#yes pinkie is wearing the knee high converse

[comicallysmallcereals]

Various main six fashion doodles :3

[saintlike78]

hey love, I have a request. So I was thinking maybe a poly marauders fic where maybe Sirius and James are the doms in the relationship and they have to punish you and Remus? I’m not being specific so feel free to change anything up, I just think your writing style would be good for this x

You know better [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Thank you for the request! I’m absolutely loving writing poly Marauders. I really hope you like it! I did add the daddy kink, but if it’s not your thing I can always edit it.

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x fem! Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), dom!Sirius, dom!James, somewhat switch!Remus, sub!reader, handjob, swearing, mentions of cum, spanking, daddy kink, praise kink, polyamorous relationship. As always, let me know if I missed anything.

The bustle of students was both cozy and overwhelming as you pushed your way down the long corridors of the castle. The ground outside was white and the sky was grey signifying another snowstorm on the horizon.

Your hand was safely tucked into Remus’ as he led the way to your shared class, the last one of the day. His long legs carried him at a faster pace than you could manage, but you lightly jogged bedside him to keep up. When you finally made it to the classroom, Remus held the door open and let you enter before himself. You found your favored seat and dumped your bag on the floor by your foot as you sat down. Remus sat beside you and placed his hand in yours again and brought your hand to his lap as he stroked the back.

As the class went on you moved closer to Remus so your knees bumped against each other and you could tangle your lower legs and feet together.

“Bunny don’t tease me, I can’t wait for Pads and Prongs,” Remus whispered for only you to hear when you moved your free hand to rest a little too high on his thigh.

You just hummed but made no move to remove your hand or move away from him.

When class ended Remus very quickly dragged you towards the Gryffindor common room and the boy’s dorm.

When you entered, he closed the door softly behind him and turned to you who had made your way over to Sirius’ bed.

You had discarded your shoes and had moved to lay atop Sirius’ mattress with a book to wait for your two other boyfriends to get out of class. Remus had other plans and set those in motion as he moved over to sit beside you on the bed.

He didn’t say anything, but slowly started to stroke your thigh and squeezing it slightly to gain your attention.

You looked up from your book and found Remus’ eyes already looking at yours.

“Remmy, we can’t… they’ll be angry, and I don’t want to be punished,” you said softly, placing your hands on top of his, but not making a move to stop his stroking movements.

“Please bunny, they still have a whole hour of class left, they won’t find out if we’re quick,” Remus argued, “I just need you now.”

You did feel bad because it was your fault for his neediness, having worked him up very innocently in class.

“I don’t know Remmy, you know I hate punishments and I always seem to receive them when you have a special idea,” you said trying to sway his mind.

Out of the two of you, Remus was the obvious brat and would often drag you into trouble. You on the other hand hated punishments, all you wanted was to be good, but it was much harder than you should expect to say no to the beautiful, scarred boy when he used his perfect puppy dog eyes.

“Please y/n/n, I promise we won’t get caught and that we’ll be quick,” Remus said as he stuck out his pinky.

“You promise?” you said while linking your pinkies.

“Cross my heart,” he finished whilst crossing his heart and then holding up his hand.

You hadn’t even properly said alright before Remus was on top of you and had connected your lips. You had opened your legs for him to get in-between and he wasted no time in doing so. His tongue snuck itself into your mouth and he ground his hips into yours causing a small breathy moan to be ripped from your throat into his mouth. Remus smiled into the kiss and kept grinding into you, making you feel his hard cock through his trousers.

“Remmy please,” you begged, wanting him to get on with it.

“ah ah, that’s not how you address us,” Remus scolded.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you corrected making Remus smile and kiss your forehead.

You knew that Sirius and James would spank Remus bloody if they knew he made you call him that. Only they were allowed to demand things of you and only they were your daddies, but when they weren’t there Remus would take on the role of dom.

Remus made quick work of removing his own clothes and removing yours. He growled lowly when he was met with the white lacy set you were wearing under your uniform.

“You look so pretty and innocent, but we know how much of a naughty girl you really are,” Remus said while reaching under you to unclasp and remove your bra, almost drooling when your breasts were freed.

He quickly latched his mouth onto one of your nipples and his hand worked and kneaded the other breast.

You whimpered at the feeling of Remus sucking and nibbling lightly at your breast. He moved over to your other breast and gave it the same attention. Your own hands couldn’t find peace constantly moving from his hair to his shoulders, scratching down his back and gripping his arms.

When Remus had decided that your breasts had been given enough attention, he moved his face up to yours again to reconnect your lips. One of his hands moved between you to rub your clit through your panties. You let out a whine when he moved your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your folds, gathering your arousal.

“So wet… are you ready for me, my beautiful girl?” Remus asked as he dragged his cock through your folds.

You whimpered and nodded.

Normally with Sirius and James, you would have been scolded or punished for not using your words, but Remus didn’t have time, so he just pushed into you resulting in a gasp leavening both your mouths.

He seethed himself completely in you and waited a moment for you to adjust and giving him the go-ahead. You nodded for him to start moving, which he quickly did.

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed his hips into yours again. He did these deep slow thrusts for a little while, but his impatient nature caused his pace to quicken, chasing both your releases.

It had taken much longer than you thought for you to leave class, make your way to the dorm, be convinced by Remus, and actually start your session which is why you hadn’t noticed the time. The door to the dorm opened and inside stepped the two people who were not supposed to witness what was going on between yourself and Remus.

Unluckily for you, you and Remus were too caught up with each other to hear your two other boyfriends enter.

“What the fuck is going on here!?” Sirius just about yelled.

You and Remus scrambled to get away from one another. You grabbed the loose blanket that lay atop Sirius’ bed and covered yourself with it, trying to hide your mistake with it.

“Who gave you permission to do that? And on top of MY bed!” Sirius was fuming, he moved over to you and grabbed your face.

“Answer me, NOW,” he said very loudly causing you to flinch.

“I-I.. Uhm… we tho-thought…” you stuttered, your voice shaking and tears gathering in your eyes.

“Well?” James asked firmly as he came to stand in front of you as well.

You looked to Remus for help, not wanting to throw him under the bus, even though it was his idea. He only looked at you with wide eyes, not knowing what to do either.

“We were j-just being needy,” you tried, voice small and shaky.

“hmm, but no one gave you permission, did they now? … whose idea was it?” Sirius asked even though you all knew he already knew whose it was.

You looked at Remus, but he still kept quiet. “You promised,” you whispered making Remus’ stomach fill with guilt.

“It was both of our ideas,” you said meekly looking into Sirius's eyes.

“hmm… alright,” Sirius answered clearly not believing you.

Sirius looked at James and they had a silent conversation with their eyes, scaring you and looking at Remus you could tell he was scared as well.

Before you had time to think Sirius had grabbed you causing you to drop the blanket and James had grabbed Remus. Remus was placed in a seated position at the edge of the bed, and you were promptly placed on your stomach on his lap.

“Since you feel like you can do stuff without us, you will be punishing her,” James said pointedly to Remus making you shudder.

“No, please, we’re sorry,” you tried to apologize even though you knew it was too late and you wouldn’t be getting out of this one.

“Nope sorry, pup, you need to be taught a lesson… unless you want to tell us something?” Sirius tried getting you to confess again, but you just sighed and shook your head as tears started to well up in anticipation.

“Alright then… we think twenty hits should be good and we’ll know if you hold back, so get to it,” Sirius said to Remus, whose hands were trembling.

“And you will be counting and apologizing after each one… can you do that for us, darling?” James asked you.

“Yes, daddy,” you answered, voice small.

You heard Remus whisper a small “I’m sorry”, but you didn’t have time to react before a harsh slap was landed on your ass causing a small cry to leave your lips out of surprise.

“One, I’m sorry, daddies,” you got out, a tear already rolling down your cheek at the sting on your ass.

Remus’s stomach was almost burning with guilt. He had promised you that you wouldn’t get caught and he knew how much you hated punishments, but here you were spread out over his knee receiving punishment from the person who persuaded you to break the rules.

Sirius had sat on the bed beside Remus and stroked your leg slowly. James had bent down by your face and wiped the tears that made their way down your cheeks. He gave you a sympathetic look but made no move to stop Remus.

“Here we thought you were our good girl,” James said mocking sadness.

You whimpered at his words wanting to argue that you were their good girl, but knew better, not wanting the punishment to be worse.

Two other slaps hit your ass before Remus’ guilt had consumed him and he cried out.

“I’m sorry! It was my idea!”

“Of course, it was,” James said with a scoff.

Sirius moved so he could bend down in front of your face as well and stroked your cheek.

“Since moony admitted it we’ll make your punishment ten spanks, so you’re only missing seven, our beautiful girl.”

You nodded and closed your eyes waiting for the remaining spanks.

Seven spanks and apologies later your body was lifted off of Remus and pulled into Sirius’ arms as he held you close squeezing you in a hug.

“You did so good for us, took your punishment so well,” he praised.

You whimpered in pain as you were sat in his lap, your ass bright red and sore from Remus’ not so gentle spanks.

“Is it over now,” you whispered for Sirius to hear.

“Yes, it’s over now, pup, you’re our good girl again,” Sirius whispered back, stroking soothingly up and down your spine.

You laid your head on Sirius’ shoulder watching as James ushered Remus towards one of the bedposts and tied his hands behind his back to it.

“Since you were so desperate that you had to persuade our good girl into making you cum, you’re not cumming at all tonight,” James said sternly while looking at Remus with a scowl.

“What! No! Can’t you just spank me, I promise I’ll be good,” Remus tried to argue, but to no avail.

“Do you want to make it a whole week?” Sirius interjected.

This shut Remus up and he sunk back down his eyes focused on James as he removed his clothes.

“Alright, pretty girl lay down for me and I’ll make you cum,” James said as he moved towards you on the bed.

Instead of getting off of Sirius, you maneuvered so you were laying with your back against his chest and between his spread legs. Sirius’ arms found their way around you, securing you to his chest and also so he could stroke and grab at your breasts.

James spread your legs and got in-between them while stroking his already hard cock. He ran his cock between your soaked folds, not needing to warm you up because of your activities with Remus.

He positioned himself at your entrance and with a glance at your face he pushed in, prompting a gasp to leave your parted lips.

James grunted at the feeling of your tight velvety walls engulfing his cock.

“Always so tight for me, even after you let Remus use what doesn’t belong to him,” James growls out as he thrusts into you at a fast pace.

Sirius kneads at your breasts and leans his head down to leave sloppy kisses along your neck and ear while whispering praises for only you to hear.

You were quite surprised at the care they were showing and how nice they were being, considering what had happened. You were almost confused, that was until you heard a needy whine coming from the foot of the bed and you realized this was Remus’ punishment, watching you get all of the special and gentle treatment. You felt bad, especially when you were the one to rile him up in class, even though it was innocent, you had known exactly what you were doing to him.

James quickened his pace, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot causing louder moans and whines to leave your lips. Sirius moved one hand from your breast in-between you and James so he could reach down and rub fast circles on your clit. Your walls spasmed and tightened around James as you tried to hold back your impending orgasm.

“Can I please cum, daddies?” you whimpered out, not exactly sure who you should be asking.

“Of course, you can, my pretty baby,” James answered while leaning down and smearing a loving kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t have proper time to react before your release washed over you. You grabbed on to James’ bicep with one hand and held Sirius's wrist with the other. Your whole body shaking as Sirius rubbed your clit prolonging your high. You let out a long moan that soon turned into a small whine at the overstimulation indicating to Sirius to remove his hand, which he did.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” Sirius whispered near your ear and then turning your head to connect your lips in a needy kiss.

James’ thrusts started to falter and with a loud groan, he quickly pulled out and released on your lower stomach.

You pulled away from Sirius to look at James and you muttered a small “thank you,” not forgetting your manners and what they had taught you.

“You’re welcome, out pretty girl,” he answered with a huge grin.

You then turned to look back at a still fully clothed Sirius.

“What about you, daddy? You haven’t cum yet,” you asked, confused as to why he wasn’t taking part in the action.

“You’re so sweet, always thinking of me, but don’t worry, Remmy will take care of it,” Sirius answered while stroking your cheek and leaving a small peck on your lips.

At the mention of his name, Remus’ head shot up, and looked at the three of you in excitement.

“You’ll help me cum, but that still doesn’t mean you’ll get to,” Sirius said pointedly towards Remus.

James had fetched his wand and cleaned the cum from your stomach in a quick motion. He had also put on a pair of boxers and grabbed a clean pair of panties and one of their t-shirts for you to wear.

“come here, baby,” James said while opening his arms for you to get into.

You didn’t hesitate and quickly got up off of Sirius and into James’ open arms. He turned over and sat on the bed with you in his lap so that you both could cuddle while watching Remus help Sirius get off.

Sirius had moved over to Remus at the foot of the bed. He didn’t bother removing any of his clothes, instead opting to just pull his hard cock from the restraints of his school trousers.

“Go on, get to it,” Sirius said while placing his cock in Remus’ open mouth.

Sirius let out a grunt when Remus started bopping his head up and down, doing to most with his skilled mouth for Sirius to finish fast.

You had sunk further into James’ lap, his arms securing you tightly to him. You leaned your head back on James’ shoulder, still watching Sirius and Remus intently.

Sirius had opted to bury his hands in Remus’ hair to hold him still while he fucked his mouth. Remus was more practiced than you, so he rarely gagged, but Sirius was not holding back and therefore triggered a few gags and tears to escape Remus’ throat and eyes.

Sirius’ grunts were growing louder, and his thrusts were more forceful than before, even from your place in James’ lap you could tell he was close. Your suspicions were confirmed when he released one loud moan and stilled his hips, releasing into Remus’ mouth.    

Sirius pulled out of Remus’ mouth and grabbed his chin squeezing his cheeks as a way to tell Remus to open his mouth and show that he swallowed it all like a good boy. He complied and stuck out his tongue showing the raven-haired boy that he was indeed capable of being good.

Sirius let go of Remus's face and gave him a soft pat on the cheek.

“Good boy,” Sirius said before he tucked himself into his trousers once more.

Remus looked between you, Sirius, and James pleadingly, but not daring to ask for what he wanted, afraid his punishment would be prolonged.

“Daddy, can we make Remmy cum, please? It was not his fault he was impatient,” you asked lowly for James to hear.

“Hmm, and who’s fault was it then?” James asked you back.

“I was sitting close to him during class and being cuddly... he couldn’t help it,” you tried to persuade James, also raising your voice slightly so both Sirius and Remus could hear as well.

“Well baby, since you were the one to rile him up why don’t you finish what you started?” James said while loosening his grip on you so that you could crawl over to Remus at the foot of the bed.

“Are you serious? What’s the point of punishment if he’s just let off so easy and also getting to use our pretty girl’s mouth?” Sirius exclaimed, irritated by James’ benevolence.

“She asked nicely,” James shrugged, being the easiest of the two to persuade.

Sirius just scoffed and rolled his eyes as he went to sit beside James to watch you help Remus out.

You sat in front of Remus and he gave you a thankful smile. You stilled as you looked into his eyes, completely lost by his beautiful face.

“What’s wrong bunny?” Remus asked when you didn’t make a move to do anything.

Your cheeks gained a slight pink tint as a blush crept onto them.

“You’re just so beautiful,” you bashfully breathed out.

Remus’ cheeks soon matched yours as a blush of his own painted his cheeks.

You leaned forward and captured his lips in a loving kiss. While your mouths were working against each other you reached out and grabbed his bright red cock in one hand slowly spreading the pre-cum down his shaft with your thumb.

You began to pump up and down, using light pressure.

Remus shuddered when you ran your thumb over the slit of his sensitive tip.

His breathing increased and he moaned softly into your mouth.

“I’m close, please don’t stop,” Remus breathed out when you pulled apart for air.

You leaned down and captured his tip in your mouth and suckled on it, causing Remus to let out a groan as he came into your mouth.

You pumped him through his release and swallowed every drop.

You sat up once more and looked behind you at your two doms.

“Good job, baby, go ahead and untie him,” James said as he got up to get a pair of boxers for Remus to wear.

You did as you were told and reached behind Remus to free him from the bedpost. When his hands were untied, he reached up and grabbed your face, much to your surprise, causing you to let out a small gasp.

“You are absolutely phenomenal, my beautiful bunny,” Remus said before he leaned down to kiss you again.

You melted into the kiss; you had almost completely forgotten where you were until Sirius cleared his throat.

“You mean our,” he corrected, jealousy clear in his tone.

You pulled away from Remus and scooted back towards Sirius. Remus got up and accepted a pair of boxers from James and quickly put them on.

Sirius pulled you on top of his lap and kissed your temple.

“You are ours, isn’t that right pup?” Sirius asked as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

You giggled and your heart fluttered at the cuddly post-sex Sirius.

“Of course, I am yours and you’re all mine.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hope: The Smuggler

A continuation on this little piece I posted a couple of days ago. Just something small knocking around inside my mind. 

CW: Escaped pet whumpee, BBU, guns, scarring, referenced past torture, ~mysterious world-building references~

“Allie!” Gyasi hops down from the truck, the tread of her work boots crunching into the rock salt scattered over the road to melt the ice. 

Snowflakes are already starting to drift down, landing in Gyasi’s hair and laying white and beautiful against her black braids pulled back low at her neck. They melt a moment later, but it’s definitely snowing a little more than it was a half an hour ago, and Allie’s sure there’ll be another big buildup tonight. 

Allie’s mouth always goes a little dry when Gyasi is in town, and she has to lock her knees not to have them wobble as she gives her most welcoming smile. “Welcome back, Gya.”

“Always a pleasure.” Gyasi crushes her in a hug. The other woman only comes up to Allie’s nose, and still she feels sort of helpless at every touch. Funny, how she’s the deputy head of security for Hope, and still someone as slim and slight as Gyasi can make her fall to pieces. “I got a team of  six this time, all names you know. We’re going in with seven rescues and a couple libbers with pretty big felony convictions about to come down, hopefully coming back with a metric fucking ton of insulin, plus the usual other shit.”

“Great.” Allie has to clear her throat to keep her voice from coming out husky and trembling. She pulls back from the hug, looking over the truck. The man sitting in the passenger seat gives her a wave, and after a second Allie remembers him, too - Charlie or Chuck. Another truck pulls up behind that, and then a van. “We’ll be sending you in one vehicle at a time. Once we get clearance the first makes it through, we’ll send the next.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it goes. Rescues first-” Gyasi points to the van. “Then our libbers go in the truck. Chaz and I’ll bring up the rear.”

Right, Chaz. Allie always forgets his name. 

“And if you’re caught-”

“I know, Allie-cat. I was never here, there’s no road through the woods, we snuck through an hour east of here.” Gyasi reaches up to pat the side of her face, and Allie wonders if she’s just going to black out one day when Gya does that. “We didn’t give you away the last time one of us got picked up, we won’t this time, either. Trust me.”

“I try to,” Allie says, voice softening a little. It’s hard, to be soft - her life has been one of needing to always be sharp-edged, ready to kill or fight on command. Softness came only after she made it here, and even then only with time. “You know I try to trust you, Gya.”

“Well, try harder, because I’m trustworthy.” Gyasi laughs, deep and rich, and then her eyes shift to the side. Her smile, wide and bright, starts to fade slightly. It returns a little faded, unsure. "We have a watcher, Al.”

“What?” Allie turns to look over her shoulder, instinctively tensing at the possibility of a threat - and then relaxes. “Oh. He’s, uh. He’s shy. That’s our new kid, he came up from Florida.”

“Oof, what a long trip.”

“You’re not wrong. Leslie said he needed to be in No Man’s Land, although she refused to say why. Come on over here, kiddo!”

If Gyasi tops out with her hair not quite high enough to touch Allie’s nose, Esteban doesn’t even clear her shoulders. He’s a skinny, short thing, drowning in a huge canvas winter coat he’d arrived in. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are bright red from the cold he’s still getting used to, and he’s got big thick black gloves on, a woven knit cap pulled down to cover his ears, dark brown curls sticking out all around it, brown eyes sparkling.

Leslie had left him with fleece-lined jeans, heavy socks and a promise to wear two pairs with his boots, all the sweaters you could imagine, and strict admonitions not to try and go without gloves just because some of the others who’ve been here longer do.

His breath puffs out in front of him as he jogs over from where he’d been lurking at the side of the admin building (well... it’s really just Brock’s house). “H-hey, Allie.”

"You look frozen, Esteban.”

“It’s not so bad,” Esteban says, cheerful as always, even as his nose looks like Rudolph on a bad day. “I’m getting used to it. I wanted to watch the trucks! Who is this? Are these new people like me?”

“Oh, I’m not like you,” Gyasi says, without judgement, but Allie still sees Esteban’s shoulders hunch a little under his layers, catches the embarrassed flush that darkens him even under the cold. “Gyasi Templeton’s the name. I run meds, mostly. And people.”

“Run...?” Esteban’s curiosity overcomes his mood, and he turns to look at the two trucks and the big van, then back at Allie. 

“I’m a smuggler,” Gyasi announces happily. “I smuggle.”

“Right.” Allie points to the van first. “Her group does runs to Canada through here. Meds, runaways, pet lib groups. Other stuff that it might be hard for us to get hold of on this side of the border, Gya’s group can bring through here.”

“Technically, we go through there.” Gyasi points, gesturing to the forest just visible at the horizon, the soft smudged line of dark green and brown. “It’s a bumpy road, let me tell you, halfway up a fucking mountain and back, uh.. you said Esteban?”

“Yeah,” Esteban’s replies, shyly, half-hidden behind Allie. “That’s my name.”

“You pick it out?” Gyasi’s not really that interested, just making conversation. Allie can see her distraction - she’s in a hurry to get moving, hoping to make it through the trees before nightfall and the snow make things too difficult or dangerous and force them to wait it out. 

Esteban, though, doesn’t seem to notice. “Yes! Dr. Osmond let me choose my own name, he was very kind to me. He was very kind.”

Allie swallows, jaw setting into a firm line, shoulders tensing. She, after all, has seen what the kids hands look like under those gloves. Scarred and with one pinky permanently bent, one of his other fingers doesn’t even close. 

“No, he wasn’t,” Gyasi says, and she glances back at the truck, with its engine still rumbling. 

“What?” Esteban blinks. 

“Nobody kind has a runaway Boxie who goes this fucking far to get away from them.”

Esteban looks away, something shifting in his expression. Allie, as a rule, doesn’t give a fuck about sob stories. She has her own, and she’s heard so many on top of that. She stopped letting them sink into her skin a long time ago. But she finds herself wondering what Esteban’s expression - wistful, sad, but oddly bittersweet, too - could possibly mean. 

“Ethan wasn’t nice,” He mumbles. “But Dr. Osmond was, in the lab where I was first.”

Then he gives Gyasi and Allie another bright smile, but it’s more brittle than it was before. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” He says politely. 

Allie frowns, though. “The lab, Estenban? You mean Facility, right?”

“The lab,” Esteban says patiently. “In the Facility. Where I grew up. I’m gonna go, it’s getting cold.”

“Wait, what do you-”

“Later, Allie.” He bumps his shoulder lightly against Allie’s arm as a kind of farewell, and crunches his way back out of the road and onto the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the adjustment house, the first place anyone stays until they’re ready to settle down.

Allie watches him go, a chill settling into her chest.

What lab? Where he grew up? Leslie said he came out of some exec’s house. And the exec sure wouldn’t be a doctor... 

“Cute kid,” Gyasi says, startling Allie back out of her thoughts. “But we have a contact waiting for us at an auto shop in Nick’s Island. Next time we’ll get coffee, right, Allie-cat? And you’ll finally watch Clue with me?”

Allie feels something flutter in her chest. Esteban’s odd mysterious statements forgotten, she quickly nods. “Will do, Gya. Stay safe.”

“I never stay safe, it’d ruin my fun.” Gyasi crushes Allie briefly back into another hug, and then climbs back up into her truck, settling back in. “Let them know we’re going through, we’ll be there in ten or fifteen.”

Allie’s already pulling out her radio. “Your escort’ll be ready for you when you hit the path. You already paid up?”

“Yeah, I paid Brock half direct. You’ll get the other half of your cut when we come back.”

“Right. Half in cash, half in meds.”

“Same as always. See ya, Allie.”

Gyasi’s truck rumbles away, the second truck and then the van following after it. Allie radios the group working the road through the woods today, but her mind keeps going back to Esteban. Dr Osmond. A lab. Where I grew up.

Now what in the hell does that mean?

-

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @astrobly @doveotions @whump-tr0pes @symphony-of-greys @orchidscript @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @wildfaewhump

[nuestraluzdelaluna]

Thank you guys so much for 200 followers, this means so much to me!! Special thank you to everyone that’s always commenting and reblogging works, y’all are angels.

Since i love prompt lists i decided to do my own. So inspired by @emwritesfootball and @footballerimaginess put together a list with prompts i loved.

All credits for the prompts go to @creativepromptsforwriting and @palettes-and-prompts, check out they’re pages they are amazing!!

Request with the number and from which list you are choosing from,i’ll be taking more than one person for each prompt. If they’re crossed out they’re taken.

Touching

Feeling another human’s touch.

full masterlist

1) touching foreheads

2) running fingers through hair | Julian Brandt | Virgil van Dijk | Leon Goretzka

3) hiding face in neck | Kylian mbappé | Jadon sancho | Leroy sané

4) caressing the other’s hand | Dele | Leon Goretzka

5) feeling their pulse

6) patting the other’s head | James Maddison

7) holding hands | Leroy Sané | Kai Havertz

8) shielding the other one with their body | Jadon sancho | Leon Goretzka

9) listening to the other’s heartbeat | Reiss Nelson

10) spooning at night | Leon Goretzka | Mason Mount | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

11) laying their hand on the other’s neck | Dele

12) pushing a strand of hair behind their ear | Virgil van dijk

13) nudging the other one | Leon Goretzka

14) putting an arm around the other’s waist | Leon Goretzka | Kai Havertz

15) hugging each other | Robin koch

16) massaging them | Joe Gomez | Kai Havertz | Leon Goretzka

17) holding the other’s chin up | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

18) squishing the other’s cheek | Mason Mount

19) high fiving | Leon Goretzka

20) bandaging/stitching up an injury | Dominic Calvert-Lewin | Joe Gomez

21) kissing the other’s brow

22) falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23) carrying the other one in their arms | Dele | Trent Alexander-Arnold

24) whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin | Son Heung-Min | Ben Chilwell

25) stroking the other’s arm soothingly | Héctor Bellerín

26) kissing the top of their head | Julian Brandt

27) pulling the other one towards them | Dominic Calvert-Lewin | Leon Goretzka | Dele

28) feeling for each other in the dark | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

29) tickling the other one | Mason Mount

30) grabbing onto their arm | Mason Mount

31) doing a pinky swear | Ben Chilwell

32) caressing the other’s back | Jadon Sancho

33) washing the other’s body | Julian Brandt | Kai Havertz | Joe Gomez

34) kissing their bruises and scars | Jadon sancho | Trent Alexander-Arnold

35) putting their head on the other’s chest | Robin Koch

36) stroking their leg | Mason Mount

37) patting them on the back | Héctor Bellerín

38) sitting close and knees touching | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

39) braiding the other’s hair

40) sitting on the other’s lap | Kai Havertz

41) touching their elbow to get their attention

Kisses

Showing affections.

full masterlist

1) goodnight kisses | Harry winks

2) hand kisses | Jadon sancho

3) smiling while kissing | Jadon Sancho | Serge Gnabry

4) lips barely touching | Héctor Bellerín

5) morning kisses | Julian Brandt

6) slow kisses | Virgil Van Dijk

7) passionate kisses | Joe Gomez | Mason Mount

8) kisses on the cheek | Dele

9) first kisses | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

10) goodbye kisses

11) welcome home kisses | Leon Goretzka

12) kisses on the corner of their mouth | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

13) frustrated kisses | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

14)kissing each other breathless | Son Heung-Min

15) soothing kisses | Trent Alexander-Arnold

16) nose kisses

16) kisses as a promises | Héctor Bellerín

17) short pecks | Ben chilwell

18) forehead kisses | Jude Bellingham

19) kisses on head

20) “we’ll face this together” kisses | Mason Mount

21) kisses in the rain | Leon Goretzka

22) hard kisses | Ben Chilwell

23) giggling while kissing | Leon Goretzka

24) desperate kisses | Dominic Calvert-Lewin | Kai Havertz

25) neck kisses | Jadon sancho

26) hushed conversation in-between kisses |Jadon Sancho

27) eyelid kisses

28) gentle stroking of cheeks

29) small kisses | Jude Bellingham

30) kissing it better | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

31) jaw kisses | Kai Havertz | Robin Koch | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

32) wake-up kisses | Leon Goretzka

33) kissing away tears | Jadon Sancho

34) public kisses | Mason Mount

35) relieved kisses | Trent Alexander-Arnold

36) kisses for comfort

37) tummy kisses | Héctor Bellerín | Leon Goretzka

38) kisses to shut them up | Julian Brandt | Mason Mount

39) slowly kissing down the body | Joe Gomez

40) “we’ll see each other again” kisses | Kylian mbappe

41) kissing each finger

42) sleepy kisses | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

43) angry kisses | Jadon sancho

44) feather-light kisses

45) kisses with trembling lips | Joe Gomez

Smut dialogue prompts

1) “You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up.” | Julian Brandt

2) “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”

3) “How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?” | Jadon sancho

4) “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught.” | Joe Gomez | Ben Chilwell

5) “You look good all soaking wet.” | Dele

6) “Are you sure that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.” | Jadon sancho | Virgil van Dijk

7) “Oh my god you’re so much better than the last person I was with.”

8) “If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.” | Leon Goretzka | Jadon Sancho

9) “I don’t care how good it feels you’d better not cum until I tell you to.” | Jadon sancho

10) “Look, I’m not into choking but I wouldn’t mind if you grabbed me by the neck every once in a while.” | Virgil van Dijk

11) “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.” | Jadon Sancho

12) “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily.” | Trent Alexander Arnold

13) “Touch yourself for me.” | Virgil van dijk

14) “Do you think you deserve to be punished?”

15) “You take my fingers so well don’t you?” | Karin Havertz

16) “Shut up and take your pants off.” | Leon Goretzka

17) “When I get home I expect you to be undressed and waiting on all fours for me.” | Mason Mount

18) “Are you wearing my shirt?” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

19) “Do you need me to finger you first?” | Leon Goretzka

20) “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.” | Mason Mount

21) “Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!” | Jadon Sancho

22) “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.” | Ben chilwell

23) “I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.” | Jadon sancho

24) “Maybe if I punish you it’ll help you remember who you belong to next time.” | Trent Alexander-Arnold

25) “Do you want it on your back or would you like to be on your stomach?” | Mason Mount

26) “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” | Leon Goretzka

27) “Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

28) “If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

29) “Take it off. Slowly.” | Héctor Bellerín

30) “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

31) “Why don’t you go put on something pretty for me?” | Eric Dier

32) “Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice.” | Héctor Bellerín | Trent Alexander-Arnold

33) “Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.” | Trent Alexander-Arnold

34) “I love the sounds you make when you come undone.” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

35) “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.” | Julian Brandt

36) “You’d better watch your fucking mouth.”

37) “Did I say you could stop?”

38) “I need you. Now!” | Son Heung-Min

39) “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

40) “I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” | Virgil van dijk

41) “You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here, I don’t care how many people are watching.” | John stones

42) “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

43) “Don’t you want to play with me? | Leon Goretzka

44) "Yes! I mean yes, Sir!” | John stones

45) “When we get home I’m cuffing you to the bed and going down on you all night until my jaw is sore.” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin | Kylian Mbappé

46) “Wanna see what I’m wearing underneath all this?” | Leon Goretzka

47) “You deserve a reward for being so good today, what would you like it to be?”

48) “I can’t wait to put bruises all over that pretty skin.”

49) “You look so good on your knees like that.”

50) “I only want to please you.”

51) “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?”

52) “Are you going to be good from now on?”

53) “Is that a tattoo?” | Julian Brandt

54) “These walls are pretty thick, which means you and I can be as loud as we want.”

55) “Well, since you want to cum so badly, why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.” | Joe Gomez | Mason Mount

56) “Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you.” | Kai Havertz | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

57) “I wonder what your girlfriend/boyfriend would do if they knew what you were doing right now.” | Trent Alexander-Arnold | Joe Gomez

58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” | Héctor Bellerín | Leon Goretzka

59) “So desperate for it, aren’t you? Well, if you want it so bad you’d better start taking it.” | Joe Gomez

60) “Please? I’ll be good, I promise!”

61) “If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.” | Julian Brandt

62) “I bet all our neighbors can hear you, I bet they all know what a dirty little slut you are.”

63) “Open your mouth.” | John stones

64) “I never knew someone could cum that fast just from a few fingers.” | Leon Goretzka

65) “Pull my hair!”

66) “If you leave the house wearing that then the second you get back home I’m going to bend you over that bed.”| Leon Goretzka

67) “If you want to cum you’d better beg.”

68) “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

69) “Come here, baby, let Mommy/Daddy take care of you.” | Julian Brandt

70) "Say my name over and over again and, once you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good.“ | Julian Brandt.

71) "I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

72) “Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that?” | Trent Alexander-Arnold

73) “I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.” | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

74) “Wow, I think you’re blushing even redder than the vibrator inside you.” | Virgil van Dijk

75) “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.” | Julian Brandt

76) “I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth.” | Neco Williams

77) “Tell me what you like.” | Trent alexander-arnold

78) “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” | Jadon sancho

79) “Look at you, grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?” | Leon Goretzka

80) “How do you feel about two at once?”

81) “Is that a thong?” | Joe Gomez

82) “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” | Jadon sancho

83) “Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you?”

84) “I love it when you dress up for me.”

85) “Did you dress up just for me?” | Eric Dier

86) “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.” | Trent Alexander-Arnold

87) “Think you can handle that much?”

88) “Mmm, good morning to you too.” | Son Heung-Min

89) “Just pull the car over!”

90) “What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing.” | Héctor Bellerín

91) “Aww, is my little princess/prince getting shy?” | jadon sancho

92) “Come on, take it all on your own like a good little pet.”

93) “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” | Kai Havertz | Mason Mount

94) “Be a good girl/boy and do what I tell you.”

95) “That tickles.”

96) “Were you touching yourself without permission?”

97) “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.” | Trent Alexander-Arnold

98) “I see the gift I got you fits well.” | Leon Goretzka

99) “You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.” | Ben Chilwell

100) “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” | Jadon sancho

[sif-the-tsunami]

A king meets his queen

Summary: Henry has a somewhat anonymous encounter with a Persephone cosplayer at a hotel bar.

Warnings, sleezy men, and smut. unprotected sex, oral sex for everyone 

rating 18+ smut below the cut

Word count: 3.3K

Texas in August was something no mere mortal should have to endure, and even though it was still sticky with humidity, the hotel bar was full of people milling around. The only way to really describe the heavy air near the Gulf Coast was to say that it was moist. Between the low buzz of conversation, the women on stage singing bluesy country songs, and the sweet and smokey bourbon took away the stresses of the day for the woman seated on a low leather sofa. She swayed to the rhythm of the acoustic guitars and the women singing cover songs.  There was a fun mix of people still wearing their costumed from the convention happening about two blocks away from the hotel she was staying in.

Long pink ringlets bounced as she enjoyed the steel guitars, her friends had gone back to their hotel room after they finished their drinks. The women still in their elaborate cosplay outfits were wonderful for people watching, even though she sat in her own. A floor length black gown hugs her body, with a deliciously low neckline and two teasing slits up to the tops of her thighs. Attached to the back was a thin cape that dragged behind her with delicate pink petals in swirling patterns. One the top of her perfectly pink hair was a tiara made of dark crystals with two little blue flowers on the right side. Noticing that her glass was empty, she decided to head to the bar for a new drink.

“Hello there princess Pinkie Pie, what are you drinking?” An eager blond man came up to her, blocking her access to the bar. “Let me get you another.”

“Hi, excuse me. Thank you, I’m fine.” She tried to move away.

“Come on, a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.” He said a little too eagerly. He kept getting closer to her, looming over her even though she was wearing heels. “You are here by yourself, you need a little company.”

“I’m waiting for someone, thank you, again. I’m fine.” She looked down for a second so she wouldn’t step on her cape.

“Don’t be like that sweet thing, I would love to keep you company while you wait for your friend.” He put his hand on her upper arm and she yanked herself back. Before she could say anything a tall, dark haired man pushed himself between her and the blond man. He hovered his hand over her exposed shoulders as he made himself look as large as possible as he got her out of the way of the potential danger.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” The new man said leading her to the bar. “Are you alright?”

She peeked around the broad man, and the blond seemed to roll his eyes, walking away. Still not sure if she was safe, she nodded. She said a little louder than normal, “Yes, sweetheart. Its so nice for you to join me finally.”

“I’m sorry to intrude, I’m sure that you could have handled yourself but I thought it would have been safer for everyone if I got you away from him. He had been making some comment earlier that suggested he had anything other than good intentions.” The man’s voice was deep and reverberating like a cello. They waited for their turn with the bartender. His English accent made him stand out from the Texan locals. His dress pants and shirt were also heads and tails better looking than the rest of the room. He looked like he could be James Bond.

“He’s not the first guy to hassle me at a bar, he won’t be the last. I’m more upset that he called me Pinkie Pie than anything else. And thank you, I mean it, that was kind of you.”

“Anytime, truly, and Pinkie Pie, like the Little Pony?” The man asked, with a comical head tilt. He ordered himself a whiskey, and offered to get her a drink, she ordered herself another bourbon. He was clearly amused by her order.

“Yeah, I know right, nothing about this says kid’s cartoon.” She said, gesturing with her hands to her dress.

“No, if my nephews watched a cartoon with you in it, I would be very confused. Please, forgive my ignorance. Who are you dressed as?”

“Persephone, Goddess of Spring, Queen of the Underworld.” He handed her the glass of smokey amber liquor. She raised her glass in a small toast to him.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I’m He….” he was cut off when his companions eyes grew large.

“Oh shit, he’s coming back, do you mind walking with me?” She gently placed her hand on his forearm. He looked around and sure enough that other man seemed to be staring down the woman.

“Of course, Your Highness.” He said with an amused eyebrow lift. They moved to dark corner with a comfortable looking sofa. He sat down with his legs spread out comfortably, with a little hip wiggle once he was down.

“I’m not keeping you from anyone, am I?” Persephone asked her white knight.

“No, I am in town for the convention but by myself. You?”

“I have a bunch of girl friends with me for the con as well.” The two ended up chatting for a while, they laughed and bonded over books, video games and movies they both enjoyed. When their glasses were empty her new friend asked if she wanted another. He seemed to enjoy her company, and she was enjoying staring into his deep blue eyes. When the light hit just right, she could see a small spor of brown. She politely declined the whiskey, but asked for a tonic water with lime. During the few minutes that her well dressed friend was away, the blond man hovered closer. When he returned, handing her the water, Persephone leaned in closer to him.

“He’s coming near us again, do you mind that I’m in your bubble?”

He moved his arm around her shoulders, oh my lord he smells good, she thinks. She tentatively rested a hand on his knee. A careful glance around, the man still seemed to be hanging around the peripherals. “No, not at all. I’ve been enjoying our conversation. It’s been a while since I’ve just gotten to geek out with someone new.”

He leaned in closer to her and he put his other hand on hers. Anyone else looking at them would assume they were a cute couple on a date. “This is going to be really forward, but I’m going to ask you to kiss me, because our friend is still looking and I think that might really send the message home.”

He gulped and nodded, then kissed her as convincingly as he could. Every nerve in her body was suddenly on fire.  His kissing became more passionate. His hand went from her knee and started sliding toward her thigh.  He asked her, his voice husky, “Is this alright, little goddess?”

She nodded and then leaned back into him. Placing on hand on his beautiful face. She moaned into their kiss and bit his lower lip gently. They pulled apart for a moment, and the first thing out of her lips was “Do you want to get something to eat? I know of a place within walking distance if you want to try something fun.”

She was desperate to get to know him better, and she wanted to know him physically but she wouldn’t make it too easy for him. His pupils were blown out with lust, his heart was beating in his ears. He had to catch his breath just a little.

“I could eat...” He nods. They began to stand up. “Before we leave the hotel I want to go up to my room and grab my jacket, do you mind?”

“No, not at all.” He held her hand and led her out of the hotel bar.  He said a quiet word to the bouncer about the blond man and they moved out to the hallway. As they wait for the elevator to chime, the two start making out. The metallic doors open and she pulls him in with her. He pressed the button for his floor. He nuzzles his face into her neck, planting sweet kisses and nibbles gently where her shoulder and neck meet.

“Mmm.” he almost purred. “Since our introduction was interrupted, if you, my darling, are Persephone, I suppose you could just call me Hades.”

“Well that depends a little, do you plan on kidnapping me?” She half joked as he kissed her neck.

“No, my little goddess, but I will treat you like a queen tonight.” He whispered into her ear then nibbled on her her ear lobe.

He knelt down and scooped the woman up from under her bum, wrapping her legs around his waist then pinning her to the wall of the elevator. He slid a hand up one of the slits of her dress, seeing at the tops of her stocking clad legs was a garter belt with her silky panties over the straps.

“I think you put these on in the wrong order, Your Highness.” He chuckled.

“What? Put me down for a second. No. If I put my panties on under the belts, I couldn’t do this.” She said taking the undergarment off and holding them in her hand. Her Hades started to laugh more. She then looked at her panties in her hand and then back at him. “Oh… I see what you did there.”

The elevator door dinged saying they were on his floor. He yoinked her panties out of her hands and danced off the lift. She playfully chased after the man to his room door. He walked in, grabbed his coat and wallet from the room.

“We can always order in?” He suggests.

“Do you really want cold cheeseburgers?”

“No, not really.”

“Trust me, they have a chef’s plate that is absolutely phenomenal. We have all night, handsome, let’s enjoy each other’s company.” She said, biting her bottom lip hopefully. Her hands ached to hold him again, her lips burned to kiss him.

The well dressed man chuckled. “I suppose you are right. Let’s go get a bite to eat.”

Persephone leaned in the corner of the elevator, her companion leaned down and kissed her again. His touch was hungry and urgent.  He starts kissing her neck again and murmured “I think I want my dessert first.”

Her Hades knelt down in front of her, and started kissing the exposed parts of her thighs, gingerly lifting the center panel of her dress. Impossibly blue eyes looked up at her. “May I?”

She nodded, he began gently massaging, kissing and licking at her exposed sex. She moaned in bliss, enjoying his attention. He slid a finger into her sweet center and started coaxing pleasure out of her. “You taste so good. That’s right, my little goddess, come on my face.”

The elevator slowed down and chimed. He quickly adjusted her dress as the doors opened. She was still panting and gasping as she made eye contact with the older couple wanting to get on.

“Why yes, ma’am, I don’t think your ankle is sprained, however you need to be really careful with those shoes.” He said loudly, trying to cover up what they were doing.

“Uh, we’ll wait for the next one.” The older man said. And the doors closed. She looked down, and they started laughing. She leaned her head back and then he proceeded to worship at her alter. He moved one of her legs on top of his shoulder to give him better access. Before long her eyes were rolling back, grinding her hips against his face and tongue. He moved his tongue back and forth, occasionally swirling and lapping at her clit. He slid a second finger into her rhythmically thrusting his fingers inside of her as he sucked on her sensitive nub.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come.” She laced her fingers through his hair as the wave of pleasure overwhelmed her.  He kissed her thigh that was on his shoulder. She gasped, holding onto the handles on the walls, trembling.

“Good girl.” Pulling her panties out of his pocket, he cleaned the arousal off of his face. “I can definitely go for something a little more filling now.”

“Is it too late to choose room service?” His Persephone asks, still out of breath. He stood up, and wrapped his arm around her to brace her.

“Oh no, Miss, we are going to this restaurant you hyped up. Although, if you keep being a good girl, little goddess, this is what is waiting for you.” He took her hand from the bar on the wall she was holding, and placed it on his erection. Her eyes grew wide as she felt how thick he was. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I promise I know what I’m doing. I won’t hurt you.”

He adjusted himself as the elevator opened on the ground floor to make his discomfort less obvious. They walked across the street from the hotel to the restaurant, the dining room was lively. The hostess looked panicked over the excess of patrons.

“How many for your party?”

“Just two, ma’am.” Her Hades stated.

“We have one table available, it’s the chef’s table. Otherwise it will be a thirty minute wait.”

“Its fine with me if its alright with you,” His little goddess said to him.

Sitting at the chef table of the restaurant, the companions had to sit side by side, learning more about each other. Persephone insisted that they ordered the chef plate the came with a variety of meats, cheeses, mustard and little other tasty bites. There were deviled eggs with crispy pork belly bits and bacon wrapped sweet potato batons. The volume of the restaurant caused them to keep leaning in to hear the other person. The culinary team brought them freshly made pretzels to try with the mustard. They enjoyed a lovely meal, the food was delicious, the conversation never dulled. He would run his hands on the exposed skin of her leg closest to him. It was like they had been friends for years. When the check came, they play fought over who was going to pay. She practically begged their server in the name of feminism and equality to let her pay the bill.

“Let me pay for my mistakes.” She teased. “Besides, this was my idea.”

On the way out, with his smooth cello voice, he asked, “So, what made you want us to grab food? Aside from having a booze mop.”

The goddess of spring cosplayer lowered her head for a moment, pink curls falling forward, “I guess, I just didn’t want to be seen as being easy.”

“Oh no, darling.” he came up and rubbed his hands over arms. “You are a rare creature. I don’t think I’ve met anyone as warm as you have been. I understand if you are not up for returning with me to my room. However, I would appreciate it if you did.”

“I mean, if you still have an appetite. I know you had your dessert already.” She said with a wicked smile. He leaned in and kissed her ravenously. “Yes, I think that answers my question.”

Even though the sun had set hours ago, the air was still heavy with humidity. They made it into the hotel elevator with a new found urgency, unable to keep their hands off of each other. He kept his hand on the small of her back when they were in front of other guests but as soon as their small chamber was vacant, he groped and pawed at her. This had to have been the slowest elevator in the entire southwest. He whispered what he wanted to do to her once they reached his room as he nibbled and caressed her neck and exposed shoulders.

They made their way into his room, tugging and pulling off the other’s clothes. The coat jacket was thrown over his shoulder as they began exploring the other. His pink haired goddess unbuttoned the soft linen of his light blue shirt, looking upon the thick curly hair on his chest. She placed soft kisses on his chest as they exposed the freckles that laid in waiting under the fabric.  The shirt was removed, then his belt, he kicked off his dress shoes.

“I want to rip this dress off,” He said lustfully.

“You are going to have to, I’m sewn into it..” She raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm, but I can’t have you parading home in the buff. That is no way to treat the Queen of the Underworld, is it?” He pressed his fingertips gently into her hips as he pulled her to the couch. She was pulled onto his lap, throwing the center panel of her dress over her hip, exposing her sensuous core to him. He reached in between her legs again and started rubbing his thumb against her most sensitive part.

“I want you, my little goddess, my Persephone.” With his other hand, he placed his hand on the back of her neck to pull her down to kiss her again. She moved her hand to the button on his trousers. He took his hands away from her and pull down his pants and exposed himself to her. It was the thickest erection she had ever seen. “I know, sweet girl, I promise I wont hurt you. If you say we stop, we stop immediately.”

“It is really cute that you think you’ll hurt me, I’m not as delicate as I look.” She positioned herself to ease herself down on him. Her warmth overwhelmed him, once she stopped moving he grabbed her hips.

“Baby, you feel so good. Give me a second, you are going to make me cum.” He sounded like he was in pain. Gasping, he grabbed one of her breasts through her dress. “Shit, I promise that this isn’t how it usually is. Fuck, you feel so good.”

She squeezed herself on him and his jaw went slack. After a moment’s pause, they start moving slowly in unison. He groaned and gasped as she arched her back to let him in deeper. Their bodies complimented each other in ways they didn’t know could happen. He watched as her cheeks and chest became warm with her rising climax, coaxing his own out of him. She bucked against him as she succumbed to her orgasm. Her Hades started thrusting deeper and harder, he whimpered as his orgasm threatened to irrupt.

“Baby, I’m going to cum.” He whispers breathlessly. His little goddess moved off his lap quickly and positioned herself between his legs. She greedily put his cock in her mouth and begins to suck on the head of his cock while pumping her fist on his shaft.  “Oh fuck… oh fuck, I’m..”

She felt the pulsing as he came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop of him. Looking up at the quivering man, he twitched and trembled. He reached out for her to hold her and kiss her more. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, resting his head on hers. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I swear to god that I last longer than that normally, but oh, little goddess, you fucking rub me the right way.” His voice trembled. “Stay the night with me. Let’s… lets do that again. Please? Besides, you can show me the best place to get breakfast.”

“I suppose, but I think we should finally introduce ourselves. Don’t you think?” She giggled.

 @littlewrenofrivia what do you think?

[slutforagoodsmut]

Pinky Promise (Valerius x Reader)

Genre: Angst, In da feelings ;-;

Song: By Ellise

You were tired, to say the least. Tired and frustrated and basically over everything. You had given your all to Valerius; your attention, dedication and love, and yet that never seemed to be enough. He wanted more, so much more than you could ever offer. He wanted someone with status, he wanted someone with power, and you simply didn’t have either.

Things were so good between you and the consel in the beginning. You loved him, and he loved you, and there was nothing else to it. You both understood each other, you adored one another, between the late night walks in the garden at the palace and the endless conversations, it’s almost as if you both were meant to be, almost as if it was destiny.

Yeah.....almost.

The love letters became scarce over time, the only thing Valerius ever talked about in his letters nowadays were when the next meetings were with the Countess, or what the plans were to better the economy. Don’t get me wrong, you enjoyed getting messages from him regardless, but it couldn’t help but sting a little. He didn’t hold your hand the way he used to, barely kissed you, he didn’t look at you with the same loving eyes, Gods—you practically had to beg him to spend the night with you. He was just so....cold. And you had enough. You felt like this was all so one sided, as if nothing mattered to Valerius anymore. Did he even ask how you were anymore? Did he ever say that he loved you? And the answer was no. You never wanted to admit it, but a hatred formed inside you for that man, it was quickly engulfing any love and affection you had for him. The nights were restless, you barely ate since your anxiety was so high, functioning during the day was near impossible. You didn’t want to believe things were over, you never wanted that. But what else could you possibly do? Were you truly the reason why this relationship has even lasted? Because you’ve never wanted things to end and Valerius was too coward to break things off?

“I believe that concludes our meeting for the month, speak up if you have any questions.” The Countess and your good friend Nadia stood from her seat. Consels from many other regions came to take part in this meeting, including Valerius. You sat near Nadia, all the way across from your “lover”, and in between Julian and Asra. You kept your eyes on Valerius the whole time, and not once did he look at you. Of course this was an important meeting, but still, he’d always throw you a little wink or smirk. Everyone around the table shook their heads, content with the material that was looked over for the next few months of trading. Many took their leave, only a few still lingering in the room, when a voice spoke up from behind you.

“Actually, Countess, I do have a couple of suggestions.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at Valerius. Of course he did. Of course he did. Nadia gave him her full attention, Valerius coming up beside you. “Yes, Consul Valerius?” It just so happened that his fingers brushed yours at your side, attempting to curl around them but you quickly pulled away. You felt his eyes burn into your head at the corner of your eye.

“Ah, yes, well, perhaps I could propose a different strategy to quicker trading routes? Maybe if our goods were boarded from a closer port in Pakra—”

“I will see you in the evening, Nadia.” You pushed passed Valerius, bumping into his shoulder as fury bubbled within you. That. That. That POMPOUS PRICK. You quickly made your way to your room, slamming the door behind you and groaning out in frustration. You were so confused, he sent so many mixed signals. He was so moody and harsh most days but those little gestures completely messed you up. What did he want? What does he want from you?

After a few minutes of pacing in your room, there was a banging on your door. Not a simple knock, but a bang. You went over to your door and swung it open, and it was non other than the consel. His gaze was harsh, his upper lip curled up into a snarl.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Whatever the fuck do you mean, what?” He spat. “What was that back there?” Valerius pointed down the hall.

“Nothing happened! You’re being dramatic!”

“Dramatic?” Valerius pushed his way inside your room and closed the door. “You shoved me in front of the Countess and many other consuls! Do you realize how that could spark rumors?”

“Are....are you joking?” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Are you delirious? You went to grab my hand in front of the countess! I merely bumped into you! How could that possibly spark rumors?”

“Anything could branch out into rumors!”

“So that makes you a hypocrite, yes?” You pointed your finger at Valerius, who for a second got his tongue tied in a knot and couldn’t speak. “Godforbid anyone finds out you’re in a relationship with the “witch”, your whole world would come crumbling down! Wouldn’t it?” You became progressively louder, grabbing books and chucking them all over the room. “Your social status! Your power! All of it would be stripped away! Some days you act like you hate me, others you act like I’m the greatest person to walk the earth!” You got closer to Valerius, staring up at him as your fists shook, tears pricking your eyes. “What in the ever living fuck did I do to you? What is it? What is so embarrassing about me that others can’t know about us?”

Furious wasn’t even the right word you would describe Valerius’ face right now. It was contorted into such an angry, flustering mess, as if he were caught up in his own web of lies and hypocrisies. “They just.....can’t.”

“I....” You were dumbfounded, to say the least. “I’m over this...”

“Of course you are, it’s always how you end our arguments—“

“No, I mean this,” you gestured to the both of you, furrowing your brows, “this isn’t working. We fight, we scream at each other, nothing is solved. I’m done with having my emotions toyed with.”

A flash of shock gleamed across Valerius’ eyes, stepping back a bit. “What are you saying?”

You stepped back yourself, taking in a deep breath, trying to get your shit back together before blowing like a volcano again.

I gotta ask you a question

Can you see through me

See how I’m feeling?

Is it easy to tell?

You looked away from him, squeezing your eyes shut as you moved passed Valerius, opening the door and leaving your own room.

“Come back here!”

Cause you’re making plans and it’s starting to scare me

I don’t think you notice I’m not doing well

You know me, I’ve been patient

It’s been hard

It’s wearing me down

You peered over your shoulder, throwing him a sharp, hateful look as you walked down the hall. “Wait a second!” He grabbed your shoulder as you turned the corner, but you smacked his arm away, turning to face him on your heel.

So I’m sorry

But caring ‘bout you is getting so exhausting

Doing things I swore that I would never do

Never do

But I promise you, I promise you

I promise to be honest

Cause honestly boy I don’t even want this

Doing things I swore that I would never do

Never do

But I promise you

I pinky promise I don’t love you anymore

Despite your harsh words, Valerius continued to follow you down the halls of the Vesuvia Palace, attempting to grab your attention again. “For heavens sake can you just stop for a moment?” His voice thick with fear.

We’re both in different places

And I need some space

And we’re probably better not talking at all

You finally turned back around, your jaw clenched as your hands rested on his shoulders, holding him in his tracks.

Cause maybe I don’t deserve you

I don’t wanna hurt you

Can’t give you a smile if it’s just for a show

You know me, I’ve been patient

It’s been hard

It’s wearing me down

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks as you almost pressed against his warm, comforting body you slept against oh so many nights. Were you really doing this? Were you truly going to break things off?

So I’m sorry

But caring ‘bout you is getting so exhausting

Doing things I swore that I would never do

Never do

But I promise you, I promise you

I promise to be honest

Cause honestly boy I don’t even want this

Doing things I swore that I would never do

Never do

But I promise you

I pinky promise I don’t love you anymore

Valerius gulped, trying to swallow back any emotion that attempted to come up. He went to grab your waist with trembling hands but of course you pulled away, not giving him the chance to. You turned another corner, and before the both of you knew it you were headed into the ballroom.

“I—“

We talked about a future but now it’s in the past

I don’t regret the memories but knew they wouldn’t last

I know that’s it’s not easy to give up what we had

I made myself a promise and I’m not looking back...

“Please!” Valerius fell to his knees, grabbing your wrists and holding them tightly in his palms. “Please....don’t do this....things could change.” His head hung low, his shoulders shaking as his body racked with silent sobs. “Things could be better....” A silence fell over the both of you. You pressed your lips into a tight line, looking away as more tears threatened to mess with your vision some more. Gods, he looked so pathetic and vulnerable.

You pulled out of his grip.

So I’m sorry

But caring ‘bout you is getting so exhausting

Doing things I swore that I would never do

Never do

But I promise you, I promise you

I promise to be honest

You gripped your hair in frustration, stomping on the ground as your heart began to shatter into millions of pieces. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t how things were suppose to go! He was suppose to be there forever, right?

Right....?

Cause honestly boy I don’t even want this

Doing things I swore that I would never do

Never do

But I promise you

“I pinky promise I don’t love you anymore....” Your hand clasped around your mouth. Unspoken words had come to life. Untold truths were out in the open. You didn’t love him anymore. Not in love with him at least. You wished him well in whatever he did, but this could not continue. The pounding of your heart rang in your ears and you attempted to wipe your endless tears away.

“I...just....” the consul just sat there, absolutely horrified. He was disheveled, his braid starting to tangle, his face streaked with tears, his eyes swollen and red. For a man of great honor and status, he certainly did not look like such. You stumbled back, choking on a sob as you turned your back on the man you once loved, rushing out so you could suffer this heartbreak alone in your room. He wasn’t going to chase you anymore. He wasn’t going to beg for you anymore. People must’ve saw your little scene with Valerius. He’d have a reputation to fight for.

I pinky promise I don’t love you anymore....

[inctlife]

Football | NYT ~ Hiroaki

genre: slight angst, fluff

summary: in which yuta talks to hiroaki about his interests and assures him about being a man

age: Hiroaki = 8 / Airi = 12

warnings: none

____________

“Mum! Can I go to the park?” Hiroaki exclaimed, running into the kitchen, already pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

You shrugged, “I don’t see why not. Who’s there?”

“Some kids from school,” Hiroaki said, “we’re gonna play football.”

“Football? Okay,” you said, “have fun! I’ll text you when you need to start heading back.”

Hiroaki hummed, pulling on his boots before leaving through the front door.

He walked with a bounce in his step, all the way down the street and down the main road beside the street until he reached the park.

“Hi guys!” Hiroaki exclaimed.

“Hiro!” Daehyun laughed, “finally! Now we have even teams. Come with us.”

Hiroaki hummed, jogging over and standing in the field with Taehyun. There was ‘goals’ on either end made with only their jumpers.

Suddenly, Hiroaki’s friend, Jiho, kicked the ball. It landed in front of Hiroaki, the Japanese boy panicking and kicking it back to a member of the other team.

“Hiro!” Taehyun scolded, “what did you do that for?!”

“I’m sorry,” he shrugged, “I panicked. Let’s start again.”

______________

“You’re back early! Dinner’s gonna be ready in like 10 minutes,” you said.

Hiroaki smiled, though there was no energy and no meaning, “thanks.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning to Airi who was sat on a stool in the kitchen.

“You hear that?” you asked.

Airi took out her earphone, “huh?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, “nevermind.”

Pouring the black bean sauce onto the noodles, you sighed, that must’ve been nothing, right? You were just reading into it, concerned as mothers are.

You ignored your thoughts, laying the noodles and the side dishes on the table.

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” you shouted, your husband busy in his office, your son doing whatever.

You tapped Airi on the shoulder as she got up and moved to the table, Hiroaki and Yuta having joined her by the time you came to sit down.

“Where’d you go?” Yuta asked, his question directed at his son, “you weren’t here when I got home!”

Hiroaki shrugged, “I was out. Football.”

“Football?!” Yuta exclaimed, “I didn’t know you were into football, Hiro. That’s great!”

“Don’t become one of those annoying boys who only talks about football,” Airi sighed, “your anime takes up enough television time, I’m not having football on as well.”

“It won’t!” Hiroaki exclaimed, “Airi, you’re so annoying!”

“Hiro!” you scolded.

“What was that for?!” Airi retorted, glaring at her younger brother.

“Airi, don’t make it worse,” Yuta said.

“How?! He started it!” Airi exclaimed.

“No, you were annoying first!” Hiroaki protested, “I played football once!”

Yuta sighed in relief, the conversation back to normal, “and did you enjoy it?”

“Yes! Of course! I’m a boy, after all!” Hiro cried, his voice sounding defensive.

Yuta nodded, smiling, “okay! That’s good!”

You sighed, passing Airi and Hiroaki both a dumpling, “let’s just get on, okay?”

Airi rolled her eyes, but stuck her hand out anyway, her little brother fighting a smile as he high-fived her, their old-time way of resolving a fight.

“Thank you.”

____________

“Hiro?” Yuta called, excusing himself from washing dishes as he grabbed his son, “I’ve got a ball, wanna play penalties?”

Hiroaki sighed dramatically, “no.”

“O-Oh, okay,” Yuta nodded, watching as Hiroaki ran upstairs as fast as he could, “I’m uncool, aren’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, “no. Something’s been up with him since he got back from the park.”

Yuta furrowed his eyebrows, “should I go and talk to him?”

You shrugged, “boys know boys.”

Yuta sighed, “I’ll go. I don’t wanna see him upset.”

He jogged up the stairs, striking a pose in front of Airi’s room, making his daughter laugh, before strolling over and knocking lightly on Hiroaki’s door.

“Hiro?”

“I don’t wanna play penalties.”

“I’m not gonna ask you to,” Yuta chuckled, “can I come in?”

Hiro sighed, opening the door with a glare.

“Yikes,” Yuta sniffled, walking in and closing the door behind him, “so tell me honestly... is it because I’m uncool?”

“No! Dad, get out of my room if you’re gonna keep talking about football!”

“Alright,” Yuta surrendered, sitting on the end of Hiro’s bed, the eight-year-old sat against the headboard with his knees up, colouring something very intently, “I thought you said you enjoyed it.”

Hiro sighed, sneaking glances at his dad.

“Can I tell the truth?” he asked, his voice suddenly small, the grown-up parts of becoming eight deminishing, a shy little boy showing his true colours to his dad.

Yuta nodded, a small, friendly smile, “always.”

“I didn’t like football at all,” Hiroaki said, putting down his sketchbook, “I never have.”

Yuta furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head, “Hiro, that’s fine. No one said you have to.”

“And I’m really bad at it as well,” Hiroaki said, “so I thought practise would help, but it doesn’t. I just don’t like it.”

Yuta nodded, listening as his son looked at him with wide eyes.

“But, we did dancing in P.E. the other day,” Hiroaki said, his voice even smaller, “and Miss Kim said I’m really good.”

Yuta smiled, “there you go!”

“And the boys in my class made fun of me for it.”

Yuta sighed, “well then they’re just silly pooheads.”

Hiroaki giggled, a smile spreading across his face for the first time that evening.

“You know why?”

Hiroaki shook his head.

“Because when they see people like me and your uncles on stage, would they make fun of us?” Yuta asked, Hiroaki shaking his head, “no! But it’s exactly the same thing. Some of your Uncles started dancing when they were even younger than you! And I’m sure people made fun of them as well.”

“But that’s sad,” Hiroaki said, “when people make fun of you it’s... it’s sad. It hurts.”

Yuta nodded, “I know. But do you know why they carried on? It’s because they loved it. If you really like dance, and you’re good at it, why not continue dancing?”

Hiroaki shrugged, “I want to like football.”

“But you don’t, baby,” Yuta chuckled, “and that’s fine. That makes you no less of a boy. Boys can like anything and everything they want. Me and your Uncles wear make-up, right? And that’s fine. Some boys paint their nails, some boys wear dresses and some dance but some play rugby and wear suits and all of those are completely fine.”

“Really?”

Yuta nodded, “the one thing I want you to remember in life is that you can be anyone and anything you want to be, okay? And people who try and stop you are silly pooheads.”

Hiroaki burst into giggles at the nickname again, collapsing into his dad’s lap.

“Do you promise me you’ll remember that?”

Hiroaki nodded, linking his pinky finger with his dad’s, “I promise.”

[noyoucantpinmedown]

Springtime Swap

For this year's Springtime Swap I had to write for @totaldramablueyonder! This was a lot of fun. I've never written Katie and Sadie so it was good to try them out. I hope you like it!

Courtney didn't have friends. Never had. Never needed to. She got along well enough with her classmates to be somewhat popular, and that was all she needed to be named Student Council President.

But then Katie Ayala and Sadie Li joined the Student Council.

Those two were the chattiest girls Courtney had ever known. Whenever they bumped into each other in the hallways, they would keep her there for a good five minutes before she could excuse herself, and then she'd be late to wherever she was going. And Courtney hated being late.

So when she found out Katie and Sadie were being elected, she had to hold back the urge to slam her head against a wall.

But they impressed her. They showed up to the very first meeting in matching pink pantsuits- their outfits were always coordinated. They proposed doing a bake sale to raise money for homecoming, which Sadie made the budget plans for. Katie got half the school to buy something and charmed the other half into caving in and buying as well. In the end they raised a lot more money than they were aiming for. They were competent, and Courtney could always respect that.

"Courtney!" She heard Katie's high pitched voice from down the hallway, always distinct among the murmuring of the students. In a second, she and Sadie were standing by her locker. "Sadie and I were going to hang out at my house, do you wanna come?"

She blinked. "Oh, um...well thanks, but I have a lot of homework to do and--"

"Oh, that's okay, we do too!" Sadie piped up. "We can all do it together."

Shit. "I just--"

"Come on, it'll be so much fun!"

Courtney sighed and closed her locker. "Fine, okay, I'll come." The girls squealed. "But I can only stay until six, okay?"

Katie was already linking arms with her, Sadie on her other side. "Sure! We'll drive you home!"

The three climbed into Sadie's car, where the talking mingled with the music coming from the radio, which Katie had plugged her phone into.

Katie's walls were painted pink, and the white comforter on her bed was so thick and soft it almost looked like a cloud. "Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?"

Courtney sat down on the bed and began taking out her books. "I'd like some coffee, if you have any."

"I want coffee too!"

Katie nodded and left for downstairs, leaving Courtney alone with Sadie. Which was awkward, because while she wasn't close to either of the girls, she got on with Katie better. Sadie went quiet, so she guessed the feeling was mutual. She looked around the room, looking for something to make conversation with.

There were several posters of singers and bands on the walls. Courtney recognised Selena Quintanilla, One Direction and Little Mix among them. The desk by the window had been taken over by a sewing machine, pattern books and other sewing supplies.

"I didn't know Katie sowed."

"We both do. We make or alter a lot of our clothes", Sadie explained. She was laying down on the bed next to her. "That's how we always match. It's hard to find clothes that have both of our sizes, so..."

"That's really smart."

"Okayy, here's coffee!" Katie stepped through the doorway with a tray, which she set down on her nightstand. "I think we should start with math, just so we get it out of the way."

Courtney was worried that they would get distracted and not get any work done, but despite talking as they worked, they managed to finish all of their work, perhaps faster than Courtney would have done on her own.

When they were done, Katie put on some music and sat at her desk. She had brought a plate with cookies from downstairs. Courtney took a bite out of one while she checked her social media. Sadie was doing the same, and humming along to the music. The three weren't talking, but Courtney felt so relaxed. It really wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. The complete opposite, in fact.

"Katie, I was thinking we could use the fabric from the pantsuits to make rompers, or like a cute top and skirt combo."

The taller girl looked away from the shirt she was replacing a button on. "What? But the pantsuits turned out so well! And taking the stitches out is going to be such a pain."

"Well, yeah, but when are we going to wear them? Like, we literally just made them for the Student Council, and the fabric cost a lot!"

Courtney locked her phone and put it down. "I think Sadie has a good point."

Katie sighed, looking over at the open closet where the hot pink pant and suit jacket were visible. "A top and skirt in this color does sound nice. Oh my God, if we work quickly we could wear them to Geoff's next party."

Sadie looked somewhat satisfied before the prospect of a party distracted her. "He's throwing another one? When?"

Of course he was throwing another party. Geoff was the star quarterback of the school's football team, and his parties were infamous. He was easily the most popular person in school- everybody liked him, and he liked everyone. If he had thought to run for Student Council President, he could probably have given Courtney a run for her money.

"DJ told me that two weeks from now, his parents will be out of town. Oh!" A sudden idea hit her. She patted Courtney's knees to get her attention. "Court, you never come, we should all go together!"

"Oh my God, you totally should! You're like, friends with Bridgette, right? I'm sure she can get you an invite."

Geoff's girlfriend was in the volleyball team with Courtney. They sometimes talked in the hallways, and she liked the girl's laid back, yet grounded attitude. "Yes, we're friend...ish, I guess. But my parents would never let me go. And I have a curfew."

That didn't phase Katie. "You can just tell them you're having a sleepover at my house."

Her eyes widened. "Lie to them? I can't do that!"

She had never lied to her parents, not once. She had never disobeyed them, either.

"It wouldn't be a lie, we'd actually sleep over here after the party." Sadie grabbed a cookie from the plate. "Come on, it'll be so much fun."

"Yeah! Who knows, you might even meet someone."

"Oh, stop!" Sadie rolled her eyes at the suggestive look her best friend gave her. "She's hellbent on finding me the perfect girlfriend." She explained to Courtney.

That made her smile. "That's sweet."

"Do you have your eye on anyone, Court?"

She thought back to Alejandro, the charming exchange student who was too much of a flirt and a sweet-talker for her liking. Then to Duncan, which her recoil- she would die if anyone knew she had ever been attracted to him. Finally they landed on the red-haired boy from shop class that had been so helpful during the bake sale. Just a few days before, she had opened her locker to find someone had slipped a daisy inside through the slits at the top. It was a little damaged from having to fit through such a small opening. She had turned around to see who it might have been, and he was watching her from the other side of the hall. When she caught his eye, he blushed as red as his hair then walked away as quickly as he could.

"Please don't tell anyone."

The girls squealed. "No, of course not!"

"Promise!" Katie offered her pinkie finger, and Sadie imitated her. Courtney pinkie swore with both of them, a giddy smile forming on her face.

"Okay, you know Scott? He built the food stands for the bake sale. Tall, ginger hair, a year below us."

"Oh my God! He totally did that because he likes you. I saw how he looked at you when you thanked him."

"Actually..." She told them about the daisy. The girls squealed again, and Katie reached down to squeeze Courtney's hands.

"That's so sweet!"

"Oh my God, that's so cute!"

"You guys think? I know I can come off a bit strong sometimes. He probably thinks I'm the annoying Student Council chick."

Sadie shook her head. "Why wouldn't he like you? You're, like, super smart, and super pretty too! And some guys like girls with strong personalities."

"Yeah, you're gorgeous. He totally likes you back. He'll probably be at the party, you know. He hangs a lot with Duncan, and Duncan and Geoff are super close."

Courtney cringed inwardly at the mention of the school's resident bad boy, but the idea of going to the party was getting more and more appealing. She could picture herself dancing with the girls, and maybe Bridgette too. Letting loose for once. Feeling as happy as she was feeling now. Maybe she could find Scott and talk to him.

She had been so wrong about these girls- not that she'd ever say it aloud. They weren't vapid, or stupid. They were geninuely kind and skilled.

"You know what?" She said, "the sleepover sounds like a good idea."

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 5

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

(Fair warning, this is about to get even darker. We are moving towards a much deeper connection between Chess and Rick; but I find a deep connection needs a backstory. Also; let me know if you want to be added to my tag list. I’m still new at this, but I love knowing that people are actually reading my dribble.)

TW: sexual harassment/assault, torture, sexual themes, violence

I rubbed my neck, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Did you just microchip me, like some animal?”, I asked. “Something like that”, Flag said, and pulled a radio from his belt. “GQ, get the crate”, he spoke into it, and walked towards the door.

Diablo went to get a t-shirt, hanging over a chair, and put it on. “They got us rigged with some dynamite shit”, he said, and started stretching his shoulders. “Big boom”, Digger said, emulating an explosion coming from his neck. “Knocked String Boys head clean of”. “Slipknot”, Diablo corrected him. “Whatever”, was the answer, as Digger went to lay down on a bench, covering his eyes with his arm; apparently preparing to take a nap.

“Welcome to the family”, Diablo said, smirked at me, and went for a set of dumbbells in his corner.

Croc had pulled a slice of what looked like day-old pizza, from his hoodies pocket, and was eating it with a terrifyingly pleased face.

Harley – motherfucking Harley Quinn – was muttering quietly to herself, before lighting up in a big smile, exclaiming: “Ants!”, and skipping away to do whatever it is psychopathic criminal overladies do, when no one is watching.

The door behind me opened, and Edwards, whose acquaintance I’d made the day before, came into the gym. Behind him, the Tweedles were dragging a large box. Edwards and Flag exchanged a few hushed words; and Flag gazed over his shoulder to meet my eyes, before looking back at his subordinate. “… hope they’re ready”, was all I could make out from their conversation; and chills ran down my spine.

They put the box on the floor in front of me. Flag bent to unlock it, and his t-shirt rode up a bit, revealing some bruises and scratches on his lower back and hip. “Get into a fight?”, I smirked. “Just a feral cat”, he answered, smiling over his shoulder. Apparently, I’d gotten in enough punches, to make him feel it even now, quite a while later.

He opened the lid. “Here’s your shit. If you want to change, there’s a bathroom through that door”, he said, nodding towards the door Harley and Digger had come through. “Just be careful; you might get an audience. Which reminds me”. He walked over to where Digger lay; and kicked at the bench, making the peeping tom fall of it. “Hey jackass! Stop being creepy, and let people shit in peace”. Digger scrambled onto his legs, and made a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”, he boomed, and laid back down, muttering curses under his breath.

“Ladies don’t shit, colonel. We powder our noses”, Harleys voice came from somewhere. Looking up, I saw that she was hanging upside down from a rope, one leg intertwined with it. Twirling her ponytails, she winked at me, before blowing a large bubble with the pink gum in her mouth.

Croc had pulled out a second slice from his pocket, and was chewing away. His enjoyment of the snack was almost obscene. He nodded towards the box in front of me. “What you got in there?”, he asked. I rifled through the things, recognizing some of my own belongings. It was now I realized that none of the crew were wearing all prison garb. Diablo had a bluish varsity jacket hanging from a chair, and Deadshots sneakers were definitely not prison grade; I could tell from the high-end label on the side.

The other three were also wearing some sort of personal addition to the orange pants and tank top, provided by Belle Reve. For Croc, it was his brown velvet hoodie; and Digger had on a coat that looked like it desperately needed a washing. Harley had on a pair of striped pink and blue shorts, held up by suspenders. The shorts barely covered her ass, and showed of the many tattoos on her legs.

Taking my favorite band t-shirt out of the box, I noticed it still had some cat hair stuck to it, from my beloved babies at home. Selina, I’m trusting you to take good care of them, I thought. I put the shirt on the floor beside me, and continued to go through the box. A polaroid of me on stage, my first night at Sammy’s; my copy of Alice In Wonderland; a pair of hot pink socks, I’d knitted myself; an oversized greyish flannel shirt, I’d stolen from an ex; some makeup and black nail polish, in a black purse; and a pair of broken, furry handcuffs – Ahh, Vegas, I smiled. Finally, I pulled out a small stuffed bunny, I’d won at a travelling fair, a few weeks before I’d been taken by Hatter. I stroked its tiny face, and discretely kissed its head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Digger looking at me, sending me a friendly smirk and nod. I smiled back.

I kept searching through the box. “Looking for something?”, Flag said from behind me. “Where are my smokes?”, I sighed. “There were no cigarettes in the box when it arrived”, Flag answered me. He’d already gone through it.

A large scaly hand offered me a pack of Marlboro Lights, and looking up at Croc with a thankful smile; I took one of the cigarettes, and popped it in my mouth. “Anyone have a light?”. Diablos hand appeared in front of my face; pinky stretched. A tiny flame burned from it, taking me by surprise; and I half laughed, half guffawed, as I lit the cigarette.

“I knew you could do that!”, Harleys shrill voice sounded. Her head appeared next to mine, and she rested her chin on my shoulder. She smelled like bubblegum and cotton candy, and for a hot second I was tempted to turn my head and lick her face.

“Who the hell gave Croc access to cigarettes?”, Flag muttered to Deadshot. “You know how he gets when he runs out, and goes cold turkey!”. “You’re telling me, man. There’s still a hole in the wall between his and my cell, from when he ran his fist through it”, Deadshot smirked.

“Ooh! What’s that?”, Harley asked, and reached in to the box, revealing a false bottom. I removed the thin board of metal.

There you are!

Surrounded by the whole crew – a curious Digger having joined us – I picked up a black, cropped and hooded faux leather jacket. The pleather was undamaged still, and putting it on, I pulled up the hood, and closed the zipper. With the help of the hood and the large collar, my face disappeared into shadows. Flag looked at me, lifting his chin; staring me down. His gaze made me slightly uncomfortable – or was it stirred? – and I took off the jacket again.

A loose purple, off the shoulder crop top; and a pair of black, high waist, lycra and mesh leggings completed the outfit. Finding my favorite combat boots in the box, I only needed one thing.

I moved around rope, a crowbar, some lockpicks, and a hammer and chisel. There they were. My claws.

“Cute mittens”, Harley giggled, and grabbed for the black fingerless gloves. “Careful!”, I gasped, and quickly grasped them. Harley pouted. “What? You don’t like sharing your toys?”.

I put on the gloves, made a fist; and from my knuckles sprang 4 curved knives. Edwards and the twins quickly raised their guns at me, prepared to shot, if I tried anything. I rolled my eyes, and noticed Flag trying to hide a smile.

Picking up an old sock, I demonstrated the blades sharpness, by cutting through it. The knives went through the fabric like butter; and Harleys eyes widened. “Oh”, was all she said, after which she took a step back; and went to stand behind Deadshot. “Lady, you got some sharp nails there”, he said, and chuckled.

“You still know how to use them?”, Flag asked, not removing his eyes from the blades on my hands. I just smirked.

I went to stand by the wall. I could feel eyes on my back from my audience. I bent my knees; and then leaped. I grasped the wall with the claws, and started climbing upwards. At the top of the wall was a row of tiny windows. “Don’t do it, Y/N!”, Flag called, as I heard the soldiers cock their guns. I looked over my shoulder, winked at him; and smiled.

I quickly moved laterally on the wall. Gunshots sounded, and the wall beside me suddenly was full of holes. “Hold your fire! Hold your goddamn fire!”, Flag yelled desperately. The gunfire stopped, and I made myself reappear; hanging by my claws from the basketball hoop on the opposite wall. One of the Tweedles cocked his gun again; and everything after that happened in slow motion.

The soldier took aim at me; looking pissed. From out of nowhere, Flag jumped at him; knocking him to the ground. The gun went off; bullet narrowly missing my head – and I fell.

---

I landed on my back; the wind knocked out of me. I closed my eyes, and heard people running towards me. I felt a strong arm under my back, and a hand behind my head. “Y/N”, Flags shaking voice called out. “Come on kitten, wake up”, he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my neck.

I opened my eyes, seeing his face inches from mine, mouth slightly opened to speak again. I suddenly noticed there were specks of green in his brown eyes.

I blinked once. “Are you gonna kiss me now?”, I asked, and smiled crookedly.

Flag let go of me, and pulled back, lips now in a thin line. He stood up, and stormed towards the shooting twin. He grabbed his collar; and slammed him against the wall. “What the fuck is your problem? Do you not know how to follow an order?”. The soldier put his hands up. “Sir, she was going awol!”. “She is an asset. Wallers asset!”. Flag punched Tweedle in the gut; making him double over. “Get this asshole out of here”, he called to Edwards and the other twin; who dragged the panting soldier out of the room, Flag following them to the door, still cursing.

Deadshot crouched in front of me, holding his hand in front of my face, a couple of fingers raised. “How many fingers am I holding up?”, he asked. “What are fingers?”, I joked; making him chuckle again.

He helped me onto my feet. “You are a hard one to kill, Chess”. “Nah”, I answered. “I can die plenty. I think my secret is, I just really don’t want to”, I said, and stretched my arms into the air, feeling my bones pop.

“Why didn’t you run? You could have made it through the window”, Diablo asked from behind Deadshot. “I wouldn’t have made it half a mile. I’m spent”, I answered. “I need energy to smile, and they’ve had me living on cat food for a month. Only just had a real meal yesterday”. “Que cabrón”, Diablo spat.

Politely refusing one of Crocs pocket-pizza slices; I went back to my box of belongings. Kneeling beside it, I quickly changed into the band t-shirt. It had been a snug fit once; but my kibble-diet had made it quite a bit looser.

Flag crouched next to me. “You good?”. He didn’t look at me, but kept his eyes on the ground. “That wasn’t supposed to happen”. I scoffed. “I’m fine. Just a few more bruises to add to the collection”. Flag exhaled. “You can keep the civilian clothes, and three items from the top layer of the box. Your combat equipment will be stored for you, until you need it”. He stood back up. “The rest will be destroyed”.

I scowled at him, and stood up, putting my hands on my hips; swaying back and forth a bit, deciding; then bent over, and started gathering the things I’d chosen. I felt his eyes on me. “Checking out the asset?”, I teased.

“Could you just for a second stop that shit? Stop flirting, and start being serious about the situation you are in!”, he growled at me. “Why? Am I getting in to your head?”, I twirled around, and pouted at him innocently.

He shook his head, and furrowed his brow, scoffing at me. “Just quit it, and do the job we brought you here to do”.

I stepped up to him, and looked him square in the face. “I’ll quit it, when you quit that good soldier bullshit”, I spat. “You had no right to go after me, and no right to keep me here”.

“I have every right”, he said calmly, staring down his nose at me. “You’re a scumbag. A criminal. The world would be better if you just disappeared”. “Oh?”, I asked; not breaking eye contact. “Tell me, what’s the difference between me and the Bat? That asshole is beating up people left and right; no badge, no warrant… He decides who he thinks is a bad guy, and drags them to the front step of Arkham, or airdrops them in to this shithole”.

I stomped away to grab the sack that had been over my head earlier. I stuffed the book, the makeup-purse, and finally the rabbit into it. I saw Deadshot and the others huddled in a corner; obviously trying to give me some space; and pretending not to be staring at the scene.

Flag stormed after me, grabbed my arm, and spun me around; holding me in place, as I struggled. “You are nothing like him. He brings down criminals. You kidnap judges, and torture them”. His face was inches from mine. “He has never stolen money from anyone”. “Maybe that’s because he is already the richest man in the goddamn country!”, I hissed at him. I looked at the squad in the corner. They didn’t seem to have heard.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, Flag asked, and let go of my arm. I rubbed the spot he’d been holding on to. “Never mind”, I quietly answered, not wanting to get into it. The papers I’d seen in Lucius Fox’ safe, had made me put two and two together; but as I’d told Deadshot before, I really didn’t want to die – so mr. holier-than-thou Waynes secret, was safe with me. That was one wasps nest I was not putting my hand into.

Flags face had softened. “What happened with judge Kelper?”. “Your read the file”, I answered, not looking at him. “I kicked his ass”. “Before that”, he demanded. “What made you do it? If you’re not a bad guy, you must have had a reason”. I closed the box, and sat down on it. “Truth?”, I asked. He nodded.

“Kelper would show up at the club sometimes – slumming it. I knew who he was, because he was the judge at an arraignment, where I was charged with pickpocketing for the Hatter”. I folded my hands in my lap. “Someone caught you pickpocketing?”, he smirked, a slight warmth returning to his eyes. “Tetch hadn’t fed me in a couple of days. When my bloodsugar is low, and my energy is down, it’s difficult to keep up the mirage”, I admitted. “Anyway, Kelper would bring in whoever he was paying off, to further his political career, and wave money around; getting the performers to join them at their table. I was stupid enough to take some of it myself”. I winced; remembering how I’d sat on his lap, and played the part of willing participant in his little erotic adventure. Flag looked down. “I never let it go any further than a lapdance”, I said, actually worried he’d think even less of me than he already did.

“So, then what?”, he asked. I bit my lip. “Did you know he’s married? He’s got a beautiful trophy wife, and two teenage daughters, almost out of high school. Cheerleaders, blonde. Ditsy as fuck, but on their way to bright futures, due to daddys money, and mommys good looks”. “But?...”, he probed.

I sighed. “There was a girl at the club, Sarah, just turned 18; poor family, desperately trying to scrape up some money for college. One night, he invited her to join him and his friends in their limo. He said he’d give her a ride home, and maybe a recommendation for college”. Flags eyes turned cold again. I continued. “He kept calling her Stephanie, even when she tried to correct him”. I looked up at him. He was looking more and more aggravated. “She didn’t show up for work the next day, so I went to her place”. I ground my teeth together, before continuing. “Her mom told me she was in the hospital. When Sarah had refused to put out willingly, Kelper had held her down... When he was finished with her, he’d let his friends have the leftovers”.

I looked at my feet. “His youngest daughters name is Stephanie”.

I was jolted, when Flag kicked the box I was sitting on; clenching his fist, and cursing quietly. “Sorry”, he said, looking at me. I was unsure what the apology was for; the kick, or my story.

I stood up. “So, now you know. I beat that shitheads face into a pulp, clawed his skin; and made sure he’d never be able to do that to another person again”. Flag stayed quiet.

I picked up my sack of belongings, and went to face him again. “And just for the record, that last 13.000 dollars… Sarahs mom couldn’t afford the hospital bill, and became behind on the payments. They almost got kicked out of their apartment the week before I raided that safe”.

We stood there for a little while, staring each other down.

“I’m sorry that happened”, Flag said. He sighed. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the situation you’re in. You’re going to have to be a part of this team, if you want to ever get your life back”. He was almost apologetic. “I know”, I admitted. “And for the record; I am a bad guy”, I said. “A really good bad guy”. Flag smirked at me, and moved to the middle of the room. Apparently, our conversation was over.

---

“Alright people! Unfortunately, we won’t have a lot of time to get acquainted with our newest team member”, he called, grabbing the attention of the rest of the squad. “We have a new mission”. “That was fast”, Deadshot said. “Sorry, Floyd. You’re going to have to take a rest from the ball, and reacquaint yourself with your guns”, Flag answered.

“So. Here’s the brief…”.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

What If I Told You (10)

Characters: Jensen x Reader; Jared Padalecki; SPN Cast members at times.

Summary: You and Jensen have been the closest of friends for years after meeting on the set of SPN, but what will happen when you and Jensen have a kissing scene?

Series Masterlist / My Masterlist

Series Warnings: Cursing; divorce; break up; angst-ish at times, but mostly fluff. For this chapter: teeth rotting fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is divorced from an unnamed ex in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

A/n: As @our-jensen-ackles-love​ said, “Final-fucking-ly”. 2700ish words - its a longer one.

Peering at your reflection in the antique mirror situated in the corner of your bedroom, you adjusted the hem of your dress repeatedly, nerves making your fingers twinge with anticipation. Clint had dropped you off with a promise of returning in a little over an hour, allowing you time to change and ready yourself for Rob’s party this evening. It was being held at an upscale tavern in downtown Vancouver to celebrate his birthday and return to Supernatural after a brief hiatus. Truth be told, Rob would use any excuse to throw a party, but you never minded in the slightest. The majority of the crew and cast would be there, including those who were visiting or locals to the area.

Your curls were still intact from your scenes filmed earlier in the day and it only took a small amount of convincing from you to pursue the makeup ladies to touch up what they had done instead of removing it all as they would have on any other day. You rummaged through your walk-in closet, tossing article after article of clothing until you decided on an above-the-knee navy dress; it was covered in lace, had sleeves to the elbow, and a tantalizingly low-cut v-shaped neckline. You knew everyone would be dressed to the nines and had already conversed with some of the other people from set to determine that a dress was appropriate attire. Pairing it with a pair of nude heels and clutch, it actually took you very little time to get ready, which was not only surprising, but slightly torturous. It meant you had too much time to stand and fidget, as you were doing now.

Tonight was the night you’d hopefully find out if your best friend felt the same for you as you did for him—or your friendship would never be the same. Even if the last few days hadn’t been the scenario you’d played them out to be in your mind, you knew you’d never be able to go back to thinking of him as only your friend. Pretending before was quite tranquil, a simple ignoring of feelings and thoughts, but now that those same feelings had come roaring to the surface it would be impossible to return them to their composed state.

Tonight would more than likely determine the rest of your life, in one way or another. The thought both terrified and excited you, making you want to cry and scream at the same time, but thankfully Clint saved you with a message saying he was on his way back to your apartment after changing himself. Draping yourself in your cream colored pea-coat, you retreated out your front door to meet him.

Clint was dressed in an all-black suit and black shirt, accentuating the silver in his beard.

“You clean up nice, Clint, as always.” You posed with a smile as you buckled into the passenger seat.

“So do you, kitten.” The nickname was special, and not something he gave to everyone he lended his services to. At first you found it a bit patronizing but grew to understand it as a term of endearment and now loved it.

Driving through the darkening streets lightened by the glows of downtown, you twiddled with the zipper of your clutch and felt your heart hammering in your chest.

“Y/n…” Clint’s voice boomed above the soft music playing through the speakers, “Calm down honey. You only do that when you’re nervous… and I don’t think you have anything to be nervous about.” He reassured knowingly. A bit too knowingly. Taking in your raised eyebrow, he offered quietly, “What’s said between bodyguards stays between bodyguards.”

His eyes focused back on the road and his shoulders stiffened, though a small smile played at the corners of his lips, making you smile in return.

He weaved through the urban streets towards the tavern, pulling into a parking space with perfect precision. He hopped out and rushed to your side of the vehicle, courteous enough to open your door and lend you a hand in your unsteady heels. Offering his elbow, which you graciously accepted though you towered below him by his sheer size, he walked you along the sidewalk to a large pair of deep-colored wooden doors fit with wrought iron handles. Muscling the large hunk of wood would’ve been a feat for anyone, but Clint pulled it open with a breeze, revealing a large crowd of Supernatural cast and crew members. Screams of welcome were thrown in your direction as you shrugged out of your coat and stowed your purse before you were tackled by a few, but notably Ruth, Kim, and Briana, Sam Smith not far behind. The venue was large, with high ceilings and a second floor that could be seen from the first, a dark railing lining the stairs and large overhang. Shining wood adorned almost every surface, from the bar top to the walls with splashes of silvered steel and black iron chandeliers. Soft lighting made everything sparkle, including the martini glass that was practically thrust into your hands by your friends.

You anxiously searched for Jensen, or Jared, as they would be arriving together. Neither could be found or seen, so you settled into the small group and chatted for a bit until others came to greet you. Richard hugged you and Rob gave you a peck on the cheek.

“Alright,” he said. “Who’s the first to dance with the birthday boy?”

“Ooh, me!” you grinned widely, placing your drink on the nearest corner of the bar. You do just about anything for a slight distraction from glancing toward the door every five seconds, so you hopped into Rob’s arms on the dance floor. Other members of the crew were already twirling around when Rob spun you into the open space, a giggle escaping your lips as the lines of your dress whirled around you. His arm circled your waist, pulling you close as you danced back and forth.

Sighing as you rested your head on his shoulder, you said, “This is nice. It’s been a long time since I had a handsome man twirl me around a dance floor.”

“It is a treasure.” Rob laughed gently, swaying you to the upbeat music.

You sighed once more, feeling your nerves itch even as you rocked back and forth to the beat.

Rob placed his lips closely to the shell of your ear to whisper, “Relax, Y/n. He’ll be here soon.”

You quickly pulled back, a look of surprise and shock met Rob’s eyes. The look was enough to send him into a fit of laughter, his bright smile and throaty chuckle vibrating through his arms that held you, “It’s okay, honey. I know who you’re waiting for.”

“Seriously?” you cried. “Does everyone here know something?”

“We’re not gossipers.” He reassured you, but it did little to quell the rapid beat of your heart. “Let’s just say we’ve noticed something there for a long time. Now, just dance with me.”

He pulled you back to him and lightened the mood with a joke about Rich and his directing abilities, causing you to giggle as he twirled you once more.

Jensen waltzed into the space with Jared on his tail, both dressed in blue suits. Jensen’s was a deeper, royal blue with a crisp white shirt underneath and pocket square; Jared’s a tad lighter and paired with a black button-up and tie. Cliff stood watch behind them with Clint by his side, shoulders squared as they conversed, looking like a pair of brick walls near the door.

Jensen’s eyes darted around the room quickly, searching for you, but Jared quickly distracted him with a bump of his elbow and a glass of whiskey on the rocks. As you were, they were quickly accosted by their friends, pulling them each in for a hug or a fist bump. Words were exchanged above the music and Jensen tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t keep himself from scanning the crowd, desperately seeking out your form among the bodies.

“Don’t worry, she’s here.” He heard a small voice beside him say. He looked down to see Sam next to him, his mother on the show and his friend in reality.

“Hey, pretty lady. How are you?” he smiled, hugging her into his side.

“I’m great… but get on with the real questions.” She laughed. “I know who you’re really looking for.”

Jensen wore a soft yet stunned expression as he stared down at Sam until the smile spread across his face once again, “Where is she?”

“She’s dancing with Rob. You could always cut in.” Sam grinned widely, pointing over her own glass towards the dance floor.

You were shining in the dim light of the space as your skirt and hair spun around you and your face held so much joy as you laughed in Rob’s arms. The dress you were wearing showed every curve of your body, accentuating your hips with the flare of the skirt, and the modest lace showed small amounts of skin. Jensen felt his mouth run dry at the sight.

Sam nudged him in his ribs, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I—I should wait.” Jensen bargained, “She’s having fun.”

This time, Sam’s nudge was a bit more than a nudge, a prod of her hand into his side made him jerk and chuckle, “Ow!” he exclaimed through his laugh.

“I’m not sure what has been keeping you two from each other for so long, but no more waiting.” She eyed him suspiciously, sensing his nerves. “Jay, you have nothing to be nervous about. I promise.” She assured him.

“Pinky swear?” he proposed.

She took his outstretched finger, before ushering him away, “Go on. Go get her.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He handed off his drink before weaving through the crowd, saying hi and chatting briefly with a few others along the way.

Rob had just slowed his pace as the music changed, the beat and melody shifting into a smoother sound. A modern version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” flowed through the speakers, and a gentle, feminine voice filled the air.

Suddenly, a voice that caused chills up your spine sounded from beside Rob, “You tryin’ to steal my girl, Rob?”

You whirled quickly to reveal Jensen, looking stunning and wearing a dazzling smile. His hair was brushed with a part down the side and the blue of his suit made his tanned skin flush.

My girl.

The words made your insides melt as a grin fell upon your lips.

Rob looked up to him and quipped, “Wouldn’t dream of it, man.”

“Mind if I cut in?” Jensen asked with a friendly slap to Rob’s shoulder, to which he gave you a quick peck on your cheek before gesturing to his friend.

“Absolutely. I think this is a good song, anyway.” He said the last part quietly, but both you and Jensen caught it.

Sweeping you into his arms, Jensen couldn’t help but notice how perfectly you fit into the curve of his body. The height of your heels allowed you to rest your arms comfortably on his shoulders as he pulled you close and began to move to the music.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly, glancing up at him through your darkened lashes.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The way he held you sent a shock through your body, making your skin buzz and tingle. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, his palm flat against your rib cage as his thumb rubbed against the fabric of your dress. His other hand held yours close to him as your chest pushed against his, leaving no space between the two of you.

Jensen dipped his head low, the scruff of his cheek tickling yours as he whispered in your ear, “I missed you.”

This is the way you should be held.

Helplessly turning to a puddle, you were thankful for his hold on you, otherwise you may have collapsed. The velvety smooth tone of his voice and those words made your knees weak. This feeling—this overwhelming sense of affection that made your heart just about stop but pound at the same time—this was something you’d never felt before. The feel of his hand in yours made your world come into focus to just one person.

Your grip tightened around his neck as you closed what little distance remained between your upper bodies, pulling him so that you could wrap your arm around his shoulders. “I missed you too.”

You danced in silence for a few more moments, thinking briefly about how much those words meant. You’d missed a feeling you’d never felt before but knew within your core that you couldn’t go one more moment without it.

When the song began to shift into another upbeat tune, Jensen regrettably pulled himself from your hold, but to your surprise, he took your hand to lead you to the staircase.

Your heels clicked against the wood as you hurried behind him, neither of you witnessing the grins and giggles that came from your friends who watched him lead you away. At the top of the stairs, he turned to a door that lead outside, opening it and motioning for you to move through with a smile. Small lights hung from a pergola that covered the entire rooftop patio that housed a few tables and chairs for the patrons, but you were drawn to the view. All of downtown Vancouver lit up the night sky, the hustle and bustle of the cars below you adding to its brightness. Stepping closer to the edge, you marveled at the sight.

A pair of strong arms slid around your midsection, the warmth from seeping beneath the fabric of your dress. Jensen’s chin came to rest on your shoulder as his hands folded in front of you, pulling you to him.

Unable to resist, you ran your hands along his forearms as they caged you, quickly threading your fingers with his. A sense of calm washed over you, but still your heartbeat paced, as if being in his arms was both tranquil and exciting.

“Wow. Its beautiful.”

Feeling the hum of vibration coarse through him, Jensen smiled, “You sure are.”

Giggling, you couldn’t help but call him out, “Cheesy, but I’ll take it.”

He quickly spun you in his arms, “I’m serious, sweetheart. You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

He kept you in his hold with one arm but trailed the other hand up your body, running his palm against your back until it caressed up your shoulder to the base of your neck. Sliding your arms around his waist beneath his suit jacket, you reveled in the feeling.

Jensen ran his thumb against the curve of your jaw, speaking softly, “Y/n, I know we’ve been friends for a long time, and in that time, I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’ve learned what I want out of life, and it took me a while to see that what I’ve wanted has been right here the whole time. I’ve asked myself so many times if I dared to cross this line with you because I never wanted to lose you as a friend.”

Jensen’s freckles danced in the shining light from above and below as your pulse pounded and tears came to your eyes, but his hold never loosened. His hand came to cup your cheek as he continued, “I’ve asked myself so many questions, ‘How would you feel?’ ‘What would you think?’ ‘What would we do?’”

Taking a deep breath, his eyes became downcast, “We’ve both had our share of loneliness in the past, but this has always been there, beneath and beyond our relationships with other people.” When his eyes met yours once more, they were glistening like reflective pools of emerald, his face mere inches from yours. “Y/n, I think we both deserve happiness and if I found that with you, it’d be a dream come true, and I don’t think I can keep this in anymore. What if—what if I told you that—”

“I love you.” You sighed. “Jay, I’ve loved you for so long. I can’t pretend anymore…”

Your words were silenced as his lips crashed to yours.

<Series Masterlist / Part 11 (coming soon)>

A/n 2: I received an anon ask when I was looking for fic ideas(see below) for a Jensen x actress!reader fic a while ago, but recently got hit with a spark of inspiration. This is based off of the song “What if I Said” by Anita Cochran and Steve Wariner and will be a short mini-series. Also there is a wife mentioned in some parts, but I purposefully left this person nameless as to not insinuate anything for Jensen’s real life.                                                                

Anonymous said: Hi! Just saw your post about looking for fic ideas. I’ve had this idea that I really like where reader is an actor on Supernatural and is friends with Jensen. They have a scene where they have to kiss or even just have to be right up in each other’s space and it makes them realize they like each other. It’s probably a common thing to write about, but I thought I’d ask anyway. Thanks!

[scapegrace74-blog]

Lie Alone

A/N  In commenting on the last installment in the Metric universe, I said that Jamie’s date with Claire was complete dating wish fulfillment on my part.  Which got me thinking about their next date and what other personal preferences I could cram into this story.  And yet it’s definitely Claire’s turn to take Jamie for a spin, which meant that... well, you’ll see!

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Blanco White (another guest artist!) that inspired the title and which features in the fic can be heard here: https://youtu.be/SNp7sb5vXTs

Big shout out to @holdhertightandsayhername, who introduced me to this artist in her marvelous fic The Sands of Time.  

June 21, 2018, London, England

Sassench:  Do you have plans later Fraser?

Wee Fox Cub:  depends r u making a better pffer?

Sassench: Meet me out front at Joe’s.  5pm.

Wee Fox Cub: :thumbs up emoji:

Sassench:  And Jamie?  Wear something tight.  Preferably leather.

Wee Fox Cub:  ...

***

He couldn’t imagine what Claire had in mind, but he’d cancelled his plans to watch the England South Africa test match with the lads and was instead haunting the kerb in front of her temporary lodging, wearing fitted black jeans and his leather jacket, despite the sunny mid-summer weather.  When his date hadn’t emerged from the building by 4:05, he pulled out his phone.  An approaching mechanical thrum interrupted him mid-text.

The first thing he noticed were her boots: black, with a thick rubber sole and chunky heel.  These were zipped over leather pants that clung to her coltish legs like a second skin, matching the matte gleam of the motor between them.  A leather jacket, the tailored twin of his own, hugged her narrow waist.  By the time his eyes had scrolled upward, a visored helmet was being removed, and Claire’s familiar hair and teasing brass eyes appeared.

“You’re staring, Jamie,” she remarked.  The fact that the voice was his roommate’s usual no-nonsense tone, seasoned with a touch of humour, was a necessary dash of reality.  

“Aye,” he admitted.  “Tis a verra beautiful... machine ye’re ridin’, Sassenach.  Is it yers?”

Her curls danced in the sunlight as she shook them out.

“God, no.  Joe only let me borrow it after I promised to cover his next two on-call shifts.  But don’t worry!  I practically grew up on a motorcycle.  I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.”

He filed this information away in the cluttered part of brain entitled Things I Never Expected to Learn about Claire Beauchamp. Accepting a second helmet, he swung himself onto the seat behind her.  His legs bracketed her hips in an unfamiliar, but by no means unpleasant, inversion.  Claire revved the motor, sending a shiver up his spine.  His arms wrapped around her waist, and they pulled into the slow flow of traffic.

“Comfy?”  Her voice startled him, low and intimate, coming from directly behind his ear.   He realized belatedly that the helmets were furnished with a communications system.

“Aye,” he asserted, although comfortable wasn’t exactly the word he’d use for his current state.  Somewhere between apprehensive and exhilarated would be more accurate.  “Will we make it tae our destination afore sundown, do ye think?”

She chuckled warmly, reaching back with one hand to tap him on the knee.

“Never you fear, my lad.  I have our urban escape route all planned out.  We’ll be flying in no time.”

She wasn’t wrong.  After a series of abrupt stops and starts, they dipped below the Thames in a well-lit tunnel, the echo of passing lorries muting all other sound.  Soon after that they were picking up speed on a wide motorway, the bike crouching against the wind.  He watched the throbbing mass of the city peel away, slowly giving way to greenery and the pastel light he associated with freedom.  He thought they were heading south along the Orbital into Surrey, but beyond that he had no notion of their whereabouts.  

Giving himself up into her care, he settled against Claire’s back, the crescent of her arse fitting neatly into the bowl of his thighs.  He was aware of being aroused, but it was a hazy rather than a sharp feeling, blunted by contentment.  If Claire was offended by the firmness pressing into her rump, she gave no sign.

After several hours of almost meditative motion, they turned onto a country lane, overhung by a leafy canopy.  Tidy Tudor buildings overlooked the road, their leaden windows glowing orange in the setting sun.   Their motorcycle joined a parade of vehicles ascending a low hill in a series of sharp turns.  Each time the bike navigated one of these, he was forced to tighten his grip on Claire’s torso, which by now felt like an extension of his own body.  He glowed like one of those panes of glass, molten and reflecting back the warmth that radiated from the core of who she was.  

The forest thinned into green hillside as they reached a parking lot.  He couldn’t help but feel disappointment as he observed the crowds.  Wherever they were, it was obviously a popular destination.  On the bike, he’d felt peculiarly isolated, alone with Claire, their conversation eased by the intermediary of the microphones.  Now he’d have to share her with the world.

He groaned as he unfolded his long legs to stand upright, and Claire grinned.

“They don’t make motorcycles in your size, I’m afraid.”

“An’ wha’ size is that, Sassenach?” he hummed suggestively while stretching his arms high above his head, untucking his shirt in the process.

Claire’s eyes dipped to where his belly was briefly exposed, then lower.

“Large,” was her bold answer, and he shot her a wickedly pleased glance.

After a beat she visibly gathered herself, reaching into the storage compartment behind where he had been sitting and pulling out a small bag and his plaid, which had somehow stayed in her possession after the fire.

“Are you up for a short hike?”

“For ye, Sassenach, anything.”

They meandered through an oak wood, then up a series of crude steps, until finally arriving on a grassy slope, the land falling away steeply to the south.  Low ridges and shallow valleys furled below them like gentle waves, reaching out to the horizon where the sun was preparing to set.  The air was fragrant, the ground releasing the heat of the day.

“One of my many boarding schools wasn’t far from here,” Claire explained as she spread the blanket near their feet.  “I must have been fourteen or so, and having a terrible time fitting in.  Uncle Lamb came to visit, probably at the headmaster’s behest, and this is where he took me.  I don’t remember what he said, but by the time we left, I felt better.  More at peace.  In lockstep with the larger order of things.   I’ve come back, now and then.  Any time I needed to find that feeling again.”

As she spoke, Claire emptied the small bag of its contents.  He recognized the logo from a deli they both frequented on two wrapped sandwiches, along with a pint of strawberries, some crisps, a lemonade and a bottle of his favourite summer ale.  She’d thought of everything, and it snagged at his heart.

“Tis bonnie.  I’m honoured ye wanted tae share it with me, Sassenach.”

They ate slowly, savouring the simple meal as the sky above their heads smudged from orange to pink to ever-deepening shades of purple.  One by one, the stars twinkled to life, like so many travelers lighting their fires for the night.  Away from the city, they numbered in the thousands, each a signpost on someone’s journey.  His mind spread out to fill the space between them, taking his thoughts to Lallybroch, moments from his youth long forgotten, the steadying hand of his parent’s guidance.  Claire was right.  Something about the place invited serenity.  He sighed with pleasure, tension he hadn’t even acknowledged draining slowly down his spine.

Claire’s hand crept across the blanket, and their pinkie fingers met, then overlapped.  As the air around them cooled, the breeze picked up, and he felt her shiver.

“Ye’re cold.  We should be on our way, aye?”

“Wait.  There’s one more thing I want you to see.”

He could think of several more things he wanted to see, but they were well hidden by leather and her guarded nature.  He’d known when he proposed this season of courtship that the road to Claire’s heart would be long and arduous, with many twists and lay-bys.  There could be no rushing the voyage.  He was confident the destination, should he be granted entry, would be worth any hardship.  And thankfully the views along the way were spectacular in their own right.

He’d been watching her profile out of the corner of his eye when the horizon burst into multi-coloured song.  Purple starbursts and red streamers exploded across a black canvas, followed by a pulsing yellow orb.  In the milliseconds before his consciousness caught up with the evidence, he was captivated.  Then he physically recoiled, expecting pain in the form of a cascade of memories.  Instead, the symphony of light continued without a sound.  He looked at Claire in awe.

“The wind is to the north, so it’s blowing the sound in the other direction.  I checked before I picked you up,” she explained.

The fireworks continued for another ten or fifteen minutes.  He’d never be quite sure, because he was lost in sensation.  The beautiful display was completely over-shadowed by the beauty of the woman beside him, her tiny finger still laced with his own.  

“Ye ken tis I who’s supposed tae be courtin’ ye, don’t ye, Sassenach?” he commented when a final fury of light gave way once again to stars.

“Says who?” she sniffed, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards.  

After performing a mental inventory of any and all physical impediments, he leaned slowly into her side, his intention unmistakable.  His heart thrilled when Claire met him halfway, her mouth damp and tart from the lemonade.  It was a kiss that walked the boundary between chaste and sensual, and he wished it could last forever.

“Thank ye, Claire.  Truly.”

At a loss for words for once, she dipped her head in acknowledgement.  They silently gathered their things and walked hand-in-hand to the bike.

The ride back to London was swift, with music taking the place of conversation.  A particularly beautiful song, poetic and wistful, left him feeling that Claire was speaking to him through its words; words she could not yet find the courage to say.  Accompanied by only a single guitar, a male voice rose in wistful intensity.

So I lie alone, and risk each night, I long to let you in But there's a life I lost, drifted out, before You let me in.

His fingers found their way beneath her jacket and rested on the warm skin of her belly.  He felt her soft skin give a shudder, like a ripple of wind across the still surface of a pond.

The motorway ribboned out beneath them.  The journey had only just begun.

*

*

*

*

Because this is a multi-disciplinary blog, here’s a shot of the view that Jamie and Claire enjoyed in this fic, which is Box Hill in Surrey (taken from Google Earth, as I’ve never been).

And here’s Claire’s bike!

[likehoneyandsilk]

Notes From Her - The Beginning

The little notes started when they were eight years old.

His parents had asked if she’d like to watch one of Mat’s hockey games one Sunday morning. She had obliged easily, and to this day, Mat remembers the tiny girl sitting next to him in the car squished against his side, dressed in one of his pee wee team shirts that was all to big for her.

Her chubby cheeks were as rosy as the red shirt, and it fell to her knees. Her mom had bundled her up in her winter coat and a toque, and she cheerfully chatted with his little sister, hugging the cup of Tim Horton’s hot chocolate in her hands.

When they arrived at the rink, Mat and his father parted ways with the girls, his mother guiding them to their seats. While Mat laced up his skates, he noticed a small neatly folded piece of blue construction paper tucked in his hockey bag. Confused, he reached for it.

He opened it to reveal her bubbly and small writing in sparkly pink pen. The note read:

“I hope you win! Good luck! I’m gonna cheer really loud for you!”

With her name scribbled at the end and a tiny little smiley face. And throughout the game when Mat looked into the stands, she kept her word. Later that day when he got home, he read over her note multiple times, securing it into an empty skates box under his bed. In his messy writing with a big black sharpie he labeled the box: “Notes from Her”

And from there the notes continued to grow, and the box continued to fill, and it traveled wherever he did, even after all these years.

By the age of 16 they were officially a couple. It was inevitable. Their parents had seen it coming. Their friends had seen it coming. She had more pictures of her and Mat tacked across her bedroom wall from their childhood to now than she did any other. And he kept every note underneath that battered carboard box of his.

On the morning of their first date, he had caught her by her locker. She seemed to be writing out something, her eyebrows furrowed in slight concentration, and the tiniest bite of her bottom lip. She looked pretty as always, effortlessly. It was different now that they were becoming more than just friends, yet still the same.

“Hey” his voice alerted her to divert her eyes to his. She would be lying if she didn’t feel butterflies erupt in her stomach. Mat was always tall, dark and handsome. And soon he was going to be her boyfriend, not just her best friend.

She smiled, greeting him with a “hello”. He couldn’t help but notice the BCHL shirt he’d gifted her after his first game, she’d paired with her blue jeans and white converse. Her cheeks as rosy as the first day she’d come to one of his games.

“Are you excited for tonight?” He asked her nonchalantly, leaning next to her locker. He seemed so at ease, but on the inside he was as nervous and giddy as she was. Her cheeks reddened and she let out a giggle. Excited yes, but also nervous. In response she nodded, shutting her locker tight. “Of course, I’ll be ready for 5:00?”

“Perfect. We’ll head to my game and after go for our dinner.” And then what happened next was a moment of pure bliss. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to her burning cheek. And with such ease he pushed himself off the locker to make his way to class, turning back to send her a wink.

Phased and bashful, she turned on her heel, the sensation of his lips still burning on her cheek. Until he called out to her, “Hold on a second!”

She turned abruptly meeting Mat’s happy smile and playful eyes. They’d always been the brightest and captivating. “I like the shirt! Make sure you wear it tonight.”

After first period they met again in History. They always sat together, and by habit she made her way to the corner seat by the window next to her old friend. Mat smiled at her as class began, while they shuffled to take out their pens and binders. In the midst of it all, he caught her drop a piece of paper on his desk.

Sneaking a glance at the teacher and her next to him, he abruptly opened the neatly folded piece of last weeks math homework.

“Today is our first date. I hope you win tonight! Take me out for milkshakes and fries either way”

When he looked back at her, he couldn’t help but smile and place the note into the pocket of his jeans. His eyes lingered a little longer, as a small smile appears on her lips, and the sunlight began to seep in through the window, painting her golden. She knew he’d read the note.

And that night when he picked her up in his father’s old Chevy pickup, he watched as she rushed down the front steps of her porch, adorned in the shirt from the day tucked into a knee length black flowy skirt and ankle boots. The passenger door already open for her, as it always was, but this time as she settled in the feeling was different. It was better.

“A win. Milkshakes and fries it is” he placed his pinky out for her and she giggled, wrapping her smaller one around his. And with that, began the most perfect first date, ending with the sweetest first kiss on her porch steps, tasting like milkshakes and strawberry chapstick.

A few months later Mat was back and forth between Seattle and Vancouver. They didn’t see each other as often, but they’d managed. It was an end to another weekend home for Mat before his father drove him back for three weeks of games and practices.

After another night of milkshakes and fries she’d drove him back to his house, and they sat silently in the car, the radio playing a faint song in the back, dreading their least favourite part of every weekend Mat was home. He sighed, engulfing her hand into his as she turned to look at him.

“I hate this part” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. “I know, I do to”

With a sigh they stepped out of the car. He met her at the hood of her car. She examined his face for a minute. He’d grown his hair out a little longer, the slightest of scruff on his face. Training was powerful, and he’d gained more muscle over the last few months. He was a Seattle phenomenon now. She smiled, placing her cold hands into the pocket of his Seattle Thunderbirds jersey he wore.

Mat watched as the familiar look of sadness washed over her face. Her big brown eyes seem to dull a little, glossy. The streetlights dancing off her face outlined her sad smile. She leaned furthur towards him, an urge to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear letting his digits linger into her silky strands of hair.

The Autumn air was crisp and brisk. As her hands began to warm she parted her lips to speak. “Why is it so hard everytime?” She searched his eyes for an answer. Mat leaned down as he heard the front door open, and through his perhiperal vision caught a glimpse of his sister helping his father carry down his packed suitcase.

He leaned furthur, watching her eyes begin to close, lashes like a thick blanket and pressed his lips to hers. They kissed for a few seconds, and when she pulled back, withdrew her hands from his pockets and embraced him in a hug.

“I’m going to miss you” her voice muffled against his hoodie yet he understood. “I’m going to miss you too”

As the embrace fell apart and she moved out of his way, Mat felt the urge to say more. He knew what he felt, but fear clouded over his bravery and courage. He loved her. But with a soft smile he turned and she watched. She loved him. But she didn’t have the guts to say it to his face.

As his father drove out of the neighbourhood, Mat reached into his pockets, watching as the houses he’d grown around passed by. Suddenly he felt something in his right pocket.

He pulled out a napkin from the diner they’d gone to an hour ago. Instead of grease and reminants of ketchup and milkshake, this one was clean and fresh.

“I can’t bring myself to tell you this, but I think about it everyday. I can’t wait any longer. I love you Barzy. I really truly have fallen in love with you”

She loved him. She loved him!

“Dad! We have to turn around! Please dad ...” catching his father off guard, who began to question his son. “What’s wrong? Mathew what ...”

“Please Dad. Please just turn this car around, just for a second” without furthur questioning his father turned back around, making way home.

Upon arrival, she was just about to get into her car. When the headlights of an approaching car caught her off guard. Mat rushed out of the car. His face bright and content. Almost breathless. And then at the sight of her, taking in that he hadn’t missed her yet, he seemed nervous.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” They barely heard his father make his way into the house. “Mat, what is it?” She wondered if he’d opened her note already. She hadn’t meant for him to rush home, or cause an inconvenience to his father, but in that moment in the diner while he chatted with an old friend by the jukebox, she knew that scribbling down her words and emotions onto the only source of paper was the best she could do.

“I love you too” was all he said, and with that he pulled her in for another kiss, and to this day she swore it felt like the movies. His hands wrapped around her cheeks, pulling her in and supporting her, because he’d never kissed her like this before. The intensity of the dizziness, butterflies and watery legs never felt this high.

High school was over, senior prom a memory for a lifetime, no more trips to Seattle for them both, college admissions had been approved and perhaps the most exciting of all. Mat had been invited and chosen for the NHL Draft. The excitement and nervousness was perplexing.

The night before the Barzal family left for the Draft she’d came to pay him a visit. Invited to the Draft as she was without question, unfortunate and remorse fully she had to deny. She had her own flight to catch in the morning. New York to be precise, for an early bird orientation at university.

His hair was back to shorter, neatly sitting atop his head. His Draft Day suit was laid out on his bed, his suitcase packed. As she greeted his parents, they whispered words of how he’d packed the picture frame you had gifted him a few days prior, along with other gifts. The frame was your favourite though, a picture of you two, smiling and in love at senior prom. Mat guided her out on the porch to sit, cuddled in a blanket, side by side, underneath the Summer star filled sky.

She smelt like lavender and vanilla. Her white converse covered her feet, legs bare and body covered with a pretty red floral summer dress. The moonlight cast a glow onto her features, which had become more prominent over the years, lashes long and bold, lips plump and soft, yet she was still beautiful as ever. Mat rested his head over hers as she leaned onto his shoulder.

Exciting as this was, it was also scary. Mat could be drafted anywhere. Anywhere at all. There was not a single question in that. And it’s how terrifying this was. In the end, as scared as she was, she was beyond happy and proud of how far he had come.

Her Barzy was living out his dream and he deserved every minute of it.

“What if the Canucks pick you?” Her voice caught him out of his own thoughts of leaving and not knowing where he was going. He chuckled, “That’d be pretty cool”.

“If that’s the case, could you tell Alex Burrows I am his biggest fan?” At this little give at a lighthearted moment they burst into laughter. Their bodies shook in unison, laughter filling the night. “I will babe, you know I will” he sighed, resting his palm softly against her cheek, getting her to look at him.

It was then that her eyes got glossy, and she smiled, a heartfelt and genuine smile. “I am so proud of Mat, so unbelievably proud” she whispered into the night, holding back a faint cry as he leaned into her. “I’m scared.” He confessed, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb against her cheek.

She sniffled, scooting closer. “Whoever picks you, wherever it may be, they will not regret it. You deserve this, and wherever you go we’re gonna make this work.”

She seldom saw Mat cry. Her fingers were gentle as she wiped at a tear of his, chuckling softly. “You’re going to be amazing, I’ll be watching, and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for you Barzy. I love you, I love you so much”. He relaxed into her and at the sound of her voice.

Resting his forehead against hers, they remained silent, in sync with their breathing, and listening to the sounds of the night, crickets chirping and the leaves whishing ever so gently. He spoke in a whisper, telling her he loved her endlessly too.

“I’m proud of you too you know.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. She chuckled, thanking him in a whisper. “I have to help Liana pick out a dress”, she informed him softly. Her entirety wished to stay this way forever, but she had something she needed to do, another task to go along with Liana’s task. “I’ll only be a few minutes, and then I’ll be back” she pecked his lips, as she hoisted herself up, making her way into the house. As she moved their hands slowly separated, and Mat felt an empty void in a part of his stomach.

. . .

“I think this could be it” Mat felt like this was the one. If it was, what a miracle and act of destiny would that be. His mother smiled, squeezing his hand. He watched anxiously the stage before him as officials began to approach the podium. A few seconds and soon they’d begin announcing the next pick.

Without even thinking Mat reached into his coat pocket, and was surprised to find yet another note.

“The day you’ve been dreaming of is finally here. I love you, I am so proud of you, and I cannot wait to see you on that stage! Don’t forget I want the first Barzal jersey! Good luck Barzy!” signed with her name and an extravaganza of hearts. He smiled at the note, imagining her sitting in her future dorm on an uncomfortable mattress, and watching the Draft play out on a tiny dorm television.

“The New York Islanders are proud to select from the Seattle Thunderbirds, Mathew Barzal”

Everything seemed to fall into place. Everything seemed to end up how it was supposed. It was almost too good to be true.

And as Mat accepted his congratulations and new found belongings, his girl sat in her future dorm, on an uncomfortable mattress, never peeling her eyes away from the tiny little television. And when they called his name, she could not believe it, but when it settled in she was as happy as she could be, already waiting for when he’d call so she could tell him how happy she was, and excited for the life that was to come.

. . .

Notes From Her - The Middle

Notes From Her - The Future

[silvcrlining]

finley, self-para: back to the beginning

Finley had only lived in the Valley for a little over a year. DC shouldn’t feel that different to them when they come back, but it does. Something about that angers them, but they can’t quite place it, so they sigh, lean back against the park bench, and pull their hat-- a beanie with a T-Rex stitched onto the front-- further down their head.

“They’re not selling ice cream because apparently ‘it’s winter and no one wants ice cream during winter,’ so I got us some hot chocolate.”

They glance up as Levi, their stepfather, comes bumbling down the street from the hot chocolate stand in front of the Smithsonian, wearing a similar beanie with a triceratops on the front along with a goofy smile. He takes a seat beside them, handing them one of the styrofoam cups.

“We’d get hypothermia if we got ice cream.” Finley mumbles, staring down at the line of steam that rises from the cup. It had been three days since they had hitched a ride on Sloane’s van so fae could drop them off at their parents’ house. Three days of catching up with their family, plastering on a fake smile, pretending everything was fine. Three days until Levi all but forced a stepfather/child bonding day. Early on when him and Finley’s mother were still just dating, he had tried to bond with the Martin siblings by taking them out to a museum every other weekend and getting ice cream after.  Finley had left soon enough for college, though-- guess he wanted to make up for lost time. And dinosaurs were cool.

“But we’d have ice cream. I think that’s a fair exchange.”

Finley lets out an exhale of a chuckle that dies as quickly as it came. They sit in silence for a few minutes, taking sips of their drinks, letting their bodies warm up against the chilly weather.

“So... do you want to talk about it?”

They hold back on reacting, “About what?”

Levi glances at them out of the corner of his eye, takes a long sip, “Jillian... that’s her name, right?”

“... Mom told you?”

“Reese might have overheard your conversation... She might have mentioned a thing or two.”

Damn it. “Hm.”

Levi is a therapist, which means he’s patient, which means he never pushes too much. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.” Finley appreciates it, but it also irritates them. He knows what he’s doing. Reverse psychology little--

They settle into silence once more. It’s comfortable enough; though Finley and Levi never got to spend too much time together before they left for college and then for Stardew Valley, Levi was a people person, in a similar way that Finley was. He was friendly, caring, genuine-- it was hard not to like him. But among that comfortable silence, there’s an underlying tension. Finley hasn’t slept that much lately, and they haven’t stopped thinking about Jillian, and they haven’t talked to anyone about it. And they want to. They’re tired of being in their own head. They finish their hot chocolate and sigh.

“... You know Mom and Dad were high school sweethearts?” They mumble, looking down at their lap and picking at a loose thread on their jacket. David, their biological father, who they haven’t seen in quite a while.

“Mhm, they were.“

“For the longest time, I thought they were-- not made for each other, but, like... something like that, you know?” Their brows furrow, “But they weren’t, and that’s... fine.” He’s a piece of shit, anyway. “And then they got divorced, and...” They pull at the thread, snapping it from the fabric, “... Mom just fucking... lost herself.”

Levi nods patiently, and if he’s heard this story from his wife already, he pretends not to know, “How so?”

“She... I mean, you know her. She has a strong personality.” Levi smiles at that despite himself. Softie. “But for so long, that was just... gone. And then she tried to get back into dating, which I thought would help, but... honestly, it kind of made things worse.” They couldn’t have known it back then, and maybe they still weren’t fully aware of it now, but it had planted a seed of fear within them that had only kept growing, “It was like she became someone new for every single person she saw... I love her, but it was so hard to be around her back then. I-- Reese and I barely recognized her anymore. I don’t think she recognized herself. It was... it was so fucking scary.”

“Why?”

Their brows furrow deeper, the corners of their lips curling downwards. They’re trying to hold back tears, “I thought I’d lost her.” Finley and her mom never had the closest relationship. Her mother was headstrong, stubborn, bad at showing emotions, and Finley quickly took after her. They butted heads often, but... despite it all, Finley looked up to her. And when she fell that hard, Finley was at a loss of what to do.

Finley has Maisie had temporarily broken up by then. The fear had begun seeping into their relationship-- what if I’m just pretending to be someone for her?

“You and Maisie were high school sweethearts too, right?”

Their shoulders tense, and they rub at their ring finger and huff out a humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

“Were you afraid?” He asks carefully, his gaze settled on them, worry etched into his features, “That you’d lose yourself?”

Finley nods. How couldn’t they? They were a carbon copy of their mother and father’s relationship. The more similarities Finley saw, the more red flags they conjured up in their mind.

“Are you afraid that’ll happen with Jillian?”

They pause, find another loose strand to tug at. “... I don’t know.”

“Well... how did you feel with her?”

Flashes of Finley and Jillian at their house. Their eyes closed as music filtered through the living room, stupid banter exchanged like they always did-- though it felt gentler this time around--, dumb pinky swears, a sudden urge. “Is this fine with you?” muttered in between them in a moment that shifted everything; an answer with a kiss. They melted into it.

“Safe.”

“Is safe good?”

It was October, and in the midst of chaos, they looked to each other for comfort. They let each other into spaces few traversed. They knew each other. They believed in one another. They trusted each other. In the midst of chaos, there was a momentary shelter from the storm in her. In them, together.

“Safe is dangerous.”

Levi’s brows furrow, “Why?”

“Because...” There’s a lump in their throat. Their chest feels tight.

“You’re a frightening woman, Jill.” They mumbled to her on the floor of the vacant general store, a wine drunk smile on their lips.

The two of them, dancing like idiots in the Saloon, recreating a moment that didn’t happen a year ago-- because it was meant to happen now. Finley didn’t think about the people around them staring.

The feeling of Finley’s heart the moment Jillian exited the mines-- when the firecracker they thought could have been snuffed out came out, still shining. Weak, but shining. Relief flooded their body and they drowned in it.

That night in the forest, Finley lending her their jacket after seeing she was cold. Seeing her tiny smile. It smelled like her when she gave it back. They didn’t know why they didn’t mind it. They should have known.

They huff, rest their elbows on their knees and blink back tears, “Because it makes me feel so... vulnerable.” The moment they began to feel comfortable with someone, as much as they did with her, they couldn’t help but the thoughts that eventually came rushing in: it’s not going to work out-- you’re not good at this, anyway-- you’re going to lose yourself-- you’re going to repeat your mother’s mistakes-- just keep your distance-- maybe you’ve already found yourself, and you’re just an asshole.

“And vulnerable is... bad?”

“Yes.” They answer like it’s supposed to be obvious. “That’s when all the bad shit happens-- when you... let your guard down.” The words feel wrong in their mouth now, the guilt buries itself deeper within them. They made her go through that. They made her... the image of Jillian’s face, red from the cold and the anger, her cheeks wet from crying. Finley can’t help it anymore-- they break. They tip their head down until their forehead knocks against their knees. It’s quiet, and then a sob breaks through, “Fuck.” It’s one, and then another, and then another, until they can’t keep the tears from streaming down their cheeks. Levi is silent, his brows furrowed. He rests a hand on their back, rubbing small circles there, and lets them cry.

“I’m so scared.” They mumble through their tears. “I‘m so scared that... I damaged everything beyond repair again, and--” A small sob, “And I... I hurt her so fucking bad. I just keep seeing her face, and...” They uncurl themself. Their hands go up to their face, rubbing at their eyes even though the tears keep coming. “... I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m so scared of going back and seeing her, and seeing everyone and knowing they all know what a piece of shit I am now, and... fuck.”

When they lost Maisie, they lost most of their friends here too. And maybe it was selfish of them to be thinking about this too, but they didn’t want to lose their new friends. Though they feel like they probably already have, and the thought sends another pang into their chest. After a moment, they rest their head on Levi’s shoulder, “I don’t know what to do...”

He wraps an arm around them and rests his head on top of theirs, “Well... you go back.”

They sniffle, “And do what?“

“You try.”

Cue the humorless laugh, “That’s what I was doing, and it all went to shit.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” He pats their shoulder and turns to look at them. Carefully, he uses his sleeve to wipe away the rest of their tears, “It seemed to me like you were running. Maybe one of us is looking at it the wrong way, hm?”

He retract his hand, and Finley just stares at him, eyes tired, jaw tensing and slackening until: “Can you go back to nice therapist step-dad mode?”

He grins. “That is my nice therapist step-dad mode. If you have a problem with it, you’ll have to talk to my wife about that.” With a small pat to their shoulder, he stands up, beckoning them to follow, “Now come on-- let’s head back home before we get hypothermia.”

-----

It’s the fourth night, and Finley lies in their childhood bed, staring up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling. Through their earbuds, the playlist Ben sent them unexpectedly-- this small bit of hope that maybe not everyone hated them-- plays... Yes, they have a box of tissues next to them.

“And what happens if I try and I fail anyway?”

The song finishes, and while they wait for the next one to begin, they start scrolling through their contacts. First, they stop at Dr. Ali’s number. They tap on the message button, write out several versions of the same text, then delete it and go back to their contacts. They go to Ben’s contact and write out a text to him.

[ to: Ben ] thank you.

[ to: Ben | unsent ] i’ll try to come back soon

“Have you taken the time to entertain the thought that maybe you won’t?”

They sigh, go back to their contacts. This time, they stop at Jillian’s. Their finger hovers over the call button for an entire song. And then another. And then another. Their heart thumps against their chest like an alarm. They can’t do it. They lock their phone screen and sigh, turning to the side and curling into themself as the rest of the playlist drawls on. They don’t sleep much. They keep staring at their backpack strewn in the corner, wrap the blanket Malia had given them closer around their body. They listen to the noise of city life outside. They wish it was quieter.

“But what if I do?”

“Then you try again. However many times it takes.”

[illdesigns]

3 H ☁ for mags/pickle? 8)

fic prompts - (jail cell, blackout, lipstick)

It hadn’t been Pickles’ first time in a cell. Or the first time he woke up in one completely unaware of how he had gotten there in the first place. It had just been the first time in a while. The fact that he hadn’t experienced that level of disorientation in a while threw him off. And the realization that he didn’t exactly have a ton of Snakes ‘n’ Barrels money or fame for possible bail set him on edge. He hoped that it was for something minor, just a regular public intoxication, not resisting arrest or armed robbery or some horseshit that might actually take him to court or prison. Again, the money that could help clear this up in a good out of court settlement was far, far from his fingertips at this point.

The sound of a different cell door opening had woken him up. Pickles rubbed his eyes and inhaled sharply. The conversation and lights and smells all flew around like little cartoon birds around his head before settling in his skull to nest painfully. The feeling of nausea and sluggishness associated with a hangover-inducing migraine made him lurch forward for a second, rub his face and smack dry lips.

He sat there for a moment, face in his hands, trying to focus. Phones rang. The distant sound of crying bounced off tile. Muted conversations he heard two words of at best. And right next to him, at his side, a snore. A thin, high one that ended in a click. A snore that was oddly comforting in its immediate familiarity - considering how Pickles would usually wake up to it at three in the morning. Usually accompanied by a nightmare of being eaten alive by a snake, or strangled by vines, only to find long limbs wrapped around him and hair that was not his in his face and mouth. And the source of the snore’s face pressed against him, breathing hotly on his skin and whining at any attempt Pickles made at prying himself free.

Pickles looked down next to him and saw the source in the flesh. Right now, it was a lump of curls with long legs stretched out the length of the bench, boot-clad feet dangling off the edge. He groaned and sat up against the concrete wall before reaching a hand out to shake the lump’s shoulder.

“Magnus,” Pickles muttered. “Magnus. Magnus? Magnus!”

“Five more minutes,” was the muffled response, Magnus’ face buried in the jacket bunched under his head in a makeshift pillow. A hand reached out from under his body to swat Pickles’ away in annoyance.

“Five fuckin’ nothin’, dude, wake your ass up,” he hissed in annoyance. “We’re in jail, dipshit.”

“What?” Magnus jolted awake, legs kicking out, head lifting up to look around at their surroundings. At the realization they were, in fact, in jail, he groaned. “Ohhh, fuck…”

“Yeah, oh fuck!” Pickles replied incredulously. “You know what happened?”

“No? You...don’t?” Magnus heaved himself up with a grunt, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. “Shit.”

Pickles inspected him for clues. He couldn’t see himself, but if he saw his apparent partner in crime, there might be a hint as to how they got here. A vivid bruise was forming on Magnus’ cheek but beyond that, he looked normal. His hair was wild and puffed out like an annoyed cat, his shirt was annoyingly unbuttoned three buttons too far and-

“The fuck’s this?” Pickles asked suddenly, jabbing an accusing finger at his chest.

Black lipstick. Everywhere. On his face, on his neck, leading down into his shirt. Magnus looked down at himself, rubbed one of the marks and looked at his fingers. Pickles rubbed his own lips and saw the back of his hand come back clean. That wasn’t his.

“Lipstick?” said Magnus with a cautious tone. Pickles crossed his arms and sucked his teeth, making Magnus roll his eyes. “We’re not arguing about this of all fuckin’ things right now! And you, you’re covered in the shit too!”

He dragged another finger across Pickles’ face and showed it to him. Red. Okay, fine. What’s good for the goose was good for the...other...goose. But that doesn’t negate the fact that there was an implication of two missing people in this equation. One of whom was wearing black lipstick and was going to get a thorough fucking talking to if Pickles got his hands on them. Pickles looked around at the slumped over drunks and surly faces that were their new roommates. None of them struck Pickles as his type and while Magnus had lower standards, their faces were bare too.

“Mag. Don’t fuck with me. If you remember anything, tell me, dude!” Pickles begged. He didn’t even care about the lipstick at this point. He just wanted some kind of answer. “Even if it involves you new lil’ girlfriend or whatever-”

“Man, if you don’t shut the fuck up about this I’m kicking a drum in when we get home,” snapped Magnus in turn. “Like, what if we had a foursome, lucky us! So drop it. We need to...call...someone…”

Pickles decided he was going to pout. That was an easier solution than trying to figure out how they got into this mess, or how they would get out. A hand found his knee, which he jerked away pettily, pulling a heavy sigh from Magnus. They sat like that in silence for a moment. For a long moment, it seemed, as Pickles found himself blinking and opening his eyes to someone being escorted out of the cell. It was cold. He still had a headache. He was sore. And now he was cold on top of everything.

The cold was okay. But the chills that his hangover gave him on top of everything was almost embarrassing, feelings as if everyone could hear his teeth chatter over the commotion going around them. But he sat and suffered and wondered where his jacket went. It was October, so he had to have worn it out. That was his good jacket with the fun patches. He was going to be so mad if he couldn’t fucking find it again. It was probably already lost forever.

The shivering was offset by the feeling of denim being tucked around his shoulders. Pickled was jerked out of his thinking and he slipped his arms inside the sleeves. They fell over his hands like a kid playing dress up, but it was warm. And smelled like cigarettes and sandalwood and sweat and...Magnus.

“Thanks,” Pickles said softly, cowed by the simple gesture into dropping his anger. Magnus grunted in response. “Thank youuuu.”

“Welcome,” was the reply. Magnus looked over at Pickles and cocked a brow. “You still pissed off at me for something you did too?”

Pickles blinked.

“No,” he grumbled. “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Magnus chuckled as he spoke, nudging Pickles’ foot with his own. Pickles nudged in turn. Jail footsies wasn’t what he pictured when he said yes to the offer of dropping acid and watching Star Wars as a date a few months ago, but it somehow felt fitting. “Very grown of you, Pickles.”

Before Pickles could say something back, the cell door rolled up.

“Hammersmith? And…” the officer sighed. “Drummer? Bail’s posted.”

“Oh, thank fuck! Me! Us!” Pickles yelped, jumping up and waving awkwardly like it was a roll call.

“You call someone?” asked Magnus as they walked out. Pickles shook his head, slipping his arm in Magnus’ to draw him close. “I didn’t. Who the hell-”

“Me,” a voice rumbled next to them, making them both jump. “You uh...you called me. For some reason.”

The source and their savior was a very displeased, very sleepy Nathan Explosion. Who was standing trying to look stern despite his grogginess in a stained hoodie and pajama pants. Pickles started in surprise, looking up at Magnus for an answer, who shrugged.

“So, you thought drowing in a goddamn fountain was gonna go well, Pickles? Or spitting at a fuckin’ cop, Magnus?” scolded Nathan. “And don’t you two have any other friends? Shit, we’ve hung out three times, y’all.”

So that’s what happened. Why the kid they knew through their dealer was the first number in either of their brains was yet another question they didn’t have the answers for. Or why he posted their bail. Or why they both felt properly reprimanded by someone who was probably in middle school when they were graduating. But things just happen.

“We do, but! Thanks man!” Pickles said happily, reaching out to pat Nathan on the shoulder. “You’re a good one. Our new best friend.”

Nathan rolled his eyes, trying to tug the smile on his face back into a frown. Pickles chuckled to himself as he reached inside of Magnus’ jacket to steal his cigarettes, if he still had them, pulling out a piece of paper instead.

Had a real fun time. Call us. Staci and Luna. XOXOXO.

“Hey!” the call jolted Pickles from his thoughts before he could even process what he was looking at.

The three turned their heads to the source of the sound. Faces pressed against the bars of the next to where Magnus and Pickles had been, two women peered out at them with wide grins. And smeared red and black lipstick on their mouths. One shook her extended thumb and pinky against her head and mouthed “Call me!” while the other blew a kiss. Nathan whistled a sharp note, nodding his approval when Magnus and Pickles looked back at him.

“Good job,” he said before patting Magnus’ arm. “Let’s get you guys home.”

The cold night air was more than welcome when they stepped out into it. The smell of falling leaves, crisp autumn and freedom. Nathan jerked his head at the beat up pickup parked in front of the station and popped the seat back for one of them. Pickles climbed in the back, immediately regretting the decision when both seats were crammed against him to make room for two sets of long legs. But it didn’t matter. If he remembered right, their apartment wasn’t too far away, and it was made alright when a hand reached into the back and found his knee. He smiled and set his own hand on top of it. Nathan gazed into the backseat for a second, eyes scanning Pickles’ face before looking down at the obvious affection, and cocked his head before starting the truck.

“Ohhh!” he said after a few minutes of silence, making both Magnus and Pickles turn tired gazes at him. “Your apartment only has one room!”

They really shouldn’t have laughed. He did drive out in the middle of the night and bust them out. But it couldn’t be helped.

[growntolovesecrecyfic]

Grown to Love Secrecy - Chapter One (Petekey)

Can be read here.

Summary:  Mikey Way hates Oscar Wilde but Pete Wentz convinces him to read The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Chapter One: All Art is Quite Useless

--

“Let’s fall in love for the summer.”

Mikey chokes on his spit and goes into a fit of coughs managing to squeak out a measly “What?” in between coughs.

Pete hands Mikey a can of Coke before responding, “Stop loving me in September.” Pete looks around before he pats and rubs Mikey’s back to ease the coughing a bit.

Mikey nods, taking a sip from Pete’s soda. His coughing calmed, he sucks in a deep breathe before saying, “I know what you said.” He stops for a moment to think, looking through the fence that separated the bands and the rest of Warped Tour. Admiring the orange and pink hue the sunset paints the field they’re in. He forgot which town they’re in and it’s only the fourth day.

He looks back at Pete who was picking at his lip while staring off into the distance. It’s a bad habit, they both know this, but they have worse habits to deal with.

Mikey sighs, grabbing Pete’s hand, “Hey, stop that.” Pushing his hand away from his mouth, his fingers quickly wrapping around Pete’s palm. Pete scans the area, giving Mikey’s hand a quick squeeze before placing a small peck to his lips. Mikey smiles, looking at the ground before back at Pete again.

“Yeah. Sure, I’m down,” His smile falters, looking away from Pete for a moment, “Only for the summer?” His eyes are back on Pete who’s now smiling, “Of course!” Pete pulls Mikey in a bit closer, indulging in Mikey and drinking in his scent of sweat and a hint of cologne before asking, “Why would it be longer?” He inspects the area once more before he uses his free hand to push Mikey’s hair out of his face, cupping his cheek and pulling Mikey in for a kiss.

Later that night, Mikey was deep in thought in his bunk on the My Chem tour bus, skimming through the pages of an old book he brought with him. He fingers the small tears at the corners of the hardcover book, the maroon cover with gold lettering was all too familiar yet the contents inside remained unread. He turns the book and reads the cover, his fingers feeling the golden indents on the leather.

The Picture of Dorian Gray.

He stole the book from his old job at Barnes and Noble. They weren’t fond of him asking for weeks off when performing across the East Coast with his band and their friends from Midtown. Fired after two years but at least he has this and their band name as a memory.

Not that he read the book or anything. He worked in the music section; books weren’t really his thing but something about this one caught his attention. Gerard had an Oscar Wilde phase during his last year of high school after reading The Canterville Ghost, so Mikey is somewhat familiar with the author.

He opens a random page and reads briefly before stopping and setting the book aside, letting out a long sigh. He curls up in himself, hugging his knees and staring at the page before his train of thought was interrupted by a light tapping on the wall outside his bunk beyond the thin, navy blue curtain.

He remains silent before a small voice spoke out, “Hey, Mikes? Are you there?”

It’s Gerard.

Mikey leans forward and pulls open the curtain, revealing his brother behind the navy shield.

“Can I come in?” Gerard asks and before Mikey could answer, he crawled in, making himself at home. Sitting against the wall next to Mikey, mimicking his position.

“Sure.” Mikey responds faintly in hopes of filling the silence that plagued the bunk and that part of the bus. The rest of the guys were probably out goofing off with Cortez or maybe at the front of the bus playing video games. Mikey didn’t know and frankly, didn’t care either.

The pair sit there for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company before Mikey notices Gerard’s gaze, silently cursing himself upon the realization that he’s reading the page that Mikey left off.

Gerard would constantly pester him to read the book and he never got around to it, ultimately convincing himself that at the age of 23 Oscar Wilde isn’t worth reading.

“Live. Live the wonderful life that is in you.” Gerard reads out loud, seemingly towards Mikey. Mikey just holds himself tighter, looking away from Gerard and the book.

He remains silent as Gerard reads him the rest of the passage.

“Be afraid of nothing,” Gerard finishes. Gerard grabs the book and closes it, looking over at Mikey. “What are you afraid of, Mikes?”

Mikey is suddenly filled with annoyance. He knows his brother means well but he really doesn’t want to answer, and he knows if he doesn’t Gerard will start asking questions. Ask him about where he was all day, why he’s so quiet, why is he finally reading Oscar Wilde after officially declaring his personal beef with the dead author while drunk after one of their shows a couple of years ago.

“The water and cutesy animated films.” Mikey answers and Gerard replies with an annoyed sigh. Mikey rolls his eyes, turning to meet the eyes of his brother for the first time since he got into the bunk.

“Where were you all day?” Gerard asks, “I know you’re old enough to watch over yourself, but I haven’t seen you since after our set.” Mikey looks away, he knows what’s coming next.

“Is it a girl?” Gerard asks his brother, gingerly placing a hand on Mikey’s shoulder.

Mikey frowned.

He knew his brother was the feminist type, often advocating for women’s rights on stage and in person. He always admired that about his brother, his courage. Just like how he wore makeup for the first time when him and his parents left to go to blockbuster when Gerard was 16, or how he would wear drag to school just for the hell of it or how Gerard would kiss Bert for the Taste of Chaos tour. That was a riot. Pissed off a lot of dudes from the scene but Gerard didn’t care.

He always knew his brother was brave like that, kissing and hugging dudes and holding them close and not being weird about it. He wishes he didn’t spend his first two years sleeping with every girl he could find to make up for the fact that he was questioning his sexuality.

The way he dressed and carried himself didn’t help either.

After the few incidents he was faced while on the bus, he decided that it’d be best if Gerard was his personal chauffeur rather than being asked by some older dude if he’d like to have a “good time” with him and some of his buddies at some shady club.

But that’s beside the point.

“No.” He answered coldly.

He was close with Gerard, yes, but he hadn’t talked to Gerard about his sexuality crisis. He knew that Gerard would understand but he’s not sure if he’s comfortable enough to talk about it himself. He didn’t want to push the responsibility on Gerard for him to deal with and then run off to whatever new problem or crisis is in his life.

“Then what is it?” Gerard’s voice was tight, and he was closer now.

Here goes nothing.

“It’s not a girl.”

Gerard was about to ask another question before Mikey cut him off.

“I was spending the day with Pete.” He started to stammer, “And uhm, He uh, he asked me if I could… uh.” Mikey was having some second thoughts, unsure if he could finish his sentence then Bob interrupted their conversation and Mikey thanked the God that he no longer believes in.

“Hey, Toro and Frank are wondering if you guys wanna stop at a 7/11 for some slurpees. We have the entire day tomorrow before we need to be at Dallas.” He asked the pair, his hands occupied with poker chips in one and Ray’s blue DS in another.

Mikey was quick to answer, “Sure.” Quickly getting up and out of the bunk, leaving Gerard behind with Bob.

“Tell me something, Frank,” Gerard asks his best friend who’s occupied with stuffing candy bars in a slurpee cup.

“Mmm, something.”

Gerard grumbles and Frank snickers at his annoyance.

“Ugh, no. I was talking to Mikey earlier and he was talking to me about Pete and how he asked him to do something, but Bob interrupted us before he could say anything.” Gerard crossed his arms, carefully watching his brother and the other bassist fuck with the nacho cheese machine, laughing amongst themselves and Gerard swore that there was a moment between them. He knew he had to get to the bottom of it.

“Well, I mean, do you think it’s anything important?” Frank asked as he attempted to shove another bag of skittles in the cup, completely oblivious to the pair that Gerard is watching.

“I think so. He was stressed earlier, and I didn’t think we wanted to tell me anything in the first place.” His eyes were off Mikey and Pete now as he didn’t want to be accused of anything later.

“Then don’t bother him.” Frank says bluntly, grabbing another cup for an actual slurpee while Gerard follows him to the machine.

“Why? He obviously seems bothered. Do you think Pete’s bothering him?” Gerard looks back at the pair who were now in the chip aisle, Pete picking for them both it seems.

Frank turns to look at Gerard, “Dude, he’s not 19 anymore and even if he was, you have to stop treating him like a child. Him and Pete seem perfectly fine. Maybe Pete asked him to play a show for them or something and was nervous to ask you if he could practice with them instead? And even if it wasn’t that. It’s totally fine. You know Mikey, he doesn’t get hurt easily.”

Gerard was a bit stunned by Frank’s response and just stared at Frank as he filled his cup with cherry-flavored slurpee. He knows he’s right, but he can’t help but worry about Mikey sometimes. He is a bit reckless but an adult. If he needs help, he’ll ask.

The two bands meet up at the cash register, their bassists in the back of the group while the others talk. Their chatter filling a mostly empty 7/11 while Pete and Mikey stand close together, their pinkies locked as they drink their slurpees feeling like the only people in the world.

[obscure-sentimentalist]

19. tibny

Prompt from the drabble challenge list

Part of the “Take It Back Now Y’all” (TIBNY) timeline; follow-up to this

“And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”

Connor comes to with a half-snort just in time for what feels like a newspaper to smack him full in the face.

“The hell, Tommy?” he grouses, doing his best to disguise the high-pitched whine underneath a jaw-cracking yawn. He flounders with the blankets to groggily push himself up into a seated position against the wall behind the bed, before belatedly snapping, “Get out of my room, asshole” like a sullen teenager.

“Happy to oblige,” his brother replies cheerfully, yet Connor doesn’t hear any shuffling or footfalls to corroborate that statement. After a moment, he finally cracks one eye open (immediately protesting the sun’s glare through an opening in the curtains) to see Tommy standing directly in the doorway, making jazz hands.

“Threshold, it doesn’t count!” The Cheshire grin doesn’t waver—it grows, even—when Tommy contorts his body to evade the pillow that Connor subsequently lobs at him.

Not willing to try again and further feed into this childish back-and-forth, Connor lets his head fall back against the wall as he scrubs a hand over his face. “Do I want to know why you thought it was necessary to use the spare key I gave you for emergencies and come barging into my place at…” He fumbles his free hand blindly over the nightstand. “…where’s my phone…?”

The very distinctive sound of a throat clearing makes Connor pause in his poorly-planned search. “If you’d turn your attention to your morning briefing,” Tommy prompts, nodding towards the jettisoned paper now resting in Connor’s lap. He clearly means to phrase it like a joke, but there’s an undercurrent of unease in his tone.

The reason for it becomes clear once Connor’s vision defogs enough for him to make out the contents of the front page.

(It’s admittedly not very difficult to do so, not with the font choice and very recognizable subjects of the blown-up photo positioned front-and-center.)

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Tommy parrots, finally sinking down to sit with his back propped against one side of the doorframe. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that this is what you signed up for and very casually accepted when we told Dad.”

“I guess I just… wasn’t quite expecting it to be on this level,” Connor confesses, a whole truth that he so rarely tells these days. He had, indeed, been ready for the Starling City media outlets catching wind of a lookalike to one of their questionably-favorite headline-makers, and whatever fallout ensued from telling their father.

(So far, it’s just been a simple press release pulled together through the preferred Merlyn Global PR channels—Malcolm forwent any sort of public address, likely so he could regroup and reexamine how being pulled into the spotlight like this might affect his plans moving forward. Neither of the twins have crossed paths with him since securing the future of the clinic, putting them into direct contrast with Malcolm’s ghostwritten wishes of “reuniting and getting to be a family with [his] two sons.”)

But this?

FROM RICHES TO RICHES: CHICAGO DEPARTMENT STORE HEIR REVEALED AS SON OF STARLING CITY BILLIONAIRE

Connor could maybe live—albeit uncomfortably—with being demoted from (up-and-coming, at this point) surgeon to just “that Rhodes.” Being called Malcolm’s son is toeing a line, but it’s an admittedly necessary evil. Even the accompanying photo—snapped by some paparazzo or another during one of Connor’s carefully-coordinated excursions through downtown Starling City—gets a pass, having captured Connor with his eyes squeezed shut in laughter and Tommy’s arm slung playfully around his neck.

No, the thing that really smacks Connor with his miscalculation is the newspaper’s logo printed across the top, and how it decidedly does not match that of any of the local publications.

“This is a big day for you,” Tommy says, falling just short of teasing as he rolls his head towards Connor and his eyebrows shoot up. “You made national news, you overnight celebrity, you.”

Connor groans, tipping to the side and unceremoniously face-planting into the mattress.

. . .

“You are seriously lucky that you told Claire that all of this was coming down before word got out,” Tommy declares around the slice of toast dangling out of his mouth when Connor steps into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed for casual comfort.

(Evidently, he’s not going to be showing his face outside of his apartment today, so faded jeans and the first t-shirt blindly unearthed from one of the boxes yet to be unpacked it is.

…At least the sunglasses-wearing Golden Retriever screen-printed on the front is adorable.)

Cringing—both at the reminder and the ill-mannered voicing of it—Connor yanks open the refrigerator to retrieve the orange juice bottle. “I know, I know, and I should be grateful that you were the one who pushed me to do so…”

“Damn right.” Tommy takes a bite and then waves the remainder of the bread for emphasis. Miraculously, not a single glob of cherry-berry jam slips off and plops onto the kitchen island as he does so. “You almost forgot entirely.”

“I didn’t… forget entirely,” Connor counters weakly. He ignores Tommy’s displeased look in favor of grabbing a clean juice glass from the cupboard. “I was trying to handle one reveal at a time, and getting the clinic back was the higher priority.”

“Right. And that’s why you yelled, ‘Oh shit, Claire!’ and whacked your knee on the dashboard as we were about to pull out of the parking lot after dropping the bomb on Dad. Clearly a smooth transition into the next stage—I commend your planning skills.”

Connor takes a swig of orange juice rather than giving that a verbal reply, daintily lifting a finger that’s decidedly not his pinky as he does so.

“Hey, it might be made for spreading delicious jams and jellies, but I will use this knife if you keep being rude,” Tommy warns, pointing the utensil at Connor threateningly enough that the dulled edges can be excused.

Withdrawing the glass from his lips, Connor raises his hands in casual surrender before setting it down on the counter. “Alright,” he starts, blowing out a deep breath, “so maybe I had a bit of… tunnel vision about all of this.”

Really, that’s the nicest way Connor can phrase it, without exposing the full ugliness of the truths underneath. Tommy’s right—Connor owes him credit for getting that conversation with Claire in motion immediately after the realization hit. But he’s also mistaken, thinking that this was something that just slipped Connor’s mind and to-do list.

In actuality, the idea had never truly crossed his mind, not until after they’d confronted Malcolm.

It’s a cruel confession, one with many layers that drive the knife in deeper and deeper. Connor had been single-mindedly focused on saving Tommy’s life, uniquely capable of doing so due to his knowledge of the months to come—as a result, everything else took an automatic backseat. And while that alone admittedly isn’t the healthiest mindset, the situation worsens the more Connor thinks on it and can rationalize what might have been, had Tommy not intervened.

He can tell himself that things would have been fine, leaving Claire be for a while. He’s lived through this before, knows that his relationship with his sister was as simple and distant as exchanging a few texts on birthdays and major holidays at this point in the timeline. It would still be a few years yet before they’d begin to repair things, after both are in Chicago again and Russell is brought in and Claire reaches out and Connor finally breaks, one mid-May night. He has time.

That would have been justification—cold, but still reasonable—enough, had things transpired as they did before. But with Connor doing everything in his power to alter the timeline, to avert mass casualties and his own personal loss… if everything goes right, he’s never going to hit that breaking point. Never going to move back to Chicago, at least not under the same circumstances. Any time he thought he had doesn’t so much run out as become nonexistent—no progress with rebuilding their relationship, but also no further decay.

At least, that’s what would have been the case if he didn’t fix things with Claire and didn’t reveal himself to Malcolm. It was moving forward with the latter that finally sent the consequences careening into Connor’s face, and slapped a definitive countdown clock on the former.

Saving Tommy while flying under the radar like Connor’s always done would be one thing. Doing so by coming forward as a Merlyn, and leaving the Rhodes family to hear the news along with the rest of the public, though?

Banging his knee against the dash at the realization was only going to be the beginning of Connor’s pain, if he didn’t handle things right and immediately.

Sacrificing his relationship with his older sister has never been on the table, even if Connor wants nothing to do with Cornelius Rhodes ever again. Yes, they aren’t blood-related, and yes, Claire’s loyalty to Cornelius (and discrediting of Connor’s issues with him outside of genetics) was still a rift even after reconciliation the first time around, but those are, in no way, grounds for complete severance.

“You can’t risk irreparable damage with one sibling just so you can officially be recognized as a brother to the other,” Tommy sighs, dragging Connor out of his thoughts even as the sentiment grounds them. Brushing stray toast crumbs off the island and onto his plate, Tommy slides off his chair to bring the dish over to the sink. “So no more of that ‘tunnel vision’, okay? I was actually hoping to invite Claire out for a visit once things settle down, and that isn’t going to go well if the two of you aren’t talking.”

Connor’s stomach twists at Tommy’s request—it’s too easy to equate giving up that laser-focus with risking Tommy’s life—only to plummet, heavy with guilt, when the rest hits him. “You were?”

“Well, yeah.” Tommy shoots Connor a confused look over his shoulder as he turns on the faucet. “She’s your sister, and even if that doesn’t really make her mine too, I still want to get to know her. Especially since I’ve had ‘Claire for Fashion Help Only’ saved in my contacts list for years and never put two-and-two together.”

Right, that had been a surprise. Knowing that Claire and Tommy had met once before at Dolan Rhodes and that Claire remembered it enough that she kept the receipt had been one thing; finding out that she’d given Tommy a means to contact her and he held onto it even as the memory of where it came from faded was something else entirely.

It meant that, even as Tommy’s existence shattered the truths she thought she knew about her family, Claire still cared enough to quietly anchor him to the Rhodeses and ensure that he wouldn’t be lost again. It meant that, even though the encounter didn’t linger and the gravity of it was concealed, Tommy was just aware enough of that tether to keep a grip on it.

Most importantly, though, it meant that this was a link that had existed in Connor’s original timeline, and could have surfaced in a quieter and more personal way than over a hastily-placed phone call, warning Claire of the oncoming explosion of her family’s private life.

It would have been entirely possible to keep both—eventually all, with the addition of Thea—of his siblings and forge bonds between them without causing a big fuss. Claire might have balked at first over not telling Cornelius anything, but Connor has enough faith that her wishes to reconnect with one brother and accept a new one would have won out in the end. Tommy, if his latest confession says anything, would have smothered the eagerness, but still jumped at the chance to acquire a new sibling. All Connor would have had to do was give his two family ties a tug, and that thin, invisible connection between them would keep the ends close while drifting to center.

But that was a could-have-been in a timeline gone by, one that Connor had never grasped for even though it was fully in his power to do so. Any second chance he has this time around is going to come with a sea of new complications and resistance, and that’s after he almost let it slip from his fingers at the very start.

It’s a certain painful irony, Tommy salvaging Connor’s fraying family life while Connor does his damndest to ensure that Tommy remains alive in general.

“We’ll shoot for this summer to get together,” Connor finally says, throat tightening around the words as if fearful he’s promising too much. “Let the fifteen minutes run out and give the media time to go rabid over something else.”

Tommy hums in acknowledgement, setting his clean plate on the drying rack next to the sink. “We could probably make it a little earlier, really—beat out the summer heat wave, but still leave enough time for the story run its full course. She could come in mid-, late spring, maybe?”

Connor is incredibly grateful that Tommy’s back is still turned, because the agonized cringe that suggestion provokes is insuppressible.

Tommy is going to survive—Connor won’t accept any other outcome (never again). But in the event that he can’t bring an end to Malcolm’s plans ahead of time, or prevent them from being put in motion, or…

“Nah, I’m thinking July,” Connor manages after a moment, keeping his voice level and casual before he takes a final swig of orange juice. “We’ll get Claire in town for a few days, then maybe do a short road trip. Get out, see some sights—you know, family bonding stuff.”

Tommy lets out a snort of laughter at that and flicks some lingering soap suds at Connor’s face before toweling off his hands. “Long hours in an overstuffed, overheated car with your adult siblings—that sounds like the perfect set-up for a successful fratricide.”

“Come on, a little positivity here. Claire’s going to love you.”

“Oh, no, I’m not the victim here, and neither is she,” Tommy corrects. “If you pass out in the back and start saying weird shit in your sleep again, I get the feeling that she’ll be on the same page as me about booting you out of the car in the middle of nowhere.”

Connor allows himself an exaggerated eye-roll at that, but otherwise lets it slide.

Tommy shoots his balled-up paper towel into the kitchen trash can before turning his attention back to Connor, his eyes stopping pointedly on the grinning, shades-sporting Golden. “Alright, since you’re clearly not dressed to be going anywhere in broad daylight, what do you say I run you off Rainbow Road a couple times? Don’t think I didn’t notice that you prioritized hooking up the Wii over all of your other unpacking.”

“Big talk for a guy with a shell-shaped target on his back,” Connor swipes back, but he grins and heads into the living room to grab the remotes and wheel controllers.

As driven as he is to save his brother’s life, a few Mario Kart victories are a worthy-enough detour.