without them, but its also important to acknowledge that they can sour the entire experience because they have too much on them. Anyone can have a bad day and get snappy, and I think everyone needs to realize that you cannot depend on one big blog (or several) for your entire fandom experience. If a big blog, or even Taylor, has a bad day and yells at people (or calls them freaks) its not their fault if the entire fandom then goes down the gutter.

I dont really know, and my thoughts on the matter change every day. For example, I love Taylors Easter Eggs, and i dont think she should stop doing them, I think they can be a very healthy way of interacting with hardcore fans: its saying “this one is just for you guys”. But spend five minutes on Kaylor, or Haylor tumblr and you can see how these are spun wildly out of control to people looking for clues to a truth only they know. (not unlike QAnon).

I dont know, and if you have any thoughts on this please share them. Ive spent most of my life in one fandom or another and I do think Swiftdom has a uniqueness to it that comes from Taylors close interaction with it. Also, shes a mega popstar of truly gigantic proportions so maybe the fandom is just bigger than usual and gives more space for wild things.

[secretaryunpaid]

Prompt list I think its fluff number 20 “i’m not playing truth or dare.” can't wait to read 😘

Thank you for the ask, @pixie88 !!! 

(Giving myself a pep talk in advance, lol)

Hmmm... fluff... okay, you're gonna make me a fluff writer yet, lol... let's do this...

Pairing: Dahlia & Samuel Dalton

Rating: General

Word Count: 1615 approximately

It was going to be an exciting evening, or so she had hoped. Vivian came for the twins and it was just Sam and Dahlia for the weekend! Sam phoned to tell her to get dressed and that he was on his way home.

We all know where Dahlia's mind went... she was so excited she hurried to dress and put on some hype music to boost her energy... Feeling herself in her daisy yellow halter top and skorts, she did a little dance through the room., while lip syncing the lyrics to Wild Thoughts by Rihanna & Bryson Tiller... 

She enters the kitchen to prepare a charcuterie board and other ingredients, she figured on maybe some light eating and a movie in their private home theater room... but really not taking in the movie... She would invade his man cave, and he wouldn’t regret letting her in...

Looking down at the sound of her phone’s notification, she sees the message from Sam saying that he was in the parking garage and would be up soon. Her excitement builds, and she hurries to pour them drinks. Maybe they could finish the night with a rooftop swim... but she didn’t want to jump ahead of herself... she’d need to determine Sam’s energy level after his long hours of work.

She hears the elevator chime and rushes to greet him, handing him his first drink of the night. “Welcome home, baby... I’ve missed you!” Planting a soft kiss on her lips, he takes the drink before intertwining their fingers, leading her back inside.

“You’re in a great mood! And this yellow... Mhmm! Do a spin for me...” 

She spins slowly so that he can take in his eye’s content before teasing, “I thought we could play a little ‘Driving Miss Daisy” tonight... See what I did there? You know, cause I’m in yellow...” Realizing the insinuation has gone overhead, “Yellow... like daisies...”

Sam finally catches on, realizing that she isn’t asking him to chaufer her anywhere, but instead drive her in the way she enjoys most.

They reach the dining table where she has the charcuterie board set, and Sam kisses her temple, “You were really excited about this evening weren’t you? Looks like enough for everyone.”

Dahlia’s happy face turns puzzled... “Everybody? Isn’t ‘everybody’ already here?”

He kisses her again answering, “Well... I thought I would try something new tonight... so I invited a few guests over... for a game night.”

“Has someone snatched my real husband? Game night with guests? Color me very surprised!... But I got all cute for you, I set up the man cave for a movie night, thinking we could finish with a late night swim...”

“I’ll still have all the energy you need from me, but... “ He kisses her teasingly as he tickles her, “We’ll have company, and your plans sound like we need to wrap things up quickly... So we need to plan this just right... I’m not trying to disappoint my lady in any way.”

Before you even get started, “I’m not playing truth or dare.”

Sam chuckles, asking her why not. “Come on... how bad can it get? ... Don’t I know everything I need to know ... or every dark or dirty thing that you’ve ever done?”

Dahlia smiles through the question, internally screaming... He can never know the full truth... He wouldn’t want to ever lay eyes on me again... “Why not pictionary or even ... ugggh... monopoly?”

“What have you got against monopoly?,” he laughs.

“Only never being able to keep anything that I buy, and going to jail...it’s like that’s the only home that I get to keep!”

Sam laughs questioningly with a huff, “Home?... You’re referring to jail  as home?”

“Well... it takes FOR-ever to get out of... if I even do... so... Yeah!!!”

“Okay... so what can I do to convince you on “Truth or Dare”? Cause it’s one of my favorites other than “Never Have I Ever”... Oh, we could-”

“Oh, HELL NO! Not that game either,” she stresses, shaking her head adamantly...

His eyes alight with intrigue he pleads to have his way. “Please... I won’t make you run through Central Park in your birthday suit...” Kissing her neck, he laughs... “Just through the lobby, see ... easy.”

Playfully shoving him away, she laughs. “See, this is why! This is why I won’t play truth or dare with you!”

“Well, it’s game night... Those are my picks... Tell me yours and we will find a way to choose,” he says, coming up behind her, locking her in his embrace, figuring if he gets her ‘motivated’ she will let him have his way.

“Well...I do have some dirty dice... We could get a bucket of ice... I can...” Reaching to whisper against his ear, she teases of the many naughty things that could be done... IF... if he’d call off inviting the others, that is...

Robin and Jenny are coming over... plus, I invited a few more couples to come over...” Raising a brow as he confesses, Sam waits for Dahlia’s reaction. “Really !!!! This is so unlike you... It’s usually just us and the kids... and your mom occasionally ... What’s changed?... Wait... Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?,” giving Sam a sideways glance before grinning, her beautiful smile warming his heart.

“I started seeing a therapist again.”

Her expression sharply changed from playful to deeply concerned. Her heart sank, wondering if he was having second thoughts about their marriage, but felt he couldn’t talk to her about it... “A therapist ?!!!? But.. why?”

“I was starting to have panic attacks... I didn’t want to distract you from your “skinsulate” development and  trials. I know how important that has been to you. I’m proud that you are making such headway with it... I won’t take from that with my drama.”

“Is that the truth? It’s not... being married to me is it?” Hesitant to make eye contact, wringing her hands together, attempting to brace herself for heartache. “But you can always talk to me, love... about anything... I don’t judge or react unless you are confessing to cheating on me... then it’s an open forum other than that. You know me, Sam...,” peering into his eyes, searching for truth...

“Well, maybe we can {kiss}... talk {kiss}... more about it later {deeper kiss, his hands now probing under the hem of her skorts }... cause...” He begins to pull away, “Company has just arrived... I just heard the elevator chime...”

Heated and now left hanging, Dahlia groans in frustration, but pulls him back for a final kiss before he goes to greet them. “Husband... we are finishing this later!,” she calls after him.

Jenny comes in first, making her way to Dahlia, hugging her tightly before leaning to wave the bottle of Duce, “Let’s start this game night right! Where are the glasses?” 

  Next Robin comes in, followed by the other couples... He teases Sam, “You must be a fool in love... the great recluse is now hosting game nights in his home ???” Then his eyes land on Jenny, who immediately blushes at the memory of their wild night together.

The other couples show off the things they brought for tonight, asking which games they’ll be playing collectively, sounding like a room of overly excited grade school children. Robin exclaims confidently, “Truth or Dare... All night, baby !!!”

The group shows mixed emotions, but the majority sing out together,

“I’m not playing truth or dare!”

Each in turn explaining the awful dares and mind blowing truths revealed in past games, as Dahlia and Jenny finally join them with a tray of drinks for everyone. “What’d we miss?,” she asks as she introduces herself to the couples she doesn’t know. 

Robin reminds Sam of the dare he had from a time they played before... He had to rap his infomercial for their upcoming project... Mason, Sr was pissed, because it was being recorded live...

Sam rubs the memory and embarrassment from his face although the can’t help but laugh over the expression on their parent’s faces ... along with key investors for the project.. “I wasn’t going to let you hold that over my head Robin... I had to do it! It took me weeks of apologies and ass kissing to fix that  situation... And it even forced me to ... ahem... perform outside of the norm...”

Robin continues to blast Sam’s dares, telling of the he dared Sam to wear a disguise and pretend to be an assistance of Robin’s that had Tourette Syndrome, constantly blurting out “R-R-Robin’s the the the the ... Eeek!(high pitched) M-Man!” Everyone turns to Sam before snapping their heads back to Robin, who simply throws his hands up. 

“No disrespect to the disabled... just knocking Sammy down a peg or two or fifty,” he laughs,”Being Mr. Perfect and “can do no wrong” in everyone’s eyes...he deserved it... Can’t handle the consequence, don’t play the game...,” he says callously, shrugging through his continued laughter. “Show ‘em the tick Sam... go ahead!” Robin is near breathless and in tears...

Dahlia swats Sam’s shoulder, shocked that he would do such a thing. “Yet, you still insist on this for game night?... Oh, I didn’t miss the first dare mentioned either... we will be discussing those performances later once everyone has left, Mr. Dalton,” she smirks knowingly.

Robin finally yells over, “So Dahlia... We’re playing-”

“I’m not playing Truth or Dare! Pack it in Robin!!! ” 

Everyone laughs, and continues discussing what will be played while eating, enjoying the hell out of the stories told and taunting each other. Dahlia makes her way over to Sam, whispering softly against his ear, “Still not playing, but ... I dare you to slip off for a quickie to hold me over til later!”

“Umm, guys, I think we ran out of ... ICE, we’ll be right back!,” Sam yells out to the group as he’s dragging Dahlia from the room. Everyone looks puzzled, except for Jenny and Robin, looking towards the large tub of ice on the table next to the bottles of champagne. 

Robin makes his way over to stand next to Jenny, giving her a smoldering look before asking, “Truth or Dare?” ...

~~~~~ @pixie88, It’s not smut, but... ~~~~~

I just may learn this fluff writing thing, yet...

[kyber-kisses]

Hymn (Part 1)

Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader (platonic)

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do?

Warnings: spn level gore, cursing, angst. John Winchester being a terrible father.

A/n: thought I might try something a little different from what I usually write. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy! I based this on the song Hymn by Joel Porter and the lyrics will be in each chapter! (I highly recommend giving it a listen!)

You were gonna kill him. God, that man was getting on your last nerve. John Winchester ever the terrible father. Adjusting the strap of your rifle, you pulled back the moth eaten curtain ever so slightly, peering out into the darkness. The only light came from the buzzing neon sign of the otherwise empty motel, the bright blues and reds flickering as if they were at the end of their life.

The stories told are all we know

Exchanged in truth and word

The photographs are quilted paths

From places we've outgrown

“Y/N, when is dad gonna be back?”

“I’m not sure, Sam.” Turning to look over your shoulder, you gave the young eight year old a soft smile. “Just keep doing your homework.”

“But I don’t wanna. It’s boring.”

“Well too bad mister. You gotta.” Leaning across the small table, you ruffled his hair- only for him to bat your hand away.

“But what about Dean?”

“I’m helping Y/N guard the door.” Dean piped up from his spot on the other side of you, his chin resting on the windowsill as he watched two raindrops race down the pane of glass.

“Yeah, nice try there Bub.” Shifting the strap on your should once again, you turned Deans head towards Sam, nudging him out of his chair. “You sir should be helping your brother with his homework.”

The freckled twelve year old let out a groan before sliding out of his seat and walking around the table towards his brother. “This is bullshit-“

“Woah hey! Language! Just because dad curses like a sailor does not mean you get a free pass to do so.”

“. . .Sorry.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” You nodded, leaning your weight against the wall as you peered out the window once more. He should have been back by now. Whatever he was hunting was holding him up. If anything happened here all you had to keep the boys safe was your hunting rifle- nothing else except a damn knife. once again: John Winchester, ever the terrible father.

We carry with the friends we make

The hearts we mend and break

I see it in another way

All lives that we have changed

Rolling your shoulders you could feel the rifle resting against your back, the feeling similar to the way your mothers hand had when you were small and afraid. Taking another deep breath you pulled your fingers into the sleeves of your canvas barn coat in an attempt to keep warm. The heating in the room sucked and you had relinquished all your other coats to the boys to keep them warm.

“Y/N, why can’t you help Sam? You’re way smarter than me.”

“Oh why thank you, Dean.” You grinned, eyes still trained on the empty parking lot. You knew what that little minx was trying to do. “But your flattery isn’t gonna get you out of the task.”

You heard another groan from behind you, before a light thunk as Dean hit his head on the table. “This. thunk  Is. thunk  So. thunk  Dumb.”

A light laugh of amusement bubbled up from your lips as you looked over your shoulder. “You keep doing that and your aim isn’t gonna be so straight anymore.”

At that Dean stopped, lifting his head from the table to glare at you. “You’re not so straight- anymore-“ he tried, his failure at a comeback amusing you all the more.

“Wow, great comeback right there. Really, I’m proud.”

Deans eyes narrowed as he pushed back the work he was helping Sam with, before popping up to stand on the creaky old chair.

“Dean! My work!” Sam let out a whine as he tried to gather the papers.

“You wanna go?!”

A wicked grin spread across your face as you slid off the rifle and set it on the table, beckoning him with your hands to try and come at you. “Bring it Bub, let see if you can really tackle your sister to the ground.”

In that moment you swore the freckled rascal became a blur, launching himself across the table at you with a playful yell as he barreled into you. But unfortunately for him he was half your size and you were stronger. Your arms locked around him and you were quickly throwing him over your shoulder, locking him in place as he tried to squirm free.

“Wow, I thought you were actually gonna do it this time. I’m a little disappointed.” You joked, walking across the room to deposit him on one of the beds.

“It’s not a fair fight! You’re sixteen! You’re supposed to let me win!”

“It’s not a fair fight-“ you mimicked his whine before dropping your shoulders, hands on your hips. “If I let you win how are you gonna get better, huh?”

Dean was silent, eyes narrowing as he watched you turn to head back to Sam. . . But you didn’t get far before he lunged at you again, locking onto your back and pulling you backwards and onto the mattress.

“Hah! How bout that?”

“How bout that? Alright, you asked for it-“ you quickly flipped, pinning your brother to the bed as you pinched his sides. A shriek of laughter echoing around the room.

“Tickling?! That’s playing dirty!”

“Oh is it? Not in my rule book-“

The both of you were too engrossed in your tickle war that you didn’t hear the scrape of a chair across the linoleum floors or the sound of small feet running across the room towards you, and suddenly you were being crushed by another flannel clad boy, the sudden weight making you fall back agasint the mattress,both brothers climbing on top of you.

I must go alone

Cause I need you there

So my memory of home is full

“Sam!”

“You were having fun without me.” He gave you a sad pout, his eyes big and bright.

“Alright, I’m sorry. . . But did you guys have to dog pile me?” You wheezed, trying to squirm free only for Dean to lay down completely on top of you, Sam right behind him as they both grinned.

“Yes!”

“Oh, you little bastards-“ you grinned once more, trying to wrench your arms free to tickle them into submission. But the playful tone of it all quickly ceased when a ear shattering shriek seeped through the cracks of the motel door, freezing all of you in place as you looked up, suddenly alert.

“What was that?”

“Y/N-“ Sam let out a small whimper, suddenly curling into your side as you sat upright, Dean resting on his knees besides you.

“Shhh, I need you both to be quiet alright?” You spoke softly, sliding of the bed and onto the ground, your movements almost completely silent as you worked your way across the room and grabbed your rifle. “Stay behind me.”

A moment or two of complete silence fell over the three of you before another shriek echoed from beyond the thin walls of the motel making you jump.

Someone was out there. Someone needed help.

Quickly spinning around, you knelt down in front of Dean before passing over your shotgun. “You know how to shoot this right?”

“No! Dad still has me practicing with the BB shotgun you got me for my birthday-“ the slight waver in Deans voice making your heart break.

“Well, it’s the same basic concept.” You breathed, helping him adjust the weapon in his arms.

“Y/N! You can’t leave us here.”

Not trying to take my time away

Replace the old with new

My prison with my reasons right

Till I come back to you

“Dean, somebody might need my help. I need you to stay here and keep Sam and yourself safe okay?”

For a moment there was silence but then Dean nodded, “o-okay.”

“Alright, now you’re gonna wanna lean right into that stock.” You sighed, turning your attention back to the gun in Deans hands. “Cause it’s gonna kick a hell of a lot more than any BB rifle. Okay, go ahead and pull the bolt back. Grab it right here. Just tug it. There you go.” You nodded, watching as Dean did what you told him to. “Now, as soon as you fire your gonna want to get another round in there quick.” You added, popping back up on your heels as you reached for your knife that had been sitting idly by on the side table. You only made it a step to the door before you heard them both call out again.

“Y/N, we should wait for dad-“ Sam peered around Deans shoulder, eyes now big and worried. They both looked so afraid- god, it broke your heart.

“I know, Sammy- but there are people out there that might need help.” You knelt down once more, finding it easier to speak to them at eye level. “Now, listen to me. If I get into trouble out there, you make every shot count, yeah?”

“I got this.” Dean nodded, his sudden face of determination make you smile lightly.

“I know you do.” Leaning forward you quickly placed a kiss on top of both of their heads before popping back onto your feet. “Be brave, I’ll be back.” And then you were reaching out and twisting the door knob, your feet quickly carrying you over the threshold as you slammed the door shut behind you and disappeared into the dark, leaving the two brothers behind, Dean pointing the barrel of your gun at the door.

He was ready. If you could be brave, so could he.

A minute passed, and then another. . . And another. And with each passing second they both grew more worried. They wanted you back here with them. They wanted to know you were safe.

It was around the five minute mark of you being gone that another scream split through the silence, making the hairs on the back of Deans neck stand on end, and Sams grip on his arm tighten.

“Dean, that sounded like-“

“Y/N-“ eyes now blown with fear, Dean partially let go off your rifle, as he bounded towards the door- throwing it open full force. The downpour outside drenching him almost instantly as he raced out onto the front steps, Sam in tow.

“Y/N! Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!” Panic seeping into the marrow of his bones when he was only met with an empty parking lot.

“Y/N!”

But no answer came. The only sounds now came from the rain as it beat down against the rooftops and pavement, the occasional clap of thunder making both boys flinch.

“Y/N!”

Now I must go alone

Cause I need you there

So my memory of home is full

Read part 2 HERE

SPN Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro​​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​ @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​​ @callmekda​​ @jordangdelacruz​ @orphiceseum​​ @andthatsmyworld​ @marvelfangirllll​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​ @gladiosamicitias​ @castielsangelsx​ @lxstgxrl-ck​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​​ @underthewrap​ @totallyluciferr​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @dolanfivsosxox​​@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​ @akshi8278​ @defenderrosetyler​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @idksupernatural​​ @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @beanie-beebo​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​ @greenarrowhead​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​ @brebolin​ @biahblue​

[reinahwanggg]

𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒥𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔𝑔𝓊𝓀

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

               𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

⇸ i feel like he’s someone who wouldn’t wanna confess.

⇸ like, he’s so content with just watching you from afar.

⇸ how you love the little things, capturing the world with your camera.

⇸ he practically joined photography for you. came for y/n, stayed for the fun.

⇸ it was purely an accidental confession.

⇸ you know those stupid ones where the main character is staring at their crush and blurt out how ethereal they looked?

⇸ that was gguk but like, not in a whisper. 

⇸ poor boy yelled out your name and how much he loved you after he saw you laughing with your friends during photography.

⇸ he had the whole class staring at him, including you, and he wanted to D I E

⇸ dude basically screamed out that he wished he had the privilege to marry your laugh. that’s lit rally embarrassing luv. 

⇸ after class, you stayed behind and walked up to him. (lol, ᶦⁿᶦᵗᶦᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳᵉ) 

⇸ dude felt like shitting his pants. you were much prettier up close. you smiled at him, a bit too wide and stuttered out that you wanted to marry his voice.

⇸ dude panicked and said “why don’t we just marry each other?” and he probably did shit his pants that day, who knows? 

⇸ you smiled, and jokingly you told him “bring me an engagement ring, and i’ll think about it.”

⇸ bright and early the next morning, he handed you a small box and ran out of the classroom. 

⇸ cutest confession ever.

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

              𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

⇸ jeongguk was obviously so eager to do everything with you, hold your hand, hug you, take you out on dates, just, anything he can do with and for you.

⇸ hugest simp on the block.

⇸ would literally bend over backwards just to see you smile.

⇸ you, being the lover of little things that you are, would always fix his collar, file his nails, get him banana milk when he steps on campus after long hours of editing. make him breakfast. fiddle with his hair, take pictures of him from a distance to create that weird silhouette effect thing.

⇸ unintentionally, in terms of skinship, it went hella slow.

⇸ you guys didn’t hold hands until a month and a half in, when he wanted you to stay close to him during the annual club fair.

⇸ you didn’t hug until a week afterwards, when he was leaving to go back to Busan for the break.

⇸ and you didn’t even hug as much afterwards. you guys would just stare at each other, so content, yet a feeling, a yearning for the other’s touch was evident in your eyes.

⇸ you guys would go on weekly dates. study dates, picnics, amusement park dates, aquarium dates, park dates, movie dates, every week, there was always something different, and you loved the adventurous side of gguk.

⇸ three months into the relationship, and he took you to the rooftop of one of the buildings.

⇸ it was a stargazing date this week.

⇸ gguk sang songs and you took pictures, scribbling down lyrics, and doodling as you pleased, telescope here, waiting to be used by someone other than namjoon from the astronomy club.

⇸ you were so focused on your doodles, that you practically tuned out everything around you. you hummed a song gguk would always sing while he's around you as you doodled.

⇸ didn't even notice when he stopped singing and just started to stare at you.

⇸ ask this dude what his favorite hobby is, and he'll deadass say looking at you.

⇸ the moon, coincidentally, was shining brightly that day, and the moonlight made your face glow, the side profile in which he stared at looked so much more perfect to him.

⇸ i swear, either this boy has no control over his mouth, or he's constantly shouting in his head, because he yelled out his thoughts, A G A I N

⇸ you immediately stopped your doodles, looking up at him, eyes wide, probably blushing, who knows? all you know, is that you're surprised. he wants to kiss you.

⇸ fucking F I N A L LY. like omg, you don't know how much more hints you had to throw at him, because he sure is dense sometimes.

⇸ a N Y W A Y S

⇸ you rest your book down, automatically getting up to walk towards him. and he's just staring at you man.

⇸ at this point, the both of you said fuck them stars, cause all the constellations in his honey irises looks like the perfect view, and you stuff that image in your mind to draw that because W H E T

⇸ as soon as you reach to him, bITCH you wasted no time at all. you grab him by the chin and softly place your lips on his, and like mAGIC it happened.

⇸ your lips molded together, with the satisfaction of finally finishing a a puzzle. the joy of watching the array of colors explode in the sky from the fireworks that held them captive. the relief of watching a flower fully bloom. the feeling of now entering a field on a farm, as you stare at the cloudless sky, and a gentle breeze waltz around with the trees.

⇸ you could practically taste the cherry lip balm you would often restock on whenever it did finish from his lips, and you immediately indulge in the warmth that engulfs you as he kisses you back.

⇸ in all honesty, you don't know how long it went on for. when he gripped you by the waist, or when he pulled you down on his lap. even when your fingers moved from his and wove together to the back of his neck, as you both deepened into the intoxication of each other.

⇸ sooner or later, though, you had to grasp onto the feeling of the air, and your lungs pleaded to be filled by its addiction.

⇸ your skinship after that, did change, not drastically, but it did.

⇸ life was fun now, and dating jeongguk was probably the best decision ever.

okay, am i blind or does it look like gguk has on braces ? aksnejsjansn lol

hope you guys enjoyed this. i had another version of this written, but it didn't FLIPPING SAVE.

glad it didn't though, because i honestly like this one better.

[forestfireboy]

Oh i do think it would be oh so lovley if a pretty boy was to hold my hand and lead me to an abandoned roof top carpark where we sit on a checkered blanket he stole from his elderly auntie’s linen closet. We would drink cheap wine and eat cold pastries and cheese sandwiches and grapes and berries with honey and paint each others nails black and smoke cigarettes, sneaking sly kisses in between the smoke rings and we would take polaroids of our feet dangling over the edge, the lights of the cars below us shining like stars. We would leave notes in the pages of each others battered notebooks and run across the carpark screaming the lyrics to the songs that saved our lives as the sun gently sets. If i get cold he would share his jacket with me and i would rest my head on his shoulder. We would be content on that rooftop. Sharing stories from our childhood that make us giggle until it gets too dark to dance anymore so he walks me home, our shoes dragging on the tarmac, neither one of us wanting to leave the other. Until, until, we reach my door and he kisses me goodnight, so gentle. One, twice, on the lips, and then again on the cheek. ‘Goodnight my darling !! I love you my beautiful boy !! Until next time mon amour !!’ He would yell as he ran down the street, afraid to miss his curfew, and i would walk inside my home and wrap myself up in bed, giddy with love and dizzy from all the smoke and cheap vodka.

[novannna]

I Dare You

based on a pin I saw on pinterest where i use a song and write a story sing every single word. I used I Dare You by Bea Miller to write this fic. 

here's the song (:

It takes place mid supernova, when Nova has Danna caught in a jar. She struggles with her guilt for trapping Danna, and questions her loyalties to the Anarchists. This was a bitch to write bc trying to fit lyrics in order is a pain, so please leave likes and reblog!

Wc: 3440

Nova rubbed her eyes, collapsing onto the bed in her and Honey’s room.  She groaned, kicked off her shoes and fell backward.  

She was so fucking tired of the anarchists.  She knew that they had done so much for her, but they expected too much.  And she was exhausted.  They wanted her to keep the charade up with the Renegades.  

And she hated it.  She hated having to pretend to love Adrian.  She hated having to spend every single second of her day with Adrian, Oscar, and Ruby, getting as close as she could when, in the end she knew she would betray them.  

And that was going to make her feel miserable.  Even more miserable then she already was.  

A flutter of black and orange caught her eye, and Nova pulled herself up.  

In her moment of self pitying, she had completely forgotten about her butterfly friend.  

That was another thing weighing heavy on her consciousness.   

She walked over to the vanity, and picked up the small jar.  

“I can remember a time when I was so afraid,” she said to Danna, “maybe the first time I ever felt real, true fear.  A man entered my apartment.  He killed my mom and dad right in front of me.  He killed my sister,” she said with a small sob.  “I couldn’t save her.  But maybe… maybe if I had tried harder I could have.  That was the first time I felt fear.  When I went to a place even my shadow wouldn’t follow me.” 

Nova slumped down to the floor, and cradled the jar to her chest.  “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”  Nova groaned.  “I’m a fucking mess.  But I feel like I can talk to you.  Is that weird?”  She laughed, and shook her head.  “I don’t even know if you can hear me.”    She looked at the butterfly.  It was still for the first time in days.  It seemed as if it was looking straight at Nova.  She groaned again.  “I’m sick of being a tool.  I’m sick of being just another step in my uncle’s plan.  But they are my family, and I have to help.  Don’t I?”

Danna barreled into the wall, then flapped her wings adamantly.  

Nova breathed in deeply.  “I’m so sorry Danna.  I can’t imagine what it must be like in there for you. I- I would hate it.  I’m sorry for being an anarchist.  I know you wanted to believe in me.”  

“Nova!”  Honey’s shrill voice yelled.  “Get your ass down here!  We need you!”

Nova grimaced.  “I guess I’m picking up my sword.  Thanks for listening, Danna.  You actually helped me a lot.”  She set the jar back on the vanity, and scattered a few pins over it, making it look like nothing had been disturbed. 

And she was struck by an urge to shatter the jar.  Let all the pieces scatter, and let Danna free.  Then Danna could go tell the Renegades.  

And Nova could stop pretending.  

She could go back to the person she was before.  Before she met Adrian, and Oscar, and Ruby.  Before she met Danna.

---

“Nova sweetie, what took so long?”  Honey asked.  She dipped her finger into a jar of honey, and lazily stirred it around.  

Nova ignored her, and sat down around the table.  “I thought we were done.  What else do you need?”  She was in a bad mood.  A very bad mood.  She couldn’t handle Honey and the others right now.  

“So snappy,” Honey sniffed.  “I thought you wanted to get back at the renegades for killing your family.  

“I- of course I do!”  Nova said, annoyed.  

“Well you're certainly not acting like it.  I’m beginning to think you’d rather be with that Everhart boy than us.”

Nova sighed.  “Honey, I would never choose Adrian over my family.  His parents basically killed them.  I am one hundred percent committed.”

“Good.”  

Leroy cleared his throat.  “The window of time to rescue Ace is closing.  We have to act soon.  So, we need you to figure out whatever you possibly can about Cragmoor.”

Nova sighed.  “You want me to go talk to Adrian.”

They both nodded.  “Sorry Nova, I know you just got home.”

“Listen, I want to rescue Ace as much as you guys do, believe me.  But give me a break.  ‘Cause I… I- .”  Nova took a deep breath in, and out.  “I’m worth fighting for too.”  Honey started, and stared at her in complete shock.  “Just for… for..”  nova sighed and stared them straight in the eyes.  “For once in my life, give me a break.  Yes, I know what the Renegades did.  But don’t play innocent.  I know you’ve manipulated me my entire life.  And I let it happen.  So just… leave me alone tonight.  I have a lot to think about.  We can overthrow the Renegades tomorrow, alright?”  

Before Honey could respond, Nova stormed upstairs.  She threw the window open, and was half-way out before a thought crossed her mind.  She ducked back in and put the small jar with the golden butterfly into her pocket.  

She pulled herself to the roof, and leapt off.  She bounded across the rooftops, until she had reached an old office.  She scaled to the roof, and pulled the jar out of her pocket.  

“So they can put me in a cage,” she muttered to herself.  “Lock me in a room and throw away the key.  But they get mad at me when I try to stand up for myself.”  She flipped onto her back, and looked at the setting sun.  The sky was alight with colors.  

“I know you hate me,” she said to the butterfly.  “I’ve done terrible things.  I hurt you.  But I’m not sorry for what I did.”  Nove realized she had started to cry.  “I dare you to do something else if you had been in my place.”  

She sniffed, and wiped her tears away.  “I’ll break down the walls trying to keep me down.  I’ll be a higher wrecking ball then the Renegades.  I’m gonna hurt them the way they hurt me.  And I won’t let them tear me down.”  No.  Oh, Nova would never let them win. Oh, she would never let that happen.  They could lock her away at Cragmoor, and throw away the key, but Nova would never stop fighting.

“Danna, I dare you to spend a day in my shoes.  Oh, someone like you?  So used to freedom and choices?  Oh, you wouldn’t last a day.  And I won't let you tear me down.  No, the Renegades will never best me.”  Nova wiped her face again.  

She looked at the small insect.  

“At least I know the Renegades are bad. The anarchists…”  Nova sighed.  “They pretend they're so much better, but I know they’re just using me.  They don’t actually care about me, just what I can do. I had an opinion, but I never spoke my mind, and I wouldn’t argue, even when I knew I was right.  I was too fucking scared of what would happen.  What Honey might do.  But I’m not that girl anymore.  I can stand up for myself.  I can say what I want now.”  The sun had now fully set, and a speckling of stars covered the sky.  

Yeah, Nova had lost almost every battle against Honey and the other Anarchists.  She never won an argument so she had stopped trying.  But she was determined to win the war.

“I’m worth fighting for, Danna.  For- for years of my life, I watched the Renegades abuse me and the Anarchists.  And I know that you and Adrian, and the others want me to be good and do the right thing, but that's not gonna happen.  I’m not changing who I am because it’ll get me farther in life.  So if the Renegades do end up winning, you can put me in a cage, you can lock me in a room and throw away the keys.”  She leapt to her feet, and strode around, her mind too crowded to enjoy the starry sky.  

“In fact I dare you.  I dare you to lock me away, because I’ll break down the walls.  I will be a higher wrecking ball.  And I won’t let you tear me down, no.”  She breathed out heavily.  “But I am sick of this guilt I have.  Sick of convincing myself I’m doing what needs to be done.  I’m fucking sick of having to see you every day, just to be struck by another wave of guilt at seeing you trapped because of me.  I’m so sick of being confused and torn between everything.”  Nova scooped the jar up, off the ground and held it to her chest.  

“I want to throw away the key to my heart,  make it so I can never open it.  So no one can ever open it.  I don’t ever want to give anyone power over me again.  Look at what it’s fucking doing to me!”  She sobbed, to the butterfly.  “I dare you to go to the Renegades.  Bring them here, let them catch me.”  Nova turned to the edge and screamed, “I am done being the double agent!  I am fucking done!”  But no one responded.  No one cared.  Who would?  

“I won’t let you tear me down?  No what a fucking joke.  Danna, you’ve already torn me apart.  With guilt.  With your hate.  With the knowledge that when you’re human again, you'll hate me!”  Nova collapsed back onto the hard roof.  

“I just keep running, running, running.  Trying to find my place in the world, and it always ends back at good vs. evil.  Villain vs. hero. Just like you and me.  Monarch vs. Nightmare,” Nova spat, still crying.  “I’m still fucking trying to find who I was.  Am.  I don’t know.  I would go the distance to find out, but it’s never far enough.”

She held the jar up to eye level, and looked at the delicate golden insect.  

Nova knew exactly what she wanted, but she knew that would never happen.  She knew what she wanted for once.  Yes, she wanted to destroy the Renegades for what they did to her and her family.  Yes, she wanted to tell the Anarchists that she was done being their tool.  Yes, she wanted to save Ace from his fast approaching death.  Yes, she wanted to have it all be over.  

But in that moment, the one thing she wanted, wanted more than anything was to see Danna right in front of her.  To stop that constant guilt from devouring her.  It might mean the end of her freedom, but it was worth it.  To see Danna one more time.  

“But now, Danna, I'm standing straight and I think I know exactly who I am.”  Nova breathed in.  She smiled a little and laughed amid her tears.  

“My name is Nova Jean Artino.  I’m not a Renegade or an Anarchist.  I’m just Nova.  Yeah, I was raised as an Anarchist.  Yeah, I pretended to be a Renegade.  But that’s not important.  Because I’m Nova, and that’s all that matters.”  She carefully unscrewed the top and let the gold insect fly out.  

As it disappeared, Nova whispered to herself, “I can remember a time when I was so afraid.  I trapped a golden girl in a jar so she wouldn’t hurt me, and by doing that, I hurt her.  So now, now I’m terrified she’ll hate me forever.”  

Nova sat down on the rooftop, and waited.  For what though, she wasn’t quite sure.  Common sense told her to run.  Run far, and hide.  Danna would tell everyone, and she would spend the rest of her life behind bars.  

A flicker of orange caught Nova’s eye.  A swarm of brilliant monarchs were flying across the night, heading straight for Nova.  She sprang to her feet as they cycloned in front of her.  

They consolidated into a form still in a Renegades uniform, blonde dreadlocks wild and crazy, brushing against warm brown skin.  Danna.  

“Nova,” she whispered, before pitching forwards.  Right into Nova’s arms.  

Nova hugged her tight against her body, and inhaled the scent of flowers.  She gently lowered the unconscious girl to the ground, using her leg as a pillow for Danna’s head.  

Danna’s eyes flickered open.  “Nova…” she croaked.  

“Hey Danna,” she replied through a blur of tears.  “I’m sorry…”

Danna cut her off by reaching up and cradling Nova’s head.  She kissed her firmly, stopping anymore words from leaving Nova’s mouth.  

“I wanted to do that from the moment I saw you,” Danna breathed.  

Nova sprang to her feet, Danna right behind her.  

“Danna, I’m a bad person.  You should turn me in.  Find a better person to be with,”  Nova said softly through tears.  “I’m tired of living a lie.  Please… just do it already.”  She screwed her eyes shut and held out her hands, expecting Danna to handcuff her, or call Adrian and the others.  

Instead, warm arms enveloped her.  

Nova broke down sobbing, crying into Danna’s shoulder.  It wasn’t pretty or cute, it was an ugly cry.  Tears and snot ran down her face.  

“I’m so so sorry,” she sobbed.  “I trapped you.  I betrayed you.  How are you not mad?”

Danna sighed, and rubbed Nova’s back soothingly.  “In the beginning I was.  I was so mad that you had been spying on us, using us.  I was pissed that I was stuck in swarm mode.  But then… I saw how you lived.  The way the other anarchists used you, and the way you were manipulated.  I know that the Renegades messed up your life a lot, and I understand Nova.  I don’t agree with what you did, but I do understand.”

Nova sobs gradually ceased.  “You should go.  I don’t want to get you in trouble for helping me.  Thank you for everything Danna.”  She pulled herself away from the warm hug.  

“Nova,” Danna said sharply.  “You can put me in a cage, or lock me in a room, however much you want.”  She inhaled sharply.  “You can do whatever you want to try and convince me you're a bad person, but I know the truth.”

Nova turned to look at Danna’s wide brown eyes.  

“You can throw away the key to your heart, but you can bet that won’t stop me.”  Danna smiled at Nova.  “I dare you to let me into your life.  Because I'm in love with you.  And if you think that we can’t be together because you think you're a villain, then I’ll break down the walls guarding you.”  Danna smirked, her soft lips curving into a smile.  “I’m a higher wrecking ball, and you can’t stop me.  Nova Jean Artino, you are going to have to accept the fact that I love you, and I don’t want you to turn me away because you think you’re a villain.  I understand if you don’t want me, but I need you to realize that I want you as who you are, villain or not.”  

Nova shook her head.  “But what about my uncle?  I can’t just let him die, he’s done so much for me.  I won’t let you tear me down, away from my goal, and my family.  No, oh no.  He’s all I have left.  ”  

“Nova, it's too late for him, but it's not too late for you.  Throw away this pointless hope that he can survive this.  I agree the renegades need to change, and you are key to that, not him.”  Danna reached out to grab Nova’s hand, and pulled them together.

Nova pressed her forehead against Danna’s, their warm skin touching together.  

“Nova, I dare you to forget everything.  Forget the Anarchists and the Renegades.  Forget everything, and just think about me.”  Danna smiled at Nova.  “Do you want me the way I want you?”

“Yes,” Nova breathed.  “Oh, more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?  We can leave.  Start a new life, just us.   Forget renegades and anarchists.  There would be no Nightmare and Monarch.  Just Nova and Danna.”

“We can’t…”

“Why not?  What’s stopping you?   Is there anything for you in Gatlon?”

Nova shook her head.  “But Ace…”

“He’s already dead.  We can’t do anything for him.  But we can do something for you.  I know how huge this is- asking you to leave everything and start a new life, but I love you Nova Jean Artino, and I never want to see you caught by the Renegades, or used by the Anarchists ever again.”  Danna looked straight at Nova.  “Will you leave with me?”

“Okay,” Nova said, surprising herself.  “Okay,” she repeated with a small laugh.  “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

Danna’s face darkened.  “Everyday when I was in the jar.  When I saw the way you were treated, I knew I had to get you out of there.”

“That must have been terrible for you to be stuck in there,” Nova murmured.  

“You helped me.  Whenever I saw your face, or heard your voice it made me feel better because I knew nothing had happened.”

“You helped me too.  I’ve never had anyone I could talk to, but for you it felt like you were listening.  And understanding.”  Nova shrugged.  

“I was. Well not listening exactly, but I did understand.  And I wanted to form so I could wrap my arms around you, and kiss you until you were better.”  

“You can do that now if you want,” Nova said lightly.  “I hear it’s good to practice.”

Danna raised her eyebrow.  “Well, we’d better make up for years of missing out then.”

Nova’s face flushed a brilliant shade of red.  “You’re not the first person I kissed,” she mumbled.  

Danna laughed brightly.  “Really?  Who else?”

“Narcissa Cronin.  The Librarian’s daughter.  I don't think you've met her.”  

“Interesting.  But I still think you need more practice,”  Danna grinned, and cupped Nova’s face in her strong hands.  

Danna pulled them together, and they kissed.  

It was like nothing Nova had ever experienced before.  Small fireworks shot through her mind as she wrapped her legs up around Danna’s waist, and they tumbled down to the hard ground.  

They didn’t care.  

Danna ran her hands through Nova’s choppy hair.  

“We should go,” Nova said, breathless.  “If we really want to leave.”

“Yeah,” Danna said, equally out of breath.  She tucked a loose piece of hair behind Nova’s ear.  “We should.” 

She reached up and pulled Nova back down, Nova straddling her hips and leaned down over Danna again, her hair a thick curtain.  

“You’re beautiful Star,” Danna said thickly.  

“You too, lepidoptera,” Nova chuckled.  She leaned back up.  

“Oh stop it.”  Danna pretended to glare at Nova, and leaned back up.  

“Never.”  Nova smirked.  “So you really want to leave?  We can’t come back.  This is a forever decision,” Nova said, her expression souring.  

“Nova, I want you to be my forever,” Danna said, rubbing Nova’s hand.  “I love you, and I’d give up the world for you.”  She stood, and offered a hand to Nova, which Nova accepted.  

“I love you too, but I don’t want you to throw your life away.”

“I’m not throwing it away if it's with you.  I’m just making it better.”

Nova went up on her tiptoes, and brushed a kiss against Danna’s chin.  “I want to leave Gatlon forever and never look back.”

“Me too.”

“Ready then?”  

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”  

Danna burst into her swarm, and followed Nova closely as she made her way down the old building.  

She solidified, and together the two of them walked through the city, hand in hand.  

Nova thought back to the Anarchists, the way she was just leaving them.  They would not last long without her.  But Leroy was smart, and they knew how to survive.  

“Thinking about the others?”  Danna asked.  “I know I don’t like the idea of leaving our team by themselves, but I’d rather you be safe.” Danna squeezed her hand reassuringly.  “They’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Nova responded, thinking about the Anarchists not the Renegades.  

As they walked past the cathedral ruins, Nova whispered, “I won’t let you tear me down, Uncle.  You did what you could to mold me to become your perfect soldier, but now I'm becoming my own person.  And I say no more heroes and villains.  Just me and Danna forever.”  She looked back at the tall girl and smiled.  “She feels better than revenge will ever feel.  And I want her to be my forever.”

Together, hand in hand the couple left the city, and never returned.  

tag list: @honey-harper-official @quinterickson @thepurpledragon4444 @nova-artino @lesbianariescalante @prudence-barnett @plain-jane-mclain

(this is my first tag list so please let me know if you want to be added or taken off)