#should’ve never had his ass on stage

[pink7matter]

the general public finding out how shitty jo koy is from his opening speech from the golden globes 😭

[starsofang]

You hated TF141. They were your rival band—born to be enemies, forced into an endless feud. They were arrogant, loud, and always took all the time slots for practice rooms in a petty move against your own band. It was a rivalry that sprouted years ago and had stuck ever since.

You hated them. They hated your band just as much. So why couldn’t you stop fucking their drummer?

You don’t even remember how it began, but you knew it stemmed from a moment of pure, unadulterated hatred. A fit of rage on your end when you discovered one of your amps mysteriously ruined, wrecking the competition for you and causing a loss. You hadn’t an idea who had done it at the time, but you knew it had to be one of the little mutants from TF141.

Ghost had been the first one in your sight, the unlucky bastard who had to hear your outraged tangent about how your band should’ve won, the entire thing was rigged. Granted, he didn’t care, only pitching an argument back on how his band won fair and square and yours didn’t have a chance at winning anyway.

You don’t exactly recall how that caused you to end up trapped beneath him on a lousy couch in a backstage room with his hand wrapped around your throat and your back arching with his hips smashing against your ass, but that was besides the point.

The point was that you were becoming shamefully addicted and no matter how much your hatred for him bubbled with every competition or battle, you always ended up sprawled out on his bedsheets, or letting him into your apartment when he called in the middle of the night.

Every time you tried ending it, telling him you despised him and how much being with him made you sick, he’d snort out an arrogant laugh and puff on that stupid cigarette of his, muttering, “I’ll believe it when I see it, sweetheart.”

It was a never ending cycle and you couldn’t break out of it. It was starting to interfere with your work, spending the nights that you weren’t stuffed full of him writing angry lyrics for new songs to express yourself in the only way you knew how. Practices became sloppy, your work becoming more difficult by the day.

He was to blame for all of it. It made you hate him more. Yet you couldn’t stop. It was the drug your veins needed to pump blood and keep you alive.

Just when you’d find yourself fed up, wanting to break the addiction and telling yourself this time would be different, he’d give you that heated look from beneath his mask while his hands slammed against his drums upon stage, as if saying that performance was for you.

You fell back into the trap every time. Every loss felt doubled, and every win felt like charity. You didn’t care anymore. You just knew you needed your fix and he’d be there waiting with the syringe.

[siribaes]

beggin’

armando aretas x (oc) [ black!fem! ]

a decade ago armando spent an unforgettable summer with an unforgettable girl, who taught him everything. his sex teacher. now decade later he’s face to face with the teacher once again, determined to show that her lessons didn’t go to waste.

contents: some dom & sub dynamics. voice fixation. size kink. praise kink. pet names. fingering. brief! p in v. cūnnilingus. p!ssydrunk armando bc duh. slight impact play (no face slapping!) they’re in love but in denial about it, minor drug mention, etc. mdni!

suggested tunes📻: elevator by flo rida & timbaland, strip tease by danity kane, get naked (i got a plan) by britney spears, radio by girlicious, virtual diva by don omar, push by enrique igelsias

author’s note: this is slight au, so think of this being the early stages of the revenge plot prior to isabel’s escape. lol the chokehold that the long lost love/lovers reuniting has lol >> i tried to make this as filthy as a possible :) not proofread or edited!

club exquisite was in full swing. bodies packed the building, from wall to wall, people were dancing, drinking, or doing both simultaneously. multicolored strobe lights swirled and danced, combinations of blues, greens and reds illuminated the dance floor, complimenting the dj’s killer set of miami’s finest.

it was lively and fun.

armando, however, was having anything but.

tucked away in a corner booth of the v.i.p., armando sat bored out of his mind, sipping on way too sweet champagne. he should’ve been doing something more useful with his time. instead, he was stuck playing babysitter for the son of a future drug connect, all this per his mother’s instructions.

. . .this marriage between his son and your cousin, alejandra will benefit us. our partnership will bring us one step closer, it’s all apart of the grand design mijo. . .

was sipping champagne that tasted like super sugary, ginger ale a part of the grand design? apparently. watching the groom-to-be snort a line of coke off of girl’s ass was a part of the grand design too. armando took another sip from the flute before sitting it down on table, watching as the girl giggled and kissed sebastian on the mouth. armando never cared for sebastian, they were just so different from one another. sebastian was a pretty boy who liked pretty things, he never worked a day in his life and instead of doing his own thing, he basked in the glory of his father’s notoriously ruthless reputation. armando was self-made, haunted by his father’s death and forged by the fire of mother’s imprisonment. armando blazed his own path and was destined for greater things.

yet, he was here in miami, clubbing with sebastian’s and his pack of idiot friends.

a heavy hand shook him out of his thoughts.

“primo,” sebastian slurred. he swiped at his runny nose, before running hand down his half buttoned shirt. “c’mon, we’re going to the real v.i.p.,”

slightly relieved, armando followed sebastian as the bachelor party were lead by security out of the main dance floor. as they weaved between the crowd, armando trailed slightly behind, keeping a careful eye out on the crowd. despite never being in a fight in this his life, sebastian had a fuck ton of enemies. he was like that. the music became a faint murmuring as the group walked through a door and into an elaborately painted hallway. the walls were a warm golden color, while the ceiling and its floors were covered in mirrored tile. the group continued on, armando continued to linger in the back. amongst the drunken laughter of sebastian and his friends, was this clicking sound.

click! . . . click! . . . click!

armando searched around for the sound as they continued down the hallway, eyes roamed around until he found the source, woman in a pair of high heels. they weren’t just any, regular pair of heels, they were black-patent leather so kate louboutins. fortunately enough for armando he’s familiar with the shoe, he may or may not have purchased a pair or two for his past situationships. armando continues to observe; taking in the details, the woman’s shapely and toned legs, the rich brown skin, and the intricate zipper tattoo that began at the back of her ankle, and traveled up her leg. the remainder of tattoo was lost from the fabric of her dress.

a curiosity sparked inside of armando, watching the woman confidently strut the mirrored floor. he wanted to see just how far the tattoo went. she continued leaving a lingering smell in her wake. it was a combination of warm and spicy, like cinnamon and peach pie. her fragrance filled the molecules in the air he could practically taste it. after turning a corner, the group came to halt in front of pair of doors. from the other side, a pair of security guards opened up the doors.

sebastian and his friends drunkenly ooo-ed and ahh-ed and the ornate nature of the room. armando could care less about the sliver couch, the decked-out bar or the strippers that awaited them upon their arrival, he focused on her. although he got better view, she still alluded him, he could see her from the back, fully, a black bandage dress, accentuated her curves and that ass. . . it looked so round and perky like you could bounce a quarter off it, or grab a handful.

something slowly churned inside of armando as he moved further into the room. he leisurely grabbed a seat on the far end of the couch, with the hopes of seeing his mystery girl's face. the party continued on with the speakers on the room ceiling playing a feed of the dj’s set back out on the dance floor. sebastian and his groomsmen settled on the couch, excited for their lap dances. the lights dimmed too, not enough obscure one’s sight completely, but dark enough to bring on a certain atmosphere to the space.

armando scanned the room for his mystery girl. somehow she’s disappeared on him.

“aren’t you pretty one,” a voice whispered to him, distracting armando from his search. standing before was a woman, one of the strippers. her voice was overly smoky and performative. even the way she batting her long, wispy lashes, she was trying way too hard. he tilted his head away from his obstructed view, “you wanna dance, papí?” armando glanced up at her, a laugh bubbled up inside of him, he suppressed it, for her sake of course.

“nah, sweetheart. i’m good,” armando rasped. the woman shrugged, on to the next. when the stripper moved, standing directly in his sight was his mystery girl. even through the darkness, she was as clear as day.

her heart-shaped face, her button nose and glossy lips, her disney-drawn eyes, brown and wide, in they way they’ve always looked when she was shocked or anxious.

armando’s mystery girl, was no mystery at all. he knew her.

before he could call out to her, she bolted out of the room through the doors. armando glanced at sebastian, who was having a grand ‘ol time being motorboated by a voluptuous stripper. he’s fine. armando took off, following the cinnamon-peachy scent out to the hallway.

she was almost at the end of the hallway. . .

“leyna?” she stopped. she slowly turned around and faced him. “you runnin’ from me?”

her brows furrowed. “i wasn’t running. i was just. . .getting some air,”

armando’s lips twitched. he sauntered over, baring no shame is as he took, no, drank leyna in. it’s been so long, his eyes roamed over leyna. armando took his time, observing, noting every single detail, both old and new. he zeroes in on her legs, watching has she nervously bounces her right leg, the tattooed one. her louboutins make a soft clicking noise against the floor.

armando smirks.

“still shakin’. . .you must be nervous,” armando gestured, it was a tick leyna’s had since she was a kid. leyna frowned, she stopped bouncing. she folded arms around her chest.

“please, i’m not nervous,” she sassed. her glossy lips pursed, forming into a small pout. such a brat. he wanted to kiss the pout off her lips. “anyways, what are you doing here, in miami?”

for a moment, he thinks. armando could tell her the truth flat out: he’s here in miami for business, and his only job was ensuring that sebastian, sober or not, makes it down the isle. . .or he could stretch the truth out. make it a game for himself. anything to distract leyna, even if it’s for a short while.

so, armando shrugs. “business,”

“business? that’s it? it’s been ten years armando, that’s all you have to say?”

armando steps closer to leyna. his over 6-foot frame easily towers over her petite 5-foot-3 frame. has she always been so tiny? he reaches out towards her, the corner of his lips twitch as leyna’s chest rises as her breath catches in her throat. he twirls a long strand of between his fingers, before giving it a gentle tug.

“s’ somewhere we can talk?”

“armando,” leyna sighed. her voice was all high and pitchy, it scratched a certain part of his brain. a flood of memories came surging through. he need hear leyna say his name like that again. “i’m working. both of us should get b-back,”

leyna moves past him, armando doesn’t protest. as she starts walking away, armando reaches into his pant’s pocket.

“how much?” leyna spins around on her heels. a flicker of curiosity dances in her eyes.

“huh?” armando watches leyna eyes light up even more when pulls a money clip out. he thumbs through several bills before he lifts it up.

“its ‘bout three g’s in my hand. should be enough for a shift plus tips, yeah?” her eyes bounce between the money and armando. he can see the wheels in her mind turn, she chews on the bottom of her glossy lips.

“10-minutes. that’s all i can do,” armando nodded. he placed the money in her hand, his fingers gently brushed against hers. ten minutes is all he needs.

armando follows leyna down the hallway, opposite of the party. his eyes roamed, watching leyna’s body sway as she walked. he shouldn’t be turned on from a walk but he was. leyna didn’t walk, she glided. so effortless, and so easy, better then any it was something about seeing her so confidence all these years later. it was refreshing, armando dealt with so many fakes and try hards in his line of business. leyna’s confidence was real. she was real.

“i can feel you staring,” leyna sassed. they stop at a door, she quickly inputs a set of numbers on a keypad. the door clicks.

“i like what i see,” leyna shakes her head, she opens the door, stepping aside to let armando walk in front of her.

the room itself was half the size of the v.i.p. room, and opposite in aesthetics too. the walls were painted a nice, creamy beige, with a matching colored couch. on the far wall, there was an elaborate shelf display old-used bottles of champagne. armando steps inside, taking the room in. the door softly closes, with a click. the room is quiet.

“so,” leyna drawls. she takes a seat on the couch. armando follows suit, sitting next to her. their knees almost graze each others. she flips her hair over her shoulder. “wanna tell me the real reason why you’re here in miami?”

armando chuckles. “a wedding. my cousin ‘s gettin’ married,”

“alejandra?” she remembered, of course she did. she was always to so knowledgeable and attentive. she used to be like that to him.

“yeaaah. she’s been lovin’ bein’ in charge of everybody with the plannin’ and stuff,”

“i hope she’s not bogging you down too much,” his lips tipped into a teeny-tiny smile. she still was still the ever-doting teacher, worried about her student.

“nah. wedding plannin’ ain’t my thing. besides, i’m just assigned babysittin’ duty for sebastian,”

“mhm. i would’ve never paired them together. alejandra, from what i remembered, was so kind, and funny, smart too! sebastian is just a grade-a asshole who likes wreck every club he goes to and piss in public,” armando chuckles as leyna shivers, maybe recalling a memory. armando reaches for the hem of her dress, he toys with it between his fingers. she doesn’t stop him.

“she loves ‘em i guess,” part of that was true, their marriage was arranged yet, alejandra told him that she’s learned to love parts of sebastian. there’s a part of him that wished it wasn’t like that for her.

“i wish her the best,” leyna spoke solemnly.

the room fell quiet, armando still toyed with the edge of leyna’s dress. he tipped his head, looking at leyna.

“you’ve been good though, yeah,” he meant for it to be question but it came out as a statement. she had to be good though, she looked good, and had this fancy ass job at one of miami’s most exclusive clubs. life had to be good.

leyna’s leg began to bounce, as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “yeah, i guess. my life’s been pretty boring since you’ve seen me,”

“tell me,”

“well. . .” leyna trailed. her leg still bounced. armando wanted grab her ankle and make her stop. why was his girl nervous? “i graduated, i gotta b.a. in business administration, got this hostess job short after, met my best friend ana here, let me tell you she’s literally the best cook,” she was rambling, slightly, but armando didn’t care, he wanted to know every single detail. he missed his girl, his bambi. they need to make up for lost time.

“we’re going into business together, a restaurant. i’m going to take care of all the logistics, put my degree to good use, finally. so, yeah, i’m really excited about it, as you can see. but yeah, uhm, what else, i was engaged,”

armando stopped toying with the hem. he turned and took her fully, her right leg bounced even more so. that’s what she was nervous about.

“what happened?”

“uhm,” her beautiful features held a pained expression. a twinge of anger sprouted inside of armando, seeing her like this. whoever made his girl upset needed their ass kicked, especially by him. “to make a long story short, he cheated, multiple times actually. i just got tired being the laughing stock in every room,” she lowered her gaze and fiddled her hands.

armando slowly reached for leyna’s hands. her hands were so soft under his touch. with his thumb, he drew light circles on the back of her hands. a strange emotion was bubbling up inside him, he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. a little anger, some jealousy, a little sadness too, it was just too much fully explain but the his urge was clear. armando wanted to pull her close, and take care of her like she truly deserves.

“he didn’t deserve you,” she looks at him now, her big brown eyes all wide and glossed over. long lashes fluttered against the tops of her round cheeks, her resemblance to bambi was spot-on. the air became thick around them, and that urge, thrummed in his bones.

armando wanted leyna and he wanted her bad.

“you deserved somebody that’ll take care of you,” he rasped. his words were sincere and true, leyna was one of the kindest, tentative, sweetest people he had ever known. she shown him a kindness when most people wouldn’t. leyna deserved the world, and then some. “you deserve someone who’s gonna protect you, an’ spoil you, an’ just fuckin’ be there,” words were spilling out of his mouth now, like faucet left on. he leans in closer to her, glancing down her glossy lips. he licked his own. “bambi, you deserve someone that can make you feel good,” armando was so dangerously close he could see a breath get caught in leyna’s throat, her chest slight rose up in response. he caught a glimpse of leyna’s jet-black bra that held up her ample cleavage. the peachy-cinnamon smell radiated off the column of her neck, it enticed him, slowly drawing him closer and closer to her.

armando leaned his forehead against her’s.

“fuck, bambi,”

“. . .armando,” leyna whispered. her voice was so pitchy and soft, it smoothed over him. it triggered a hunger for leyna, more veracious than ever before. ten years of distance and unresolved feelings, danced in his blood. his palms itched with desire to squeeze and caress leyna’s soft skin. he wanted to touch the softest part of her.

“please. bambi, ‘jus lemme care take of you, make you feel good. . . i never get what i want,”

leyna back away from him, keeping a steady gaze, she caressed the side of armando’s cheek. her manicured acrylics lightly scratched at his goatee. a bolt of electricity shot through his body when her thumb swiped at his bottom lip.

“i’ve only been with a few men after you,” leyna confessed. “none of them, including my ex, made me feel good like you did. you were the only one,”

armando groaned, lowly. everything in him surged to the surface, so much so he was bursting at the seams.

“c’mere,” leyna obliged. he pulls her in for a kiss. at first it was chaste and sweet, armando tried to ease into the kiss, but the pillowy, softness of her lips and her sweet peachy smell drove him insane. he deepened the kiss, moving his lips hungrily, against hers, while he cradled her head. when he licked her lips, leyna opened her mouth to allow him to explore with her with his tongue. she tasted like peach pie.

"i need it," leyna moaned into his mouth. armando hovered over her lips.

"you say somethin' bambi," he teased, he slid his hands down her frame, stopping at her ass. he rubbed and squeezed, before smacking it. she squeaked.

"baby, please," leyna whimpered, she climbed into armando's lap. she slowly, ground down on his lap, she gasped, feeling his hardness. the look she had in her eyes, a mix of lust and longing, shot straight through him and went to his dick. he snaked a hand towards the back of her neck, he gently gripped the soft flesh. she stopped her movement.

"take that fuckin' dress off," he groaned. leyna blinks. she rose from his lap and proceeded to shimmy out of the dress. she let it pool at her feet before stepping out of it. armando couldn't help himself, all of her smooth curves, and deep rich skin, he just wanted to take a big bite of her. he pulled her back to the couch, switching places, and slid between her legs.

there was no pretense, armando immediately spread her legs wide went straight for leyna's pussy. with his thumb he rubs at her clothed pussy. he revels in the small squelching noise that her pussy makes. leyna whimpers, looking down at him with those big, brown eyes. he chuckles.

“still sensitive?” leyna quickly nods. armando chuckles again, he peels her to the side, admiring the slivery trail of arousal that drips from her pussy onto the fabric. he hums. such a pretty pussy. leyna's pink pussy drips and drools with arousal, fully open and ready, all for him. with calloused thumbs, armando rubs small, droopy circles on the inner parts of leyna's thighs. he inched forward, replacing his fingers with chaste kisses, they create goosebumps on leyna's skin. he licks his lips, keeping his eyes on leyna, kisses her clit.

"fuck! armando,"

he anticipates. before she could ask, armando lays his tongue flat against leyna’s dripping core.

“oo-ooh,” she coos. “you ‘remembered,”

how could he forget, images of him buried between leyna’s shaky legs are burned into his brain. countless lessons from her, teaching him, guiding him. he swears he can hear her voice, way back when during that time.

. . .spread your tongue, a little to the left. yeah ‘just like that, s’ good. good boy. . .

a forceful yank on armando’s curls bring him back to reality. he adjusts his grip on leyna’s thighs, spreading them wider, the pads of his thumbs caressing the plushness.

“fuuuck me! oh my g-god,” leyna whines. armando smiles against her skin, his tongue licks a long stripe against leyna’s core. her arousal is sweet, like peach ice cream. it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever, will ever taste. his sweet girl. armando groans, pulling back slightly, he brings his calloused thumb to leyna’s swollen nub. armando rubs her clit, reveling in her response to his touch. she practically glows, deep brown skin, completely flushed, reddening a bit at her chest. her glossy lips formed into a cute pout, her bottom lip poking ever so slightly, just begging to be kissed, to be bitten by him. seeing her so overwhelmed, so pleasured, sends wave of arousal through armando. his erection painfully rubs against the fabric of his slacks.

“eyes on me, baby,” armando rasps. leyna’s struggle to stay open, succumbing to euphoria between her legs. smack! leyna’s disney-drawn eyes shoot open, to look down at armando. for a moment armando sees something flicker in them, it strips him bare, milliseconds feel like years under her gaze. armando pulls back, spitting directly onto leyna’s pussy. with a new vigor, he dives back in, his tongue licks and drags up and down her softness. his tongue swirls the mix, leyna’s honeyed arousal and his spit, gathering and spreading it onto her clit. he begins suckling the nub, feeling leyna’s sugary essence drip down his goateed chin.

“a-armando! wait s-slow down,”

“uh-uh. you’re my big girl,” he spits, again. armando slurps leyna’s clit, hard. no better then a starving man. “you can take it,”

“c-cumin’. i’m cumin’ baby, pleaseee,” leyna lets out a melodious whine. better than any song or music he’s ever heard. nothing can compare to his girl’s angelic voice, all pitchy and delicate. it’s music to his ears.

“ 's i got you. i got you bambi, let it out,” armando drawls. he sucks at leyna’s clit as it throbs against his tongue. her legs clamp down around armando’s head, this makes him push harder to get her over the edge. he switches his approach, one hand pries open leyna’s leg, with the other he slips his middle finger inside her entrance, slowly prodding her open, he flattens his tongue to lap at her clit. with the other hand he reaches, palming one of her bra covered breasts.

“s-shit! don’t stop please,” leyna is babbling now. she rakes her nails through armando’s thick curls. armando can feel her tightening around his middle finger. she’s close. . .

bam! the band snaps. leyna orgasms hard.

her sugary, syrupy essence flows out of her. leyna holds armando’s head close, she rides out her aftershocks, jerking lightly when his tongue and nose glides over her sensitive clit. slowly, armando pulls away, a string a saliva connects from his lips to leyna’s pussy. he rose up from his crouched position. armando towering over her, his eyes gazing down at her, dilated pupils heavy with dangerous mix, care and lust, maybe even something more. the soft lighting catches armando’s glistening goatee and cheeks. his pink tongue swipes at his bottom lip, like a coyote eyeing its subdued prey.

leyna was everything at the same time. his baby take care of, his princesa to spoil, and his bambi to devour.

“h-how’d you get so good,” leyna stammered. her breathing is still a bit choppy.

“learned from the best,” he rasps, he eyes slowly rake over, as if he was studying her. he wanted to remember her in this very moment.

leyna smiles, sheepishly.

“c’mere,” armando beckons. leyna obliges, she sits up, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. armando tilts leyna chin upwards, he leans in, capturing her lips. he nips at her bottom lip, when leyna opens her mouth, he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. she tastes herself on his tongue, it starts off tangy but quickly bleeds into a saccharine taste. their tongues wrestle. before, in this war of mouths, leyna used to win, mostly due to armando’s lack of experience, but now it’s much different. he wields his tongue masterfully like knight and their sword, twisting and tasting every inch of her mouth.

“you ready for me princesa?” leyna nods. he watches as her mouth opens and then closes when he slips his shirt over his head. she's pratically drooling at the sight. she should be, countless hours of training have contributed to his sculpted body, all muscles and hard edges. mindlessly her fingers trace over his chest. nails drag over the ridges of his six-pack. she stops her ogling when she sees a scar near his rib cage. armando notices.

“bar fight. fucker, got me good with a broken bottle. had to get a couple stitches,”

“oh baby,”

“hey, hey,” armando gently grabs leyna’s hand. he drags it up, so it cups his cheek. “i’m good,”

his voice holds sincerity as that strange feeling returns inside of him. that urge to hold and take care of leyna, to protect her from his woes, the world, and all its troubles. leyna reaches down to unbuckle his pants, but he stops her.

“not tonight, bambi. wanna be inside of you,”

leyna gulps. he cocks his head to the side.

“don't get all shy on me now," armando tilts her chin. "you know what to do, princesa,"

leyna peels out of her slightly ripped and soaked panties, she tosses them aside. she reaches behind for the clasp of her bra, she unbuckles it, carefully she lays it on the couch next to her dress. when leyna reaches down to slip off her heels, armando tsks.

“nah. leave ‘em on,” armando bites his lip, his eyes sweeping over her naked frame. she’s changed a lot over ten years, she’s curvier, with an obvious plushness and fullness in her breasts and ass. noticeably, there’s a small tattoo of a lotus flower on the upper right side of her rib cage. “fuck, bambi. you all grown up,”

leyna opens her mouth to retort but she shuts it as armando unbuttons his pants.

"you trust me?" armando huffs, he slowly pumps his hardness, feeling pre-cum leaking from his tip.

“of course, i trust you,” leyna replies softly.

“shit princesa. you can’t say stuff like that,” armando murmurs.

he slowly spins leyna around, her back was at his front. he made sure slowly grind his bulge into her, so she could feel all of him.

“soy el rey ahora,” there a slight edge in his voice, it contrasted with the soft circles he drew on the back of her neck. “on all fours, princesa,” leyna obliges. she moves towards the couch, planting herself on her hands and knees, and arches her back. armando groans as she makes a show of it, wiggling her hips in the process. “so pretty liked this. my sweet girl, my bambi, imma fuck the shit out of you,” armando all but growls. a hand reaches into her scalp, fisting her hair. he forcefully tugs at her locks, pulling her head backwards.

leyna whimpers. “baby ‘s rough,”

armando roughly spits on her pussy. he watches as the spit slides down, mixing with her slickness. he’s not nice, not like before. all the care and attention he paid towards her pussy, that armando was long gone. now, replaced with a meaner, tunnel-vision armando. he pushes himself, filling her to her hilt, his stretching out her pussy, all of ridges of his dick rubbing against her gummy walls. she's so warm and tight, a delicious contrast of pushing and pulling him further inside of her. a chill runs down leyna's spine while her manicured nails claw at the fabric of the couch.

“oh fuck!” leyna shouts, armando smacks her right ass-cheek. he executes a few shallow thrusts, barely moving in and out of leyna.

“how bad you wan’ it?” armando drawls.

“so bad baby, please fuck me, please,” leyna’s hoarseness sounds ethereal to him. the breathy way she sounds, the want, the need, makes him even harder. so much so it pains him.

“i got you,” armando tightens the hold he has on leyna’s hair and hip. he pulls all the way out, admiring the mess his girl makes on his dick. the glossy shine the covers him. he stifles back a moan, her warmth and softness send waves of pleasure straight to his dick. he bites down on his lip, watching leyna’s ass ripple against him with every stroke. a bolt of electricity shoots through him as she clamps down on him, her walls tighten, and grip at his dick. she's close.

"i feel you, you cumin' bambi?"

“y-yes, oooh fuck! i’m so close. don’t stop,"

a loud chiming erupts over the sex sounds leyna makes. armando can feel a vibration in his pocket. he reluctantly reaches and sees who’s calling his phone, he answers, while still keeping a steady pace. pumping in and in out of leyna.

“fuck, you want,” armando growls, one hand on the phone while the other holds onto leyna’s shoulder. she moans a little too loud, so he covers her mouth. over the phone one of sebastian’s groomsmen informs that sebastian has wandered off with one of the strippers, no one can find him and he’s left his phone behind. “fuck me. fuckin’ pendejo, i-i’ll be over in a minute, shit,” armando slows down his pace before pulling out completely, leyna whines at the loss of contract.

“i gotta go,” armando sighs. leyna now sits facing him.

“but why? what’s the matter?” his heart pangs at the disappointment that edges out in her voice. he quickly redresses, buckling his pants and slipping his shirt back over and on.

“a situation came up,” he leans down and kisses her on the cheek. “imma come an’ find you,”

without another look or word, armando walks out of the v.i.p. with a hard dick and an odd feeling panging in his chest.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

If you are still taking Halloween fic requests:

Member of a monster-themed novelty band Grantaire x Actual Vampire Enjolras

oh HELL YEAHHHHHH

i'd apologize for the ensuing silliness but you can probably gather that is a hallmark of the fledgling "monster-themed novelty band x actual literal monster" genre. this is part one; i may write more tomorrow

“Grantaire,” Joly panted, “come quick, it’s a party emergency!”

Grantaire, who might as well have lived inside a glass case labeled BREAK IN CASE OF PARTY EMERGENCY, flipped himself right side up from where he’d been about to attempt a keg stand, and nodded solemnly, clapping his hands together. The blood rushed back to his head in a giddy wave.

“What do you need?” he asked.

Joly nodded at Bossuet to explain as the three of them barreled down the hallway.

“Here’s the thing,” said Bossuet, “we hired a band tonight, but the lead singer got way too high and now he thinks he needs to liberate all the notes from his guitar.”

Grantaire cocked his head to one side. “Does that explain why someone’s spent the past hour loudly and determinedly playing scales?”

“I don’t pretend to understand the inebriate’s mind!” Joly shouted, gesticulating wildly. The effect was slightly undercut by the bottle of gin in his hand.

“Point is,” said Bossuet, still walking at an almost-run, “we already rounded up Eponine and Bahorel. We need you guys to take the stage and salvage what’s left of tonight. C’mon, Bahorel says your sound is really getting there.”

“We’re not a band,” Grantaire insisted. “We’re a support group that keeps getting noise violations. We’ve never even played a gig.” He knew he probably sounded whiny but it had been a long week. His minimum possible math requirement was kicking his ass. “Besides, I had plans for tonight. I was gonna get laid.” Or at least, he was going to do his damnedest. Believe in yourself. Manifest your dreams. No I in team.

Bossuet simultaneously peered at Grantaire and pulled him through a door. “Is that why you’re dressed as…god, I don’t know, what do you call all this?”

“I thought he was an Animorph,” announced Joly. “Like, at a midpoint in the transformation to some kind of hairy animal.”

Grantaire coughed.

“Sorry,” said Joly easily. “A Sexy Mid-Transformation Animorph.”

“Shit, take in some culture once in a while, this is embarrassing,” said Grantaire. He gestured at the wolf ears on his headband, the fur glued to the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, the canine nose he’d drawn over his own with Eponine’s eyeliner pencil, the strategically ripped shirt and jeans. “I’m a Sexy Wolfman,” he said. “Obviously.”

He and Eponine, who had watched Ginger Snaps every day for the past month, had agreed to go as a pair of werewolves, but then Eponine had abandoned their pack of two to go make out with Cosette, which he really should’ve seen coming. He couldn’t even hold it against her; Eponine had been “casually” memorizing Cosette’s general weekly schedule for the past couple of semesters, when she wasn’t watching Cosette moony-eyed from the other side of the Quad. It was all probably very cute.

“Well, Wolfman,” said Bossuet, nudging Grantaire in the direction of the makeshift stage, where Bahorel was taking a seat behind the drums and Eponine was—reluctantly, by the look of it—re-tuning her borrowed bass. “You three have about thirty seconds to think of a band name.”

Grantaire picked up the electric guitar and raised his eyebrows at Eponine, whose lupine makeup was now marred by bright red lip marks, like something from a cartoon. Her own lips were smeared crimson, which was to be expected, but.

“She stopped to kiss you multiple times on the cheek?” he muttered.

“Shut up,” said Eponine, visibly blushing. “How’s your quest for a meaningless hookup?”

Grantaire let out a long breath. “Not even the furries are biting,” he admitted as Eponine snickered.

“Band names, people,” said Bahorel. He adjusted a cymbal. “I don’t have all night.”

“Hello,” Grantaire intoned into the microphone. “We are Not Even the Furries Are Biting! This first song—”

“Gonna kill you and make it look like an accident,” Eponine crooned low in his ear. “The embarrassing kind. Toilet-related.”

The thing was, in their capacity as a very loud sort-of group therapy session, with October 31st on the horizon, they had actually been talking about the appeal of wolves as a metaphor for the parts of oneself that felt wild or lonely or unlovable. To that effect, they’d been toying with a couple songs.

Maybe, thought Grantaire, this would not be a complete and total clusterfuck.

They played “I was a Teenage Werewolf” by The Cramps. They played “I’m The Wolf Man” by Round Robin. They played “Werewolf” by The Frantics. Any time he, Bahorel, or Eponine ran into a snag—a fumbled note, a missed beat, a patch that wasn’t perfectly memorized—Grantaire attempted to cover for them by throwing back his head and wailing, as if he was losing more and more of his grip on his humanity.

They were just finishing the first verse of The Black Keys’ “Howling for You” when Grantaire saw him: a tall, handsome stranger lingering at the back edge of the room, with intense eyes and an even more intense air of stone-cold sobriety. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t frowning, just—looking. Disapprovingly? Apathetically? Saddled with a bad case of heartburn? It was hard to tell.

The chorus started up, and Grantaire sang along with Eponine and Bahorel:

“Da da da da da, da da da da da da—”

Grantaire grinned as more and more of the crowd joined in—pulled along less by the band’s general prowess or charisma and more by a drunk college student’s inherent love of an easy earworm, but Grantaire wasn’t splitting hairs at this point.

“Da da da da da, da da da da da—”

A sea of bobbing, singing partygoers, and there on the fringes, Offensively Sober Guy stood perfectly still, watching Grantaire so intently that Grantaire almost forgot the words to the refrain.

Or rather, the word.

Or rather, the single repeating syllable.

To Offensively Sober’s left, two guys attempted to clink their beer bottles together and somehow lost their balance, careening into him. He maintained his impeccable posture as if they weren’t even in the room, never breaking his stare. It was honestly a little creepy.

For reasons Grantaire would later not be able to fully reconstruct, he decided the funniest thing to do would be to wink and smirk and generally pretend like Sober was really, really into him.

[sorchathered]

Strip that down

Pairing- Club Owner!Jake Seresin x Dancer!Reader (Nightclub AU)

Warnings- mentions of stripping, language, light smut

Summary-I’m gonna be so serious y’all I blacked out writing this, might make it a series of drabbles in the future bc I went feral for the concept.

“I swear you have got to be the most pig headed, arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met” you say as you storm down the hall, a very disgruntled Jake Seresin hot on your heels. He hadn’t intended to start a fight but goddamnit it seemed like no matter what he said lately caused an argument.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like I was asking for that girl’s number or anything, she was all over me! What did you want me to do? hit her? Come on Cherry just stop and look at me please?” He said as he jogged in front of you to stall you. You two weren’t even dating, you’d been very adamant that this was just hooking up, so why were you so pissed? Unless…

“Cherry look at me. I can’t keep fighting with you like this, it’s driving me insane. If you want to break things off we can, I can’t say I won’t miss you but I’ll get it. We work together and it’s hard to be professional when shit like this happens. But…if you want more, all you have to do is ask baby girl, you know good and damn well you’ve got me totally wrapped.”

He had you crowded up against the sticky nightclub wall, bass thrumming through the room straight into your chest as he skimmed his hands up and down your sides. You’d been in the middle of your set when you watched some fresh faced new hire throw her arms around his neck and get way too close for your liking, but of course you had to be professional and continue on, trying to school your features as you danced on stage. The second you’d finished and gotten your tips you’d slammed his portion on the bar, stomping off to the dressing rooms, the fire in your eyes enough to burn the whole room down. He wasn’t yours, he was your boss and you should’ve known better than to let him get under your skin like this.

You were trying to get your bearings but your head was spinning, had he really just said he wanted more? You opened your mouth but promptly shut it, how were you supposed to respond to that? Of course that’s what you wanted but you never would’ve suggested it, you’d been in love with him since the two of you had started this whole arrangement, how could you not be? He was charming and charismatic, and don’t even ask about his looks; the man knew he looked good. He was making it harder and harder to focus now, those damn hands of his couldn’t seem to stop grazing over whatever exposed flesh he could get to and it was making you dizzy.

He cocked his head and smirked that smart ass smile at you, leaning in to whisper against your lips, “Gotta use your words baby, you want us to keep going like we are? Or do you want me to make you mine? You say the word and I’ll make sure every girl in a 100 mile radius knows you own me, but I need to hear you say it.”

“You know I do, I love you, you’re such an asshole but fuck I do, I love you Jake.”

He groaned as he pressed himself to you, kissing you hard as he continued to run his hands all over your body. “Goddamnit Cherry, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me, making me fucking crazy, I ought to take you right here where everyone can see.” His words sent fire through your veins, you cried out and bucked into him at the thought of him fucking you right outside of the main stage, anyone could walk by and you weren’t sure you’d even care. He chuckled against the shell of your ear as he continued to press his palm against your core, he could feel you soaking through the thin fabric of your costume, again he briefly considered following through with his taunting and fucking you right here, but thought better of it because after all you were still at work. He kissed you again and removed his hand from your shorts, watching your pretty doe eyes blink at him in shock, you really had thought he’d do it.

“Oh come on now don’t look at me like that, go change and grab your stuff, first I’m gonna take you out for dinner and then you can be my dessert, whadd’ya say Cherry Pie?” You rolled your eyes but let him scoot you down the hall, and when you walked out with his hand on your ass you made sure the new waitress caught a glimpse of your tongue down his throat. Jake could definitely get used to this side of you, and the private dances just for him every night didn’t hurt either.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia @goldenseresinretriever @bradshawssugarbaby @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby

[polkadotpenguin16]

The Five Stages of Grief: Acceptance

A/N: That’s it! We’ve done it!! If you had told me a year ago that I was going to write a whole-ass story, I wouldn’t have believed you. But here we are – life’s funny, isn’t it? Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who’s been following along with my story. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was capable of writing something anyone would enjoy reading. All the likes, reblogs, and comments have really added a sparkle to my life I didn’t know I needed. Also, extra huge thank you to the lovelies who reviewed, edited, and let me ramble on about my idea. This could not have been done without you and I am forever grateful <3

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Word count: 2,985

Previous parts: Prologue | Denial | Anger | Bargaining | Depression

Also posted on AO3.

You didn’t need to tell Sonny where to meet you in Prospect Park. He knew the exact spot. On your fourth date, you took a walk through the park. Out of nowhere, it started pouring down rain, so you took cover under a gazebo. That was where you shared your first kiss, and that memory would forever be engrained in his head.

Even though you were fifteen minutes early, Sonny was already waiting for you in that gazebo. You shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. He sat hunched over on the bench with his arms on his knees. He looked up when he heard you but didn’t say anything. He didn’t look like your Sonny. The sparkle was drained from his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. You knew the feeling. You sat beside him on the bench, leaving an uncomfortable amount of distance between you. The tension from when you last met still lingered in the air, but the mood felt less defensive and more cautious.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you said to break the ice. Your heart was in your throat. Your anxiety wasn’t as high as last time, but you were nonetheless still nervous. Your hands were clammy, and your leg was restlessly bouncing, making the bench squeak beneath you. But you needed to be here, to make things right.

Sonny nodded in response. He was no longer despondent or resentful but still felt very guarded. He was prepared to accept the outcome of your conversation, whether that meant moving forward or moving on.

“Well, I have a lot of apologizing to do.” You rummaged through your bag to find your phone. “So I made a list to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

Sonny didn’t come here today expecting an apology. He was the one who messed up, in his mind. But writing an apology as an itemized list was such a “you” thing to do. He was always fond of how meticulous you were.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you began. “Let’s start with number one: I’m sorry for leaving that night. Packing up without a word was wrong, and I should’ve stayed and talked with you. Number two: I’m sorry for avoiding you. You reached out to apologize and reconcile, and I was unwilling to communicate. It was childish and unproductive of me to ignore you.”

You paused briefly to glance up at Sonny’s face. His expression was neutral, but you could tell by how his eyes were fixed onto you that he was listening intently. Sonny was so surprised by your words that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. He’d spent more time worrying about your feelings than examining his own. This apology was like a salve to a deep cut he hadn’t noticed. Closure he didn’t know he needed.

You looked back at your phone and continued down your list. “Um, number three: I’m sorry for the unforgivable things I said to you when we fought. I didn’t mean them, but I know that’s no excuse, nor does it take anything back. Number four: I’m sorry for being jealous of your relationship with Amanda. You assured me she was just your friend, and I should’ve never doubted you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for, and I should not have made you feel bad for being just that.”

Sonny broke his gaze away from you. He felt ashamed that he’d missed what others had seen. And that you felt the need to apologize for his actions. That guilt-fueled churning in his stomach he’d become so familiar with made a return.

Still concentrating on your list, you resumed. “And number five: I’m sorry for not being honest about how I was feeling. I pretended I was okay with how things were and that was unfair to you. I should’ve been upfront when I started feeling neglected so that you could’ve had the chance to respond. I’m not apologizing here today with the expectation that I’ll be forgiven.” You wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes. “I know I’ve caused damage that I may not be able to repair. I want to be with you Sonny, if you’ll have me. I promise to be more open, understanding, and to communicate better. I love you, and I’m willing to put in the work to fix us.”

You put your phone away and gave him a look that you hoped conveyed all the remorse you felt. “If there’s anything else I’ve missed that I still need to apologize for, feel free to tell me. I’m ready to take responsibility for my mistakes.”

Sonny sat in silence for a beat, a solemn, unreadable expression on his face. You’d said your piece, and now you’ll have to live with the consequences. You held your breath and braced yourself for whatever he had to say next.

“…My hairbrush,” he said flatly. Unsure if you’d heard him correctly, you couldn’t help but give a confused look. “You took my hairbrush with you that night. My hair’s looked like crap ever since.”

You immediately burst out laughing, folding in half in your seat. He just wanted to hear you laugh again. It’d been so long since he’d heard your laugh. It was the most magical sound he’d ever heard.

“Well, I’m sorry for that, too,” you wheezed out as you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t take it on purpose. That was cruel and unusual punishment.”

Now it was Sonny’s turn to laugh. He chuckled so hard his sides began to hurt. Any tension between you had disappeared. For the past week, you felt like strangers. After all the heartbreak and turmoil, you could finally recognize each other again.

“Thank you, doll, for that very thoughtful apology,” he said once he composed himself. “I forgive you, and I wanna work on fixing us together. But first, it’s my turn to apologize.”

“No, you don’t, Sonny. You’ve already—”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “I don’t have a fancy list like you did, but I’ll try my best.”

You smirked and shook your head. He aways poked fun at your lists, and your lists for your lists. You sat back and gave him the floor.

“I’m so sorry I forgot our date. But more than that, I’m sorry for all the canceled dates before that. I know my job’s insane and keeps me away a lot, and you’ve been a saint to put up with me as long as you have. You’re my priority, and from now on, I’m gonna treat you as such.”

You felt a warm glow in your heart. Just a few words, and all the sadness from so many lonely nights seemed to fade away. You could’ve stopped him there, completely content with his apology. But you let him continue letting his feelings out.

“Also, I haven’t been the best at communicating either. I should not have lost my temper the way I did, or confronted you at work. I was angry and afraid, but I should’ve found a better way to express that. I’m gonna work on that.”

With each word he spoke, he could feel his soul getting lighter. Freeing himself of the guilt that had dominated him. And the gentle smile on your face told him that he was saying the right things.

“And with Rollins…you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You opened your mouth to interject, but he held his hand up to stop you. “I understand where the jealousy came from. I just wish you’d told me sooner. But you were right. There’s only so much I can do, and I’m gonna take a step back. I know we can’t just go back to how things were, but I’d like to start fresh and take things slow. I thought I’d lost you—” his voice cracked as he held back his tears.

You reached out your hand from across the bench. What was only a foot or two felt like miles. Like a bridge across stormy waters, bringing you back together. Deeply touched, he took your hand, comforted by the familiar fit in his. “You’re the best part of my life and I’ve been taking you for granted. Can you forgive me?”

You looked at him with adoration beaming from your eyes. “I already have.”

He squeezed your hand and gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “Y’know, if you still wanna walk away, now’s your last chance.” He wiped the last remaining tears from your face. “’Cause if you stay, I’m not letting you get away again. Ever.”

You turned your head to kiss his palm that was still lingering on your cheek. “No, Sonny, I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled and shook your head, sure in your decision. “There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.”

Sonny’s smile was so bright, it could’ve lit up Time Square itself. He pulled you close and wrapped you in an impossibly tight hug. You’d almost forgotten how it felt to be held by him. How warm and safe his arms felt.

“I love you, sunshine,” you murmured against his chest.

“Love you more, doll.” He took your face into his hands and gave you a gentle kiss. You threaded your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Everything and everyone else at the park that day completely faded away – there was just you and him. Goosebumps shot across your body as you got lost in the taste of each other. A kiss that felt as if it were months in the making.

The tender moment was rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, causing you both to giggle. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for the past week, and it seemed like your anxious tummy ache had abruptly disappeared. Sonny sat back so he could see you better. “How’s about we get something to eat? I believe I owe you dinner at a fancy restaurant.”

“Maybe another day,” you replied. “I’d rather go home together and have you cook us something. Is that okay?” Hearing you say that made Sonny teary. You said home. With him.

Together.

He grabbed your hand and kissed it with an enormous grin growing across his face. “That’s more than okay, doll.” With that, you got up and began your stroll through the park back to your apartment.

Back home.

When you arrived, you decided to jump in the shower while Sonny started dinner. He hadn’t been to the store for a couple of days, so it was slim pickings. He found half a carton of eggs and a small cut of pancetta in the back of the fridge. Carbonara it is, then.

He just finished frying the pancetta when you returned to the kitchen. When he turned around at the sound of your footsteps, he was stunned by what he saw. It was you wearing his ratty, gray Fordham hoodie. It was such a normal, everyday thing for you to be wearing. But in that moment, after all you’ve been through, the gesture meant the world to Sonny. He started to feel the cracks of his heart begin to heal.

“Everything okay?” You asked, a bit concerned by his dazed look.

“Yeah, everything’s perfect.”

Sonny plated the pasta, and you sat down for dinner at your tiny table. It felt like ages since you’d gotten to talk to each other. You explained how you wanted to start therapy to work on your self-esteem and conflict avoidance. You wanted to be the best version of yourself for both you and Sonny. He was very encouraging and proud of you for being willing to take that step.

Sonny talked about how he was seriously considering changing his career. “It just feels like the right time, y’know? I’m just worried I’d be letting everyone down. I mean, what if I suck as a lawyer?”

“Listen to me,” you sat your fork down and grabbed his hand. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re following your dream. Anyone who loves you knows that and will support you. Whether you’re a cop, a lawyer, or whatever, I’m gonna be here for you. And I’ll love you through it all. Even if you are a sucky lawyer.”

Sonny’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, and he tried to turn his head to disguise the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. You reached for his chin and gently turned his face back to give him a sweet kiss. “Through it all,” you reiterated. Your gaze briefly shifted from his face to the living room behind him, something seeming awry. “Did you move the bookcase?”

Sonny wasn’t sure what you were talking about until he remembered the hole in the wall the bookcase was now hiding. “Um…how ‘bout we talk about that tomorrow? I think we’ve had enough excitement for today.”

Well, now your interest was definitely piqued. But he was right. There was no need to solve everything in one day.

Once dishes were put away, you decided to turn in early. To say you were both exhausted was an understatement. Sonny crawled into bed behind you and curled his whole body around you. Arms, legs, and all completely cocooning you.

“Sunshine, I can’t breathe,” you eked out from between his arms.

“Well, I told you I wasn’t letting you get away again,” he nonchalantly replied, tightening his grasp around you. “This is your life, doll. Just accept it.”

You belly laughed so hard you would’ve fallen out of bed if Sonny hadn’t been holding you so tightly. “Oh, I have!” You get out in between your giggles. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”

And he believed you.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered as he kissed your cheek. “More than anything.”

“I love you more,” you quietly answered back.

“Not possible.”

Sonny nuzzled his head into the back of your neck, completely enveloped in the familiar, comforting scent of your hair. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest. The sound of your breathing lulled him to sleep—the best sleep he’d had in months.

You woke up to the sun creeping in through the curtains. You glanced over at your alarm clock to check the time. 9:45. You’d gotten a much-needed good night’s rest. Sonny, too. He was still knocked out beside you, lying on his stomach with his arms sprawled out in every which way. You couldn’t help but stare. His face was so serene. You could almost make out the faintest hint of a smile. It was such a rare sight to see him so peaceful.

Beginning to stir, Sonny rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “Enjoying the view, doll?” He called you out for staring. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

Your cheeks turned bright red, and you scooched closer to bury your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“I think it’s Sunday.” Sonny’s voice was still gravely from sleep. “We’ve got the whole day to ourselves. Whatcha wanna do, sweetheart?”

“Hmmm…” you briefly considered your options. “Well, staying in bed is tempting.”

“I could be convinced of that. That couch sure made me miss this old bed.”

You looked up at him confused. “The couch?”

“Yeah…” He gave you an embarrassed smile. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch the past couple nights.”

“Why would you do that? That couch is at least a foot too short you.”

“Wasn’t the same in here without you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re my home, doll.”

You’d never felt so in love with him as you did in that moment. ��And you’re mine.” You brushed back the hair stuck to his forehead and leaned up to kiss him. He tangled one of his hands in your hair as he caressed your back with the other. Home was the best way to describe how you felt.

You were both startled by Sonny’s work phone ringing. Groaning, you rolled away from him. So much for a Sunday in bed. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, getting up to make some coffee for him to take. But he grabbed your arm to stop you. He quickly checked his phone, then dismissed the call and turned it off.

“Don’t you need to answer that?” Sonny always answered his work phone. Night or day, whether he was on the clock or not.

He shrugged and shook his head. “Not my weekend on call. They can figure it out.”

“Sonny, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Pfft, they’re already short-staffed. What’re they gonna do? Fire me?” He poked your side, making you giggle. “Besides, I’ve got much more important things to worry about.”

“Such as?”

“Making sure my girlfriend is suitably cuddled.” He pulled you back onto his chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt so comfortable. You were fighting to stay awake, but the rhythm of his heartbeat was so calming, it was lulling you back to sleep.

“Just close your eyes, doll,” he said as he ran his hand up and down your spine.

“But I haven’t seen you in forever.” You let out a huge yawn. “I feel like if I close my eyes, you’ll disappear.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

After a few more beats, you did indeed fall back asleep. Sonny studied your face, memorizing each detail. Every wrinkle, every freckle committed to memory. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to get a second chance with you. Completely content with his life, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, assured he’d have plenty of tomorrows to spend with you.

[bow-of-aros]

What do you want, Pete?

I decided to just say fuck it and post this here in its entirety just for funsies :))

Summary:

What if the thing that Peter Spankoffski treasured most wasn't Stephanie Lauter, but instead his older brother who'd gone missing months ago?

Guys. I've gone literally insane over this series. Ted and Peter are so babygirl to me I love them so much. I just. ALDSJDKSJLDAJKSJK you know?? Anyway, enjoy this idea that took over my brain until I got it out!! <33

One of you must give up the thing you treasure above all else. 

Those words ring in Peter’s ears. Vaguely, he can hear Steph offer something with a very unpleased reception that makes him cringe out of some deep-seated survival instinct, and he feels fingers that are longer than they should be and uncannily boneless card through his hair.

“Steph?”

His voice reverberates through his head as though coming from underwater. His eyes land on the gun in her lap, and something in the back of his mind whispers danger!

It’s drowned out by the crash of memories that yell TED!

Ted Spankoffski, Pete’s older brother by over a decade and the only family member who’d ever bothered to give half a shit about him. Their parents had dropped Peter off at his doorstep at the ripe young age of six, right when they realized that a second child wasn’t going to be the thing that saved their failing marriage and fucked off to who knows where. The only contact he had with them was when they sent Ted money to put towards supporting a whole ass other person when he was just barely out of college.

Every time he met someone, they would raise their eyebrows and say, “Spankoffski? Like Ted Spankoffski?” and then pat him on the shoulder sympathetically when he said yes. Pete always had to push down the anger that threatened to bubble up because, yeah, Ted could be an asshole, but nobody even bothered to know him before making their fucking judgments.

Ted had had a shitty life, with the same shitty parents Peter had, and then had a child dumped on him before he’d even had the chance to properly figure out who he was.

By all accounts, Ted should’ve been an awful guardian, and it’s what everyone seemed to assume. But damn if he hadn’t done his best.

He’d driven Peter to school until he was old enough to take the bus on his own. He’d shown up to every science fair and asked a shitload of questions just to make Peter smile as he answered them. He dressed Peter up for every pointless graduation and cheered embarrassingly loudly when his little brother walked across the stage.

When Pete got older, Ted had been the person to cut his hair and take him shopping for new clothes when he first came out as trans. He’d sat the kid down and told him that he’d always have Ted, and always have a room in his apartment. Then, he’d added that if any of Peter’s dork-ass friends ever needed a place to crash, that the door was always open.

A few months ago, Ted had left mid-hookup with Charlotte Sweetly to pick up a bruised and bloodied Peter from school. He’d almost made it through the school day before bumping into Max Jägerman on the way out and Ted had made it across town in an amount of time that had to have been illegal. They’d spent the rest of the night after getting Pete patched up and sitting on the couch watching trashy TV, Ted muttering increasingly absurd threats of violence towards someone half his age the whole time until Peter finally cracked a smile.

The next morning, Peter Spankoffski had woken up, and his brother wasn’t there.

It wasn’t a big deal at first. Ted might’ve gone to work early (unlikely) or met up with a friend (what friend?). But, after hundreds of unread texts and unanswered calls, Peter asking anyone he could think of if they’d seen Ted to no avail, and waiting up every night until he passed out from sheer exhaustion, straining his ears for footsteps that never came, well…

It’s Hatchetfield. People go missing every day.

“Pete?” A hand on his shoulder ripped him back to the present, and Peter scrubbed away tears as he looked at Steph’s terrified face.

He turned his face away from her.

He blinked.

And he found himself looking into the glowing yellow eyes of the crazy-ass goat man who seemed to already know him. T’noy Karaxis, a voice whispered into his ear, a foreboding sense of familiarity washing over him, making his blood run cold.

The Lord in Black grinned impossibly wide at him, blue tongue lolling out and the stench of death radiating off of it.

“Hi Petey-pie!” It laughed, and the laugh grated against his hears for seconds and for eons, “I think that I know what you want~”

Its voice had a horrible sing-song quality to it, like someone who’s thrilled to know a secret that you don’t. The longer that Peter looked into its eyes, the harder his head pounded. Its rectangular pupils stretched far and wide, twisting into never-ending corridors that sent bursts of pain through him as his brain tried to wrap itself around the impossibilities.

“HEY!” The hand on his shoulder yanked him back, the paths of yellow fading as he saw Steph standing between him and that monster. “Leave him alone! What the fuck is your deal?!”

Its smile didn’t fade and Peter could feel its eyes burning into him even through the girl in front of him. The intensity only increased when he blinked to find Wiggly standing next to him, beaming with the sort of glee he would attribute to a kid on Christmas morning.

“Now, now,” He chided, “I’ve convinced my brother here to give up something very dear to him and it wouldn’t be nice if my little fwendy wend didn’t hear him out.”

Peter tried to smile reassuringly at Steph, but the It’s okay, I can do this that he’d wanted to convey had probably leaned more into Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Either way, she seemed to understand what he was getting at and stepped out of the way.

The second she did, a bright yellow flash blinded him. He could feel reality warp around him as the chilling screams from across hundreds of thousands of universes converged in this one fragile moment. When Peter opened his eyes again, blinking away the dots seared into his vision, what he saw nearly brought him to his knees.

Ted looked exactly as he did the last night they saw each other save for the tear tracks that streamed down his cheeks, soaking his shirt.

His brother looked up and a small gasp escaped his lips.

“Petey?”

Suddenly, this ritual meant nothing. The Lords in Black and Max Jägerman and this whole fucking town could go fuck themselves because Peter wasn’t alone anymore.

“Ted! Holy shit!” Neither of them mentioned how Peter’s voice cracked as he launched himself into his brother’s arms, sobbing into his chest as familiar arms wrapped around him and held him so tight he felt like he might explode. Finally, finally, he was safe.

“How touching.”

Except he wasn’t.

Their arms tightened impossibly more around each other as they looked up at Wiggly through teary eyes, clinging onto the flimsy hope that they wouldn’t be separated again if they could only will it hard enough.

Surprisingly, it was Ted who spoke first, “What the fuck do you want with my brother you sick fucks?! AM I NOT FUCKING ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

Wiggly didn’t bother to acknowledge the outburst, attention solely fixed on Peter, green light seeping out of him and into the teenager’s pores, filling every inch of him with a sense of wrong.

“This is the other option,” The Lord’s eyes shone as maliciousness seeped into its voice, “Tinky has enough Teds to last him a good, long while, but things will be a little empty without him there. So, if you want us to take Maxwell off your plate, you can trade him,” A crooked finger pointed at Steph, “for her.”

Immediately, Peter and Ted started talking over each other.

“What?! I don’t even know where he’s been—”

“She’s a fucking child you can’t put her in the Box—”

��SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Wiggly silenced them both. His wrathful tone is in stark contrast to the rest of the Lords grinning and dancing behind him.

He stared down at them, “Alright, let’s make this a little more interesting. If you don’t want to trade him in, you have to send him back. You need to say the words I condemn my big brother to an eternity of torture to save a girl who talked to me for the first time a few weeks ago.”

Wiggly’s arms were spread wide, palms up like a benevolent god, “Your choice, Peter. Of course,” He said, walking back over to Steph, “You won’t have to give up your brother if she puts a bullet through your skull. Just think, you could set your brother free, and you have options!”

A cacophony of laughter echoed through the gym, rattling their bones and reverberating against the crash of thunder that sounded outside.

“We’ll leave you to decide. Hopefully, Maxy doesn’t get you first!”

And then they vanish, but not without Tinky leering at the still entangled brothers and whispering Tick-fucking-tock.

Silence rings through the space, the only thing keeping Pete grounded being the warmth of his brother at his side. Steph is looking down at the gun in her trembling hands, tears slowly starting to drip from her eyes as Grace just stares down at the Black Book, blood drained from her face and seemingly catatonic.

“Pete. Petey.” Ted turns to look him in the eye and there’s something achingly different. Aside from the sliver of yellow that rings his pupils, they look so old and so scared. Like he’s been away for decades instead of months, seeing things no one should ever have to see.

And from what he’s heard, that might not be too far off.

Still, Ted pressed his lips into a firm line to steady his voice before saying, “You have to send me back. The Box is no place for a kid and you will not fucking die, do you hear me?!”

No matter how tight Ted is holding on, Peter can still feel how he’s shaking, can still hear the slight break in his voice as Ted’s eyes dart frantically across his face, drinking in the sight of the brother he thought he’d never see again.

“I can’t. I can’t.” He’s crying again, but Peter can’t be bothered to give a damn right now, “I love you. You’ve been gone for months and it’s been horrible. I can’t do this without you Teddy.”

Ted flinched at that, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath as emotions flickered across his face too quickly for Peter to decipher.

“I love you too, Pete. That’s why I can’t let you be fucking stupid, okay?!” Ted ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but you have to let me protect you. Send me back and never even think about the Lords in Black again, graduate high school and live your life and date Stephanie fucking Lauter.”

At her name, Peter’s eyes flickered up.

He looked at her.

He looked at the gun in her hands.

He looked back at his brother.

“You’ve protected me my whole life. It’s my fucking turn.”

Peter disentangled himself from Ted despite his frantic protests and ran up to Steph, wrapping his hands around hers and, subsequently, curling her fingers around the gun.

“Steph—” He was cut off almost immediately.

“No. Nonononono Pete I won’t. I can’t.” She pleaded with him, “Trade me in, I don’t have anything left here anymore. My dad’s dead, I never really had any friends, and any potential I had went down the gutter years ago."

Her gaze flickered over to Ted who was not-so-subtly trying to inch closer to Grace and the Book, much to Grace’s growing annoyance. “But you can get your brother back! I know how much you’ve missed him, how much he means to you. You’re going to make a real difference, Pete. You have shit to live for and I don’t.”

Ted was walking up to them now, having given up on Grace, and seeing how determined he was to keep them safe only solidified the decision he’d already made.

“Look. I’m not sending either of you into whatever Hell dimension Ted literally just got out of.” Peter turned to face them both, speaking fast and leaving no room for interruption, “I’ll let Max kill me before I do that to either of you. I’m dying either way, let me at least do something good with it.”

Something shifted in Steph’s face, a realization that Peter wouldn’t be swayed, and she nodded shakily as she adjusted her grip on the gun.

“Do it, Steph. Please.”

He took a few steps back, ignoring Ted’s desperate Nononono Petey you can’t fucking do this! He tried to rush forward, but Steph raised the gun and aimed it right at Peter’s forehead.

BANG!

A force knocked Peter down, sending him to the ground as pain exploded through the back of his head.

Wait. The back?

Peter fought through the swimming in his head to pry his eyes open just to see that what was weighing him down actually wasn’t the darkness coming to claim him.

It was Ted.

“Ow! Ow ow ow fucking OW!” Ted rolled off from on top of his younger brother, clutching at his shoulder, “Your aim is fucking shit, Lauter! Jesus Christ.”

Peter quickly scrambled to his knees, hovering over his brother who had just taken a bullet for him, tears welling up again for the millionth time, because apparently today was the day for it.

“Shit Ted!” He wasted no time in ripping off his sweater, leaving him in his white collared shirt, and pressing it to the rapidly bleeding wound in his shoulder, “You dumbass! What the fuck were you thinking?!”

And Ted laughed at him, “What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck were you thinking?! That bullet wasn’t even going to hit you in the head!” Peter pressed down a little harder and Ted hissed out a breath from between his teeth, “Holy shit being shot hurts more than I thought it was going to and I have had a lot of shit done to me.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“Well, well, well,” Thunder rumbled through the gym, seemingly disregarding trivial things like walls and ceilings in its volume, “Look at what we have here.”

“Oh God. He’s here.” Steph crowded up against Peter and Ted, shielding them with her body as Peter desperately tried to keep the pressure firm with his shaking hands.

“I didn’t know that there were two dork-ass Spankoffskis!” Max walked out from behind the bleachers, a mock pout sitting on his lips, “But I was really hoping that Steph was going to make my job a little easier and get rid of the little bitch. Too bad, now it looks like I get to kill two for the price of one!”

“But first,” His hand whipped out unnaturally fast, grabbing hold of Steph and throwing her off to the side, “I’m going to deal with you. You lured me to my death! You betrayed me, you fucking Judas!”

“Your brother’s going to be just fine, Peter.” The nurse looked down at him with sympathetic eyes as he hunched over Ted’s hospital bed in the uncomfortable plastic chair that seemed to be mandatory for some insane reason. “He got lucky and the bullet didn’t hit any major arteries. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. Take a shower, get a change of clothes, we’ll keep an eye on him until you get back.”

“So you do know the Bible!” Oh. So that’s where Grace went.

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

Even the thought of letting Ted out of his sight drenched him with fear, so he squeezed Ted’s hand tighter and said, “No, thank you. I think I’m going to stay here until he wakes up if that’s alright.”

For a brief second, Peter could’ve sworn that he saw a brief flash of annoyance accompanied by a yellow shine in his eyes before it was gone and an understanding grin took its place. It was so convincing that Peter almost started questioning whether he was losing it but, after everything he’d been through recently, he wasn’t going to be taking any chances.

The door swung open and in walked Steph wearing mismatched clothes from the lost and found and trying to dry off her damp hair.

“Hey, Pete.” She said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “He wake up yet?”

His eyes fell back onto his brother. Even asleep he looked exhausted, deep lines worried into his skin that hadn’t been there before. When was the last time he’d gotten some rest?

Peter shook off the question, adding it to the pile of shit he was going to be asking Ted when he woke up.

“No. Not yet.”

She pulled back with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Yeah, well, no offense Pete, but you fucking reek. I left a pile of clothes that I think might fit you on the chair, so please go take a quick shower. I don’t care if all you do is rinse yourself off, you have to do something.”

“But—” He didn’t get very far before Steph gathered his free hand in hers.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to him, okay?” Steph looked him in the eye, “Pete. I won’t even blink until you get back, I promise.”

And, you know what? He believed her.

Peter gathered up the clothes with a grateful smile and a quick glance at Ted who was still lying there, “I swear to God, Ted, if you’re not still here when I come back I am going to climb into that Box and kill you myself.”

The hospital walls were bright and seemingly endless and too close to the labyrinth he’d seen in that thing's eyes, so it was a relief when he turned into the washroom and locked himself into a shower stall.

There was a mirror in there and wow he looked like shit, no wonder people kept telling him to take a shower. But something was off, and as he looked a little closer, Peter realized that his eyes weren’t the usual brown.

Instead, they were a bright yellow.

His reflection grinned at him, and that stink of death roiled over him as it spoke.

“Just you wait, Petey-Pie! Soon, I’ll have you and my precious Teddy Bear back in my collection.” His skin started peeling from his face as his jaw stretched until it dislocated and then kept going until a long blue tongue spilled out, “Oh boy! We’re going to have so much fun.”

And then Peter blinked, and his own pale, terrified expression stared back at him again. Brown eyes and all.

The worst part was that he could still smell it. He must’ve taken the fastest shower of his life, scrubbing himself until he was nearly raw before throwing the clothes onto his still-soaked body and rushing back to Ted’s hospital room.

He crashed through the door, heart pounding, just to see Ted and Steph exactly where he’d left them.

Except, Ted looked over at him with a weak smile and Peter nearly collapsed in relief.

His brother extended an arm in invitation and Peter basically dove into the bed beside him, holding on tight and telling his racing heart to calm the fuck down because Ted was here.

“Hey, Petey.”

Ah, shit. More tears. Because of fucking course there would be.

Peter managed a wobbly grin because everything was finally as it should be and said, “Hey, Ted.”

It was a nice moment until Steph cleared her throat a little pointedly, causing both Spankoffski’s to jolt guiltily.

“Jeez, Pete.” Ted jostled him a bit, mindful of his healing shoulder, “You’re a terrible fucking host. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

Peter went to sit up, and Ted’s arm tightened instinctively before letting him go, even though they didn’t fully break contact. “Yeah. Yeah! Uh, Ted, this is Steph.” Steph waved with a fond smile on her face, “And Steph, this is my brother, Ted.”

Ted reached out with his good hand, “Nice to meet you. Kind of insane that my brother managed to pull someone so far out of his league, but you’ve got a good guy on your hands.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Steph had to raise her voice to be heard over Peter’s groan, “And I know, Mr. Spankoffski, I’m just happy that he decided to give me a chance.”

“Oh God, kid, don’t call me that. My name’s Ted.”

As Peter listened to them talk, he laid his head on his brother’s chest, revelling in them all being alive. As sleep overtook him, the melodic harmonies of Ted’s heartbeat and the clock on the wall settled within him. A promise that they would make it through.

Thump-thump.

Tick. Tock.

[obsidiancreates]

Memory In The Froglight

(Shared Souls AU is back babey)

Shepherd shakes his head. “This is gonna be a fuckin’ disaster.”

“I can’t watch.” Felix pulls his hat down over his eyes. “Poor guy never gets a break.”

“Whattya talkin’ about?” Skrimm is perched up on Torbek’s shoulder, mimicking a preparatory neck rub. Torbek feels nothing, of course, nor hears. “He’s gonna kill it!”

“The crowd?” Marius eyes Skrimm’s proximity to the Witchlight canisters.

“Not the crowd, sheesh, are you ever not a downer?” Skrimm nudges nothing but air with his elbow– the habits of Life, where he would have someone for the joke to either land or fall flat with, still a part of him even after all this time. “He’s gonna do great! It’s in his soul!”

“Skrimm.” Shepherd knocks his hat brim up with one knuckle. “I know you ain’t the most attentive–”

“Nor clear-minded,” Marius mutters.

“Or intellectual,” Felix shrugs. 

“All I’m sayin’ is,” Shepherd says, “Torbek ain’t great with crowds.”

“And? I’m tellin’ ya, this guy has a showman somewhere deep down in there!”

“You’re just saying that because you two sound most alike,” Marius says, quirking an eyebrow.

“When you get stressed your voice fully turns into his,” Felix adds, gesturing at Torbek.

“Which means the opposite can also happen. He can have my lovely and beautiful voice if he tries.”

The other three share skeptical looks just as a bullywug pops in with offers of Song Syrup.

“Don’t need it,” Skrimm says confidently.

“Take two,” Felix says.

Torbek hears nothing. “Torbek is beyond help.”

“Killed by a hag over a theatre play.” Marius’s expression is sour. “I’m still unconvinced that we didn’t fall back into Druskenwald.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Uh, just a word of waaarning, remember that nothing rhymes with orange, purple, or silver. Don’t fall for that trap twice, Torbek!”

“Orange? What about uh, doorhinge?”

“That’s-that’s a cheap cop-out. Get outta here, Frost.”

“HA! Look at that, he’s learning!” Skrimm claps his hands together and then rubs them in preparation. “He’s got this!”

“Did either of you know Skrimm had such a… fondness, for Theatre?” Marius asks his companions.

Shepherd shrugs. “Makes enough sense I suppose…”

“Skrimm.” Felix can’t remember the last time he provided this much input on one of Skrimm’s… episodes? Moments of enthusiasm? Manic switch-ups from despair to optimism? “Do you have a background in this kind of thing?”

“You kiddin’? My friends and I put on the best play Drakkar has ever seen! No-one has topped it in the last thousand years, I’m sure of it.”

“Y’all put on a play… in Drakkar.” Shepherd crosses his arms. “Is this like how you’re sure you were six-foot-five and two hundred pounds before yer death?”

“This is way more real- I mean, I was, but that’s not the point! I was Mr. Bones, and I was so professional it’d blow your ass right off your body!”

The three others share skeptical glances again.

“Just watch!” Skrimm scrambles back as the curtain rises. “Torbek’s got that skill, I can feel it in my bones!”

Felix sighs deeply. “You don’t have bones anymore.”

“My ghost bones.”

“... Sure.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So did it just fix his tone-deafness, or did it actually change Frost’s voice?” Felix watches from where he sits on the bottom of the box-tower as Torbek waits to be rolled onto the stage.

Shepherd shrugs, and Marius shakes his head, unknowing.

“Ah.” Skrimm has his arms crossed, one foot tap-tap-tapping so quickly that if he was physical he’d be wearing a hole into the soggy wood of the floor. “Maybe the big guy should’ve taken one of those. I mean I still think he’s got this but, that was pretty damn good. Stupid cat.”

The tower is rolled out, the tiny curtain covering Torbek’s face parted. His ever-present and ever-imperceptible spirit companions wait with baited breath. 

“Uuuunnnnggggghhhhh, it’s Torbek’s time to shi-ine!”

“Not a promising start,” Marius whispers. “Please let him do well enough to live…”

“Torbek is playing Princess Torbeka toniiight!”

“Oh, phew.” Skrimm wipes his brow. “Good thing he remembered to tell the crowd who he is! Heh, that was almost a terrible misstep.”

“Almost?!” Felix brings his hat low over his eyes, unable to watch.

Torbek brings out a tiny tin whistle and blows a single note. “Torbek Torbek Torbek, Torbek

Torbek Torbek!”

“Ain’t you supposed to do them warmups offstage?” Shepherd looks at Skrimm, who’s just nodding in invisible encouragement.

“What? No, ya take your script out there with you, you do your warmups, you embody your character! Me and my friends did our whole play without any rehearsal! Total dry ru– … Mostly dry. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Torbek takes a deep breath. Everyone but Skrimm braces.

“... Miiidnight, not a sound from the paaavement, has the moon lost her mem-ry, Torbeka’s smiling a-lone…”

In the wings, Frost’s jaw is dropped wide open, and Felix, Shepherd, and Marius are hardly different. Skrimm, however, whoops and jups as high as his little goblin legs allow, swinging a celebratory fist in front of him.

“In the lamp-light the withered leave, collect at her feeeeet… and the wind, begins to moan…”

“He’s got… range.” Marius blinks in pure befuddlement. 

“Where’d all his gargglin’ an’ rasp go?” Shepherd walks up, unseen as he is by the audience, and peers at the Witchlight canisters sticking out from Torbek’s princess costume. “These ain’t lowered…”

“I’m tellin’ ya, goblins are made for theatre,” Skrimm boasts, scrambling up Torbek’s back and sitting between his shoulders triumphantly. “I was the only one who stayed on script the whole time! Even when it was weird and perverted and definitely not me misunderstanding what pump meant.”

“What?”

“Forget it.”

Torbek takes a deep breath. “Mem-ry, all alone in the mooooonlight! Torbeka dreams of the old days, life was beau-tiful theeen…”

A pang of grief and nostalgia strikes the hearts of all in the theatre, living and dead. Shepherd looks towards Gricko, no, around Gricko, wondering what Sarnax must be thinking of this play his… ward, of sorts, has written. Marius looks to Frost, wondering how Lethica’s voice might sound singing a tune such as Torbek sings now. Felix can’t see Kremy, backstage somewhere preparing for his own part, but he imagines Toa is away from Kremy’s side to watch the show, smiling wide. 

Skrimm looks out at the living vessels his friends all follow, and hopes they’re remembering their play too. It was a mess, a haphazard disaster thrown together in the ruins of a beautiful and warm lethal lie turned to rubble– and it was the most fun they’d had in months by that time.

“Let the mem-ry, live a-gaiiiin.”

As long as Torbek has a better understanding of the intent of the stage directions than Skrimm did, this might shape up to be even better than Ogreton’s Last Play.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wow, Jornir!” Toa nudges the firbolg next to him, applauding for no-one but his ghostly companions. “Isn’t this play great so far?”

“It is… certainly better than what we did.” 

“You did a play too?! I wish we could’ve done a play. Someday when we all reunite, let’s all put one on together.”

“That would be… very crowded.” Jornir watches Torbek cover his mouth with exaggerated shock as Hootsie pulls out the red scarves tied around rat snacks from the snake costumes. He gestures to Torbek. “That, makes it easy to see Skrimm, in the bugbear.”

“The overractin’?” Briggsy laughs a little to himself, having only Clayton to elbow for his ‘get-the-joke?’ movement as Clayton watches with more Confusion than anything else.

“Yes.” 

“Oh. … No fun when you agree, you know.”

“I am not trying to be… fun. You are right. Skrimm is… animated. Loud, and… bold. I did not think, I would see it here, in this life.” Jornir… smiles, just slightly, barely enough to tell. “It is… nice, to remember.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“AYE, GOOD JOB LADS!” Barnabos cheers and pulls Jericho and Sarnax into one-armed hugs, pressing both to his side as he bellows proudly. “LOOK AT OUR MR. GRIMGRIN! HA-HA, AS FINE AS A TALE AS TROTHACK SHARK-PUNCHER’S SEVEN VOYAGES!” 

“I-I do like the jaunty tunes!” Jericho’s fingers move like they would if he was playing his banjo along with the pit orchestra. “And everyone’s singin’ real nice! I never did hear Sir Marius or-or Lethica carryin’ a tune!”

“Nor I, Shepherd.” Sarnax’s tail comes up to slap Barnabos’s shoulder, in reminder more than annoyance, and Barnabos loosens his grip for Sarnax to slip out. “I wonder how he is feeling, watching this unfold.”

“Aye, not the kind of travels for singin’, you two had.” Barnabos laughs, pointing at Torbek. “An’ look at that! That’s a Mr. Stabbaskotch expression if I’ve ever seen one! Some of us migh’ bleed through to the living after all!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy is laughing, leaning on Lethica as she watches the tube-sock-costumes Kremy, Gricko, and Gideon all “disemboweled” by Sir Morgo Hootise as Torbeka watches in shock. The silent shaking sets off Caprice as well, who’d gone from despaired horror to elation as soon as Frost’s song-syruped voice had melted the tension of the audience with it’s shocking beauty. 

Lethica is not mirthless herself, imagining Marius in Torbek’s place, and when Daisy raises her hands for a moment to sign “He looks just like Skrimm,” she knows she’s not the only one picturing another life, another time.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taishen is laughing well, but there’s a hint of worry to his expression as he eyes Torbek.

“Is something wrong?” Yorgrim casts a careful eye of his own over the crowds. 

“Oh, nothing… too, terrible.” Taishen shuffles his feet. “Its just, Torbek is reminding me quite a lot of Skrimm right now, not with the singing Skrimm couldn’t sing that well, but well, when we did our play things went a little…”

Yorgrim waits as Taishen looks in the distance, trying to find a careful way to phrase things.

“... Skrimm was very confused, about some things.” Taishen shivers. “Very, very confused. And Torbek isn’t a stranger to… confusion…”

“... Did someone die?”

Taishen thinks back to how he’d felt towards Skrimm in that moment of revelation. “... Almost.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Least Kremy’s stickin’ to the script.” Queenie stands on top of Twig’s hat to have a good view of the play from the wings. “Jornir sure didn’.”

“I thought you were all stranded in an icy wasteland,” Iris looks down at Queenie, even with Queenie standing on Twig’s head.

“Yeah but we did a play anyway, for the ogres.” Queenie looks at Torbek. “Skrimm probably did the best up until he had to pump his fist.”

“Pump his fist?”

“Yeah, he thought it meant pumpin’ his pe–”

“Eugh!”

“Do they really think this will work?” Strahdanya looks up to the hag in the box. “If they send Twig to us early…”

“I’m sure if she dies, they died hours ago,” Queenie says. “She’s a tough one.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Torbek sings his second song about the (allegedly) murdered Agdon Longscarf, Skrimm grins smugly down at the other three from atop Torbek’s back. “Told you he’d do well.”

“I hate when he’s right,” Felix huffs.

Marius nods in agreement. “A thankfully rare occasion.”

Shepherd snorts, watching Torbek finish up as Skrimm starts to huff and puff at Marius’s insult. The applause of the crowd drowns out the offended shouting of the goblin as Torbek steps back from the spotlight. Maybe things might work out for this band of chucklefucks after all.

[throneofsapphics]

i LOVE your angsty poly!rowaelin x reader fics

can i request more? i will gobble up anything you write not even kidding 💕

some questions are better left alone

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part two) (part three)

Summary: He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?” 

Warnings: Angst, drinking, nightmares, small injury, rowan is mean

Word Count: ~5k 

A/N: You are so sweet! I swear, angst is my love language. Reader is from a foreign court/country, has magic, and is able to mindspeak - I kept it a bit vague!

I scribbled the note, leaving it on my desk in my room. Going out. Not very descriptive, but I was in a rush, I’d forgotten what night it was, and I’d promised a friend I’d meet them - some bard was coming through. 

My mates weren’t opposed to me having friends. They knew I did, I just kept them separated, tried to keep a life separate from the castle. 

Maybe I should’ve left a better note, because a certain Wolf showed up halfway through. I caught a whiff of his scent - fresh too, and I knew he was in the damn tavern. But - I didn’t know if he’d come alone or come after me. 

“I’ll be right back.” I leaned in, whispering to my friend, and keeping my voice low. I slid through the crowd with ease. I spotted him in a shadowy corner, leaning up against the wall. I dropped the glamor after I got within a few feet of him. His eyes glinted, a smirk crossing his face. He had come here after me, and waited for me to track him down. I let out a long breath, but stood next to him. His eyes were constantly scanning the crowd. 

“Why are you here?” I kept my voice low enough that only he could hear me. 

“Enjoying the songs, of course.” His voice was honeyed with false innocence, and I could tell he was messing with me. 

“You missed the one about you.” 

“Shame. Which one?” 

I groaned. “I’m not playing into your ego.” 

“Pity, maybe I should’ve let them see your note.” 

“What’s wrong with my note?” My voice went taut. “And why were you in my rooms?” 

“Two words.” He tutted. 

“I was in a rush.” I hissed, then he handed me the paper. He took it. “You bastard.” I snarled. 

“Calm your tits.” He laughed, “I left a better one - ‘taking Y/N out to have fun for once.’” 

“Thank you.” I said, begrudgingly. He did save me some grief. A lot of grief now that I think about it. 

“I am a bit hurt you left without me. Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” A shark-like grin appeared on his face. 

“Are you going to play nice?” I countered, crossing my arms. 

“Me? I’m always nice.” He scoffed. “Besides, I’m your best friend in this world. I have a right to know your other ones.” I rolled my eyes, even though the statement warmed my heart - just a bit. 

“Alright. Best friend.” I teased, “Are you going to scare them off?” 

“Do your mates know about them?” 

“Yes.” I sighed. 

“And who your mates are?” 

“Indeed.” I fought back my annoyance. 

“They’re not scared?” He raised his eyebrows. Any sane person would be intimidated by the Queen and King of Terrasen. 

“I won’t let their majesties anywhere near them.” He chuckled, but I could tell he understood. I wasn’t ashamed of my friends, not by any means, but if either of my mates somehow thought they were a threat … it would make things very difficult. I pushed off the wall, and led him back through the crowd. I reached our booth, about halfway down the wall and with a good view of the stage, and dropped it. Instead of two benches, it was rounded, one long bench around a circular table. Cian, Isla, Effie, and Arran. To their credit, they only gaped for a few seconds, before shuffling around to make room for both of us. I scooched in, and let Fenrys sit next to me. 

I gestured towards each of them, “Effie, Arran, Isla, Cian,” And then towards Fenrys. I was halfway tempted to introduce him as ‘pain in my ass,’ or ‘bastard’, but I went for something that would piss him off more. “Lord Moonbeam.” I bit my lip as he stomped on my foot.

“Please don’t call me that. It’s Fenrys.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Isla squeaked, her face bright red. The others echoed the sentiment, but thankfully not looking at him like he’s a God. I saw the way he was eyeing her, 

Are you really going to bed my friends? I said in his mind, a bit louder than necessary. 

Why would you deny them a good time? 

I swear to the Gods Fenrys. 

Calm your tits. 

That’s twice you’ve mentioned my tits. Should Aelin be worried? 

Don’t you dare. He growled, but didn’t use that phrase again. 

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he got along well with them. He charmed them easily - none of the bitter bastard I’m used to. He and Isla, to my chagrin, got along very well. I didn’t move to interrupt or interfere, even though I wanted to keep them as far away from each other as possible. They could be cute together, but I had a feeling Fenrys was toying with her - flirting for fun. Maybe she was doing the same. I didn’t know her that well, after all, only meeting her a few weeks ago. 

A few hours later, and after several drinking contests, I was feeling very tipsy. Maybe even drunk. Definitely drunk based on how the room spun. But, with a glamor firmly in place, I’d managed to drink a group of soldiers under the table. Where are they from? I have no idea. But every time one started to eye me in a more-than-friendly way, they seemed to pale, and look away very quickly. It took me a few times to figure out Fenrys was glaring daggers at them. I stomped on his foot. 

“Leave them alone.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look. “They don’t deserve you looking like you’ll murder them.” 

“You’re not doing anything.” He countered. 

“I am ignoring them.” I emphasized. “And that works well enough.” 

Effie returned, sliding a goblet across the table towards me. Fenrys snatched it before I could, and took a sip. He nearly spit it out, his face turning red, and shoved it back at me. “What is that?” He coughed. 

“Apparently something too strong for your delicate sensibilities.” I took a large sip, enjoying the warmth it provided as the liquid burned, sliding down my throat. 

He gaped at me - but I kept drinking it anyway. 

“It’s a homemade liquor.” Effie replied instead. He grimaced, staring at my glass like it might jump out and attack him. “It grows on you.” She added, biting back a laugh at his expression. 

I finished it, and stood to bring it back up to the bar, but swayed slightly on my feet. Before I could grip the table, Fenrys’s arm shot out to steady me. 

“We’re going home.” He stood. 

“You don’t get to make my decisions.” 

Effie grabbed the glass from my hands. “It’s almost closing anyways.” 

“Traitor.” I mumbled. The others had left ten minutes ago. 

Effie lived above the bar - how we met in the first place. “Go home.” She ordered instead, giving Fenrys a look. One that said - get her home safe, like I needed a minder. 

He only laughed and looped an arm through mine, half-dragging me out the door. 

“You’re not nearly as drunk as me.” I complained, disentangling my arm once we’d left the building. I watched my feet carefully on the cobblestones. 

“I didn’t beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“So that’s who they were.” I mumbled, and apparently wasn’t paying attention, because I walked right into a column. 

“Fuck.” I muttered, stumbling backwards and pressing a hand against my face. My cheekbone will be bruised. Fenrys grabbed me under my arms before I could fall, and howled. 

“Asshole.” I muttered, shaking off his grip. He looped his arm through mine, and didn’t let me wiggle out this time. Thankfully, we were almost to the gates and Fenrys quit singing. I tugged my hood up as we got closer to the castle. Nobody needs to know just how drunk I am. 

“They’ll see you stumbling.” He drawled. 

“They’ll know to mind their business.” I snipped back at him. 

“Oooh. Someone’s not looking forward to seeing their mates.” He teased me, his voice a sing-song. I sent a vulgar gesture his way, and he just snorted, dragging me through the halls and depositing me at their door. I waited until he’d walked away before heading to my rooms instead, no sense in waking them up. Besides, on the nights I go out I usually sleep in my own rooms anyways, wanting to wash the alcohol off - and Aelin and Rowan need time alone. They don’t say it, but they were a couple long before me. Maybe I’m assuming things. I’m too drunk to think too much. 

-

Normally Y/N stays in her rooms if she’s gone out, and they won’t argue or try to drag her into their rooms. If she needs space, they’ll let her have it. 

But, tonight, Rowan had a feeling. A feeling he needed to be there. To see her. Like something might be wrong. He slipped out of bed, looking at the clock. Three hours past midnight. She should be back by now. 

“Rowan?” Aelin mumbled sleepily, her eyes opening. 

“I’m going to check on Y/N.” 

Those turquoise eyes opened further. “I’ll come with you.” She yawned. He didn’t fight his wife as she climbed out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it around herself. They moved quickly and silently, through the passage that connects both of their rooms. 

He slowly pushed the door open. Asleep, sprawled out on her side, on the couch. 

Safe - but a giant blue bruise blooming on her cheek. And absolutely reeking of alcohol. Did she get into some sort of brawl? He’d kill Fenrys. Slowly. Aelin placed a hand on his arm, but he could tell she was just as angry. 

-

“Y/N.” A voice murmured, and I felt a hand running down my arm. A mumbled, some intelligible noise. 

“Y/N. Wake up.” The voice, feminine, was more insistent. Aelin. Why was Aelin in here?. 

-

Her eyes opened, glassy, pupils slightly dilated. Drunk. And very drunk. How fucking much did she drink? Y/N could almost drink Aelin under the table. 

“Petal.” His mate's voice was low. “Did you get in a fight?” 

“A what?” She was confused. 

“Did you get in a rutting brawl?” I said from the door, not bothering to keep my voice low. Aelin turned and glared at me. 

“What?” 

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb.” 

Her hand went up to her cheek, wincing, and she threw her head back in laughter, nearly howling. “I walked into a pillar.” She said in between laughs.” 

Aelin was biting back a laugh, but I was just getting more pissed. Maybe it was a bit funny - but she was drunk enough she got herself hurt. 

“Where was Fenrys?” My sharp tone had Aelin cutting a look at me. Don’t start.  

“Caught me before I could hit the ground.” Her words slurred together. 

“Come on.” Aelin tugged at her arm, pulling her up. “I’m not going to let you choke on your own vomit.” 

She looked offended. “I am not throwing up.” The words came out very insistent. Aelin gave her a bemused smile, but pulled her up anyway, leading her towards her bathroom. “You reek.” She told her.

“That is rude.” Y/N stuck her tongue out. 

I rolled my eyes, but followed them, grabbing a nightgown for Y/N to put on. 

“What do I smell like?” She asked Aelin, stumbling next to her. Aelin’s arm wrapped around her waist holding her closely. 

“Right now? Alcohol.” 

Y/n let out an over dramatic sigh. “No, what’s my scent? You’re jasmine and lemon verbena, and he’s pine and snow.” 

“Nutmeg and honey.” I answered from behind her, and her head turned, giving me a goofy smile. 

“That’s nice.” She mumbled. I fought the smile threatening to form on my face.  

-

Aelin was very sweet, helping me get in the tub, even washing me. I tried to stop her, but she cut me a glare. A nasty one. After that I let her. 

“Who did you go see?” She asked, scrubbing my shoulders. 

“Some Bard came into town.” I said, before sighing. Her touch feels incredible. “You have magic fingers.” I told her. 

Her eyes crinkled, “and you’re drunk.” 

“Maybe a bit. Fenrys told me I beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.” 

“The Bane?” Rowan’s voice came from the door. Low. And deadly low. 

“That’s what he said.” I confirmed, looking at Aelin instead, who pressed her lips in a tight line. “What’s wrong with the bane?” 

“They have a reputation.” 

“I have a reputation.” I exclaimed. 

“Excuse me?” Her voice grew a bit shrill. 

“I drank half of them under the table.” 

“Right.” She breathed out. 

-

She thought Rowan was going to explode when he heard her say she has a reputation. He relaxed - barely. He needed something to do or he might blow up. 

“Rowan get a towel.” I ordered without looking, and heard him moving around, before the soft fabric was pressed in my hands. “Help her out.” 

“I don’t nee-” I pressed my finger to her lips. It’ll help him. I told her, speaking mind to mind. 

Okay. Her sweet voice floated through my mind. 

Even though anger rolled from him in waves, his hands were gentle as he lifted her out, holding her steady. I wordlessly handed him the towel, and gave him the chance to fuss, slipping a nightgown over her - one he’d already picked out. He went far enough to make her clean her mouth, and dried her hair for her. That brought a smile to my lips. 

“Thank you.” She told him after, and me. 

She tried to wobble off towards her bed, her legs shaky under her. I cut her off before she could reach the door. “You’re coming with us.” 

“But it’s your-” 

“No buts.” But … What was she going to say? Before ‘it’s your-’ 

“It’s our what?” Rowan asked for me. 

She frowned. “Your night. For the two of you.” 

I frowned, looking at Rowan. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” When she’s more likely to remember it. He added to me. 

“Nothing to talk about.” She mumbled, but let him pick her up, carrying her back to our room. 

-

I groaned as the morning light hit me, streaming through the windows. My head started absolutely pounding. “Gods.” I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes - like I might shove the headache away. A rough hand tugged one of mine away, pressing a glass vial into it. I peeked the free eye open, squinting to see Rowan. 

“I’m surprised.” I murmured. A pain tonic. “Thank you.” 

“We need to talk.” He grunted. “And I don’t want to deal with your whining.” Several months ago, I might’ve been hurt by the comment, but I was used to it by now, and ignored the second part, swigging the slightly vile liquid down. Fighting back the urge to make a face. 

“One day I’ll figure out how to make those taste better.” I glared at the offending piece of glass. Rowan snatched it out of my hands. 

“Lets go.” He jerked his head. 

“Alright alright.” That’s when I felt the heat on my face. I looked across in the mirror. A large purple bruise bloomed across my feet. “What did I do?” My eyes were wide. 

“You don’t remember?” He snorted, and left the room. 

“Bastard.” I muttered under my breath, low enough he wouldn’t hear, and grabbed a robe before following him. “What did I do last night?” I repeated, walking into the sitting room and digging through my mind for what the hell might’ve happened. 

He didn’t answer, pouring tea instead. “Where’s Aelin?” I tried. 

“Training.” He said curtly. 

“Rowan.” I said quietly. “What happened?” My memories cut off right before leaving the Tavern. 

He shoved the cup in my hands, watching and waiting for me to take a sip. I did, and waited for him to respond. 

“What do you remember?” He questioned, his voice was cold - usually meaning I’m about to be extensively lectured or punished for something. 

“Up until leaving, with Fenrys.” He can almost always tell when I’m lying. 

“You hurt yourself. Walking into a pillar.” 

I sucked my lips in, fighting the urge to laugh. “Of course I did.” I choked out. 

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny. What if Fenrys wasn’t with you?” 

“I have other friends.” I countered, crossing my arms. 

“Who we’ve never met.” His words came out flat. Emotionless. 

“Would you like to meet them?” I said, feeling a bit on edge. “Do you not trust me to be a good judge of character?” That wasn’t exactly fair … but I didn’t and don’t need them to approve of my friends. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He growled. “Are you embarrassed by us? Do you not want them to know you’re with us?” 

Cruel. He was playing dirty. “Of course not. They know” I kept my voice calm. 

“Then why?” 

“You never asked.” I countered. It’s true. 

“You never asked to meet our friends, and we introduced you.” 

My breaths got heavier. This wasn’t fair, that’s not the same thing. “When you introduced me, I was just a member of a foreign court, a delegate.” 

He stalked up to me, standing so close that if I took a deep breath, my breasts would brush against him. “Was? Aren’t you still just a member of that court?” His voice was taunting, and cruel. Absolutely cruel. He meant for his words to hurt, and I could feel the slight satisfaction running through him when it did, but it was quickly pushed out by regret. 

“Maybe I am, and maybe it’s time I go home for a bit.” Silver might’ve lined my eyes, but I hit right back. I turned sharply on my heel, walking silently towards my rooms, out the main door. I didn’t look back as I closed it softly, a slight click. 

He didn’t follow, and maybe that’s what hurt the most. 

I collapsed on my bed, my knees pressing into my elbows, my head held in my hands, trying to figure out what about last night set him off. Made him so angry he’d say those things. Not that I acted much better. 

I wanted him to follow me. To tell me not to go - or to yell at me. Something. I paced for the better part of an hour, before deciding to go back. Porting off back home wouldn’t do anything, it would just make things worse. 

I took the direct passage this time, hearing another door creak open at the same time as mine. Rowan looked directly at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” The same cruel tone as earlier. Maybe I imagined that regret. I couldn’t say anything, or my voice might’ve broken. I took a step back, closing the door. 

I heard Aelin’s voice, “gone where?” But I’d already turned, heading back. “Rowan. What did you do?” 

Is this what the rest of my life will be like? Cruel barbs, hurtful words from both sides. A traitorous thought ran through my mind, why couldn’t it just be Aelin? But I dismissed that immediately. I couldn’t imagine not having both of them, not having two mates. It would be wrong, it wouldn’t feel complete. But for them - they could imagine it, they’ve lived it, and likely were perfectly fine before I came along. The two of them fit. Balanced each other perfectly. 

Am I some kind of wrench thrown in? A piece being forced into a puzzle, one that doesn’t quite fit? I’ve heard of mating bonds being rejected before. Ours is already sealed but … Even thinking about it brings a sharp pain in my chest. Gods they’re already a part of me, dug in so deep it would take something horrible and cataclysmic to drive me away from them. 

I hadn’t told them I loved them. They hadn’t told me. A final barrier that hasn’t been crossed. 

-

I sought out Fenrys around lunch, convincing him to come eat with me in my rooms. He seemed wary, considering this is definitely out-of-character for me.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, shoving a tart in his mouth. 

“What were Rowan and Aelin like before me?” 

He choked slightly, coughing into his hand, but finishing the food. I watched him intently. I needed to know. Had to know. 

“Fine. They were fine, at least it seemed that way.” He stared back at me. “What are you thinking?” 

“I’m an outsider.” I started. He gave me a look that said, no shit. “I don’t … I don’t know if I belong here.” 

“I was an outsider.” Fenrys leaned back. “You know I’m from Doranelle. It was difficult at first, but I found my place.” He spit out the country’s name, like it was poison. 

“You rejected Doranelle.” 

“I did.” He nodded, his tone cautious, like he knew where I was headed. 

“I don’t reject my home.” 

“You can belong to more than one place.” He argued. 

“But me being here is causing an issue.” 

“Rowan and Aelin fought. Still fight sometimes. Does that mean they don’t belong together?” Fenrys is more perceptive than people give him credit for.

“They’re different.” 

“How?” He sounded a bit exasperated. 

“Because they share bonds together I never will.” That truth finally came out. “And if there was a situation they had to …” My voice broke. 

He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?” 

I nodded. A warning - if those questions were brought up … the results that come out might cause irreparable damage. Sometimes those things are better left swallowed. At the same time, I want to know my place with them. We ate in silence for a few minutes before the door breezed open. Aelin, I’d know the jasmine and lemon verbena anywhere. 

“Really?” She sighed, “Choosing that dog over me?” 

“I wasn’t aware there was a choice.” She raised an eyebrow, but sat next to me, grabbing some sweets. 

“You always have the best sweets.” She popped a truffle in her mouth, moaning. 

“And you always raid my collection.” 

“They’re bought on Crown gold.” She winked. Fenrys winced across from me, the action thankfully going unnoticed by Aelin, who had her eyes closed. 

I didn’t reply, but drank some water instead, the chocolates suddenly seemed unappetizing. “I do keep them just for you.” I covered smoothly. She placed a grateful kiss on my cheek, before turning, throwing her legs over my lap and lounging on the couch. I absentmindedly rubbed circles into her calves. 

“I heard you beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest. Aedion is ashamed. I’m quite proud.” She grinned. 

“Are you complimenting someone else's drinking prowess?” Fenrys looked amused, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee. 

“I’m giving credit where credit is due.” 

“Very kind of you.” I kept a smile. A forced one, and kept rubbing circles into her legs. Where credit is due. Drinker, bed warmer, what else? Aelin seemed to notice the shift, because she kicked Fenrys out, he left with a tight glance between the two of us, but no complaints. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She nudged my thigh with her toe. 

I flinched slightly. “A bit homesick.” Close enough. 

“Rowan told me about that.” I could see the bored expression on her face from the corner of my eyes. She’s keeping a tight lid on her emotions. 

“I sometimes say things I regret.” Regretting something doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. 

“We all do.” I could hear the same echo, doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Ask the damn question Y/N. I chided myself, I can’t put words into her mouth. “Did he mean it?” The words came out quickly. 

“Isn’t that a question you should ask him?” 

She has a point, so I countered with something I should ask her. “How do you feel about it? Both things.” Please don’t make me repeat them. I pleaded to her silently. She took some pity on me. 

“I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends, but I understand we can be … intimidating. But I don’t know if you’re keeping them from us because of that, or if you’re scared we’ll drive one of them off.” I waited for her to continue. There wasn’t technically a question there. “Do you want to be a member of this court? Would that mean you’re choosing?” 

Choosing. Right. Absolute loyalty - something I can’t promise. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” 

“You’re our mate.” She said softly. “And you have your place here.” 

“Are you telling me to know my place?” Maybe that wasn’t fair. 

“I didn’t say that.” She said sharply. But you didn’t not say it. Gods I wanted to hear all of the things that weren’t said, but I wanted them to soothe me. I don’t want the truth right now. I want sweet things meant to make me feel better. I’d even take little lies over these tiny cracks I’m feeling. The faltering, the hesitation. “Are you having trouble adjusting?” 

“Aelin it’s been nearly two years.” 

“And we’re immortal.” 

“I’ve found a life here.” We’re both skilled at non-answers. I still hadn’t looked at her, couldn’t meet her gaze. Around her, and him, my eyes tend to show everything. A wall I can’t seem to put up. 

“Look at me.” Kind, but unyielding. I do. 

-

Tears are threatening to flood down her face, I can see it. I can’t help but think maybe she’s being a bit oversensitive. I’ve seen her in her own court .. well, the one she doesn’t really claim. Tough love? Or soft? 

“Was it better without me?” 

Oh Gods I did not expect that. I moved fast, tugging her to straddle my lap. “Don’t ever say that.” My voice was harsh, my hand gripping her chin, making sure she looked directly at me. “Did we make you feel that way?” 

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, I just noticed it was bloodied and bruised - like she’d been biting on it all day. “I don’t know how much of it is just in my head.” So we did make her feel like that, at least partially. 

“We can’t reassure you or fix ridiculous notions if you don’t tell us.” 

She laughed darkly, pushing my hand away from her face, and turning her head. “That’s part of the problem. They’re ridiculous to you.” I wrenched her head back to face me. 

“Don’t look away from me.” I snarled, holding her even when she flinched. “They are ridiculous, even if you believe them. We weren’t better off without you. You’re a wonderful part of us, part of us we didn’t know was there. Just like we’re a part of you. You belong with us.” I emphasized. “Come to us when you feel this way. Let us fix it.” 

“There isn’t anything to fix.” Her eyes kept steady on mine, although I could see her temptation to look away. 

“Then tell me exactly what’s been running through your head.” She swallowed harshly. “You either know it’s wrong, or you’re scared to bring it up.” Her eyes gave it away. Both. 

“Can we talk about this later?” She pleaded, breaking eye contact, her bottom lip quivering.

“Look at me.” I gritted my teeth, and she did. The vulnerability in her eyes made me sigh. “Promise you’ll actually talk about it.” 

I watched her hesitate, but she did promise. 

-

Falling asleep was uncomfortable. There was a tension drifting between the three of us, but I didn’t feel like talking about it yet, and they respected that. Barely, I could see both of them aching to have the conversation - to get it out of the way, but I needed time to gather my thoughts. A night to sleep on it. 

Eventually we did drift off to sleep. 

“Leave.” Rowan said harshly, his face set in a nasty look. One I’d only seen him give to people who were rude to Aelin or I. What did I do? 

“Leave.” Aelin repeated his words with that same look. It was unnatural, it wasn’t them. 

“But-” 

“Now.” He growled, taking a menacing step towards me. 

Another voice came from behind me. “I lied, they were better without you.” I whirled around. Fenrys. The look, they all had the same one.

“I can be better.” I stuttered through the words. 

“You don’t get it.” Aelin laughed harshly. “We don’t want you.” 

Rowan shoved me through the gates, just a bag in my hands. “Step foot in Terrasen again, and you’re dead.” 

They slammed shut in front of me. 

“No, no, no, no.” I whispered, tears running down my face, my entire body shaking.

“Y/N.” A disembodied voice said, repeatedly. 

“It’s a dream.” My eyes flew open, I felt magic flooding around me. A hand rubbed my back. “Breathe, breathe darling.” Aelin’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. A dream, it was a nightmare. 

I heard Rowan, his voice strained. “Bring your magic back in. Call it back to you.” 

I did, and it came back joyfully, swirling against the shield of wind holding it in, with teasing pokes, before flying back into me, and the room was encased in moonlight. 

“Gods, I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Please, don’t be. I’ve burned several bed sheets before.” Her voice was light, a smile on her face. “Besides, your magic isn’t scary, it’s quite beautiful actually.” I could feel her magic bubbling, wanting out to play, mine reacted in kind. 

“Tomorrow.” Rowan said, and we turned in sync to glare at him. The serious look on his face remained, and Aelin huffed before tugging me into her arms - pointedly leaving him out. 

[katstarry]

anything

eddie munson x reader

masterlist ☆

summary: moments shared with eddie throughout your friendship, up until his death.

warnings: ANGST! 😱 mentions of death.

guys i haven’t written in a while and this song has been on repeat this week so this is just something i had an idea of so i’m sorry if it sucks!!! hope u enjoy :)

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

inspired by anything by adrianne lenker!

it was a summer day and you had just graduated high school.

the day was sunny and hot—a perfect day for going to the local pool.

eddie and you agreed to meet there, it was his idea, wanting to spend some time with you after the ceremony before you had to celebrate with your family.

this would be his second time not graduating.

“eddie don’t beat yourself up over this, i’m sure that next year you’ll be walking that stage. and i’ll be there cheering you on.”

as you both make your way to the pool entrance, he looks over with you with an eyebrow raised.

“don’t give me that look! i mean it.” you give him a playful shove.

“mrs. o’donnell is always on my ass, i doubt that’ll change next year,” he sighed, “plus, it’ll be less fun without you there.”

he wraps an arm over your shoulders as you both make your way to a pair of empty chairs, settling your belongings down onto them.

you had brought some sliced fruit, drinks, sunscreen, and of course a towel.

“y’know i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, we can still see each other as much as we want this summer.” you finish putting down your things and sit on the edge of the chair, applying on sunscreen.

you look over at eddie who’s on his own chair beside your own, “yeah, but what if you change your mind about staying in hawkins? you should be doing bigger things than staying in this dump.”

he looks away from you and leans his head back onto the chair, playing with a strand of hair.

meanwhile, you open the container you had brought with the sliced fruit, eat a piece of apple, and pass the container to eddie. the thought of leaving hawkins was constant, who wouldn’t want to leave after seeing the things that you’ve seen? yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, one of the reasons being right beside you.

“i’ll just study here at the community college, see where that takes me. then, who knows what’ll happen?”

leaning back onto your own chair, you look over at eddie. his hair has begun to stick onto his skin from the heat, his loose shirt slightly slipping from his shoulder, the sunlight shining just right, enough for him to look as if he’s glowing.

he turns to look at you, smiling, “you’ll be out in some big city, doing whatever the hell you want! maybe we could even be roommates, like we’ve talked about.”

he grabs a piece of mango and takes a bite, excess juice dripping.

you smile, “yeah that’d be really nice. but for right now, i’m happy where i’m at.”

that year during the end of summer and towards the end of fall, you had your first boyfriend.

the relationship was not super long, and it never felt like there was much progress. he’d take you out to dates, he’d do everything right.

yet there was no true connection. it’s something you realize after the break up. you’d call each other—but no conversation ever had much depth.

but, when you were both together physically, you felt comfortable, you felt wanted. the cuddling, the kissing, you loved all of the relationship related things, and it made you believe you did love him.

it came crashing down when you saw him out with another girl, you were walking out a local coffee shop with robin when you spotted him. his arm linked with hers, no shame as he leaned over to kiss her, smiling.

it’s what lead you breaking down later that day in eddie’s trailer.

you had planned hanging out with him anyways. your now ex knew about your close friendship with eddie and he never seemed to really care. you realize that he never really cared about many things.

trying to act casual after your discovery and confrontation, you should’ve known better. eddie could see right through your act. be it the way you seemed less talkative, less enthusiastic, he knew something was up. he somehow always does.

he was telling a joke, trying to make you feel better—and you love his jokes, even if they’re the cringiest or stupidest ever, you always laugh or make some sarcastic remark—when he finishes telling his joke, you laughed, which made him smile.

both sitting on the couch, he laid his arm behind where you sat, pulling one of his legs up and turning to face you.

“sooo.. you wanna talk about it?”

you turn to him, your face written with confusion, “talk about what?”

“something’s obviously bothering you. and iiii do not like that.” he tilted his head, softly smiling.

“ah, how did you know?” you give him a small smile and look up to his ceiling, letting your head hit the cushions of the couch.

you see him shrug his shoulders from the corner of your eye, “i just know.”

the tears start to form before you even register it happening, and you tell him what happened.

and he’s there, like he always is. he holds you, let’s you cry to him about your ex. not knowing how much he hurts seeing you like this over a douchebag who didn’t deserve you to begin with.

he rubs your back, attempting to calm you down. you hadn’t realized you were clinging onto him, you pull back and just opt to laying your head onto his shoulder, a few start tears falling. he wipes them away and you close your eyes, feeling his hands soothe you.

that’s when you knew.

it all happened too quick, so suddenly.

one moment you were at the basket ball game, cheering lucas on.

the next eddie was on the run for supposed murder.

and now he was laying in front of you, on the ground.

dustin was kneeled with you, but the ringing in your ears blocking everything else out. all you could see was blood and all you could hear was your ragged breathing.

soon, your vision became blurry, tears clouding your vision. in one quick moment, you were back to the present. a shout. someone was yelling, you look in front of you and you see dustin crying, eddie on his lap.

you reach for eddie’s hand, intertwining it with your own, the other wiping tears away from his face. it was now your turn to wipe away his tears, but you would’ve preferred it to be over some girl, rather than it be because of what’s to come.

his hand is already startling cold, yet you still feel him tighten his hold on you.

“eddie, you gotta keep breathing alright? we’re gonna get you out of here. dustin! we have to get him out of here!” you look over at dustin, who heard you and you both move to get up, but eddie stops you both.

“no. no—” he momentarily chokes on his own blood that gathered in his mouth. he doesn’t let go of your hand and grabs dustin’s before he could get up.

“what do you mean no?!” you cry, moving to get up again.

“s-stop! there’s no,” he gulps, “no way i’ll be able to—” he coughs, blood splattering as he does so, you use the sleeve of your shirt to shakily clean his chin, “make it.”

he looks at you, and that’s when you see. that’s when you see he’s not changing his mind, he’s not going to let you and dustin pull him back.

a part of you knows, the logical part of you, that he won’t be able to make it. that it’ll be too late by the time you pull him back home.

so you cry, you cling to him. dustin cradles eddie’s head on his lap once again, you both cling to him.

“please. please don’t.” you say between sobs, your head on his chest, his heart beat still present, your hand still in his.

he doesn’t reply, he can’t. blood blocks him from saying anything else, so he brings your intertwined hands shakily up to his lips, kissing your hand. you bring your head up to look at him, and that’s when you knew.

that’s when you knew, everything was reciprocated. you don’t know how, but you did.

you both just know each other too well, but apparently not this.

he looked at you and attempted to smile, the three of you crying. already grieving what’s to come and what could’ve been.

you shake your head, “this isn’t fair! you never should’ve been a part of any of this mess! i—i tried so hard, so hard to keep you away from all of this. but it wasn’t enough.”

laying your head back onto his chest, you feel his free hand move to your back. the familiar feeling of him soothing you, rubbing your back, making you cry harder.

then suddenly, it all stopped.

it’s like time stopped all at once.

the movements on your back were gone, the soft heartbeat had stopped.

you could’ve sworn that in that moment, yours had too.

[armandisdaddy]

Siren Pt.2-Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Fem Reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen(Bass Player) x Fem Reader (Lead Singer)

Word Count: 2.3k

Content/Warning: !!🔞PLUS!!, Smut, P in V penetration, Spanking, Ass-play Virginity loss, Ass-Licking, Choking, Balcony, Grinding, Exhibitionism, Degredation and Fluff/Aftercare.

Author’s Notes: Now I know I’ve used “The Summoning” by Sleep Token for inspiration for another fan-fiction of mine (Taste of the Divine). But since I’ve heard this song and recently rewatched HOTD I cannot let go of the fact that this song fits Aemond so well. So I’m using it again for this, in my mind it definitely fits better in this scenario so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh he has a bit of an ass fetish…

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the HOTD characters nor the song being used. They are used only for creative purposes.

After the bands opening night and the events that transpired later on Y/N was conflicted. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him or that she didn’t like him. But one thing about band romances is they hardly ever end well and nothing but drama replaces what once was love. They were now touring in Europe; London, England to be exact. Y/N and the crew were riding on their tour bus to their destination. Aegon, Tommy(electric guitar player), their back up singers and Y/N were up front either sleep, on their phones, or singing. Aemond was in his room, he had isolated himself from the group when he did what he did and hadn’t spoken to Y/N since. He was ashamed of himself, he’d never done something so irrational, but she…she did something to him and brought something almost primal out of him.

He figured she’d never want to speak to him again and awaited the worst to come when or if she decided to tell the rest of their bandmates what happened. He decided to finish a song him and the band had record without Y/N. It was actually written for her, but he’d never admit it. Without warning a knock was heard at his door. “Come in..” And in she came slowly finding a place to stand as awkward as it was. “So I wanted to talk about what happened the other night. Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t just come into my room do… those things to me and then pretend I don’t exist.” She was frustrated for several reasons one of them being that she had been try to get that high feeling again and failed miserably every time. The other because she thought he used her for his own pleasure and basically threw her away like some old toy.

She got slightly distracted hearing the song playing and it sounded really good. “Wait who is that singing?” She wondered he sounded familiar and then it finally came to her. “Aemond…that’s you..” he sighed softly closing his laptop and turning to face her completely. “Yeah…me and Aegon were just fucking around. It’s nothing serious…and to answer your question I’ve been avoiding you because I took things too far with you. I should’ve never touched you in that way and you were intoxicated it was shitty of me and I’m sorry. You didn’t speak to me after that night and I just assumed I had gotten the wrong idea.” She huffed and sat at the corner of his bed trying to find the words to say. “I…I wasn’t mad at you…I just…you..you made me feel something I’ve never experienced before and I didn’t know how to say I want more or tell you I like you back.”

“Wait you like me back? So why the fuck did you tell Aegon the kiss between us on stage meant nothing?” She rolled her eyes and sighed laying back on his bed. “Because I didn’t think you liked me and because I know how band relationships end. They are never a good idea to get into…it just makes everything else difficult.” He listened attentively placing a calloused hand on her thigh squeezing softly before he climbed on top of her to give her a kiss.

“Band or no band you’re stuck with me you know that right? And you had Instagram and Twitter going crazy with that kiss. They’ve been what’s the word stanning over us ever since.”She pulled him in making his lips crash into her, but they were quickly interrupted, when Aegon came crashing through the door, eavesdropping obviously. She ducked and rolled off the bed running back to the front of the bus with everyone else. “Hey Bro, Y/N? What the fuck were y’all doing in here?” He mocked them with kissing and moaning sounds laughing at their obvious embarrassment.

It seemed like the bus ride dragged on for hours and finally they were here at the venue and Y/N was super excited for tonight she had something very special planned for tonight’s performance. As usual the concert goers can rushing in, the place was sold out and every seat was filled. This was going to be perfect she thought. She walked out on stage as usual relishing the chants and cheers as her band played behind her. She raised her hand signaling them to stop and she looked to Aemond with a grin on her face. “So everyone I’m sure you all know Aemond. The best damn bass player in King’s Landing!!!”

They all cheered and she laughed calming them to let her speak. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you and him too. I just learned on my way here that he is multitalented and him and the band recorded a song. And I’ve only heard a few seconds of it so this will be a first for me and you all. So..without further ado, I welcome to the stage Aemond Targaryen!!!!” The crowd went wild chanting his name and he looked to her in horror she walked to him and placed her hands in his ear whispering. “Your going to do great babe.” She kissed his cheek moving in his spot so that he may take hers.

He stood in the spotlight the light was blinding, but he put on a brave face for her and flashed a smile to the crowd. Aegon signaled the group with the clicks of his drumsticks and they began to play and a voice almost angelic left his lips. Leaving Y/N in awe.

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

A taste of the divine

You've got my body, flesh and bone, yeah

The sky above, the Earth below

Raise me up again

Take me past the edge

I want to see the other side

See the other side

The crowd loved every second and still he left Y/N speechless. She had heard him messing around before, but she never thought such a beautiful sound could come from him until now. She felt herself being taken away with the music. Is this what love felt like she thought. He looked back to her and she sang background vocal improvising and he winked at her looking back to the crowd as he continued. His mind filled with thoughts of nothing but her as he sang. Calling to her the way his heart did so silently. The songs tone switched and there was a breakdown she had not expected. He walked toward her with his mic in hand and Vhagar on the side of his waist gripping at her hips and pulling her close.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cut me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

You've got my body, flesh and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

She shuttered feeling his fingers trailing up and down her spine. He pressed his forehead to hers, chest to chest. Her heart skipped, his lips hovering over hers. He pulled away leaving her wanting. She was unbelievably turned on and it was easy to tell. Her pale cheeks were a rich red and her legs rubbed together trying to find some form of friction. He passed the mic to her kissing her forehead before scooting her back into the limelight where she belonged.

Tonight was another successful performance their were already headlines about the two of them from TMZ to MTV. They were sleeping at a hotel tonight due to their fans stalking the tour bus. Y/N gave him her room key and she went up to take a well needed shower. He let himself in and heard the shower running. He found himself looking around the large room. Checking out the large terrace that was attached to her room. A rather tantalizing idea popped into his head. Shortly after she returned from the shower wearing a crop top and black shorts that stop right above the cuff of her cheeks.

He moved in his seat pulling at his pants trying to remain calm, but she made it oh so hard to. He stood to his feet, seeming to levitate toward her. His hands found their place into the dips of her waist. Pulling her into him. “I should have my way with you for that little stunt you pulled, my little siren.” She blushed biting into her rosy bottom lip. She needed to stop before he devoured her very being. “You tease me and your not even trying. Can you feel what you do to me?” He groaned pressing his sweat pants covered hard on against her hip.

His hands slid into the back of her shorts gripping on her round flesh growling at how well it filled his hands. “Perfect..” He spoke in a hushed tone pulling away to look into her eyes. Her eyes low and filled with lust. His lips crashed into hers and she moaned into his mouth, practically melting into his arms. He picked her up by her ass cheeks and carried her out to the terrace where a table and two chair sat. He sat down with her straddling his lap. “I want you to rub your pussy against my dick.” She looked at him with embarrassed expression. “Out here?” He hummed. “Mhmm…” He positioned her perfectly pulling the back of her shorts down to cuff under her cheek. His hungry hands kneeling them like dough. Pushing and pulling them apart the cool air hitting her skin.

Soon she began bucking her hips against him his cock rubbing against her sensitive clit. His left arm wrapping around her to pull her against him and his right laying harsh smacks against her plump ass. She whimpered and moaned, the red tint flushing to her welting skin. He moaned at the sight and bit into her neck; pumping up into her hips. He spanked her until she was sore and sat her on the table pulling her shorts off the rest of the way. The cool feel of the table caused her to shiver.

He looked to her sweetly before flipping her so she stood on all fours and he stayed in his seat. He smiled at the view spreading her cheeks apart seeing the delicate pink flesh of her pussy glistening from the light hitting her slick. He licked his lips like he was starving. But that tight hole of hers was what he really wanted. He buried his face between her ass and his tongue lapped over the tight flesh of her ass her back arched involuntarily. His eyes rolled at the taste of her. She gasped and moaned holding onto the edges of the table his tongue greedily lapping at her ass and dipping into pussy every now and then.

“Gods…you taste so good..” he cooed as she mewled from the sudden suction of her clit. He smacked her ass again letting his thumb rub against the rim around her asshole. While he looked back at the mess she was already making. “Your such a dirty little slut aren’t you? You’re making quite a mess on this table I wonder if anyone can hear you.” He smiled wickedly and turned her to face him. He stood in between her legs pulling his cock from his pants letting the thick head rub between the slit of her gorgeous cunny.

She writhed in pleasure seeing her like this drove him insane he couldn’t take much more. “Are you ready, my love?” She nodded sweetly. “Please, Aemond…I need it…” she whined and he smiled kissing her to dull the pain as he prodded at her entrance slowly letting it give way around him. He buried his head into her neck and gasped. “You feel amazing, little siren.” He stayed still letting her adjust to his length and girth which was above average. She felt like she was going to break, she need him deeper. “M..More…” he looked into her eyes..”More? Well aren’t you greedy are sure you can handle more?” He laced his fingers around her throat giving her the right amount of pressure before he filled her completely.

She winced but moaned her eyes rolling back. “Good girl you take me so well..” He began his assault pumping into her mercilessly her pussy gripping him like a vice with each pull. “Oh fuck..Aemond…” She called out his name like he always imagined. Was this dream? It couldn’t be it felt too real; too good. “That’s it baby let me make you feel good, baby girl. Let the world hear how good I make you feel.”

She grunted like an animal nails digging into his back the knot in her stomach tightening. She was so close to her release, but he popped her thigh denying her of it. “Please, I can’t hold on anymore..” He hushed her “Just a little longer I want us to cum together.” He continued hitting that spongy spot the drove her crazy, feeling her legs trembling uncontrollably. “Come baby cum on my dick, give it to me.” She screamed creaming all over his dick smearing it with her arousal his seed spilled instantly inside her.

The rode out their orgasms and he carried her inside. He showered with her a got her dressed in a large t shirt leaving soft kisses along her lips and neck. He carried her to bed and they spooned for the remainder of the night until they fell asleep.

To be continued…

@pet1t3 @proudlittlewitchbitch @xlaurenlintonx @jadianasithandjedi @ellxpsismm @chainsawangel @aemondslefteyeball @baebunnyxo @ammo23 @valeskafics @boundlessfantasy

[the0retically]

Statement of Timothy Rand

I’m definitely not done with it (and still gotta go through and edit what I do have) but if people want to see the start of it here’s the beginning part of the tma/bitb crossover I was thinking about. The premise is Rand is giving a statement about the events that happened in Galloway, but he did lose his sanity so things are a little Funky for him. It’s written in transcript style so there’s lines for him and then stage directions for background noise and some movement, anywho ramble over lol if y’all want to read it’s below the cut!

Statement of Timothy Rand regarding his experience with The Hive in Galloway, Louisiana.

[Click of a tape recorder, can hear the whirring of the tape throughout the following. Otherwise it is a quiet room. There is a sigh from the person in the room.]

Rand: So just, talk into this thing? Ok, guess that’ll work…Fuck, man, how do I even start? Uh, I guess it started with my sister, Rachel. She was always the best of us. Shining star. You know she could’ve been something. Done something good? Man, I don’t know. She was kind though. A pain in my ass, but she had a kind heart. God knows if I was the one that went missing instead of her then maybe this all wouldn’t have happened. I mean, would anyone even notice a burnt out loser like me going missing? Probably not. If they did, they would’ve said “it was only a matter of time” or some bullshit like that. But no, Rachel went missing and I was the one that never left. At least that's what John kept saying. Maybe if Rachel was around she could’ve done something more to fix everything before it led to…well all that. But, can’t change what happened. Even though it was my fault that she never made it home, I should’ve been there for her, I should’ve—fuck.

[Sound of rustling, pulling out a cigarette, and a lighter flicks open to light it. Lighter and pack can be heard being stuffed back into his pocket and there’s the sound of a cigarette burning followed by some coughing before it eases. He takes a couple drags from the cigarette which can be heard throughout the following. The tape whirs on.]

Rand: My sister went missing and then things were never the same. John was at work all hours, Ma tried her best, she really did, but I certainly didn’t make it easy for her. Then Kian and Rolan left town. After graduation, they couldn’t stay or whatever. Fuck if I know. Kian had a plan to become a big time rockstar, travel the world, perform in big ole Hollywood. He was always larger than life like that. Talking about his big plans and dreams. Never really expected him to ever come back.

[Rand pauses, takes another drag from the cigarette. There is some static noise in the background that slowly grows, nothing distracting, but it’s definitely there. The tapes whirs on. The following is said quieter.]

Rand: Rolan fucked off to Chicago and became a hotshot lawyer…he didn’t come home for ten years. I never saw him until they both came back to town. Surprised they even agreed to it.

[Rand scoffs, clears his throat, and continues. The static is more present. The tape whirs on.]

[tothemeadow]

Commissioned by anonymous

Rengoku Shinjuro x (Male) Reader

With a life full of hardships and never truly knowing "peace", maybe it's about time for Shinjuro to truly let go.

warnings: NSFW, Shinjuro's alcoholism and depression, hair pulling, some humiliation, lol he's a bottom, age gap

notes: just some angst and Shinjuro getting it up the butt, modern AU where demons are still a thing, written from a past tense and then in present

words: 2.1k

-

Rengoku Shinjuro, by all means, is not the soft, compliant type.

No, throughout his years, it’s always been Rengoku, do this or Rengoku, do that. Hailing from such a prestigious family, he’s never been granted a true taste of freedom, a true taste of himself. Ever since he was young, he’s been subjected to harsh training and grueling lectures of how terrible the real world is. For centuries, the Rengoku name has been a stone in the demon slaying world, and – quite literally – a pillar for others to look up to.

His personality became sour as thus. He was lucky enough to score himself such an incredible wife (at least that’s what the others whispered behind his back). Even more, that very wife bore two heirs. The Rengoku bloodline has never given birth to females; they always relied on outside sources to keep that pure bloodline flowing, to keep the locks of flames and sunburst eyes carrying from generation to generation.

Shinjuro should’ve been happy. He had a beautiful wife, a set of boys, was alive.

But.

And that’s what it is, the but that comes with everything in life.

He would never grow to know true peace. His sons, also born in this cruel, cruel world, wouldn’t be able to dream of it. They are Rengoku’s, after all, and they’d be damned if they didn’t carry on the tradition of their ancestors.

His bitterness only grew when Ruka, his beloved, passed. His sorrows could only be drowned out by limitless booze, the pain in his heart much too suffocating for him to bear. It didn’t take long after that for him to rid himself of the Flame Hashira title and close himself in from the world. He was no longer Rengoku Shinjuro, whoever the hell that even was. He was only the husk of a man, the pathetic wick left behind from a burned-out candle.

Drinking became Shinjuro’s new passion. The bottle became his best friend. His fist rarely became lonely, knuckles long gone white from the ceaseless clasp. Both of his sons became strangers, struggling to withstand the man their father had become. The eldest, Kyojuro, eventually took his brother away, the two of them moving in with Uzui-sama, the smug bastard.

Things had never been easy. Not when he was a child, and certainly not when he grew into adulthood.

The strong pillar of a man became nothing more than a pile of rubble.

It began with a single drink and a prolonged stare.

Shinjuro (unsurprisingly) frequented many bars, usually too stir-crazy to stick with one for too long. It was only when he found a hole-in-the-wall that he finally settled, decided that this was it.

He’d spent too many nights staring into the bottom of empty glasses, wondering if he would pass out in the bathroom and never get up again. Perhaps someone would start a fight and try to swing a stool at his head – no, that wouldn’t work, he’d been beaten up by too many god-forbidden creatures for a stool to do any real damage.

Needless to say, when the bartender silently placed another glass of his go-to before him, Shinjuro was surprised. Normally, he would signal for another round with a grunt or a slew of drunken words. The bartender only gave him half a smile, his head jerking to the other side of the bar. Shinjuro’s eyes merely followed, a strong brow quirking up his forehead.

Hah.

You were just some punk ass kid, most likely the same age as his son. Granted, he kept his hair long, but that was about it when it came to feminine qualities. Thick hair, though blond, covered the entirety of his arms and chest, and his face was in a constant stage of stubble. Shinjuro knew he wasn’t a looker. Why had you looked at him from everyone else in the bar, he couldn’t possibly fathom. He figured it had to deal with the dim lighting.

But no, you took that glance as the greenlight and hopped from your stool, scurrying your way to where Shinjuro sat. You gave a simple May I?, body hesitant and eyes hopeful. Frankly, Shinjuro couldn’t care. A free drink was a free drink and if he was lucky enough, he would forget all about this encounter anyway.

Or so he hoped.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment, you were trying to crack jokes and butter him up with saccharine words; the next, he was flat on his back on his mattress, in his home, with you in between his legs. Your pants were hot and heavy in his ear, lips skimming the stubble adorning his jaw as your cock pounded in and out of him.

Shinjuro would never.

He wasn’t the kind to lay dormant and let others take control of the reins. He was a Rengoku, for fuck’s sake. He used to be a goddamn Hashira. He’s a man, not some broken down little whore who’s prying for attention or money or-

And then he came, all hot and thick, coating his abs in a sticky feeling he’s not used to. His mind cleared, heartbeat shuddered, back ached – he’s not cut out for this shit.

But.

It’s always the fucking buts that come with life.

A good lay is a good lay, and god knew how long it’s been since Shinjuro had one of those.

Getting drunk is all that mattered, no matter the method.

­“I need you to relax, love,” you breathe into his ear.

A shiver ripples down Shinjuro’s spine. A shaky sigh graces the air as he snuggles further into the pillow. Splayed out on his stomach, Shinjuro’s completely at your mercy; you straddle his behind, hands slick with oil as they rub and dig into the many knots throughout his back. Unlike you, Shinjuro is bare naked. Your clothed groin grinds into the split of his cheeks, just barely a chub.

Glancing over his shoulder, Shinjuro catches the quick glint of the band encircling your finger. Heart leaping to his throat, his insides squeeze as water gathers in his eyes (it might be because of the particularly deep knot you’re pressing at, but still.)

The universe… finally decided he deserved a break.

After that fateful encounter that night (and the back-breaking sex), you somehow… got into Shinjuro’s good graces. You made breakfast for him the next morning, rubbed his sore muscles, joked about his bedhead and morning breath… It was so domestic. It had been too long since another soul had graced his home, and it was almost too overwhelming…

A date led to another, sex became a regular thing, and Shinjuro found that he enjoyed letting loose and having someone else take hold of the reins. There wasn’t any Rengoku, do this! screaming in his ears, only your gentle tone telling him to take it deeper and praising him for being such a good boy.

It didn’t take long for you to ask for his hand in marriage. For one, Shinjuro never dreamed of remarrying, much less to a person of the same sex. Two, for that someone to be just as kind and gentle as Ruka was, only to totally switch sides behind closed doors, was something else entirely. Shinjuro never pictured himself as the type to be physically or romantically involved with another man, but life had other plans.

“You’re tensing up,” you murmur, your voice stirring him away from his thoughts. You place a kiss to his spine. “What are you thinking about?”

What did I do to deserve this?

It’s not like Shinjuro is a kind man. He did his job, put another generation of Rengoku’s into the world, then sank into a depressed stupor full of alcohol when he couldn’t find the will to live anymore. So what did the universe see in him? What did you see in him?

“Shinjuro, answer me.” Your voice, although soft, carries a harsh undertone.

“I’m a piece of shit,” Shinjuro grunts. It’s all too easy to see your displeased expression in his peripheral.

“We’ve talked about this,” you tell him.

And yeah, you did. He came clean about his trauma, about the demons plaguing the world, his dead wife, his estranged sons. You had some daddy issues of your own (surprise). The two of you were floating in dead space, drifting with the passing days. It was sort of a miracle when you two met.

“I know,” is all Shinjuro says, the words dissipating into a sigh.

Scooching off from his bottom, you easily push the muscular, hairy thighs apart and settle in between. Slicking up your thumb with more oil, you press the digit between his cheeks, slowly caressing the pursed hole.

“Obviously, we have to go over it again,” you tell him. “Tell me why I love you.”

Heat floods to Shinjuro’s face. Mind you, he never blushes. He stares hard at the wall across from him, thankful for the pillow smooshing the other side of his face. He knows he should answer. Last time he disobeyed, you bent him over your knee like a bratty child and spanked him until the skin matched the red in his hair. He almost craves for you to be rough with him, to put him in his place.

“I’m the father you always wanted to fuck.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke. Humor has never been Shinjuro’s strong suit. He does, however, receive a light swat against his behind in warning.

“Horrible answer. Try again.”

He grunts when you grasp onto a meaty asscheek, your hand roughly kneading it. Your thumb barely presses against his hole.

“Brat,” Shinjuro mutters. How ironic. If anyone is the brat in this relationship, it’s him. “Husband loves my physique, the hair on my chest, my ass-“ he wiggles his butt as he says this, “-and how I’m such a good boy.”

You reply with a snort. “Wouldn’t kill you to indulge me a little…”

A groan gets bit short when you abruptly grasp onto the loose strands of blond hair and yank. Shinjuro’s head cranes backwards, his neck screaming from the effort. Hot kisses land on his spine, the thumb encircling his hole dipping in slightly. Easing out and in, you tease him slowly, relishing in his heavy breaths and foggy eyes.

His cock stirs; Shinjuro wastes no time grinding it into the mattress, knees and hips raising to meet your touch. Hardened nipples graze the sheets, his heavy tits heaving with each ragged pant. It takes practically no effort anymore to get him stirred up, to have him hungry for your cock.

“My big, muscular boy,” you say, teeth skimming along the line of his spine, “so desperate to be fucked like a whore. Is this what a fall from grace looks like? To be on your hands and knees, waiting for someone to belittle you and make you theirs?”

Your dominance is unlike anything Shinjuro has ever seen. Usually, you’re all soft words and warm hands, willing to help him with anything. A perfect little househusband, you told him once, a giggle hanging from your lips. Someone to be there when you need them most.

But this…. This is something else.

You grope at the muscles of his back, his ass, his tits – you leave nothing untouched, besides his cock. A hand keeps his hips steady as you slip your cock inside, the hot resistance clasping down in a vice-like grip. Shinjuro moans weakly into the pillow, precum leaking from his neglected cock. You waste no time pulling back and snapping your hips into him, cock plunging in to the hilt. Your balls slap heavily against his ass, fingers moving from spreading his cheeks further apart to pulling at his hair.

“Mine,” you hiss into his ear, but then follow up with a quick kiss. “So soft, compliant… What a spectacle you are. I bet no one would ever have guessed that the former Flame Hashira would like getting cock so much…”

Blood thunders in his ears. With a slight whimper, Shinjuro buries his face in the pillow, shame and arousal making his skin simmer and cock leak like a faucet.

“Ah, ah, ah, honey, don’t hide your face, it’s just us here,” you say, tone switching to something buttery smooth and sweet. Your actions clearly contradict your words; you snatch his head back with a firm grasp, fingernails grazing against his skull. Your cockhead attacks his prostate with a deadly precision. Soon, Shinjuro is nearly sobbing, mouth lax and fingers clenching onto the sheets.

You fuck him to completion, his eyes rolling back in his skull as his balls pull tight and he cums in several long, drawn-out spurts. Your hands easily reach around his chest and clutch onto his pebbled nipples, your lips finding the side of his neck.

He expects you to finish inside him and leave it at that, but…

As he learned long ago, there are always buts.

You never get to let him know what that but is.

[joshym]

Lilac Moon: Chapter 2

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Word count: 6.1k+

Warnings: (specific to this chapter) mentions of cheating, anxiety, and death of a parent, alcohol use, cursing, nauseating fluffiness, some passionate kissing (future chapters WILL contain 18+ content, so minors STAY AWAY)

Chapter 1

a/n: i’m so excited to share this story with you all. it’s been heavy on my mind for months now, and seeing it all written out makes me SO happy.🥹 i hope you love this installment. don’t be afraid to let me know what you think! and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.🤍 this story is just getting started. buckle up, my loves.

-lis🤍

Last night felt like a fever dream, the kind that leaves a fuzzy feeling in your head that you can’t shake. Had you actually agreed to touring with Greta Van Fleet? And they approached you about it?

This kind of thing just doesn’t happen- at least not to bands as small as Lilac Moon. Yeah, you’ve got a pretty decent following locally, but you’re certainly not big enough to open for them, right?

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

It’s the early afternoon the next day. You’re still in bed as you didn’t get home until around 3:00 in the morning. Even as you finally laid your tired body in the comfort of your sheets, you couldn’t shut your mind off long enough to acquire any sort of restful shut eye. 

Your mind has been racing with pure excitement and a little bit of disbelief. You also couldn’t shake the vision of Josh locking eyes with you, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink hue when his brother teased him about watching you on stage…and his hug. His body was so warm, his arms so intent on squeezing you in the softest embrace.

You knew that, more than likely, this all meant nothing. He’s quite a generous and loving person, this is just how he treats everyone.

You’ve been telling yourself since last night to not read into it much further…

But damn, if you didn’t crave another hug from him…one that wouldn’t break so easily.

Today you have a meeting to attend regarding the upcoming tour that’s set to begin in just under two months. You’re not sure what his process entails, but you have a feeling it’ll be a bit extensive.

You decide it’s about time to start getting ready for what the day has in store. You make it through a quick shower to freshen up a bit, feeling yourself slowly come back to life after the last few nights of gigs. 

You put on a little bit of makeup, just enough to give you a boost of confidence. You decide on a simple white summer dress that compliments your figure, your favorite pair of white sneakers, and, of course, the loads of gold jewelry that you never leave the house without.

You look yourself over in the mirror a bit to be sure you looked presentable. You’re doing your best to get rid of the nerves that have steadily been creeping on you since you woke up, your thoughts plagued with the unknown in this adventure you're gearing up for. 

You’re suddenly startled by your phone vibrating with a slew of text messages coming in back to back.

Ivy: Jay is pissed.

Ivy: He just found out about the tour…

Ivy: And he’s not happy that we made the decision without him. 

Ivy: Y/n, he’s threatening to not come today. You need to call him, you’re the only one that can calm his ass down. Please talk him down. I hate it but we need him.

You: Why the hell is he mad? This is literally what he wanted. This is so fucking stupid. This is what he does when he doesn’t get his way.

You: I’ll call him, just give me a sec.

As if your anxiety wasn’t bad enough, now you get to deal with the mess of calming Jay down and getting him on board. You knew that he should’ve been part of the decision making, and you do feel some guilt for that. But you knew better than to approach him after he’d been drinking. And to be honest, you didn’t want his horrible energy infiltrating the moment. 

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly to relieve some stress as you get ready to press the ‘call’ button. You know that you need him, that Lilac Moon needs him. As much as it pains you to admit, the band simply can’t do this without him.

The ringing on the other end seems to go one forever, and you’re almost sure he’s waiting to answer until the last minute just to keep the ball in his court.

“Hey, y/n. Care to fill me in on what the fuck is going on?”

“Jay, I’m sorry. We should’ve gotten you before we said yes. That wasn’t fair to you. But this is exactly what we need. This will get us out of here. This is huge, Jay. We have to do this and we need you.”

“Funny that you need me for this fucking tour but didn’t need my permission to sign my life away for months on end.”

“Please just come to the meeting today. We don’t know all the details yet, we haven’t even signed with booking agents or anything. Just come and we can get it all worked out together, okay? Please, Jay. Don’t do this right now. This is too big of an opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” His voice was laced with sarcasm before he forced out a fake laugh. “K, I’ll be there.”

He abruptly hangs up the phone and leaves you even more worried about how this meeting will go today. Jay has never been the best at controlling his temper, and he often says whatever is on his mind without a second thought.

How you ever fell for this man is beyond you. You hate that you’re stuck with him for the promise of any sort of career. 

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

Ivy showed up to your apartment shortly after your phone call from hell. You two had decided to carpool to the meeting together. 

You rushed down the stairs of the apartment building to meet her, hurrying so you could get on the road as soon as possible. You didn’t want to make a bad impression by being fashionably late, and neither did Ivy. She was yet again blowing up your phone with ‘I’m here!’ and ‘HURRY!’ messages. 

You finally made it to her car and she sped off quicker than you were ready for.

“Holy shit, Ivy! I’d like to make it there in one piece if you don’t mind!”

You both bust up in laughter as your entire body is flung back violently against the carseat. 

You’re so grateful for her, for her knack of calming your anxious thoughts without even trying. She’s a safe place for you, and you are for her. Friendships like these are a rarity. 

You’ve finally made it to their managers house for the meeting. You’re shocked to see that Jay, Julien and Joe are already here and inside. You both hurriedly make your way to the front door, embarrassment setting in as you’re assuming you’re the last ones to show.

“Ah! There they are!” Joe stands up to greet you both and show you where to sit.

The meeting seems informal enough, which eases your anxieties a bit. There’s charcuterie boards laid out across the tables and mimosas placed at every seat.

Joe introduces you to the bands manager, the booking manager and their social media manager. They’re all incredibly kind and friendly, not at all what you were expecting from such a famous band. They each greet you with a hug and a smile that instantly wipes away any remaining worry you still had.

As you take a seat, you can’t help but notice four empty chairs and the obvious absence of the quartet.

Their manager takes notice of your confused expression. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here. They’re notorious for being behind on schedule.”

You all sit around and chat while you wait for the boys. You even get to go over a few of the minor details of the tour, including the dates and cities you’ll be playing.

The schedule seemed a bit rigorous, but you knew it was nothing you all couldn’t handle. You’ll be playing the first fifteen shows on this tour, and the cities were a bit spread out which meant lots of time on the road, which also meant that you all would have to invest in a tour bus very soon.

Right as Joe was beginning to nail down some of the finer details, you hear the loud screech of tires coming to a complete stop from outside and four doors slamming almost simultaneously. You can’t quite make out what’s being said, but you hear plenty of loud exclamations being made as their voices get louder and louder as they approach the front door.

Josh is the first to grace the room, bursting through the door as if he owned the place and causing you to jump a bit.

“Hello, dear friends! It’s wonderful to see you all on this lovely day!”

He makes his way around the table giving everyone in attendance a hug, asking them how they’re doing and throwing in the occasional “you look nice today!”

He finally makes it around the table to you and you stand up, eager to meet him in another hug. 

“And you, y/n, you look very nice today.'' He put a little emphasis on the word ‘very’, even tossing in a wink as he sat down right next to you. You try, but ultimately fail to hide the blush that so graciously creeps on your cheeks almost every time you interact with this man.

Jake has already made it inside, walking around the table to pat everyone on the shoulder. He stops at you and Ivy to give you hugs. He pulls away from you, smiling at you both and dipping his sunglasses downwards to show his eyes.

“Ladies, welcome to hell.” 

“Oh, Jacob. Don’t be so dramatic.” Sam shoves Jake aside to have his turn hugging you and Ivy.

Danny follows shortly after, wrapping you both in giant bear hugs that are almost reminiscent of Juliens’. You start to wonder if it’s a drummer thing.

“So great to see you ladies again!” 

With the boys all here, the meeting is ready to continue. Joe does a lot of the talking for you as none of you really know what you’re doing or how any of this works. Joe’s a bit more seasoned with this sort of thing so you’re more than happy to let him take the reins. 

You’re able to get a few more details in, but you’re having a hard time focusing. Josh is incredibly close to you, so close that you can feel his breath slightly tickle your face. Your senses are filled with his scent of eucalyptus and a little bit of lavender. You glance at him every so often to find him looking at you, smiling every time your eyes meet. 

Jay has taken notice of this and his eyes are practically burning a hole through your soul as he watches the silent flirting taking place.

He’s beginning to get visibly more and more annoyed, and now he’s starting to ask questions that are coming off as more demanding than inquisitive. He’s asking the uncomfortable questions that have to do with payment and whether or not they will help in providing a means of transportation for the tour. Things that, to you, just don’t seem to matter as much at the moment.

He’s humiliating you, Ivy and Julien with his harsh tone, acting as if he believes he’s better than everyone else in the room. You’re starting to really become uncomfortable, eyeing Julien and Joe in an attempt to send the signal that they should step in and stop him.

Julien finally gets the hint and chimes in, grabbing Jay’s shoulder in a bit of a makeshift hug and cutting him off before he can say anything else. 

“Well, I think those things can be worked out later on. As far as I’m concerned, and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say this, we’re so honored to have been given this amazing opportunity. This is a huge shot for us. We just want to thank you for giving us this chance.” 

You and Ivy agree and share your own notions of gratitude, while Jay’s only response was a dramatic sigh accompanied with a roll of his eyes.

You just so happen to catch that Danny appears less than impressed with Jay, his tongue aggressively gliding on the inside of his cheek as it seems he’s biting back a few choice words.

This tour could get interesting.

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

The meeting has finally hit the point of conclusion and it’s time to sign paperwork with the booking agent. Your hands are shaky as it’s your turn to sign your name, being the last one from your team. Josh is watching you with a sweet smirk laying across his lips.

“You’ve got this, y/n. I mean it’s not like you’re signing your entire life away, just most of it.”

The whole room bursts out in laughter at his clever joke, making your nerves disappear as you sign your name.

“It’s official!” Josh shoots up from his chair as soon as you set the pen down. “Cheers, my friends! This will be a wondrous adventure!”

Everyone stands with full smiles and mimosas in hand to join Josh in his celebratory salute to this new beginning. Well, everyone aside from Jay, that is. He’s just mindlessly scrolling on his phone, ignoring the situation entirely.

Danny shoots him a look of pure annoyance but decides to ignore him.

“I think we should celebrate. Bartaco, anyone?” he says as he finishes off the last few drops of his drink. Sammy perks up at the idea.

“That sounds like a great plan, Daniel.” He motions to you, Ivy and Julien, even Jay in his attempt to make sure he feels included despite his asshole behavior.

The three of you happily agree, but of course, Jay has other plans.

“You know, I think I’ll sit this one out. I’d rather spend what little time I have left before this tour starts to get some rehearsing in.” He looks at the three of you with disgust. “I expect you all to be at my house sooner rather than later.”

Why can’t he just be fucking grateful?

He stands up and leaves in an angry rush, leaving you embarrassed once again at his actions. Julien, being the peacekeeper that he is, decided to follow Jay to avoid a complete tantrum from the guitarist.

“I’m sorry, guys. I’ll go with Jay to hold him off a bit. You all have fun.” He made his way around the room offering his hugs and handshakes, thanking the boys and their team once again before walking out the door.

“I’m so sorry about Jay, guys. He’s going through a bit of a rough patch, and-” Ivy quickly cuts your explanation off.

“He’s just a dick. That’s all there is to it. Always has been. You don’t need to make excuses for him, y/n.”.”

Josh grabs your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Who’s ready to eat?”

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

You, Ivy and the four rockstar boys all decide to go to Bartaco together, the rest of the crew opting to stay back to work out some more details for the tour.

The six of you walk into the restaurant together and thanks to the status of your dining pals, you were seated almost immediately. The boys frequent this place often and the staff always makes special accommodations for them.

You all take your seats, Josh choosing to sit directly across from you next to his twin who’s sitting across from Ivy, and Sam is seated next to you opposite of Danny.

You all take turns ordering food and drinks, and you’re so impressed with how kind and respectful the guys are to the wait staff. All the famous people you’ve met before were entirely too entitled and too full of themselves to treat anyone with any sort of dignity. Not these guys, though. They’re so down to earth, so humble, so genuine.

You all talk amongst each other while you wait for your meals. Ivy and Jake have sparked quite the debate over gibson guitars while Sam and Danny are off in their own world with their conversation, leaving you and Josh space to talk.

“Well, y/n, how are you feeling about it all? With the tour and such?” He gives you a soft smile.

“I…I mean I seriously couldn’t be more excited. This is just…I can’t quite articulate. It just means the world, it really does.”

“Well I for one am thrilled to have you all along with us. I think this will be really great.”

“Can I ask you something, Josh?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Of all the acts, all the bands you could’ve chosen, why us? We’re not anything special. We’re not very well known, we’ve never even been on an actual tour before. So, I guess I’m just curious. What made you choose us?”

Josh reaches across the table and grabs your hand, rubbing the top of it gently with his thumb.

“There’s something really special here, y/n. I’ve only watched you perform once, but I was utterly blown away. The musicianship is astounding. The lyrics are poetic. You have so much emotion when you’re on that stage. Your audience feels it with you, I feel it with you. It’s truly a beautiful thing. You don’t see it often. We just knew we had to be a part of it.”

His fingers are now intertwined with yours as he stares directly into your eyes, which are beginning to well up with heavy tears at his beautiful words. You instantly feel an overwhelming sense of peace, of comfort. It’s as if you’re the only two in the room. Maybe even the whole world.

“And don’t worry. I’ll be sure to show you the ropes of life on the road. You’ll love it, I just know it.” He gives you a wink while continuing to caress your hand. 

Just as you’re about to respond, the waiter makes it over to your table with the food. Your trance is broken by the interruption; you’ve suddenly been flung back into the real world.

Ivy looks at you and notices the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks quietly so as to not draw attention.

“Yeah, everythings pretty damn great.”

You all enjoy your meals, continuing to talk and laugh together as if you’ve been lifelong friends. You’re quickly finding that their energy matches yours and Ivys’ perfectly. You haven’t felt this contented in a very, very long time.

After sitting in the restaurant for a few hours, you all decide it’s time to head out. They all walk you and Ivy to her car, saying their goodbyes and ‘see you laters’ one by one.

As you’re about to open the door on the passenger's side of Ivys’ car, Josh quickly stops you and takes over so he can open the door for you.

“Well thank you, kind sir.”

“Pleasure is mine, m’ lady.”

You take a seat and Josh gently closes the door for you. He starts to walk away, still looking at you and waving goodbye.

Just before Ivy takes off, you’re startled by a knock on your window. It’s Josh again, and he’s motioning for you to roll your window down.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah, actually.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “You should probably put your number in there, ya know, just in case something were to come up with the tour planning and what not.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course! I bet it’s important to have each other's contact information, just to be safe.”

You type in the digits of your number, saving your contact in his phone. You hand it back to him and he immediately presses the ‘call’ button and your phone starts ringing.

You look at him with an amused smile.

“Just had to make sure you didn’t give me a fake number.”

He waves another goodbye as you two drive away.

“Yeah, he’s into you.”

“There’s no way, Ivy. Look at him. He could have any girl he wanted.”

“Yep. And he wants you, dumby.”

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

You and Ivy spent the rest of the day at Jay’s house. He wanted to practice, so that’s exactly what you did. He carried one with his pissy attitude but you still felt it was a successful practice.

You were finally home, exhausted after the long day. It’s nearly 1:00 in the morning and your body is worn out from all of the late nights you’ve had recently. You decide to take a long bath to relax before bed. You poured yourself a glass of wine, lit your candles, and placed your lavender epsom salt in the water. You hunkered down in the tub, ready to melt the day away.

Just as you could feel yourself starting to drift to sleep, you hear your phone vibrate.

Who the hell is texting me this late? 

You reach to grab your phone sitting on the side of the tub and unlock it, surprised when you see who the message is from. 

Josh: I just wanted to apologize for being so mushy earlier at the restaurant. I hope I didn’t frighten you. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and I’m a bit of an oversharer, lol. Regardless, I truly meant everything that I said.

You feel your heart skip a beat in your chest. You’ve been a fan of this man for so long, just met him less than 48 hours ago, and now he’s texting you? 

You: You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for! Your words meant more to me than I can explain. Especially coming from you. 

Josh: How come you're still awake? I honestly didn’t expect a response until tomorrow morning. I don’t having anything else prepared haha

You: We had to go to Jay’s for practice and it took forever. I just got home about 30 minutes ago. But I should be asking you the same thing! Or is this just the normal rockstar schedule?

Josh: I like to stay up late. It’s usually the best time for me, creatively speaking. Something about it inspires me endlessly. 

Josh: How did your practice go? And why does it seem that Jay is perpetually pissed?

You: It went about as well as I could’ve hoped, I guess. And that’s a bit of a long story. Got all night? lol

Josh: Well, I do, actually. Care to join me for some wine and story time?

You: That rhymed perfectly. I would love to join you.

Josh: My place in 20?

You: Sounds great! 

You nearly leap out of the tub to get ready to leave. You want to put on something cute but keep it simple and comfortable, so you go for a pair of biker shorts and a cropped tank top. You don’t bother with makeup of any kind, but you make sure your hair looks nice.

You’re heading to your car when Josh sends you his address with a ‘see you soon’ attached to the message.

Putting his address in your maps app, you realize he only lives about 10 minutes away from you. He’s been this close to you this whole time. How is it that you’ve never run into each other before now? 

You make it to his home that’s surrounded by acres of land and beautiful trees. There’s a long driveway leading up to the house, heightening your anticipation as you slowly drive it.

You’ve finally made it to the front of the house. You hesitate a bit before stepping out of the car, your nerves are starting to get the best of you. You shove them down and get out of the car to head up to the front door. Right as you're about to ring the doorbell, the door flies open, startling you a bit.

“Hey, y/n! Come on in!”

“How did you know I was already here?”

He points up to the frame of the front door.

“Security cameras. Kind of a necessity. You’ll probably want to invest in them soon.”

He leads you inside. His place is breathtaking. It smells wonderful, like fresh patchouli. The decor is very minimalist with a touch of mid century modern. Large, flush plants grace every corner.

“Oh my, Josh. This is beautiful.”

“Well thank you, my dear. Would you like a tour?”

“Please!”

He walks you around, showing you everything, explaining every single detail. Everything is intentional. Each part of his home has a story, and you love hearing him tell you all about it.

“I designed most everything myself. I knew exactly what I wanted and I found the perfect architects to help me bring my vision to fruition.”

“Josh, this is amazing. I love it. There’s such a calming aura about it.”

“Oh I’m so glad you said that! That’s exactly what I was going for. I’m happy you can feel it, too. I needed a place of serenity and peace to come home to. My life can get a bit hectic sometimes.”

He resumes the tour to the backyard where you are entirely stopped in your tracks at the set up. 

There’s a large pergola with billowing curtains draped at each opening and tons of hanging string lights cascading throughout the structure. Inside, there’s a small couch covered with a white, chunky knit blanket and throw pillows with intricate colorful patterns. Large rugs cover the ground with a few bigger pillows for extra seating. There’s also a lovely accent table in the middle of the space with gold features and a wine bottle with two glasses placed on top of it.

“Holy shit, Josh…this is, I…I’m not even sure what to say. This is stunning.”

“Is this a good enough spot for our wine and story time?”

“Are you kidding? This is perfect.”

He grabs your hand and leads you to the couch where you take a seat. 

“I hope you like Chardonnay.” He begins pouring your glass. “This is a bottle of Domaine Ramonet Montrachet Grand Cru, straight from the Montrachet vineyard in France.” He swirls the drink a bit in the glass before handing it to you. “You’ll notice notes of lemon and citrus. It’s quite delicious.”

You take a sip and are immediately blown away.

“This is amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything quite like this. Was this expensive?”

“Ah, don’t worry about that.”

He pours himself a glass and sits next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he sits close.

“Josh tell me! How much does wine like this go for?”

“It’s not as much as you’d think. A measly $1200 a bottle. That’s all.”

You gasp, nearly spitting out the sip you just took.

“What do you mean that’s all? That’s more than my rent! Utilities included!” He laughs the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh thus far, grabbing your knee to stabilize himself.

“Okay, so while you drink your rent WITH utilities included, catch me up to speed on your pissy guitarist. What’s the story with him?”

“Well, I guess I should begin with the fact that we dated for a spell.”

“What? You dated that guy?”

“Yeah. Not my most shining moment. Can’t say I’m proud of it.”

“So what happened? How come you broke up?”

“He cheated on me. A lot. With lots of different girls. And he’s also just a huge jerk, as you’ve witnessed.”

“Wait…he cheated on you? What the fuck, y/n. I can’t fathom that. He should’ve counted his lucky stars for landing you.”

Your cheeks blush at the compliment and you take another large drink of your wine as Josh grabs the bottle to top off your glass.

“Yeah, he cheated. And shockingly, I didn’t break up with him right away. That’s why it kept happening. I thought I had to stay with him for the sake of the band.”

“How did you guys even meet?”

“When Ivy and I moved here, we had one goal in mind- to play music. But we didn’t know anyone. We had no idea where to even start. I met Jay when I was looking for apartments. He was working at the complex that I eventually moved into. I don’t know how, but we just clicked in the beginning. And it helped that he had the same passion for making music. We decided to start making music together, along with Ivy. Julien came out of the woodwork one day, and thus, Lilac Moon was born. Jay and I started seeing each other somewhere during that time. I fell in love with his drive for music, with his talent. He was even teaching me to play guitar. I just didn’t see the red flags in the beginning, or maybe I just ignored them. Ivy and Julien saw right through him, though. I didn’t listen to their warnings. I wish I would have. But now, we’re stuck with him. As much as I can’t stand the man, he’s a damn good musician. I don’t think we’d have a band without him.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his eyes locked on yours as he’s taking in everything you're saying.

“I’m sorry. I told you it was a long one.”

“No, no. I’m glad you told me. I’m so sorry he did that to you. You know you deserve better, right? You deserve the best this world has to offer.”

His hand is now embracing yours with a firm hold.

“Well, thank you, Josh. But you barely know me. How do you know I’m not some crazy, pathological liar?”

“I know I’ve just met you, but your soul radiates a kind of genuinity that you only find every so often. It’s rare. You’re rare. From the moment I met you when you crashed into me, my spirit felt a warmness from you that I don’t feel with many people. You know, I told Sam I knew that wouldn’t be the last time I’d see you. And I was right. The universe is mysterious that way.”

Here come those tears again that you shed more than you’d care to admit. You’re emotional, sometimes to a fault, but his words are caressing your heart in a way you’ve never experienced before.

“Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t doubt your effect on people. You’re lovely, y/n.”

“You know, you really have a way with words, Josh. You’re one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever encountered. I’ve wanted to meet you for years, literal years. I’ve always been enamored by you. I’m so grateful our paths crossed, even in the embarrassing way it happened.”

You both laugh at the memory of you running into the back of him on the streets of downtown Nashville.

“I actually think that’s the perfect way to meet someone. I will never forget it, that’s for sure.”

His grip on your hand hasn’t let up one bit. In fact, you’re now holding on just as tightly. You’re almost afraid to let go, afraid this moment will end if you do.

“Tell me a little more about you, y/n. Tell me about where you're from, about your family, where your love for music comes from. What makes you who you are?”

“Oh gosh. That’s another long story.”

“The night is still young, there’s still plenty of wine, I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

You smile wildly at him and his devotion to hearing your story.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning, Josh.”

“Exactly! We’re still in the wee hours of the evening.” He shifts his body to face you completely now, helping to maneuver your legs to intertwine with his. This feels so intimate considering you’ve only just met, but it feels absolutely right. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, I guess my love for music started with my dad. He introduced me to music at a really young age. He bought me my first record when I was five years old, Tom Petty’s Wildflowers. It’s still one of my favorites. My love for music really took off from there. I mean, I hardly remember a time in my house that there wasn’t music playing. My dad had this old record player that he’d had since he was a kid in the 70’s that still worked perfectly even after all those years of constant use. We’d sit at that thing for hours on end just listening to albums all the way through, hearing the stories the artists were telling. George Harrison's All Things Must Pass was one of his absolute favorites, and Gather In The Rain by Melanie. He loved everything that Sam Cooke recorded. So many albums and artists that hold so much sentimentality to me. He always told me he knew I’d make music my career, with as much passion as I had for it. He always encouraged me to chase my dreams.

When he died, my mom got rid of everything. The record player that he loved so much, every single album in his giant collection…she just sold all of it. It didn’t matter to her. In fact, she hated that we shared that bond. She never understood it. I wanted to keep that part of him alive, alive in me. To not chase after my dreams would feel like losing him all over again. I’ve never had the same support from my mom. Ever. But I didn’t let that stop me. I decided that moving and going after what I loved is exactly what he would’ve wanted me to do. So, I did it. And I did it with my best friend so the two of us could live out our dreams of making music together. The rest is history, I guess.”

Josh’s hand was moving up and down your shin to offer you some comfort, and his eyes appear more glassy as it seems your story has truly moved him nearly to tears.

“Shit. Now I’m the oversharer. I’m sorry, I told you it was a lot.”

“Y/n. Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me enough to share that part of yourself with me. I’m…I’m honored. I’m touched, really. I know he’s proud of you. You’re doing just what he wanted you to do. Love doesn’t leave, you know. Love lives on. His love lives on in you.”

You’re the most vulnerable you think you’ve ever been. You’ve hardly talked about this with anyone, Ivy being the only person in your life that knows everything. You don’t like to talk about yourself very often, but Josh has made you feel so comforted, you feel so heard. You can’t remember a time that you’ve felt this much validation from anyone. This feels good; this feels like home.

You try so hard to stop it, but tears begin streaming down your face in an instant. Josh places his hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“You’re beautiful, y/n.”

“Thank you, Josh.”

Your faces have become so close that your noses are touching, his hand still cupping your face. It feels like silk brushing against your cheek, and he smells like that familiar eucalyptus and lavender scent you noted earlier. That aroma has infiltrated your senses. It’s your favorite.

It feels like time stands still for a moment. All you see, all you feel, all you hear…it’s only Josh.

“Y/n, I want to kiss you.”

His voice is but the sweetest whisper.

“Do it, then.”

At last, your lips meet his. The kiss is soft at first, you both wanting to take the time to savor each other. It slowly grows in intensity and passion. You move to wrap your arms around the back of his neck to bring him even closer to you, with both of his hands now gently cupping your face. His lips are so warm. They feel like crushed velvet against yours. You taste the sweet lemon and citrus from the wine on his tongue, and you realize that the chardonnay alone pales in comparison to the taste of him mixed with it.

You reluctantly break the kiss, only to catch your breath. Your eyes are instantly locked on his, taking in the beautiful amber hue.

“Can I stay with you for a little while? I know it’s late but,-”

“You can stay with me for as long as you like, y/n.”

With that, Josh lays back on the couch, bringing you down to rest your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes become heavy as you feel yourself drift to sleep in the safety of his embrace. 

To be continued…

join the taglist!

Chapter 3

taglist: @jakeyt, @fwzco, @jessicafg03, @blissfulbellss, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @arsonkween, @sicksadandrad, @gretavansara, @witchofendora, @andtherestishistory13​  @slaythelightfantastic 

 (I’m pretty sure I got everyone, but pls let me know if I missed you. tumblr is a little weird with tags, as we all know, so I hope this worked lol)

[samiesramen]

Mullivans headcanons because I said so:

- Piers and Jake are enemies to lovers in the best kind of slow burn way. If you don’t believe me read Raccoon City: Redux on AO3 T R U S T M E

- I can’t decide if I head-canon Piers as gay or bi, they’re both kind of fitting. That’s makes sense in my head because I can totally see Piers crushing in a girl that can kick his ass, just as much as a guy. Though I feel like he’s had more boyfriends, and with being in the BSAA this did not help XD

- I head canon Jake as Demi/Bi. Jake grew up with a in and off message about love and what he wanted out of it. Because if that, he started messing around slowly figuring out he was into men and women but what he wanted deep down was someone he could truly fall for. Because of that he’s only vulnerable with a select people, such as Sherry. Homie just wants to find someone to cuddle and love :3

- Like IMAGINE if Jake’s partner for his campaign was Piers and they put effort into them-UGGGHH😩👌🏾.The heart to heart scenes would be TOP TIER. The character growth, the relationship growth. They should’ve hired me for re6.

- Anyways :3

- The teasing, the cute moments, the connection would’ve been so cute.

- Like Capcom made two characters that are literally junior versions of their two most ICONIC characters and they didn’t do ANYTHING with them?? You made Wesker Junior and Redfield Junior they just said, yeah they don’t need to interact :=3

- I feel like Piers took a little while longer than Jake to fall. A lot of authors, especially Ao3 authors have a common detail in Piers where he is more resilient to falling in love in general. (Which is a character detail I cannot even begin to go over)

- But besides that point, Piers was definitely the “Oh my god I’m in love” person of the relationship.

- Jake on the other hand-

- Lord have mercy

- Remember how I said enemies to lovers? Yeah homeboy was killing that trope.

- The constant teasing, jokes, etc, etc, etc.

- Piers could not catch a break (But deep down he kinda loved it.)

- My favorite thing for them is how Puppy could have started out as a insult and then it gradually started to being a cute nickname Jake just calls him and Piers gets used too over time.

Like read these lines with Jake’s voice in your head and you’ll see what I mean;

- “Awww, poor puppy.” (Mocking)

- “ You got a plan puppy?”(General)

- “Hey, don’t worry about it puppy..”(Cute, assuring.”

- “Cute puppy…” (😏)

- Like AAAHH

- The moment Piers and Jake become a couple they are ride or die. No questions asked.

- I’m talking standing up for each other, grabbing each other before one of them gets hit, hugging, Jake grabbing Piers hand while Piers sleeps.

- As the relationship brings to grow and they start become friend as well as partners on the field, Jake unconsciously grabs Piers’ hand to keep him safe, similarly to what Jake did in his campaign with Sherry.

- I once thought of this heartfelt moment while they’re getting into the friends stage where Piers isn is just slowly giving up during a mission, and then Jake starts to realize this and he’s in his head like:

- “Wait, he’s sax, I don’t like that.”

- “I have to make him smile.”

- Hear me out, picture this:

- Despite the area around him in ruins, Jake ignores it all the moment he see’s the look of disappointment and despair in Piers eyes. The hope in Piers’ body is draining.

- Piers goes onto talking about how he’s failing to do his job. How he can’t handle it, finishing off that he’s not enough.

- Jake is bewildered at this because the entire time he’s seen Piers, he’s stubborn, smart, and importantly determined. Honestly he was keeping Jake from giving up.

- It made Jake realize that he didn’t want to see Piers vulnerable like this. Not because he didn’t care, but he was worried in a way he’s never been before.

- Jake gets a soft look in his eyes and grabs Piers’ hand talking him not to sell himself short. That he’s doing an amazing job despite how at odds they are compared to the world. That they probably wouldn’t be alive without him.

- and the end it all off, Jake, without even being aware of it. softly tilts Piers’ chin up and looks in his eyes and tells him “I think you great, Piers.”

- Piers’s eyes widen and bit. They are the replaced with a soft gaze and he smiles softly. That’s the first time in the mission Jake said his name.

- IMAGINE IF THAT WAS IN THE GAME😩💀‼️‼️

This is getting super long. I am very normal about this humongous super duper ultra platinum rare pair. No it’s not 3:30 am, yes I’m getting sleep.

Anywho , let me know if you would like a part 2!

[poetic-beats]

Sometimes when I come back to this blog it just makes me cringe. Mostly because whenever I’m manic I start a ton of new projects whether its crappy art, jumping around to different sites for my poetry that I eventually ditch, different business ideas that I start but never finish, bad poetry I have written things I like but there’s also just bad poetry that served a purpose for me to vent but objectively is bad. It’s also a very open book of the events and stages I’ve gone through and some of you have followed me from the beginning and I just cringe at the thought of what it must look like seeing my erratic postings. And it’s a monument to all of my sadness and trauma and struggles and I don’t find that a bad thing though I guess because writing was helpful and I’m not ashamed of what I’ve struggled with but damn this blog was almost as much of a mess as my mind. Life has changed so much in the 7 years since I started this blog, I’m 30 now which is scary to be so old ( I know 30 isn’t actually old old but in context of where I am in my life) and yet feel like I’m so behind in adulting. It’s like when I hit 30 in my mind it changed you know until I hit that number I was still in my 20’s even if it was 29 it felt like okay I’m not an ‘adult’ adult yet so it’s fine my shits not together but its like okay I’ve hit 30 now I should’ve started checking some boxes off the list and whilst some things have improved I still have a long way to go. I’m in therapy now I managed to start early last year privately ofc because NHS sucks ass. Luckily she’s good about pricing clearly not in it for the money; was my old MH teams lead therapist before she quit didn’t know she’d gone private, found her by dumb luck. She’s really good & it’s already helped me so much. I managed to acquire a few new diagnoses at the end of last year not a surprise though nothing new or unexpected as such but sometimes does feel like it’s a never ending list. Oh I got a second cat!!! His names Shrimp and he’s adorable. Bagel loves him I’ll have to post a picture of them both at some point and after having not written/barely written anything for awhile I recently started writing poetry again. Not sure why I slowed down/stopped I guess things got really busy & I managed/coped in different ways I also just kinda lost it like I had a mental block when I did try writing. Anyways so I wrote some new stuff recently sadly it’s not exactly happy it’s more of a throwback to when I first started this blog, writing as a way to cope in the moment when emotions were too much, to sort of purge it from my mind. I’ve had some difficult things to deal with and it’s been a lot so being able to write again is bittersweet. I also can’t vouch for its quality but hey it helped me cope so does it really matter, guess not. Anyways idk that’s enough rambling from me now don’t know why I wrote this out on here I mean my blogs mostly dead apart from these random check ins I do where I give these life update posts which I”m not sure anyone even cares to read because this blog is so inactive now but here I am doing it anyways.