#'have you ever heard of a ghost feeling warmth before?' still fucks me up btw

[tetrakys]

What I tell you? If makes me really warmth and happy to read about you ❤️. I'm happy to heard you're back to writing, I had checked your AO3 account in the past (I'm sorry that I'm a ghost reader) I'm going to check what you're up to when I have some time, I have a pretty good idea of what I can expect knowing is Lance.

I'm starting my baby journey into reading Agatha Christie, because I saw you and Sakurina talk about her books in the past years and I never read anything of her before (Sakurina helped me to pick something). Aside from that I haven't picked anything because I'm really lost about what to read and I'm just craving bizarre horror with some doze of romance and in spanish because I don't think I have the brain power to pull in another language haha. I need to check better the book you mentioned but feels like something that my sister would love more than me because she is obsessed with dragons.

I'm still playing MCL but I'm just pretty much over with the game. I pre-registered for New Gen and I'm going for Devon and Roy (I have many expectations for both) but I have also many worries (like basically everyone). I would like to send you a more private ask over this topics (There is something I want to say, but don't want everyone reading that, it's nothing bad either haha).

Now, on the very heavy topics (forgive me for the length of this):

I can say that Emma (Ikepri MC) is my second favorite MC after Mai (Ikesen MC). Is true she is basically like Disney Beauty: She is very smart, loves to read books and is very-strong willed. She has a sense of humor (something I love for a MC), has a very strong character when she gets mad and she holds integrity and personal values that make me respect her. So basically, yes! She is good for me!.

I personally don't like Silvio that much (Maybe I'll change my mind when I finish his story) is more like I read the previous route that was Rio and I have many questions that only Silvio can answer and I'm very curious to see the whole picture. The other reason is that there is going to be a love triangle between Rio, Silvio and Emma, and because I already know Rio pretty well, this is going to be ugly like a car crash and I don't want to watch but I want to watch the whole thing anyway.

Anyway, I really want to see Rio and Silvio fist fighting or even better: I want to watch Emma and Silvio fist fighting while Rio and the other princes are cheering on the background lmao. I know is probably not happening because Emma can't start a fight without ending in a political conflict between countries, but who knows, I'm only on chapter 9.

Silvio was so annoying in Rio's route, the jangler is a sleazeball, but I learned to appreciate him and I can see why people like him so much. I think he being horrible is entertaining and he is pretty smart, very handsome and has so much fuck you money to dominate the other nations and so far I enjoying his route a lot. Also I want to see this guy who is cursing on Emma's name while drunk to eat his own words, to bend like the fucking dog he is and start kissing the floor that Emma walks over lmao because I think that's the fucking point of playing this!!!.

About Ikevamp, I feel the same about the MC. From the moment I was reading the prologue, I knew the game was not up to my liking because I didn't like how the MC was. But I wanted to play for Sebastian anyway so I'd give it a chance. Sadly Sebastian got eclipsed by Faust (like literally is the first thing you see on the trailer and I was like "Hello?? Who are you??? You're fucking gorgeous BTW!").

And back to Faust, I think he is the only reason why I'm playing Ikevamp. The character is fucking perfection (I'm fucking biased as fuck). Playing his route was my reason to wake up every morning. I was eating him like the most delicious candy ever. I regret my life before him, I regret all the things I missed from this character because I wasn't playing this game. The guy and I share the same birthday month! and I didn't know that!!! WTF is wrong with me???.

MC and Faust fight and argue a lot and is the most entertaining thing ever ❤️ The sexual tension is good. I think the only few bad thing is that: Well, the localization quality is bad (I don't even speak english and I can tell) and well, there is ikevamp whole quality of their writing (like be real, there is better than this). More important: I wanted for Faust to be more nasty, I wanted more blasphemy, I wanted more of the "You're such a naughty girl moaning like that in from of god" in the church altar. IDK if the guy is a coward or is just that despite hating god and religion, he still shows some respect for those things. Well, I ended filling the gap with this fan fiction anyway, thank you so much for the food.

I don't know how to convince you that you should join Father Faust church and start living deliciously and that if you're going to play, please go premium for more nasty and sexy time and buy all his side stories, you would love it.

Well, I have to take a look about this threesome thing you're mentioning and well…

Charles and Faust? what the actual fuck? OMG. I dislike Charles BTW but ok I'll take it!!!. This is so fucking hilarious because Charles is always saying to Faust "If you're going to do something fun with her, please invite me!" hahahaha. Also there was a avatar contest on X (Twitter) because the game gifted to everyone some lingerine and clothing for the guy with the pants open (very bad taste but ok haha) and someone did a threesome with Charles and Faust and won the contest and now we have a card about that hahahahaha.

IDK, the info I see for this event is from JP, and what I found searching for 30 minutes is that there was a event in october 2022 called "Bride of the Vampires" featuring Leonardo, Mozart and Faust and you have to buy the epilogues with the threesomes (I was actually cursing myself because I think I was taking a break from some drama on Themis Twitter so I didn't pay attention to any of this). I don't know if is the same event of the event got reformatted for EN or there is more than one threesome event. If you have more information, I'm going to run an investigation, but I believe there is hope for a rerun event, so don't fret, I'm going to enter vigilante mode just for Faust and the horny.

Let me reply step by step otherwise I get lost 🤣

"I have a pretty good idea of what I can expect knowing is Lance." I'm not writing porn I swear 🤣 (except for maybe one slightly more explicit scene lol)

"I'm starting my baby journey into reading Agatha Christie" Omggggg I hope you're gonna love her books as much as I do. My favourite are the ones with Poirot.

"I would like to send you a more private ask over this topics" Of course! Feel free to DM me whenever you want and we can also chat on Discord.

"She is very smart, loves to read books and is very-strong willed. She has a sense of humor (something I love for a MC), has a very strong character" Ah this is such a relief!

"Also I want to see this guy who is cursing on Emma's name while drunk to eat his own words, to bend like the fucking dog he is and start kissing the floor that Emma walks over lmao because I think that's the fucking point of playing this!!!." I see you're also a fan of grovelling 😌 good good, that's what all asshole LIs should do eventually.

"More important: I wanted for Faust to be more nasty, I wanted more blasphemy, I wanted more of the "You're such a naughty girl moaning like that in from of god" in the church altar." This might be doe to the localisation, you're right. American/English translations tend to be tamer in this sense. *saves the fanfic for later*

"I don't know how to convince you that you should join Father Faust church and start living deliciously and that if you're going to play, please go premium for more nasty and sexy time and buy all his side stories, you would love it." You convinced me 🤣 (but tbh I was already sold) and I always go premium at least for the sex scene lol.

"someone did a threesome with Charles and Faust and won the contest and now we have a card about that hahahahaha" Can you please show me the card... for science... 🫣

"there was a event in october 2022 called "Bride of the Vampires"" Yes it's exactly that 😭😭 I found some videos on youtube but not of the premium epilogue which is of course what I really wanted to read. Please pleaaase let me know if the even is ever rerun 🙏🏻

[faulty-writes]

Okay, feel free to queue this for the time being, but I gotta send this in before my dumb-dumb brain forgets about it! A soulmate AU scenario: pro-hero Mirio moves in a house that's supposed to be haunted and finally meets his soulmate! The ghost. (she has a physical form btw). But she doesn't care if she is his soulmate, she wants him OUT. She throws things, torments Tamaki when he's over, and tries t keep Mirio awake at night. She died a year ago bc of villains and tells Mirio he's 'too late'.

[ I thought of Ghost Princess from Adventure Time when I first read this. Anyone else love Adventure Time? Definitely one of my favorite cartoons of all time. ]

Ever since graduating from U.A. Mirio had made quite the name for himself and he hoped he was making Sir Nighteye proud. Of course, he had taken the man’s words to heart. That he’d be the greatest hero there ever was and he wouldn’t let those expectations down! Of course, he did have the option of taking over Sir Nighteye’s Agency. However, he just didn’t have the heart. Instead, he had floated the idea of opening a new Agency to his friends Tamaki Amajiki and Nejire Hado. Though Nejire seemed on board, downright excited for a chance at owning an Agency with her friends.

Tamaki took a little more convincing, though Mirio understood why. Tamaki was close with Fat Gum and Kirishima in the current Agency he worked at. But eventually, everyone had to move on, right? Of course, he had given Tamaki some time to think it over. But in his head, he continued to picture The Big Three Agency. Though the three of them had only been Pro Heroes for about a year before pulling their money together and buying a building that was outside of Tokyo.

Of course, Mirio was already high in the ranks so he had a little more money to spare. He wanted to be close to his newly under maintenance Agency and decided to buy a house near the location. Given, the realtor seemed intent on trying to convince him to buy something else. He brushed it off, “Aw, come on! It could use some work sure! But that’ll just give me something to do on my off time!” he insisted, the house was rather big. Not so much a mansion, but a fairly decent size for Mirio’s taste.

Given it had cobwebs, some broken boards and the rooms could use some serious work. He looked at it as a friendly challenge, of course, there was one thing that he didn’t count on. His newly bought house was haunted or so the rumor went, Mirio wasn’t entirely sure if he believed in such things. Then again, in a world full of quirks and plenty more mysteries to be had. Maybe he shouldn’t push down the idea so quickly. Still, the first few nights during his stay at his new home were a little eerie.

He heard the house give a few creaks almost as if it were settling, sometime in the middle of the night he swore he heard whispers and doors opening. At first, he thought it was nothing more than his imagination. Until one day he had gotten up in the night to use the bathroom and saw a white glowing figure, he gasped and quickly rubbed his eyes. However, when he looked again the figure was gone. “Hm, that’s kind of weird. Guess I’m sleeper than I thought!” he said, though over the course of a month. He continued to see the figure and the noises he heard seemed to grow louder with each passing night.

The truth was, these occurrences were because of you and the fact was, you didn’t like that Mirio had budded into your territory. This was your home, this was your resting place and you’d be damned if you’d let someone else take that away from you. So, one day you had decided you had enough and when Mirio was sleeping. You began to administer your haunting. It was so easy, he was practically a sitting duck. Though you thought he looked almost peaceful as he laid there. But that wouldn’t stop you.

You began to rattle the furniture around him, the lamp, bed, and closet shook simultaneously. Making Mirio’s sleeping figure stir, you growled. This wasn’t enough, so you increased your power. The closet door slammed shut and Mirio jolted up, “Huh!? What’s going on?” you hadn’t decided to appear in front of him yet. But you did raise your hand, making his blanket fly across the room. His bed continued to violently shake as though there was an earthquake and Mirio stumbled to try and get up, but he ended up falling to the floor with a loud crash.

“Ah!” he cried out, groaning as he pushed himself onto his knees. He looked around, his eyes wide and fearful as he saw the various items shaking and dancing towards him. You loved the sense of fear that dripped off of him and slowly appeared before him. Your feet floating above the floor and your hair flowing behind you, there was a white glow to you though Mirio would be able to see straight through your transparent body. “Get out.” you hissed and Mirio’s head immediately turned to face you, his jaw-dropping further as he settled his eyes on you.

Yet, his trembling came to a stop. You could see your own reflection in his blue eyes which seemed to sparkle with something. “Wow…” Mirio whispered before slowly standing on his feet, he took a step toward you. “A-Am I dreaming?” he questioned and you raised your eyebrow, “GET OUT.” you repeated, your eerie voice echoing through the room. Mirio however, seemed unphased. His eyes never leaving you, what was he so fascinated with!? A smile was across his face and his hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to touch you.

“Y-You’re so beautiful,” he said and for a moment, you felt some form of warmth wash over your otherwise cold atmosphere. But it was cut short when your eyes turned red and you sent the lamp flying towards the blond. However, the last thing you expected was for the lamp to pass right through him. Your eyes went wide and you floated back. “What is this!?” the demand came out as a hiss and for a moment, you wondered if he was a ghost as well. But that was impossible, you had seen him with the realtor. You had seen the news stories about him whenever he watched television.

He was some sort of hero, you knew that and such a thing only further angered you. “Hm?” Mirio blinked and soon a chuckle left his lips, “How dare you mock me!” you screamed, your ghostly form morphing into something hideous. Your eyes remained red and your fingers grew into almost jagged claws. The whole room shook as you focused all your energy. Mirio frowned and you partly wondered if he had realized how badly he fucked up. But it was a little too late and you watched in satisfaction as the force of your power knocked him off his feet.

You watched him fly across the room, straight through a wall that he had worked ever so hard to repair. But you felt nothing, he deserved it. With that, you disappeared once more. However, unknown to you. Mirio had felt something when he set his eyes on you and though it didn’t make sense, he immediately knew. He had heard stories, each person in this world destined for a soulmate and some were lucky to find their other half. He never thought it would happen to him, much less in this way.

He had gotten injured when you threw him through the wall and for a short moment, Mirio was struggling with his own beliefs. Did what occur truly happen or was it simply a bad nightmare? Were you a villain? Were you a ghost or you were simply using a quirk? He wasn’t sure, but when he told Nejire and Tamaki. They seemed to go white in the face. “T-That doesn’t s-sound g-good, M-Mirio.” Tamaki said and Nejire nodded, bringing her hands up. “Yeah! Didn’t you hear those nasty rumors regarding that house? Why the heck did you think buying it was a good idea!?” she exclaimed and Mirio only shrugged.

“I mean, it was close to the Agency,” he explained, and both his friend's sigh. “A-Are you h-hurt?” Tamaki questioned and Mirio shrugged. “Not really, I didn’t expect them to have such power. But if you saw how beautiful they were! You’d probably be just as memorized.” he said and Nejire immediately began waving her arms. “Oh no, I am not going to a haunted house! Too scary!” she declared as she crossed her arms and then Mirio turned to Tamaki who felt his stomach drop. “W-What-” before Tamaki could even speak, Mirio had grabbed his hands.

“Come on, Tamaki! You gotta help me! Stay the night or come over one day! Maybe they’ll appear before you too! I kind of want to know if it’s just me or if I’m crazy. Please!?” he begged and Tamaki groaned, of course, he’d do anything for his friend. But this was a little extreme, he didn’t like the idea of going to a haunted house. Much less see this thing that happened to attack Mirio and throw him through a wall. But, like many other times in his life. He felt as though he had no choice and that he didn’t have the courage to say no.

So with a deep sigh, he hung his head low. “Fine,” he said and gasped when Mirio pulled him into a hug. “Thank you so much Tamaki!” he exclaimed before pulling away, his hands on the shy boy’s shoulders. “Don’t worry! I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he promised, though somehow Tamaki knew better than to believe in Mirio’s words. Sure he looked up to him and he still believed the man shined brighter than the sun. But ever since they were children, the things Mirio dragged him into caused some rather bad results.

Still, at the end of the workday. Tamaki left with Mirio and nearly fainted when he stepped through the doors of Mirio’s house. He had an eerie feeling and his stomach twisted into knots, “Come on! I’ll make us some food!” Mirio insisted and though Tamaki was hesitant, he agreed. Though he couldn’t help shake the feeling that someone was watching him. The evening was peaceful, but when the sun began to set. Tamaki began to experience odd phenomenons. It was small, like how his coffee cup had moved from the position on the table he had originally placed it.

How his jacket was suddenly thrown across the room, he was a shaking mess by the time he felt someone’s fingers brush across his body. But the final straw was when something flew across the room at him, shattering against his body. “M-Mirio! I c-can’t!” there were tears in his eyes and it was clear he was close to having a panic attack. Mirio frowned and tried to pull his friend into a hug, but Tamaki pushed him away. “I d-don’t know what g-going on, b-but maybe you s-should listen to t-this...g-ghost, t-this demon! W-Whatever it is and l-leave! I-It’s clearly n-not nice!” he failed to notice that during his panicked rambling your figure had appeared behind him.

You were floating in midair as always. Mirio’s worried expression faded when he saw you, once more that sparkle appeared in his eyes and a smile came across his face. Though you were wearing an annoyed expression, it was bad enough having Mirio invade your peace. But now he had a friend? Tamaki as you came to understand his name was. That wouldn’t do. “W-What are you looking a-at?!” the dark-haired boy demanded before turning around.

You grinned and shifted into your more menacing form, watching as all the color drained from Tamaki’s face before you let out a threatening growl that sounded like it was from the depths of hell itself. The satisfying sound of his scream was like music to your ears and despite Mirio’s best efforts to try and stop Tamaki, the utterly anxiety-ridden boy from running out the door. He didn’t care about leaving Mirio behind, in fact, the only thing he seemed to care about at that moment was running as far away from the dangerous situation as possible.

Mirio frowned and turned back to you, “That wasn’t very nice.” he replied, though he was normally happy and bubbly. He was also a hero and he didn’t hesitate to put people in their place when he needed to. You merely laughed at his words, returning to your normal state. “You’re next.” you threatened and while Mirio was still mad at your antics from earlier. Your efforts to scare him off during the middle of the night seemed all in vain.

In fact, it seemed that Mirio was more or less used to your hauntings now. Which in a way annoyed you, but not as much as the fact that he tried to strike up a conversation with you. “Sunshine, I know you’re not going to believe this. But I feel something between us, it’s kind of weird. But well,” he paused and rubbed the back of his head, sitting up in his bed. You were floating in front of him and clearly, you weren’t happy. The light that you produced illuminated the otherwise dark surroundings, “Can I ask how you died? How long have you been...here?” he questioned and you growled, once more your eyes turning red. “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS HERO!” you snapped before disappearing, leaving Mirio dumbfounded.

It was no surprise that you didn’t want to share the facts behind your death with anyone, but somehow or another. You had grown so used to Mirio’s presence the hatred you once felt seemed to melt. Which you found strange, but instead of haunting him at night. You would watch him sleep and you began to get eager when he left, just waiting for him to return to you once more. Mirio seemed happy by your reaction, but somehow he just knew you’d get along with him. However, you still kept your guard up and found yourself being a little envious of the stories Mirio began to share with you. But what bothered you the most is the day Mirio came home, excited beyond anything.

Apparently, he had moved up on the hero board, taking the number two spot and for the following weeks, it's all he seemed to talk about. You had quickly gotten sick of hearing it, yes being a hero was wonderful. But hearing him talk about his accomplishments made you angry. You too had done some great things when you were alive, in fact, you loved being a hero. Yet, the world cursed you with death and you had to watch as others accomplished the dream you wanted. "I still can't believe it! I mean, someone like me the number two hero in the world! It's just incredible-" you growled and snapped your head in his direction.

Your hair whipping around like fire and your eyes burned with anger. "WILL YOU SHUT UP?!?" you finally snapped, objects that were once peacefully resting on the tables and shelves now shot across the room. Pieces of glass scattered on the floor and Mirio’s eyes widened, you didn’t care if you had surprised or shocked him. It was a miracle that he had finally stopped talking. “I am sick,” you began with a hiss, “of hearing you and your hero stories! Do you think I enjoy hearing about your success when I cannot leave this property!?” you snapped. You could swear you heard Mirio swallow, was he nervous?

Your shoulders dropped and a sigh left your lips. Mirio still looked shocked and there was a hurt expression on his face. Somehow, you hated seeing that. “Sorry,” you muttered before floating to his side, giving the illusion that you were sitting next to him on the couch. “No…” Mirio said, his voice soft. “I should be sorry, sunshine. I didn’t mean to make you angry,” he said, hanging his head low. You heard a sniff come from the man and watched him wipe his nose. Damn, did you make him that upset? You wanted to reach out and touch him if only your hand didn’t phase through him.

“Look...you...um,” you struggled to find the words and rubbed the back of your head. “I guess I just got...angry because...because hearing all your success stories just makes me think back to when I was a hero and I...loved it.” you began and watched as his head turned to face you. “Y-You did?” he questioned, yet again reaching up to wipe his nose and you nodded. “Yes...but I met my untimely death at the hands of a villain. It was during an important mission, we were scouting out the whereabouts of an underground lab where they were doing involuntary experiments on quirk users.” the memory flashed clear as day before your eyes. “I made the mistake of letting my guard down and…” you took a staggered breath and squeezed your eyes shut.

“You don’t have to say it,” Mirio whispered, reaching his hand out only for it to phase through you which made him frown. “Even if you are...just in another form of life, you are still my soulmate and...I still want to be with you and have your heart,” he said and your eyes snapped open. “What…” you hissed, anger filling you once more and Mirio looked confused. “Did I say something wrong?” he questioned and you growled before the room grew cold. “You dare mock me with such words?!” before Mirio had the chance to speak again, his body flew back. Hitting the opposite wall and objects began to swirl around him.

“S-Sunshine, what are you doing!?” you didn’t answer him and over the course of the next few days, you tormented the man. Broke almost every possession he had, kept him up with terrifying noises at night, and smiled in satisfaction when you saw how physically drained he was. Maybe now he’d give up. But once more you were proven wrong when he came home from work one day and you resumed your torment routine, but this time when the objects came flying at him. They phased right through him and you growled, damn him and his quirk. “Listen, I’ve been thinking,” he began, “maybe I said the wrong thing. But I don’t regret it and like it or not. You are my soulmate, I know you are. I feel it in here.” he placed his hand to his heart.

“Huh?” you paused, “It doesn’t matter what you do to me because I love you.” your eyes widened, what!? How could he still feel that way after everything you had done to him?! Done to his friend!? This was...bullshit in its purest form. “You are a liar! You cannot love what is not there! I do not exist in this world! People do not believe in ghosts and I will never love you.” once more you watched that hurt expression come across his face but you ignored it as you disappeared into thin air. You didn’t reappear, deciding it was best to enjoy some solitude. You could hear the pipes rattle when Mirio got up to take his shower and the sound of doors opening and closing. You hadn’t realized just how quiet it was without him.

A few days later, Mirio had left as usual and hours later, you waited for the sound of the front door to come when he returned. However, the house remained silent. You tried to shrug it off at first, much like you had done before when you realized you actually enjoyed his presence. But as the hours continued to go by, somehow you knew something was wrong. You phased through the floors to look for him, but he wasn’t in the kitchen, nor the living room or in any of the other rooms. Where the hell was he? Was he hanging out with his friends or something? You tried to ignore the jealous feeling that came over you. Perhaps it was because you were dead, but whenever Mirio was around you felt a certain sense of warmth. It almost made you feel alive but you didn’t want to fully believe it, you didn’t want to believe Mirio was your soulmate.

You growled, curling your hands into fists and released your energy, much like always. Objects flew around you, which included the remote. You hadn’t expected it to collide with the television and ironically enough it turned on, “Oh, what the hell!?” you exclaimed, irritated as the rather boring chatter of the news echoed in the empty house. You let out a sigh and pressed two fingers to your temple, shaking your head. “Where is he…” you muttered to yourself and as if the television had actually heard you, the name ‘Lemillion’ was mentioned and you immediately turned your head. 

Watching the news banner flash before the screen. You quickly scanned it before focusing on the news anchor. ‘That’s right folks! Just recently promoted, Lemillion the number two hero in the world has done it yet again. Stopping not only one, but two villainous gangs from performing an illegal drug shipment. Though our favorite hero was injured during this mission, we’re told he’s in stable condition. Later details when they come’ your jaw hung open and though you hadn’t realized it, your hands were clenched to your chest.

He was in the hospital? “Dammit!” you snapped, the room slowly icing over as your negative emotions made the temperature drop. Now more than ever you wished you hadn’t gotten killed, you wished those villains hadn’t ended your life, you wished you had never taken on that stupid mission. Is a hero truly supposed to sacrifice themselves like this? You were a great hero and yet even after your death, you were quickly forgotten. 

Tossed alongside as new heroes rose through the ranks, just a forgotten relic that even the history books wouldn’t document. You hunched over, your body trembling before you let out a shriek. The sound of glass shattering filled the house, but you didn’t care. This...this wasn’t fair! The world hadn’t changed at all and Mirio...as kind and sweet as he was couldn’t see that and it might just mean his death.

The house was in ruins by the time Mirio returned, “Sunshine, I’m home-” his expression dropped as he saw the damage you had done. Tables overturned, furniture ripped to shreds, pieces of glass everywhere, even the walls had deep scratches on them. “Y/n!?” he called as he stepped inside, trying his best to avoid the glass. “Y/n!? Where are you? What happened!?” he demanded as a frown spread across his lips, why did you do this? Was it because he was gone too long? He felt a sense of guilt fill him before he heard a sigh coming from behind him. Immediately he whipped around to see you floating there, your head hanging low and your eyes avoiding him.

“Y/n! What happened?” he asked once more, trying to keep calm. It would take him weeks to clean this up and possibly get new furniture. “You were gone for too long,” you replied, your voice soft and an almost childish tone accompanied it. Mirio stepped closer to you, his arms spread out. “So you did do this, all of this?” he said as he used his arms to signify the mess around him. You kept quiet for a moment before slowly raising your head to look at him, “You shouldn’t sacrifice yourself like that.” you commented and Mirio grew confused. “Huh?” he replied and you growled in frustration, your body moving on its own as you tried to push against his chest. But, of course, your arms went right through him.

He raised his eyebrow, “W-Were you trying to push me?” he questioned and you wanted to let out a scream, but instead, you snapped. “Why did you do that!? Sacrifice yourself for people that don’t care!?” your voice echoed through the room and Mirio took a step back, his eyes wide. “What’s going to happen if you die!? Hm? You think dying is fun!? You think any hero who loves what they do and risks so much is actually going to be remembered in the end!?” you continued, jabbing your finger in his direction. “Well, they aren’t! I was a great hero too! One of the best in my class and yet...yet when I died no one remembered me! I was buried along with every other wannabe hero in existence! Forgotten!” you exclaimed, if you were alive surely there would be tears streaming down your face but ghosts didn’t have that ability. Perhaps it was the curse of being dead, you could feel emotions yes but physical aspects like crying were impossible. But you felt a deep sadness nonetheless.

Mirio blinked, “I-Is that what you really think?” he questioned, his shoulders dropping. Well, no wonder you were so sad, someone needed to tell you that you mattered! So instead, he tried to smile. “That’s not true! Maybe certain people will forget you. But a great hero always lives on! No matter what you believe, someone out there. Heck, I’m sure lots of people still remember you! I bet they miss you every single day and I also bet you even inspired some of them that wanted to be heroes. So, they’ll follow in your footsteps as a dedication to you.” he said and you swore you felt a thump in your chest, “No one is ever truly forgotten and though it’s only been months since we met. I know I’ll never forget you.” he concluded as he approached you.

Your face was twisted, it almost looked like you were in pain. How could he say such things?! Your hand twisted in your shirt, that same warmth you felt near Mirio seemed to be spread through your body and that thumping continued. You hated it, whatever it was. You were dead, this couldn’t possibly be a heartbeat? You choked down a sob as Mirio’s hand reached out to you. “What are you-” he interrupted you, “Just try to take my hand, sunshine,” he replied and you frowned, how were you supposed to do that? You looked at that hand before shifting your focus to Mirio once more and hesitantly reached out.

Your hand hovered in his, giving the illusion he wanted. That you were holding hands, “Wow.” he said, almost acting as if something was new or wrong. You raised your eyebrow, “Uh w-what?” you questioned and grew puzzled when you watched a blush come across his face. “You’re so warm, unlike before.” your eyes widened, what? How could that be? You couldn’t be warm unless you somehow found a source of happiness. “It’s so nice.” he said as he stepped closer to you, “I also hear something,” he noted before closing his eyes, just listening for a moment. “Uh…” you trailed off and floated back some, though your hand was technically still in his. “It sounds like a heartbeat,” he concluded and you grew panicked. Mirio must have sensed this, “Please don’t run away. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, I think...I think it’s a sign.” you looked at him confused.

“What?” you replied, tilting your head to the side and he chuckled in response, the noise only causing your heartbeat to accelerate. “Well, what would you say if I was bold enough to assume that you have feelings for me too.” he began as he stepped even closer, invading your personal space. “Uh…” your eyes widened as it almost seemed like he was trying to corner you. His hand even came up, attempting to caress your cheek. “I want to try something, is that okay?” he questioned and through you were a little antsy as to what he wanted to do. You nonetheless, found yourself nodding. He smiled gently at you, “Good.” he said with a smirk before leaning forward.

Your breath hitched when you realized what he was trying to do, it was silly. Stupid actually, but somehow it made you smile as his lips phased through yours. It was still a nice feeling and you swore you could actually feel it. You closed your eyes, phasing your arms through him to try and hover your hands on his shoulders. It was a strange moment, to say the least, but it made you smile all the same as he pulled away. “You do realize that wasn’t technically a kiss. More like pressing your lips against the air.” Mirio chuckled, “Well...I think it’s the best I can do for now.” he said, rubbing the back of his head with a flushed face.

“You’re in love with a ghost,” you replied, finding yourself laughing. “Hey now…” Mirio pouted, “Don’t make fun of me too much! You’re the one that didn’t feel the same at first!” he pointed out and your laughing came to a screeching halt. You growled, “That’s because you kept insisting that-” he held his hand up, “Yeah, I know. Maybe I was too pushy with my feelings, but regardless. I do love you and you love me back, hopefully?” he said and almost reminded you of Tamaki with the way he began to play with his fingers. You let out a sigh, floating past him. “I guess that’s something you’ll find out when your time comes,” you replied before disappearing through the ceiling. Mirio stood there, dumbfounded for a moment before calling your name and trying to chase after you. This was certainly some kind of love story.

[tmabutlesbian]

This one wasn’t requested bUT! i went on a random chooser thing and put the ships in and the two A girls came first! 

This is like. An example of what a request will look like. In any case, this one shot happens when Agnes is about 14 years old. If you’ve read my other post about this AU, you’ll know that shit goes down when she’s 14 so. yeah.

Summary: Annabelle and Gerry have kept secrets from Agnes and Martin. Agnes’ too busy running away from a ghost lady and dealing with cult stuff to be properly mad about it. (Agnes and Annabelle)

(this got long so. sorry. also its 2am so if theres any errors, tell me pls thx)

(TW: Agnes is a bit of an unreliable narrator. She refers to the cult as her ‘family’ a lot, so if that’s not up to your league, here’s your warning. She does realize her situation by the end, btw. If you’re still interested in reading, I’ll link you an edited version. Not right now, but I’ll do it, no worries.)

(edit: I’m fixing some errors and fining some stuff. i don’t want to change much, my progress will show better in other future works. yh thats it)

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The rain kept pouring, hard, heavy. There wasn’t much wind and yet when the three ran they felt as if the air itself was in their favor, pushing them forward, faster, scrambling their way into the manor before she could catch them.

Ah, yes, she. The lady of the lake apparently. Gerry hadn’t explained himself well enough. And even if he did it would never be enough. Through the trees and the front garden, Agnes can hear Martin’s anger and hurt and betrayal between the fear. She feels it too, somewhere.

Their feet pound in harmony with the rain and they stop in sync when the big main doors close behind them, dripping all over the main entrance like wet dogs. God, she hates the rain.

Annabelle has heard them by now for sure. Does she know more than Gerry does? What do they know, entirely? Does it matter anyways? She can hear the voice of her family, all the way back in town. ‘The world will end anyways, Agnes,’ the reverence and want in their voices makes her want to smash her head into a wall and end, ‘you’ll bring it to us, not them.’ This may be the perfect opportunity to end it. To end her stay at Magnus Manor, to leave, and cry, and hurt, and end-

“Okay-” the broken silence grounds into dust when Gerry speaks up, and yet she’s glad for it, in some far away part of hers. “She can- fuck- open the... main doors even if they’re locked so-” Martin doesn’t look like he’s listening but he’s good at appearing non-existent. It would be more effective if he didn’t end every harsh breath with a growl. 

Gerry takes longer to continue, and Martin snaps his head up, eyes golden around the edges. “She can... the-” he swallows around his dry throat. “The ghost lady. That comes- from the lake. She can just... open the main doors...?” Agnes feels his disbelief, somewhere, far. He’s indignant too. She can relate. “And you were just- just going to- to not tell us about it?!” masking hurt under anger is more of a Gerry move, but Martin spends so much time with him, he’s prone to pick up some habits. “How is this protecting us! How?! What-”

“Listen, I know this is bad and I’m sorry,” she hears faint running steps from deep within the manor. Annabelle’s coming, “but we have to get away from the- the doors.” when he grabs and drags her away she goes limply. Martin just pushes him away. Gerry falters; he’s shaking. “Martin, please-”

Oh, how Agnes aches when she sees the tears forming in Martin’s brown- golden eyes. “No, fuck off! How dare you! You, Annabelle,” he turns to Agnes and frowns, teeth bared but she can’t be sure, why is everything so unclear, is she crying-? “even Agnes- you all lied to me! Hid from me!” Gerry tried to butt in but Martin didn’t let him, “No- you- the ghosts! The fears! The magic! You hid everything from us, and you call that ‘protecting us’ but in reality it just puts us in more danger!” where’s Annabelle? She takes her sweet time in the worst moments. Gerry’s shaking but she’s sure it’s not all cold. “You wanted to study us. Right? You bloody-”

The rain drones everything out when the lady opens the main doors, even Annabelle’s hurried entrance. The lady’s so close, too close, they’re too close to the door-

Suddenly she’s farther away and Martin’s right next to Agnes, both of them behind Gerry, arms out to hide them away from her, from the lady. But she ignores everyone and ascends the stairs, Annabelle scurrying out of her way, and then the ghost turns a corner, and vanishes from view. And all is quiet.

Annabelle descends the stairs in a much quicker but staggered pace than the ghost, looking stricken while the lady had no face at all. “What were you doing out there? Are you all alright? Gerry-”

“They know.” it was surprising how his voice didn’t shake when the rest of his body did. Annabelle froze. “Annabelle-”

“Were you ever going to tell us?!” she hears Martin’s voice break and the tears spill, and they glisten the gold in his eyes, but she needs to get out, she needs to go, she’s going- she can’t-

“I,” she speaks so quietly these days. While she grows hotter, scalding and perfect for her family, to them- Martin, Gerry, Annabelle- she’s ice cold. She’s dying away, just like the world will, one day, she will burn it, whatever else is she made for but to destroy? “I want to leave.” even quietly, they stop and listen to her. Gerry frowns, mouth hanging open. Annabelle goes still but her eyes are set; she knows something Agnes knows too, but she can’t reach it, she’s so far away. And Martin. He’s breathing hard again but it’s the tears’ work this time, not the running. He can only let out a ‘what?’, soft and weak and fragile and too much when they all hear the footsteps of a fourth entity coming down. 

They swivel around and back away but the lady’s in her own world, roaming out of the manor slowly, resigned. Agnes can relate to that too.

The doors shut out the rain as they close, and Martin’s sniffs are the only thing more broken than the quiet she left behind. Annabelle turns around, facing Agnes head on. Many don’t respect Miss Cane, and she never understood why. Is it her height? Her lisp? The fact that she needs a cane to help her walk? All Agnes has ever felt for her was respect. Reverence, but different from the one her family in town have for Agnes. Behind her pursed brow and hard set lips lies the mother Agnes never had. Really, is she crying? She feels like she should be. Can a messiah cry? Agnes’ too far away to know, probably.

If Agnes had been shorter than Annabelle she would’ve knelt down to her knees. As it is, she only places her steady shaking hands on Agnes’ shoulders, hard. “Agnes, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Martin’s shoulders bunch up to his ears and Gerry’s nearby, hesitant to help lest he makes it all worse, and she should look back to Annabelle now, let the boys fade to the background. “I know who your ‘family’ is, alright? The ones who have been stealing you away from us,” Agnes wouldn’t call it stealing. It just made sense. What’s the point of friends if everything’s going to burn anyways. “us, Agnes, and do you know why? The real reason why?” the twitch in her brow will have to be answer enough. She feels lightheaded. Annabelle’s hands are the only thing keeping her upright. “Because we are your warmth, Agnes.

“Those people you go back to, they want you to burn. But you don’t want that do you? Not really. I can see it, y’know? When it’s snowing and they come to pick you up sooner than you were expecting and- you hate the snow, the cold, and yet you hesitate at the front doors when it’s time to go.” Agnes remembers. She- she wants to go, surely, it’s her home, with her family. Her- she- it’s her destiny. She can’t stay. There’s nothing else to do but to go. “They tell you big words, about ‘destiny’ and ‘fate’, but they’re wrong. The only destiny you have it’s the one you make for yourself, not what others have carved out for you.” her hand flies to her face and it comes back wet. Oh, there’s the tears. She hiccups around Annabelle’s words. “I will never tell you lies ever again. I will never show you a path while hiding the millions of others and claiming it’s the only way. I will never hurt you by making you do it yourself and believing it’s the right thing to do. And,” here her voice shakes, and Agnes can’t remember any other time when Miss Cane wasn’t steady and yet, here they are, “I will never give up on you, Agnes.” her thin body, like dry sticks ready to be lit, shakes when she sobs but she doesn’t dare break eye contact with her mother.

“There’s no soft way to say this, and I won’t sugarcoat anything else, or hide anything from either of you again.” she looks briefly at Martin, who’s in a very much similar state to Agnes, grabbing Gerry’s sleeve. Agnes’ closer now, and the thought of ‘I’m going to tease about that later’ almost makes her laugh out loud. “You are being raised in a cult, Agnes.” well, there goes the laughter.

Something she knew but couldn’t reach. It’s like- well, not a slap, a slap’s surprising. More... a wave crashing all around her; she saw it coming, and she let it emerge her in the messy, icy depths of it.

Annabelle takes it away, explains their plans, the plans for her, teaches Agnes about all the painful things she knew deep down but couldn’t reach. She’s lucky, she realizes, to have someone take her by the hand and pull her closer, however jarring it is.

She takes Agnes’ face in her hands, smearing them with tears, and when she promises, “I’ll make this right, we’ll do it, just tell me how and we’ll make it true.” she believes her. Truly, so raw it burns her chest, and it hurts, but she’s closer than she’s been in years, and the most she can do now is throw herself at Annabelle and let herself be hugged.

There’s so many things to do. They need to get her family- the cul- her- them out of her hair until she can find herself again. Or for the first time. They took all the years she’s had until now after all. 

Martin all but runs to her arms, wetting her sleep clothes. Gerry wraps an arm around her shoulders, slowly, and rests his head on top of hers, his mutter barely audible when his mouth is in her hair. “I’m sorry. Please don’t go.” she reaches for the wrist resting on her free shoulder and squeezes, and Gerry sighs a broken little thing that has her shaking harder again. But she’s closer now, again. She’s here. She wants to stay in here.

Her hand meets Annabelle’s and she feels herself breathe, again. Finally.

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 13 - Ghosts

…in which Y/N returns to Holmes Chapel, and Harry is a little too late.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 12: I Love You - Y/N wants to face her past, but Harry wants to leave his behind.

Warning: EXTREME angst. 

Idk why I decided to break my own heart and everyone else’s but let’s bear with me for a better future for our babies lmao. Btw, if you guys want a cute happy song to cheer you up, Taylor Swift’s new song ME! fits their relationship very well.

OC version

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1:45 AM.

Most of the bad decisions in Harry's life by far had been made at this time of the day, when his brain was numb and his defenses were down. It started with teenage Harry throwing pebbles at his crush's window and getting chased by her father, to 24-year-old Harry picking up the call from the person he'd been avoiding for months.

Though his number one advice to himself had always been: 'if you're awake at two in the morning, just go to sleep', it was still something he'd never learned.

Sitting in the swivel chair by the floor-to-ceiling window, Harry looked out at the city, one hand gripping the phone at his ear, the other subconsciously tapping on his knee. The woman on the phone was waiting for his reply, but what she wanted to hear wasn't what he could give.

"H, say something."

A little part of him wanted to end the call and go back to bed where his present and possible future was expecting him, yet there he was, clinging onto the ghost of his past by prolonging that unnecessary conversation that was heading nowhere.

"Can I—" Ruby spoke again when all she could hear was his ragged breathing. "Can I just come over? I need to see you."

"I don't want to see you," he finally said. Judging by the sudden pause, he knew she was taken aback by that stone cold answer.

"I broke things off with him. It's true this time." Her voice trembled just like how she'd told him she would never leave him the night before she left. This might be another one of her easy lies. But why did he keep on listening instead of hanging up?

"We're gonna make an official announcement soon. But I wanted you to hear it from me," she went on to fill in his silence. "Baby, I-I know you won't believe me when I tell you this, but I love you. I still do. As much as I did before. I'm sorry I waited until now to finally end things with James. I guess I was just scared, but I'm not scared anymore. Now I know what I want. And I want us."

That was exactly what Harry had wanted to hear a couple months ago. But everything was different now.

"Rubes," he whispered, eyes squeezed shut as his brows furrowed harder. The sound of her laugh used to take him to heaven, now it only dragged him to hell.

"I missed your voice," Ruby said, funny how a smile could be heard through the phone. "I miss you. Terribly."

He shook his head slowly, afterward smiling to himself as he remembered she couldn't see him.

"Please say something, H. Anything. Let me see you."

His face contorted as she begged him in the most tragic tone he'd ever heard. It was like cleaning your closet and trying to debate if you should throw away the t-shirt you used to love that didn't fit anymore. He wanted her to shut up, but at the same time, didn't have the heart to end the conversation.

"I loved you a lot," he said at last, trying to steady his breathing when he heard her do the same. "I guess...you're always gonna mean something to me."

Ruby released a slight laugh as he took a pause. "But?"

He sighed in response to her voice crack, praying that she wouldn't burst into tears, for he wouldn't know how to cope with it. "I can't do this again, Rubes. Go back to your fiancé. We're over."

"I can't go back to the man I don't love."

"You did once before. Sure you can do it again." He chuckled wryly. "I-I'm very sorry."

She wasn't the woman he loved anymore. She was Ruby Ellis — his co-star, an actress, a stranger. That was who she was to him from now on. And he knew better than to go back to her. However, his heart ached to the thought of never hearing from her again after this call. Now he was so confused. What was it that he wanted?

Ruby didn't say anything, yet he could hear her quiet sobs which were slowly killing him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, holding his breath while waiting impatiently for her reply, which, sadly, never came.

The loud noise at the living room entrance caused his head to spin just in time Y/N caught the vase before it collided with the floor. Her big eyes stared straight at him, and his heart broke in reaction to her expression. Without reluctance, he ended the call with his ex-lover and rose from the chair, keeping eye-contact with Y/N as she took a few steps forward, eyes already filled with tears.

"Ruby?" Her voice was strained. "Ruby Ellis? The actress?"

Harry nodded, eyes glued to the floor. Y/N held her head with both hands, trying to fight the battle of emotions inside her chest as she put two and two together.

"But she'd been with her fiancé for three years." It was more like her talking to herself than to him. "Did she...cheat on him with you?"

Hurt and disbelief was etched on her face, but she still had to ask, expecting a different answer from the truth. However, Harry picked the worst time to finally be honest. He sucked in a breath, nodding his head and finally looking up to meet her eyes.

"We had an affair, but...it was more than that, at least for me. I was in love with her." Harry swallowed hard as he broke their eye-contact. "I couldn't walk away even though we'd tried to call it quit endless of times. She told me she wasn't happy and that she was gonna leave him soon, and I was stupid enough to believe her...until she left me."

Y/N's face fell fast. In that instant her skin became pale, her mouth hung with lips slightly parted and her eyes stretched wide.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She almost choked on her own words, but he wasn't looking at her to see how broken she was. "I told you everything about Blake. I trusted you!"

"You're overreacting," he mumbled and turned away. Immediately, she marched straight towards him and clutched his elbow to force him to look at her.

"What else are you hiding from me, Harry?"

"Are you serious?" He scoffed. "The past is the past. Why are you digging into mine now?"

"Because you can't seem to let it go!" Y/N shook her head fast. "We won't have a healthy relationship if you keep things like this from me."

"But we're not in a relationship, are we?"

Those words which got out on spur of the moment shocked her to the point that she let go of his arm and stumbled two steps back. Harry wasn't even thinking when he blurted out that sentence. He should've stopped there. If only he'd stopped.

"You're not my girlfriend, I don't have to tell you everything. Even if I'd told you, you would've judged me like you do now, just like everyone else!" Harry raised his voice, apparently too out of his mind to even notice the fear in her glistened eyes. "You had one boyfriend and the break up wasn't even that bad. You don't fucking know how awful it feels to give someone everything you’ve got, and still cannot compete with the person who doesn’t love them."

Y/N stared into those green eyes burning with anger. Her heart fell silent.

"Then how do you think I'm feeling right now?"

That question struck Harry like lighting. It was only then that warmth flooded back to his features. Once he saw tears streaming down her pretty face, his entire body went limp and the rapid beating of his heart echoed within his brain. The red mark on her cheek was there to remind him she'd been hurt before, now it was him who caused her more damage. The second lesson that he had never learned, was never to let anger do the talking.

“Blake left me just a week before my mother died, then you came back, you kissed me and left me too...Now put yourself in my shoes, H. Just because your pain was different from mine, it doesn’t mean you had it worse. I hurt too. I was depressed and starved myself for weeks...Is that what you want to hear?”

Trembling and afraid, Harry shook his head fast as he reached for her hands, but she shrugged him off to cover her face and muffle the heartbreaking sobs that were tearing him apart. Although she was standing right there, he couldn't help but feel like she was slipping through his fingers. He quickly clutched her arms, tears shone in his eyes yet she refused to look at him now.

"I’m so sorry...I shouldn’t...I-I don't love her anymore...You have to trust me," he pleaded, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of her face. He watched her shoulders tremble with despair. Finally, she looked up, both pairs of tear-filled eyes staring at one another.

"You don't love me either."

Y/N could see that Harry was taken aback by those words so she gave him a nod to confirm the truth.

"Yes, I knew what I said, Harry. I love you. I thought you just needed more time," she whispered, her brows drew closer together. "But now I know...I can never compete with her."

Harry's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he heard those words. Y/N stood still, arms glued to her sides. She should feel affection when he held her face, not this, not the discomfort of his cold palms against her skin. She wanted to push him away, but she didn't have any energy left to even flinch.

He shook his head fast, pressing their foreheads together. "Bambi, look at me...You're not here to replace her. I don't love her anymore."

When he repeated those words, she almost believed him. Almost. But she couldn't. Not after what he'd said on the phone. Not after what he'd said to her when he lost his temper.

"But that's not what you meant." She exhaled sharply. "She still has a place in your heart."

"She...I...I don't...I just—" He tried to explain, though the words that got out made absolutely no sense.

"Did she leave you right before you came back for my mother's funeral?" She cut him off, not wanting to be fed with more of his meaningless words. She just wanted solid proofs that she wasn't his rebound, yet there he was, looking startled and hesitating before nodding his head to confirm her fear was real.

"Was she the one who called you after we kissed in the treehouse? The reason you were so eager to leave?"

"It's—"

"Yes or no, Harry."

"Y-Yes."

Now both of them were crying in front of one another. Y/N soon forgot about the mark on her cheek. Not a single slap could compare to this pain she must endure from hearing his confessions.

"One last question. And please be honest with me," she spoke with a breathy voice. "Do you love me?"

Silence.

Utter silence.

He could've said no, and it would've felt less insulting than him giving her silence and reluctance instead. She loved him so much that she wanted to justify for his reaction by saying he'd been hurt before and was terrified by the idea of love, that she could understand. But weren't they both the same? She'd been hurt too. She had every single reason to believe love didn't exist until she looked into his eyes. She had fought all that fear within her just to say those words to him, and meant it. If he couldn't fight for her, if he must have a second thought to decide how he should feel about her, then what was she still doing here?

Harry sucked in a breath when Y/N grabbed both of his hands and removed them from her face.

"Don't be like my dad." Her voice became as fragile as glass. "I love you...but if you don't love me back, you have to let me go."

When Y/N said those words, she did hope that he would change his mind. She did wait. But he didn't speak. And when her time for him had run out, she quietly went back to the bedroom. As for Harry, he was rooted to the spot, still trying to get grip on reality.

It didn't take too long until Y/N returned, now dressed in her own clothes and holding her handbag. He was still standing there, waiting for her to leave him instead of saying those words she'd shrugged off all of her pride to say to him. His face was paler than her ever recalled it being, as if his blood was all shrinking away.

In the blink of an eye, the door fell shut. And she was gone.

.

.

.

When Y/N stumbled out on the street, her eyes flooded with tears and the first person she called was Celine. She just needed to talk to someone or else her heart might combust any minute now. She bit her nails while waiting for her best friend to pick up the phone. Though it took a bit longer than usual, she knew Celine would never miss any of her calls.

"Hey, baby! Wow, I was just about to call you. Talk about being soulmates!"

"Cece, I—"

"I hope you're sitting down right now because your girl has an announcement to make!"

Y/N literally held her breath for that one-second pause.

"I'm engaged!"

When Celine screamed the big news into the phone, her best friend from across the ocean was so shocked she couldn't make a sound. She stood like a corpse on the side of the road, tears in her eyes but she was too afraid her heartbreak would ruin her best friend's happy day.

"Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yeah...I'm here."

"Are you crying?"

Y/N faked a laugh. The last thing she wanted was to make this about herself.

"I can't help it. I'm just so happy for you two," she said, trying to sound as cheerful as she could pretend.

"Aww, my love! Gosh, I wish you were here with us." Celine giggled. "Oh, why did you call by the way?"

"I just missed you, that's all." Y/N pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath. "Hey, something just came up, I gotta go now. I'll call you another time, yeah? Then we can spend hours talking about this."

"Oh, we certainly will! Love you, baby."

"Love you too, baby."

When that phone call came to an end, Y/N sank even deeper into depression.

How could it be?

In less than twelve hours, everything had been taken away from her. She had prided herself on being independent and laughed in the faces of the ones who needed the company of another to feel fulfilled. Here she was, completely lost with no one to turn to, not even herself. So she kept on walking, letting her tears fall and her feet lead the way. Maybe when the sun rose in a few hours, everything would be alright.

If only it'd been that easy.

The rain came without warning. It started out with little droplets, and the next second it was a torrential downpour, washing over her skin so strongly that it felt as if she was standing under a giant waterfall. Y/N didn't have an umbrella with her, so the only thing she could do was cover her head with the handbag and attempt to call a taxi on the phone. Due to unfortunate carelessness, the device slipped out of her grip and fell right into the puddle on the pavement, causing Y/N to literally scream out a curse word. There wasn't anyone around to think she was insane anyway.

The phone was dripping in rainwater when she picked it up, thus only magic could get it to work again. This time, instead of risking her life to run home, she dashed to find cover under a roof nearby, just in time two headlights appeared through the thick water curtain.

A car pulled over in front of Y/N. The familiar voice grabbed her attention right before she could recognize the person in the driver seat.

"Get in!" Marcy shouted as she tapped on the window.

This woman would be the last person Y/N wanted to be around at a moment like this, but she was given no other choice. It was either being safe in the car with the crazy person who'd slapped her, or risking standing there and getting swept away by the thunderstorm. Any sane person would've chosen the former in a heartbeat.

Immediately, Y/N got into the passenger seat and heaved a heavy sigh as she slammed the door shut, trying to catch her breath with her head back tossed back and eyes shut. Marcy quickly turned back to grab something from the backseat.

"Here." She wrapped the huge blanket around Y/N's body, stroking both of her arms to keep her warm.

"Why do you have a huge ass blanket in your car?"

"I get cold easily." Marcy rolled her eyes, although she did find it amusing how Y/N was more shocked by the blanket, than the fact that she'd showed up just in time to rescue her from the storm.

"Better?" Asked the blonde as she drove away in the rain, taking a quick glance at her future stepdaughter whose eyes were still shut, too lost in her own head to even hear that one-word question.

"How did you find me?" Y/N asked once she'd calmed down.

"It was pure luck I guess," replied Marcy. "I was driving around the city looking for you, and when it began to rain I was about to give up, then I saw you on the side of the road."

Y/N didn't say anything, instead, she turned her head to the left. Water droplets hit the car window as they drove onwards. She watched those raindrops race down, somehow finding a little bit of peace and calmness in the loud and chaotic storm.

Now that the heavy shower had washed away his scent on her body, she didn't want to go back anymore. She didn't even want to return to her flat where everywhere she looked reminded her of him. Now she had no other place to go but one.

"Are you heading back to Holmes Chapel?" She asked Marcy, who was taken aback by the sudden question.

"Uh...yeah, but I can drop you off—"

"No." She shook her head, staring at the road ahead instead of the woman in the driver seat. "Just keep on driving."

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.

.

Harry completely lost track of time, which seemed to fly faster as he was lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he would've continued sitting there on his sofa and replaying Y/N's words over and over again in his head until he passed out from exhaustion, if the sound of thunder hadn't dragged him back to reality.

His head turned to the glass window when the rain started to pour. All that he could see was a thick curtain of water and the hazy city light hidden underneath it. His heart stopped for a second when he recalled the accident which left Y/N with a sprained ankle. He couldn't show up to help her then, now she was out in the rain because of him.

If something bad happened to her...

Harry quickly rose up as the thought briefly crossed his mind, just in time his phone began to ring. The name Ruby appeared on the screen again, but this time, he didn't even care. It was funny and sad at the same time, how the moment of realization always came a bit too late.

What had he done?

Not until then did it occur to Harry that his Bambi had left him for good. He'd officially lost her.

Now that she was gone, he missed her, he needed her, he worried about her. Now that he knew there was a high chance that he could never get her back, it felt as if he was bleeding internally. The pain couldn't compare to when Ruby left him, no, it was much worse. It tore his chest opened. If something bad happened to her tonight, how could he possibly live with himself?

What had he done?

Harry ran fast to his bedroom to throw on a pair of jeans and the t-shirt she'd left on his bed, which still smelt like her. He returned to the living room and grabbed an umbrella before heading out as fast as possible. He rushed to the street, gasping for air as the raindrops hit his cold skin. Even with an umbrella above his head, Harry couldn't save his clothes from getting soaked just in less than a minute. But it was the least of his concerns now. He turned left, then right, mouth agape, eyebrows knitted together. There was not a single person or car in sight. Where was she? Where was his Bambi?

He dialed her number but he couldn't reach her. She either had him blocked or her phone turned off, whichever it was, he wasn't sure if she was safe, and he couldn't rest knowing she was somewhere out there in this pouring rain, all on her own.

He must go find her now.

What had he done?

.

.

.

It was a long drive back to Holmes Chapel, for no vehicle could go fast in this kind of weather. The more time it took the more uncomfortable it got for the two young women in this car.

Marcy inhaled deeply as she stole another glance at Y/N, who had been so quiet that Marcy felt like it would be a crime if she breathed a bit too loud. She thought it might be for the best if she just kept silent and her eyes on the road. However, it was hard to ignore the mark on Y/N's cheek. Although it looked better now than before, it reminded Marcy of what she'd done. And she'd been tormenting herself over it from the night before.

After a couple seconds of contemplating, she finally spoke up, "About what happened in the store..." She paused to clear her throat. "I-I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Don't bother," Y/N cut her off, speaking in a monotone. The girl couldn't sound any less indifferent, not her usual aggressive and sarcastic tone. That was how Marcy knew it had a lot to do with the big reason behind her wanting to go back to Holmes Chapel. Marcy was just too afraid to ask.

"After all," Y/N went on, this time sounding breathless. "My father was the one who took the ring from my mother, not you."

"But..." Marcy sucked in a deep breath. "But he didn't take the ring back."

This time, Y/N finally turned to look at her, eyes broadened at once. Marcy kept her focus on the road, yet her expression hardened as if what she was about to say was going to be very brutal to the young girl sitting next to her.

"On the night of the accident, before your mother left, she gave it back to him."

"W-What?"

"Your father asked me not to tell you this but...I think you deserve to know the truth." Marcy sighed, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. "Your parents had planned on getting divorced two months prior to Tam's death. I-I had nothing to do with it, I don't even know the reason. It wasn't until after she'd left that Brad and I began to grow feelings for each other. But everyone blames me for their fight, for her accident. I guess that was why I got so fed up with your attitude and—" Marcy blinked fast, shaking her head in guilt. "I'm not trying to justify my action, because I know it was wrong. But I didn't mean to hurt you on purpose."

Y/N didn't expect any of that. Besides the divorce, nothing else seemed to make sense. Why did her mother take off the ring that she loved more than herself? What was it that they were arguing about that night?

She had hoped that Marcy was just lying, yet for someone with such a troubled past, she would be able to tell if someone was spilling out lies. Therefore she was sure Marcy had said exactly what she knew. Now Y/N felt like she knew nothing at all, not even her mother, the one she loved most.

"You should take a nap. I'll wake you up when we're almost home," Marcy said with a smile.

Now that the rain was over, the sky glowed like a summer peach and the sun slowly emerged from the skyline as tall buildings rose out of the darkness. Y/N's heart was at peace once again, knowing she would be home soon.

But as she closed her eyes to get some rest, all that she could see was him.

.

.

.

"Bambi! Please, open the door if you're in there!" Harry knocked more urgently this time as he tried to catch his breath and fight back the tears. His voice was hoarse from pleading for her to let him in. It had been a while, and now he began to think she wasn't there.

The first golden light of the new day snuck through the little window near the ceiling into the hallway, blinding Harry for a second as if to let him know that the sun had come once again. How often we saw the dawn and took it for granted, that when darkness took over we suddenly craved for the light and the life it brought to our world? Same as Y/N. Now that she was gone, he finally realized what he'd lost.

Harry sat down on the floor with his back against her front door, head in his hands. Their last conversation soon came back to haunt him, and so was the look on her face when he let her go. He knew he deserved that. He was unworthy of her love. But now that he'd lost his ray of sunshine, how could he live with this cold?

In just a minute, Harry's eyes dripped with tears as he gazed toward the window above, as if the light could soothe him. His face twisted and his fists clenched so tight he could feel the sweat trapped inside them. He looked like the same distressed little boy who'd lost the stuffed bunny and the girl he loved. It would take more than a black eye and losing his captain armband to win her back this time.

But right now, he just wanted to know if she was safe. He wiped his tears and pulled out his phone, quickly making a call to the only person he knew would be able to help.

"Hello?" Isaac answered after five seconds. His sleepy voice was evident that he was barely awake.

"Mate...did Y/N come to you, or at least contact you?"

"No. What's wrong? Did something happen to her?" Just like him, his best friend sounded overly distraught.

"We had a fight and she ran off in the rain and...I'm right outside her place right now but she's not home yet."

"She didn't answer your calls?"

"No." Harry sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "Maybe if you call her, she'll pick up."

"Alright. I'll text you if I know where she is."

"Thank you. I-I appreciate that."

Isaac hummed as a reply and hung up the phone. Harry sat there with his head tossed back, resting against the door, his eyes on the ceiling. Now he was too stressed to even get on with his day and act like nothing was wrong when everything was. But if he continued to sit there for too long, one of Y/N's neighbors might report him, or even worse, someone could start a false rumor that might damage her reputation. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor to stand up straight, one palm pressed against the wall to keep his balance.

"Hey, you!"

When Harry heard that voice, his head jerked in its direction where he found an old lady walking up the stairs.

"Hi, ma'am," he mumbled, pressing his lips into a small smile as she approached him. But the woman couldn't look more irritated.

"You're dating the girl in that flat, right?"

Harry parted his lips, not knowing how to answer, but he assumed the old woman must be Mrs. Huang, the angry neighbor who kept complaining about him and Y/N having sex a bit too loud. She didn't even need a response from him, and just went straight into the point, handing him the pink notebook which he hadn't noticed that she'd been holding until now.

"She dropped this yesterday. Maybe you can give it back to her."

"Oh...thank you."

Mrs. Huang eyed at the young man from head to toes, making him think she might begin to lecture him on how to not disturb the neighbors. However, what she said to him was this.

"Ever since you came around, I've seen her sing a different song every day when she leaves the building. As annoying as she might be sometimes, that girl seems to be head over heels for you." Then the woman sighed happily, her wrinkles became more visible now that she was smiling at him. "I miss being young and in love with someone. Hold onto it while you still can, alright?"

When Mrs. Huang patted him on the arm and returned to her home, Harry looked down at the pink notebook in his hand. And in a few seconds, all the memories flooded back and the different images of her beautiful smile flashed right through his mind. At that moment, he realized, the goodbye wasn't supposed to be the hardest part, it was the flashbacks that followed right after.

Every single day he'd spent with Ruby had been filled with fear and anxiety, which he'd mistook for passion. But Y/N was his medicine. When he was with her, the pain stopped. She made him feel safe even though their relationship had never been solid, and with her, he could get away from the chaotic of his world to find real peace.

After getting soaked in the rain, his old t-shirt no longer smelt like his Bambi, which meant he had nothing left of her to keep, not even her scent. Now he missed her with a pain in his guts like a fire burning slow.

Had he been brave enough to just face his fear and accept the fact that it was love. It wasn't anything like the love he'd had for Ruby, but it was love. Otherwise, he wouldn't have trembled every time she called his name, his knees wouldn't have gone weak every time he caught her smiling at him, he wouldn't have spent most of the time during a day thinking, fantasizing, daydreaming about her.

If it wasn't love, what else could it be?

In his heart, he retracted all the terrible things he had said to her. He'd learned his lessons the hard way, but not soon enough for the two of them.

.

.

.

"Your sim card is okay, but I'm gonna have to take your phone to the repair store. Meanwhile, you can use my old Blackberry, it still works pretty damn fine."

Y/N pressed her lips into a small smile as she took the phone from her dad, sitting down on the edge of her bed with a blanket wrapped around her now dry and warm body. Bradford stood there for a moment to make sure his daughter didn't need anything else. He was debating with himself whether or not he should ask about why she'd come back. But once he saw the look on her face as she acted busy with the device, he took it as a cue to leave her alone for now.

Once her bedroom door was shut, Y/N finally lifted her eyes as sadness clouded her features at once. She carefully looked around the room. There was a strange melancholy feeling in her heart to be back in her childhood home after two years. Everything looked almost the same as the day she left for college, but it didn't feel the same because she was the one who'd changed.

Through that window, she used to secretly watch Harry return home from school every day. In this bed, he used to hold her as they both fell asleep on nights when her parents were both out of town, and her irresponsible aunt didn't care if there was a boy in her room. On that desk, she'd written countless pages about him, for him, that he might never get to read. She looked around this room and all she could see were their ghosts lurking in every single corner.

After all those years, the boy next door was still so far out of reach. And she was still the same fourteen-year-old pining over her older neighbor who didn't love her in return. That bitter truth made her eyes well up, but she was too old to live in Wonderland anymore. It was time for her to go back.

The new ringtone blasted from the old phone shocked Y/N to the point that she almost tossed her dad's Blackberry across the room. Fortunately, she didn't. She sighed in relief the second the name Isey appeared on the screen. Wiping away her tears, she pressed answer immediately.

"H-Hi..." Y/N exhaled a nervous laugh, hoping he wasn't able to tell what a wreck she was. But he already knew that when he decided to call.

"Smiley, are you okay? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you with someone?"

"I'm fine. What's going on?" Then the answer just appeared in her head on its own. Her smile faded soon as realization sank in. Her voice was soft and careful as she questioned, "what did Harry tell you?"

"That you two got into a fight and you ran off in the storm."

Y/N scoffed, looking down and shaking her head slightly. "It's no big deal really."

"What happened?"

"Well..." She pursed her lips, trying to come up with a white lie good enough to convince him she was okay. "We just had a small disagreement and, yeah, like we always do. It's not that big of a deal."

"I still think you should call him back," Isaac said. She could imagine the frown upon his face. "He was so worried."

"Hmm," she hummed, pressing her lips to form a straight line, not knowing what else to say.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm...in Holmes Chapel."

"What are you doing there?"

Hiding.

"I'm back for my father's wedding in two days." She chuckled nervously, eyes glancing at the spinning fan above her head. "Don't you worry about me."

There was a long pause from Isaac's side when all she could hear was his soft yet heavy breathing. She wished she could tell him what had happened, but neither her heart nor her head agreed it was a good idea to confide in Harry's best friend. So she just sat in silence and waited for him to speak. Eventually, he did.

"If you're sad, just say so."

Y/N nodded in response to those words, yet she soon realized that he couldn't see her so she quietly reassured him that she was fine. Though Isaac could probably tell she only said that so he would stop worrying about her, he was nice enough to not call her out for being a terrible liar.

"Look, I gotta go now..." She said fast, her brows pinched together as her eyes squeezed shut. "Talk to you another time?"

"Alright." He let out a short breath. "Have a great day, Smiley."

"Wait! One more thing!"

"Yeah?" His light chuckle caused her to smile a bit.

"Please don't tell Harry I'm here...I'm gonna talk to him myself when I'm ready."

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Knowing that Isaac always kept his words, Y/N trusted him entirely as she muttered a goodbye and waited for him to hang up first.

She put her phone down, staring at the window where came the new daylight welcoming her back to the small town of Holmes Chapel. The girl smiled sadly as she curled up in a ball on her childhood bed, her eyes fell shut in an instant. The exhaustion caused her body to hang limp like wet laundry on a winter day, now every one of her muscles was giving into gravity.

Taking a deep breath, she could feel the sorrow in her chest waiting to take over, yet the fear didn't seem to exist like many times before. She knew the feeling of losing someone she loved, physically, emotionally, or both; and knowing it probably made it less scary. But what was worse than fear was the emptiness that followed when that someone was gone. She was learning how to deal with it, but slowly.

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

All I Ask

Sam Wilson x Reader

A/N: This was supposed to be posted for 600 followers, but then I hit 700 faster than I ever dreamed!! WOOHOO! In honor of my followers, I decided I was going to rip your hearts out with an angsty fic! Sorry, Loves, but I enjoy your pain LOL

(BTW this is unedited, because I have to hurry up and leave my house!)

Song: All I Ask by Adele

Warnings: Angst, smuttttt??, more angst, etc.

 MASTERLIST

 Your heart hurt.

Your best friend of five years – the one who you could go to for anything, the one who was there any time you were feeling down, the one who you were friends with before he became a big Avenger, the one who came to you if he was in a bad place after his missions…

Your best friend didn’t love you, back.

You didn’t mean to tell him that you loved him, that night. You honestly didn’t. You were just so fed up with your feelings, that it just slipped out. Then, everything else came pouring out like word-vomit.

You didn’t mean to tell him that you had fallen in love with him an entire year before you started sleeping together, or how your feelings strengthened every time he would ring your doorbell. You didn’t mean to tell him that you were in agony every time he went out on a mission with the stupid Avengers, worrying about his safety. You didn’t mean to confess how you hated when he would sleep with you, then flirt with other women the next day. You didn’t mean to confess everything you had bottled up the past 2 years of sleeping together.

When you had finished completely pouring your heart out to him, you watched his face remain stoic as he didn’t say a word. He just turned away, walking out the door. You hadn’t expected him to love you back, but you certainly didn’t expect him to stop talking to you, altogether.

He didn’t even give you an explanation.

I will leave my heart at the door / I won't say a word / They've all been said before, you know…

Three weeks.

He still hadn’t talked to you after three weeks. You only knew what he was up to through the news. Something about a mission gone wrong in Lagos? You tried to text him and as if everyone was okay… No response.

You didn’t think you’d get one anyways.

You’d seen him once, after your confession, at your favorite coffee shop. You hadn’t been paying attention while in line, and had been replying to work emails on your phone when you heard Sam’s infectious laugh come from one of the tables off to the side.

You’d stopped, frozen on the spot with your heart in your throat. The beautiful sound cut even deeper into the hole in your heart, and you could feel the heartbreak all over again when you realized that you were the only one suffering. You were the only one who was broken up about not seeing your best friend, anymore. You were the only one who missed being able to talk to each other about anything and everything.

You were the problem.

Steve had spotted you, first, bumping Sam and nodding in your direction. You heard him ask why he hadn’t seen you around, lately.

The moment you locked eyes with his dark, chocolate eyes…

…You turned and sped out of the shop.

You’d be damned if he got to see you cry.

So why don't we just play pretend / Like we're not scared of what's coming next / Or scared of having nothing left…

Ding!

Was that your doorbell?

You looked at the clock on your stove. It was 11:30 at night… who the hell was at your door at this time of night? You were in your pajamas, for fuckssake.

You set your pen down – having been doing your paperwork for your job as an assistant – and grabbed your baseball bat from the wall by the table. A single girl in the city can’t be too careful. You slowly made your way through the living room, and to the front door of your apartment – peeking through the peep hole.

Sam?

You set your bat down behind the door, unlocking it and throwing it open in shock. “Sam? What are you doing here?” Don’t cry, don’t cry…

“I needed to talk to you.” He stared at his feet, hands in his pockets of his jacket, “Can I come in?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you moved aside, letting him through and shutting the door quickly. Your stomach dropped in anxiety, but you ushered him over to your couch – sitting on the opposite side, as far from him as you could. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you, again.” You looked down at your hands, wishing you could crawl in a hole and die – instead of hearing him confirm that he didn’t love you like you loved him.

His frowning face dropped in shame, “I’m sorry…”

You pulled your legs up to your chest, picking your nails in anxiety, “Even though I meant everything I said, I’m sorry I kind of laid it all on you at once. I just couldn’t take it, anymore.”

He sighed, shaking his head, “I can’t be in a relationship. Especially, now.”

You frowned, “What do you mean, ‘especially now’?” You sat up a little more, noticing the tension coming from him in waves, “What’s going on?”

“I’m about to become a criminal.” He looked up, dark eyes meeting yours, “I’m not signing the Sokovian Accords. I can’t.”

I don't need your honesty / It's already in your eyes / And I'm sure my eyes, they speak for me / No one knows me like you do / And since you're the only one that matters / Tell me who do I run to?

He told you everything.

He told you about how the mission went in Lagos, Rumlow’s appearance and death, the disagreement between the Avengers, the kid that had died in Sokovia, and how he was going to Peggy Carter’s funeral with Steve in the morning.

You didn’t know how to process this. You were scared for him. Sam was about to become a criminal, for doing what he thought was right. He was never going to have a normal life, again. “So, why come to me? What brought you here? I didn’t think you wanted to see me, anymore, after you left.”

He swallowed, thickly, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling, “I didn’t know who else to talk to. You’re my best friend, and I miss you. You’re the only one who tells me shit like it is.” He ran his hands over his short hair in frustration, “I just needed something normal, before my life literally goes to shit. I could go to prison, Y/n.”

You rubbed your temples for a moment, pushing down your feelings, “Alright. I’m sorry. I miss you, too. We can be normal.” You scooted closer to him, feeling his familiar warmth, and smelling his cologne that you’d gotten him for his birthday a few months prior. “I recorded Game of Thrones. Want to watch? I have beer in the fridge.”

He sagged in relief, nodding.

You stood from the couch, walking into the kitchen to grab the beer that you hadn’t touched since he left that night. It was his favorite brand, and you’d always made sure to have it handy. You were more of a wine person, but you didn’t mind drinking beer every once in a while.

You mostly liked the taste of beer when it was on his lips…

Shut the fuck up, Y/n.

You grabbed the 12 pack, and a bag of Cheetos – taking a steadying breath and walking into the living room with a smile. “Beer and snacks.”

He smiled that toothy smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, even though the smile didn’t make his eyes shine like they usually did, “I pulled up the episode.” He popped open two beers – handing you one, and chugging almost half of his. He pulled you into his warm side, cuddling on the couch like you always did.

You took a deep breath, leaning your head against his shoulder and pulling your legs up. You could be normal. You should really talk about how this is going to affect your friendship… He could go to prison. He won’t be able to talk to you, anymore. “Hey, Sam? So… If you’re, uh, going to become a criminal… Are we going to have to end our friendship?”

He sighed in annoyance, “I thought we were going to be normal, tonight?”

You scoffed, getting up and pausing the show, “I’m sorry if I can’t be ‘normal’ when you come to my house to tell me that you’re going to become a criminal and this is probably the last night we’re ever going to be together!” You start pacing around your living room, “I, also, can’t be ‘normal’ when I lay my heart out, just for you to fucking stomp all over it!” You turn to him, tears in your eyes, “What the fuck, Sam? Even if you don’t feel the same way, at least have the fucking decency to fucking tell me, instead of ghosting me! I thought we were best friends?”

“Who said I don’t feel the same way?”

“Five years of friendship, and you fucking ghost me when shit gets hard! I deserve better than-” You paused, frozen on the spot. “Wait, what?”

He stood up, crossing his arms in that ‘serious stance’ of his. The one that made his thighs look even better than usual. “Who said that I don’t feel the same way?”

You stared at him, eyes searching for any sort of lie. “B-but… Then, why did you ignore me? Why did you leave?”

His shoulders sag, and his arms fall to his sides. He looked defeated, “Because I knew that if I let you in, like that, something would happen to tear us apart.” He looked up at the ceiling, and you could see him swallow, from the bob of his adam’s apple. “Look where we are, now. I have to say goodbye to you, and I don’t know how. I don’t want to leave you, but I have to. I can’t drag you down with me.” His dark, shining eyes meet yours. “I love you.”

A sob makes its way to your throat, and you cover your mouth with your hand. A tear escapes from your eye, leaving a hot trail down your cold cheek. “Y-you do?”

He lets out a breath, taking a step forward and wrapping you in his arms, burying his face into your hair. “I do. I love you.” He inhales your scent, tightening his arms around you as you lay your forehead against his collarbones, “That doesn’t change anything, though.”

You pulled back a little, looking up at his heartbroken face with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“I still have to leave in the morning.”

Look, don't get me wrong / I know there is no tomorrow / All I ask is / If this is my last night with you / Hold me like I'm more than just a friend…

You shook your head, denial running through you. “I don’t care. I love you. Just let me have tonight. Tonight’s all I ask.” You move your arms, circling them around his neck and standing on your tip toes. You pressed a small kiss to his stubble covered jaw, next to his goatee, moving down to his smooth neck.

“Y/n.” He sighs, half in pleasure, half in hesitation. “Are you sure we should b-be doing this? I didn’t come here for this.” His head moved to the side as you sucked on the sweet spot below his ear, hands moving to your hips, “I s-still have to leave no matter what.”

You removed your lips, pressing your forehead against his neck, “If this is my last night with you, let’s make it a good one.” You pulled back a little, staring at his lips. “I love you, Sam.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a breathtaking kiss. You felt your heart warm, starting to race as you tightened your arms around his neck. His hands tightened, picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling yourself as close as you could, elbows resting on his broad shoulders.

His tongue swiped your lower lip, gently seeking entrance. You granted him access, tongues fighting for dominance as he carried you towards your bedroom – knowing how to get there with his eyes closed.

He stopped for a moment, pushing you against the wall in your hallway, breaking from the kiss to breathe. He moved his lips to your neck, sucking a mark into the spot that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hips pinned you to the wall as he grabbed the hem of your tank top, pulling it over your head and tossing it behind him – leaving you in your pajama shorts. Your back arched into him, bare breasts pressed against his solid form, and he moved to the other side of your neck – marking you there, too. You tried to grab his tee shirt, but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the wall behind you, roughly. He ground his hips into yours, sending a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You breathed out a small moan, digging your feet into the backs of his thighs, trying to gain more friction.

When he finished his assault on your neck, his hot mouth started a descent toward your collarbones, leaving a small cold spot in its wake – leaving you breathless. Your moans grew louder in volume as he continued lower – sucking a mark on the mound of your left breast.

“S-sam.” A wanton moan escaped your swollen lips. A surge of heat shot straight to your clit as his lips closed around your hardened nipple, and you strained against his hands – still pinning your wrists to the wall. “B-bed.”

With one last nip, his hands released your wrists – gripping your ass. He gave your flesh a playful squeeze, making you jump and chuckle as he continued walking toward your room. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his pulse-point, feeling the fast thumping – excitement running through you. You gave him a little nip, causing his hands to tighten, and soothed the bite with a kiss.

Suddenly, you were falling backwards. You bounced a little as your back hit the mattress, and leaned up on your elbows to watch Sam remove his shirt. You bit your lip in anticipation watched as his smooth, dark skin moved over his hard muscles. You could see the rise and fall of his chest as he stared down at you, licking his lips like you were a snack to be devoured.

You sat up, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his jeans and pulling him closer. Unhooking his belt, you stared at the bulge in his jeans – feeling your teeth redden your lip further as you imagined the feel of him inside you.

Yanking his pants and boxers down in one go, you were immediately faced with his hardened member. Leaning forward, slowly, you pressed your lips against the tip, tasting the salt of the pre-cum leaking from it. You gripped him with one hand, the other gripping his hip. You swirled your tongue around the tip once, opening up your jaw and taking him in as far as you could take him.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He moaned out, hands burying themselves in your hair. You committed the taste and feel of him to memory, not wanting this to end, but he had other ideas.

He pulled you back after a few minutes, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to your lips, before pushing you back down onto the mattress. He moved his lips down to your neck, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pajama shorts and panties – slowly removing them. The lower your shorts got, the lower his mouth got, and you arched against him.

When he was kneeling at the edge of the bed, pulling your shorts and panties from your ankles, he suddenly gripped your calves – yanking you towards the edge of the bed. You yelped, a giggle following quickly after. His hands moved your legs to his shoulders, and his lips pressed against your inner thighs, sending a pulse against your core.

“You taste so good.” He whispered against your thigh, full lips sucking a small mark. “I know where you taste even better.”

His eyes had that devilish gleam in them as he continued on his torturous path towards your core. You were practically panting, hands gripping the sheets.

Suddenly, his mouth made contact, sucking right on your bundle of nerves. You gasped, loudly, a moan following quickly as he set a torturous pace. He spread your legs further, pinning them against the bed as his tongue licked a thick, hot stripe up your slit.

Your hands were about to rip your sheets, and you felt the rubber band in your stomach tighten – getting thinner and thinner, as his hot, wet mouth worked over your core. Your breathing became erratic, your moans louder, and your head was becoming foggy. You moaned his name like a prayer.

When the rubber band in your stomach snapped, you came – hard. The pulsing of your walls caused a rush from your head to your toes, and you felt your breath get stuck in your throat. You strained against his hands as he continued to work on you while the throbbing between your legs was so intense that you saw stars.

As you started to come down, body still hot from your high, he moved from his position, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and standing up.

He smirked when he looked down at your spent state, “Are you sure you can handle round two?”

“Shut up and fuck me, Wilson.” You panted, smiling as you scooted further on the bed.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He crawled over you, lips finding yours quickly. You kissed him with as much emotion as you could, trying to show him the feelings that you had bottled up in the passing years. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you could as he held himself above you. You moaned into the kiss as you felt the tip of him brush against your sensitive clit, him lubing himself up with your juices.

“You ready?” His breath washed over your face, the tip of him pressed against your entrance.

You wrapped your legs around his lower half, using the heels of your ankles to push his hips. He slowly moved forward, groaning at the feel of your walls sheathing his heaving member.

Once he started moving, his pace was relentless. The sounds in the room were completely X rated – the sound of skin slapping against skin, the mattress squeaking, and the sounds of both of you panting. He tried to kiss you, but you were both just too far gone into the whirlwind of pleasure you had created. Your nails scratched against his back as he brushed against a particular spot, and you cried out. His hands were everywhere. He was like a drug, making you feel nothing but the particular high he gave you.

You felt that rubber band tighten, again, building more intensity than the first time around.

“I-I’m close.” You mewled, hands tightening against the slick skin of his back.

“Me, too.” He grunted, pace starting to pick up in speed.

You dug your heels into the backs of his muscular thighs, feeling the buzzing of pleasure in your body become faster and faster. After one particular stroke that brushed against your sensitive spot, you were gone. You couldn’t feel anything other than the pleasure. Your walls were clamping down around him, and you heard a long moan as his thrusts became sporadic.

The throbbing in your core was all you could focus on, and your breathing turned to gasping.

You felt the rush of both your liquids as you started to come down from your high. Sam’s forehead was pressed against yours, and he pressed a small kiss against your lips as he pulled himself out of you. You gasped as he did, entire lower half still extremely sensitive.

You felt him smirk against your lips, and he pulled back a little. “That was amazing.”

You had to agree there. You were pretty sure that was the hardest you’d ever came.

He rolled off of you, lying on his back and pulling you into his chest. You wanted to stay like that, forever. Post orgasm bliss with the man that you would love for the rest of your life.

The one that you wanted your forever with.

Give me a memory I can use / Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do / It matters how this ends…

You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep.

You groaned as you stretched, rubbing your eyes. This was going to be a rough morning. You could already feel the soreness in your muscles and the stretched-out feeling between your legs. You smiled as you remembered the events of the previous night, rolling over to face Sam.

You frowned when you felt the cold sheets.

Maybe he’s up, already. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye…

Would he?

You sat up, looking around the room. The light was just starting to come in through the curtains, bathing your room in an early morning glow. You didn’t see Sam’s clothes on the floor, but yours were still lying there.

You threw yourself out of bed, pulling on your robe and running out into the living room. Your heart was pounding in fear. Fear that he was gone, fear that you were never going to see him again… fear that last night might have been a mistake.

You didn’t see his shoes or his jacket near the door.

He was gone.

You sunk down to the floor, tears streaming down your face as you felt your heart start to crack. You felt every single fissure. Your breathing became impossible as the sobs started. You couldn’t hold them back. He was gone. You were never going to see him, again. He was probably going to prison.

You curled into yourself on the floor, tears falling from your face and splattering on the floor. You clutched your chest like it would hold the pieces of your breaking heart together – only a band-aid fix on your overflowing emotions.

You paused as your eye caught something on the coffee table.

A note with your name written on it. In Sam’s writing.

You crawled over to your table, not having the energy to stand, and ignoring the soreness in your muscles that no longer made you feel happy – you felt dirty.

You snatched the note from the smooth surface, hands shaking as you hurriedly unfolded the note.

I love you, too. I’m sorry.

Your heart broke.

...Cause what if I never love, again?

TAGS: (Forever tags are still open!)

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[captain-erwinmerica]

Money shot is above amazing but can you pleeeeeeeaaasssseeee tell us a little bit about your Mafia yuuri and victor's first meeting in details? I would die to read about that....l know you've mentioned it before.. But like how was it when they first looked at each other 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍... BTW YOU'RE WONDERFUL

If you told Katsuki Yuuri 5 and a half years ago that one day he would fight on the same side as Victor Nikiforov, pair up with him and turn the underworld on its head in a bloody escape for survival: then he might have actually laughed in your face and shot you there on the spot, because if you were that stupid then you weren’t worth the air you needed to breathe.

Who would have thought meeting Victor all those years ago in Detroit would lead to this perfect state of chaos?

He was 19 years old at the time, and Yuuri remembered thinking he was probably going to die that night, he remembered thinking that he would have been okay with it, too. It’s not like there’d been all too much too live for - back then. He’d been sent to America with his skin still itching with the last patch of his back filled with colour. It’d been a minor job: meet an arms dealer or two, procure weapons and units of ammunition for the prices only Yuuri was capable of negotiating, transport them home and then the deal was done until the next task was handed to him.

It was the night that he was due to go back to Hasestu that they met. He’d gone to an inconspicuous bar where the bartender thought he was older than he was, and he’d ordered himself a drink before doing the same thing he always did. Deciphering those around him was always a satisfying way to pass the abundant amount of time he had on nights like the one he’d met Victor.

He’d picked apart everyone he could see in his direct field of vision. The couple having an affair who were too paranoid to enjoy their drinks, the flustered school teacher who needed a cigarette and something strong to unravel from a day that’d nearly pushed him over the edge, the group of businessmen with passable suits who were celebrating a deal they’d made on the right side of the law.

He’d swivelled around on his bar stool then, and he remembered the instant he saw Victor Nikiforov’s solitary frame sitting at a table across the shadow filled room that was fast becoming too small -stifling -because seeing that poised back sitting there hit Yuuri like a sledgehammer to the chest.

He remembered thinking how impossible it was to tear his eyes away, how the slope of those shoulders and the taper of his suit was even better in real life compared to the surveillance photos his family collected. Yuuri remembered thinking that if he didn’t already know who that impeccable suit and silver hair belonged to then Victor would just be another face in the room, hiding beneath a beautiful, perfectly crafted mask just as Yuuri did when he came to these places to blend in with the silence that never passed judgement.

And Victor - attentive as he was and always would be - had turned with the feel of Yuuri’s gaze on his back and he’d smiled this devastating, all knowing smile. In that moment, in that bar with the same single drink and the same blend of isolation: they were more alike than they would ever be different.

He remembered how his heart responded with a mind of its own as the colour of those electric blue eyes found him, he remembered how it raced as Victor got up from his chair, all long limbed and graceful as he walked over with all eyes on him because he was the most drop dead gorgeous thing in the room. Victor had sat next to Yuuri with a sigh like he’d just come home from a long day at the office, and then he’d ordered them both a drink like he’d been planning to meet Yuuri here all along.

“You know, I can pick apart everyone in this room, and then there’s you, who could fool anyone but me.” And Victor said it offhandedly as he took his drink from the bartender, like he was talking about the weather or the current state of the stock market, like he was talking about something insignificant, something he didn’t even care about. Not like he was talking about the fact that underneath Yuuri’s suit, under his mask, under the colours on his very skin: was blood worthy to be called underworld royalty. At that Yuuri couldn’t even fucking breathe, his heart trapped in shock somewhere between his lungs and his throat.

“Relax.” Victor had chuckled then, and Yuuri recalled the warmth that’d washed over him in that welcoming sound, the sense of relief that he wasn’t going to die after all, because that was the moment his puzzle had completed itself all on its own. And life had never been the same since.

“We’re just two nameless faces sharing a drink, right?” came Victor’s next prompt, and he gave Yuuri this cheeky wink because he did indeed know everything. Of course someone like Victor would have all the intel. Surprises were usually bad for someone like Yuuri, and yet he’d never been more pleased to be surprised in his life instead.

“Right.” Yuuri had agreed with a laugh of his own, and he’d filled himself up on liquid courage as they passed the time. Yuuri slowly but surely brought himself across the line he’d always wanted to cross, because in every photo of all the reports his family received, no matter how many people Victor was surrounded with, from the company of one to an entire retinue of men: he was always so unmistakably alone.

He would never forget the look of wide eyed astonishment on Victor’s face as they were about to part in the dark street in front of the bar after hours of small talk, because he’d reached out and taken Victor fucking Nikiforov’s hand, pulled him in to exchange whiskey scented breath under a dim streetlight with the hiss of tyres as late night taxis sped passed, and he’d asked to see Victor like this again.

Yuuri remembered how it was Victor who took his other hand then, the grip tight and trembling, he remembered how Victor’s surprise turned to heartbreak and anguish as he screwed his eyes shut to keep that mask from showing all that was stowed beneath, because it was so hard and unfair to believe that loneliness was banished with just a few words like that. So abysmal to think that Yuuri of all people had been the first person to offer to meet him as another human face. Victor was destined to stand on top of the world, and so he’d already been isolated by his own potential for dominance.

He remembered how Victor first leant in and bumped their foreheads together with a gentleness someone like him shouldn’t be capable of. He remembered his eyelashes that were thick and long and far prettier than they had any legal right to be, he remembered the musk of his cologne and the rise and fall of his chest as Victor opened his eyes to look at him with that fire that Yuuri knew would never go out. He’d spoken to Yuuri with fervour and passion, with rapid breaths of need and want, with everything except the hate he should feel. “Are you really asking me this?” And the charged silence in the quiet street told them both what ’this’ was.

“Y-yeah…” and Yuuri had been scared sober then, not for his life, but scared of rejection, scared of not having this again, scared of playing the fool because what he was asking was rightfully insane, it made more sense for Victor to kill him than to say yes.

But Victor had just sighed once more as his mask fell away, as he’d pulled Yuuri even closer still, closer so there was nothing between them at all, no divides, no rules, no secrets, no lines that they definitely shouldn’t cross. “You know what you’re getting into with me?” Victor questioned him again, a gentle whisper.

And Yuuri had been too startled, too speechless to answer, because it was clear to the both of them what Victor wanted him to say. Underneath that mask was this dreadful mix of desperation and power, like Victor could take it all anyway, but he wanted Yuuri to give it to him instead, because it turned out Yuuri was the only person that understood, the only person that could.

“There’s no going back for either of us if we meet again.” The words had ghosted across his lips, they’d run down his spine in shivers and goosebumps, and the excitement of it all had answered for him.

“I know, Victor.” That was the first time he’d said Victor’s name to his face, the first time Victor’s name became a secret on his tongue, the first time he’d wanted to keep something for himself and never let go.

It was the first time he thought that if you told Katsuki Yuuri that in 5 years from now he’d be on the same side as Victor Nikiforov, that he might have actually believed you instead. That was because Victor laughed again, carefree, ambitious and charming all in one, he’d closed the distance and pulled their bodies flush, and he’d looked at Yuuri like he’d been waiting for that moment, like it was everything he could have hoped for.

“It’s a date then, Yuuri.”

And as they’d stood there breathing the same heated air with the world nonexistent at their backs: it was the very first time that Yuuri heard Victor hum the song he was currently humming now, its deep melody tolling in his chest like the sad ode it was, and it would never fail to strike him as breathtakingly sombre, this tune of Victor’s soul.

[himbowelsh]

I'm reading everything on your blogg right now and I just had to make this prompt..! Weigott and Soulmate au! I just imagine Lieb being all 'what? really? Him?!' and Web hurt and angry that his soulmate seem to be an asshole. These two..! Oh btw, i really really enjoy your blog and i LOVE all your stories and everything you make. Btw, I blame you for making me ship liplux too.

He's never cared about soulmates.Everyone knows how it works, of course. One person's feeling is the other’s, their senses are linked, their pains are shared. It is like a telephone line, an electric connection linking one soul to another. These are the things schoolchildren are taught in their classrooms; the traditions that parents fight to engrave into your heads before you're old enough, smart enough to question it. Not often does Joe find himself grateful for a childhood of crappy public schools, but the one thing he does appreciate is that they never pushed the soulmate thing as much as they could have.Thanks to that, he was able to draw his own conclusions. His opinion is this: soulmates are fucking stupid.

The amount of times he's hit on someone only to be rebuffed because he wasn't "the one" leaves him wondering if it would be easier just to punch holes in walls and hope his soulmate can feel that. Joe's hopes of getting a date ride on whether or not when he pinches himself the other person feels it. That's not romantic, that isn't fate; that's depressing.Everyone is supposed to have their own soulmate, and Joe knows he has one too. He’s felt a chill inside of a heated room before; he’s heard strains of ghost music; when he was twelve, he was rushed to the hospital in agony only to be diagnosed with an infection in an appendix that didn’t belong to him. The only thing his soulmate has ever been to Joe is a pain in the ass.

He’s tired of his life being dominated by this stupid soulmate thing. Joe is more than ready to find the bastard already, because he already has a feeling he’s going to hate him.

The idea of soulmates isn’t just a concept -- it’s shaped their society, for better or for worse. Fascinated as he is by the romanticism of it all, David also finds that fascinating.

He’s read so much about soulmates over the years that he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have a clear image in his head of what his person is going to be like. They’ll be a man, of course (David figured that out sometime around eighth grade); they’ll be intelligent, passionate, loyal, and caring. A handsome face wouldn’t hurt either, though David isn’t superficial like that.

It’s so easy to get swept up in the romanticism of it all, but David is determined to keep his wits about him. When he meets his soulmate, he wants to be ready. He wants to make a good impression. Whoever this man is, with his taste for cheap beer and tendency to knick himself shaving in the morning, David doesn’t want to think of him as an idea. He wants to know everything about him.

He’s prepared to fall in love with his soulmate. He’s ready; he’s excited. 

There’s a part of him that’s sure he’s in love with him already.

David sticks his hand under the faucet, not realizing that the water is scalding until it’s too late. He jerks back with a hiss, feeling pain explode throughout his fingers.

The last thing he expects is to hear the man at the urinal behind him yelp as well.

When he spins around, he’s face with the man who entered the bathroom not a moment after him. He hadn’t so much as glanced at David the entire time he was in here, and David had done his best to give him space as well, but now it’s impossible to ignore him. The man is shaking out his hand as if he’s just been stung, his (very handsome) face twisted up in a grimace.

“Jesus fuck,” he groans. It takes David a second to realize that the man is clutching the same hand and same fingers that he scalded seconds ago.

Slowly, realization dawns on him, and he feels his pulse begin to race. His eyes widen as he takes in the stranger. “Wait... you felt that?”

“Fuck yeah, I felt it!” snaps the man, shooting a glare so fierce that something in David’s stomach curdles. “Jesus christ, can’t you tell the difference between hot and cold?”

His heart sinks to his toes. The tiny flame of hope that suddenly illuminated his chest with warmth sputters and dies. This can’t be him. The scowling, swearing man in front of him can’t be the man... can he?

David was always sure that when he met his soulmate he would know. There would be an instinctual connection -- some spark, a firework bursting in his chest, a sudden rush of euphoria to tell him that this is the one. He feels none of that. The man in front of him is rude, coarse, a little drunk, and... oh yeah, he forgot to pull his fly up. 

There’s no way that this is his soulmate.

Slowly, David brings two fingers up to the side of his jaw and pinches, hard. The man slaps a hand to his neck as if he’s just been stung.

“Son of a bitch!”

Oh, David thinks, swallowing something bitter. That settles it, then.

He watches the realization dawn across the man’s face. His hands go still at his sides; his jaw falls open, and suddenly a gaze intense as fire is locked on David like a vice. He feels his soulmate digging into him, picking him apart piece by piece. Shock turns into disgust as the man’s lips curl in a sneer.

“Really? You? My soulmate is some pretty boy wearing a Harvard pin?” The derision drips from his words, burning as they fall onto David’s skin. “That’s real fuckin’ great. Sorry, guy, but I don’t want anything to do with this. Take your soulmate shit somewhere else.”

Without another word, the man storms past David and out of the bathroom.

David is left staring after him, a storm of fury and horror raging inside his mind. After twenty-five years of hoping, wishing, waiting, dreaming, he finally met his soulmate... only to be rebuffed? Because his soulmate is an utter asshole?

It’s not fair. It’s just his luck.

Like hell is he going to let that stand. He doesn’t know who his soulmate thinks he is, but if he wants to just storm out of his life without a second glance back at him, he’s got another thing coming. David believes in fate; he believes in soulmates; and he believes in his, dammit.

He’s going to find his soulmate again, and he’s either going to fall in love with him or strangle him.

[obsoleet]

today, i am thinking abt some of yuri’s poems, and feeling soft abt ‘em, so!–

GHOST UNDER THE LIGHT PT. 2

the tendrils of my hair illuminate beneath the amber glow. bathing. in the distance, a blue-green light flickers. a lone figure crosses its path– a silhouette obstructing the eerie glow. my heart pounds. the silhouette grows. closer, closer, i open my umbrella, casting a shadow to shield me from visibility. but i am too late. he steps into the streetlight. i gasp and drop my umbrella. the light flickers. my heart pounds. he raises his arm. time stops. the only indication of movement is the amber light flicker -ing against his outstretched arm. the flickering light is in rhythm with the pounding of my heart. teasing me for succumbing to this forbidd -en emotion. have you ever heard of a ghost feeling warmth before? giving up on understanding, i laugh. understanding is overrated. i touch his hand. the flickering stops. ghosts are blue-green, my heart is amber.