#I hope it's not TOO obvious where this is going

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | TEMPER

sum. : remus is usually a grump, as dismal as a cloudy day and you're his sunshine, whether he accepts it or not -- he denies it vehemently until his sensitive nerves make him lash out the day of a full moon

length : 2.2k

tags. : grumpy remus ; sunshine reader ; opposites attract ; angst with a happy ending ; remus is a meanie ; reader is stubborn ; a little ooc remus lupin ; fluff ; angst

navi. | more remus lupin

Remus thinks you’re strange. He didn’t know of you until you made yourself known to him, wearing the brightest smile he had ever seen on a person. It was like the sun breaking through a stubborn wall of clouds on an otherwise dismal day. He wasn’t usually the extroverted type, especially with Sirius, James and Peter as his best mates so he was surprised that someone like him managed to catch your eye.  

He was perfectly fine with being a silent presence in his close group of friends, appreciating them for their companionship despite knowing of his ‘furry little problem’. He hardly interacted with others outside his small group and preferred it that way. So when you suddenly appeared before him, he didn’t know what to do with you. 

You had a horrible preference for appearing whenever he was reading in the library – something he enjoyed for academic and recreational purposes. James, Sirius and Peter never understood his fondness for reading so left him alone whenever he simply wanted to read. He was more than comfortable with having only himself for company until you started sitting with him. That was how you first got to know each other or, rather, how you made him your ‘friend’ but not by choice. 

“What are you reading there?” your chirpy voice cuts through the silence that first day. Hoping you weren’t talking to him, Remus ignored you and, instead, brought his book closer to shield his face. “Hello?~” you sang softly after a beat of silence and he could hear the smile in your words. Finally, Remus looks up but only spares you a brief once-over. He was being rude, yes, but so were you for interrupting his reading. Remus also couldn’t stand seeing your bright and sunny gaze for longer than he’d be willing to stare directly at the sun. He’s half convinced he’d burn himself if he looked at you too long.

“Frankenstein,” he answers quietly, hoping you’d leave soon enough… but that was wishful thinking on his part. 

“Oh! A muggle book? That’s pretty cool.” there’s a pause after Remus gives an acknowledging grunt but nothing more. Please go away!  He remembers pleading to himself as he tried to find where he last left off – you were too distracting, “May I sit with you?” Remus goes to give you a judging look but you’re already sitting in the seat across from him when he looks up. He glares at your happy disposition, unaffected by his obvious disapproval, much to his irritation. His annoyance flares sharply as he emits a low growl from deep within his chest but there’s no response from you. You’re as immovable as a mountain. He has no choice but to accept his fate and does his best to ignore you in favour of reading. 

However, in doing so, he had deeply underestimated how determined you were to disturb his peace. 

From his periphery, he sees you pausing in your own reading to stare blatantly at him from across the table. Your first few attempts were, somewhat, sneaky but, over time, you eventually gave in to an obnoxious stare. Remus felt like he couldn’t turn a single page without you eyeing his long fingers. Your eyes peek out from over your book and Remus has to fight himself to keep from getting lost in your curious, twinkling eyes. 

“What do you want?” he snaps agitated and suppressing the horrible urge to grind his teeth menacingly at you. A disguised effort to resist your infuriating charms. Someone this annoyingly persistent shouldn’t be so adorable. 

“Sorry, I umm…. I just wanted to know what your Frankenstein book was about…”

You were polite and sweet with the decency to appear, somewhat, ashamed of your behaviour —it was very cute— but that only seemed to rile Remus up even more, “Read it yourself.” he snaps again and continues reading. 

He doesn’t feel bad for snapping at you, which is why he avoids your gaze entirely. In his efforts, he manages to make more progress with reading and doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until the ache in his neck makes him look up and see you asleep atop the table. Rolling his eyes, Remus packs his things and leaves you to return to Gryffindor Tower — he’s not a babysitter so he shouldn’t feel guilty and he shouldn’t look back. But he does alert the librarian about your presence so that she gets you up instead. 

Remus doesn’t see you until a few days later when you happen upon him in the library and disturb his peace once again. When he looks up this time, however, his eyes manage to linger on your smile before you direct his attention to a copy of Frankenstein in your hand. It makes him raise a brown in silent question. 

“I got the book to read as you suggested,” you ramble on more than is necessary. At least your voice isn’t super annoying, it’s actually quite nice to listen to, “I haven’t read much yet but it’s really good so far. It’s not like anything I’ve ever read before. You have a really good taste in books,” by this point, Remus has already buried his attention back into the pages of his current book and tries to zone you out with only minimal success, “May I sit with you?” that question immediately catches his attention and he almost snaps his neck in half, looking up to firmly reject your attempts. 

“No–!” but he was too late as you were already sitting down and smiling innocently from your seat across the table. He frowns deeply and sighs loudly, making his annoyance obvious but you’re unbothered and already have your book open. His eyes narrow, perplexed at how someone can act so brazenly. He notices the stray hair that falls out of place, the slight crookedness of your collar, the focus in your eyes, the softness of your skin and the gentle curve of your face�� You’re so annoying! “What edition do you have?” he suddenly asks, his voice rough and disinterested as if he couldn’t care less whether you answered him or not. He wasn’t interested at all; he just needed to desperately put an end to his earlier train of thought. Hopefully, your response would irk him again and he could return to being rightfully irritated by you. 

“Oh um…” you flick to the very first page of the book, “I have the 1818 edition, why?” you’re smiling sweetly and he scoffs, turning his head away. His ears had become a bright pink beneath his hair. 

“No reason…” The two of you return to reading your individual books while Remus hopes you don’t register the subconscious hum of approval he let out. He’s only happy you’re reading the original, unrevised version. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The two of you have become an unusual pair that is often seen around Hogwarts. Many have criticised you for always trailing behind the tall Gryffindor, and despite his cold, impartial disposition towards you, Remus is the first to put an end to such ‘annoying’ talk. 

“Stop talking about things you hardly know anything about,” he would often use his tall height to glare down at those same, clueless people, demeaning them further. And, although that should have been the end of it, many persisted to the point where James, Sirius, and Peter also stepped in when neither of you were around to defend your unusual pairing. 

“Thank you, Remus,” you would chirp at him but receive no response in return. It was odd that, despite his cold shoulder, you persisted. Always wanting to be his friend, always smiling so easily, always greeting him with a friendly tone. It didn’t make sense to him. 

Deep down, Remus wants to keep you. He thinks you are adorable; you are a shining light to a monster like him, and he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Whenever you stand particularly close to him, he savours the warmth you radiate. And whenever you talk, no matter if it is nonsense, he always listens, even if he pretends to ignore you by doing something else entirely. He keeps you at a distance but also wants you close at the same time – he was confusing even himself! 

He was grateful for your consistency, however. Grateful until the week of the full moon. 

You are consistent, and that was something Remus always appreciated about you. But it has become Remus’ main point of irritation for the past few days. Everywhere he looked, you were there, smiling brightly as always, but his sensitive nerves have grown intolerant of you; as soon as he sees you approach, he turns away and hurriedly escapes your company. It scares him to feel so genuinely irritated by you that he doesn’t dare lash out. In the beginning of his friendship with the Marauders, he had lashed out at them too, but their determination for a close bond kept them together. He knows how persistent you can be, but losing you is a thought that makes his blood run cold and leaves an awful taste in his mouth, worse than any potion. 

True to your character, however, you manage to corner him after three days of avoidance, the day the full moon would finally appear in the night sky. It was only a matter of time, but why today of all days? 

“You have the worst timing…” Remus mutters to himself as you innocently tilt your head in question. Usually, as perceptive as he is, Remus would have answered your silent question by now, but he remains silent. The still pause stretches on between you, and Remus uses it as the perfect opportunity to turn away and begin walking off. However, you are adamant about not letting him leave and hug his arm to anchor him down — this is the closest the two of you have ever been. Although Remus never raised a hand at you, his violent flinch to escape your touch makes your heart stop. “Don’t. Touch. Me!” he growls lowly through clenched teeth, his expression making you freeze up. 

“I-I just…” Under his intimidating gaze, you deflate and confess honestly. “I missed you…I haven’t seen you in three days, and you’re my friend. I was really worried. Did I do something wrong?—” 

“If I walk away, then that means I don’t want you anywhere near me!” Remus glares coldly at you, his face crumpled into one that completely replaces his once gentle features. He is unrecognisable. “Leave me alone!” With that, he turns and leaves, a boulder in his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth, with the still silence ringing in his ears. He needs to get a hold of himself; he can’t believe he lashed out at you like that. Hopefully, you will leave him alone from now on, at least until after he has recovered from his transformation. 

Remus was halfway down the hall when the silence was finally broken by a soft sniffle and a suppressed whimper. He stops completely in his tracks. He dreads turning around, frozen in place in his fear that he had made you cry. The soft footfalls that follow as you walk away prompt him to turn and rush to you, desperate to correct his mistake. 

“I’m sorry!” he shouts, his heart thundering in his chest as he runs to you. It isn’t until he sees your heartbroken expression and the tears falling from your eyes that he drops to his knees and hugs you around the waist, burying his face in your stomach as he repeats his apology over and over. It is overdramatic, in hindsight, but in the moment, he can’t think of any other way to keep you from completely turning away from him. His lycanthropy has taken so many things away from him, and now he is about to lose the one thing he would fall apart without. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me, love,” 

Never before had you heard such affection in Remus’ words than in that moment. You don’t know what compelled him to be so incredibly mean, but his softened, pleading eyes, as he looks up from where he presses his cheek against your torso, have your knees weakening. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Ever since that day, Remus was found to be always trailing after you, always touching you and eagerly leaning down to hear you better. He loves peering intimately into your beautiful eyes and getting to smell your sweet fragrance. He now insists that you sit in his lap every time you join him to read in the library together. Feeling you close and getting the chance to hold you in his arms is an addictive feeling that Remus will never tire of. 

“Let me carry that for you, love,” Remus’ soft whisper has you hypnotically handing over your books as heat rises up your neck, “I’ll make you to class, today,”

“You walk me to class every day, Rem,” you giggle and smile as he presses a kiss to your temple and nuzzles your crown affectionately. 

“What about it?” there isn’t a trace of malice in his voice, only warmth. 

“Nothing~” he doesn’t let you go easily. Before you begin walking to class, he holds your chin and tilts it up ever so slightly, guiding your lips to meet his own in a soft kiss. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” his loving eyes and soft words make you melt. You’ve never had a more perfect morning.

“Good morning, Rem,” 

navi. | more remus lupin

a/n : this is dedicated to my darling friend @cheriiepies who's birthday is new years! i hope you enjoy this short imagine/oneshot, my lovely! i just hope i managed to include everything you wanted to me to include. and HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE! I hope you're surrounded by all the love and happiness you deserve on your special day!

[iloveazzifudd35]

Shower Thoughts

okay I did another!! I actually really enjoy this so give me suggestions for more or things I can improve on!! 4.4k

themes: friends to lovers kinda they already lovers / angst

tw: smut they get a lil freaky like face sitting 😺sry got carried away ig

Convincing Azzi to come to UConn came with a price. If she came to UConn, they would not be able to date. 

It was obvious both girls had feelings deeper than just those of best friends to anyone who knew them. But being teammates and all would mean that they couldn’t date in case they broke up and jeopardize the team's chemistry. 

Paige and Azzi were not worried about breaking up in the slightest. They were 3 years strong at this point and even after having a more open relationship that allowed them to see other people they always came back to each other causing them to tie it off. But now, they are back where they started. 

At first having Azzi at the same school as her was worth it even if they couldn’t date. But she didn’t realize just how hard it would be to hide it until the time came. 

Geno had set a rule that most of the other college coaches agreed with. Teammates couldn’t date. It was a pretty common sense rule, unless if you were fucking gay and paige bueckers and Azzi fudd. 

Of course this would affect them. 

They decided it wouldn’t be that hard to hide it would be fine, no one would realize it. But they realized they would have to go a lot longer without touching each other and being together than they thought, so they vowed to not make it official until at least Paige's senior year so Geno couldn’t complain about them causing problems, even though they knew nothing would happen.

This would be a lot harder than they anticipated. 

—-

They didn’t room together, so it was already bad enough not getting to see each other at nights. 

Paige found herself lying awake at night Azzi’s profile the closest she could get to her

—-

Me: I’m gonna murder Geno for this istg😩

I miss u 

Az: you saw me literally 30 minutes ago not even p 😂

Me: I don’t care it’s not enough I miss touching u and sleeping next to u and smelling ur hair. 

Az: maybe next tournament we will get roomed together 🤷‍♀️ 

I miss u too tho

Wanna get food in the morning? 

Me: can’t 

 I have to meet with the trainer earlier  

Az: damn really putting in the extra reps huh 

Me: yuh tryna be like u what can I say 😁

Az: fuck 

I really do miss u 

Me: we will get through it together

It will be worth the wait trust

…

I’ll do u right Az dw 

—-

In addition to the pause on the relationship, they decided to pause having sex until they had a break to go back home. They weren’t freaks or anything- kinda- but going months without it was harder than they thought. 

So far they were holding strong. 

—-

The next morning Azzi was slow to get up.

The sun was blasting in through the windows. When she slept with Paige, there was always a blanket covering the gaps so no sun could sneak through the creases. 

But Azzi was not with Paige.

She hadn’t been for a while, or at least since the summer break. It was now November just 4 games into their season and they would have to wait all the way until Christmas break to sneak a sleepover without raising questions from their nosy teammates. 

You weren’t allowed to sleep in another dorm, it was just a college rule. No one checked up on it, but Azzi and Paige were still under class man so they didn’t have their own dorms yet, meaning not only did they stay in the suite with the rest of their teammates, but also shared a bedroom- Azzi with Caroline and Paige with Ice- meaning they had no way of getting a secret sleepover-their was simply no room. 

Azzi was annoyed when she woke up this morning. The sun was too bright, and Paige was busy. 

She glanced over at Caroline who was still asleep, looking at her phone. It was only 8 o’clock. They had practice at 1 and the weight room after. Azzi only had one class this morning at 11. 

3 hours. She had hoped she would get to spend with Paige, but for some reason Paige had decided to go meet with a special trainer to help her go over some new skills at like 5 in the morning.

Azzi rolled out of bed quietly walking to the bathroom to get herself ready. 

About an hour later she was about to get coffee herself when she got a text from Paige. 

—-

P: hey Az can u pick me up? 

Me: I thought you drove? 

How did u get there?

P: I’m not at the trainers anymore, I’m at the hospital. 

—-

Azzi froze, she felt her stomach drop all the way down to the floor. 

She felt sick. Her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

—-

P: I can’t drive cuz I broke my foot landing wrong on a layup 

Me: PAIGE WHAT???

ARE YOU SERIOUS ROGHT NOW?? 

GENO IS GOING TO KILL YOU

ARE YOU OKAY??

R U ON CRUTCHES????

CAN U WALK HOW BAD IS IT??

P: Azzi it’s okay I just need you to pick me up I have already talked to Geno don’t worry about me. 

Me: I’m on my way don’t move

P: yup don’t have to worry about that 😀 👍 

—- 

Azzi’s heart was in her stomach, they had only played 4 games together so far. Azzi came not just for Paige but to play with her. Their chemistry on the court was undeniable and was a big reason why they were doing so well. Without Paige there was no telling of how successful they would be as a team. 

As Azzi drove she couldn’t help the nagging guilt in her. She should have gone with her to practice this morning. She should have stopped her from overworking herself. 

She has been working so hard to make sure she is in the best shape, but it’s also because she can’t be with Azzi, working out is the only thing that gets her mind off of it. So Azzi couldn’t help but feel partially responsible. 

The guilt was also accompanied by pity. She knew how much Paige loved basketball, it was her whole life, and this was her first serious injury. 

When Azzi had torn her ACL in 2018, Paige had been the first one to protect her and take care of her, now it was Azzi’s turn. 

—-

Although Paige was upset and frustrated with herself she knew it wasn’t the worst case scenario. After watching Azzi go through the entire ACL tear and watching her resilience as she returned to the court, she had full belief that this would not be the end for her. 

The second she fell she thought of Azzi. Paige knew that Azzi would feel guilty for not being there. Paige knew that she pushed herself too hard. Paige felt this level of guilt when Azzi got hurt. Azzi shares a part of her heart and she knew that if Paige got hurt she would feel it too. 

When the doctor told her it was a minor fracture in her medial talus she was freaked out for sure, but remembering the look on Azzi’s face when the orthopedist told her she would be out for a year max and need surgery, she felt surprisingly grateful. 

She wasn’t expecting this reaction from herself. But knowing she would be back in as early as 2 months made her feel lucky more than anything. 

All she was worried about was Azzi. Sure it would be a setback. But she remembered what Azzi had told her after her knee surgery. 

“A setback is only a failure if you let it stop you from working hard.” 

And as Paige watched Azzi work tirelessly for those 12 months, she knew what the word resilience meant for the first time.

—- 

Azzi slammed the door of her car, racing into the building to find Paige.

When she saw her big blue eyes rimmed red and puffy from crying her own began to water. She quickly hurried over to her wrapping her arms around her. Looking down at her foot in its cast. 

“Oh my god Paige what did you do?” She says laughing out of shock with an obvious pain that showed Paige exactly how she felt. 

“I’m okay Azzi honestly, it’s just a minor fracture I’m only going to be out for a couple months.” Paige said squeezing her shoulder

Azzi reached out, touching the hard cast. 

“But you have been working so hard. We only just started.” Azzi said against her shoulder. 

“Exactly . We have so much time together it’s okay. It’s just a minor setback, but after watching you recover and work so hard- maybe I needed this- maybe I needed this setback to put in perspective how much this really means to me.” Paige paused, pulling Azzi away from her grasp to look her in the eye. 

“ I believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe it isn’t clear now, but I’m sure it will be soon. Who knows maybe I’ll have the comeback of the year or something.” Paige said with a laugh. 

Azzi felt a little better hearing her laugh and seeing a smile on her beautiful face. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? Does it hurt.” Azzi said worriedly, helping her to her feet and grabbing her some crutches. 

“Nah I’m okay don’t worry it only hurts a little.” Paige said wincing as she steadied herself, her face saying another story. 

Azzi gave her a knowing look and made her sit down.

Grabbing her crutches and helping her hobble over to her car. 

“I’m gonna pick up your car later okay?” Azzi said looking at Paige all comfy in her front seat, she always kept a blanket there, claiming it was in case she got cold, but paige was the only one who ever used it. 

“No, don’t leave. I want you to stay with me. Just today.” Paige pleaded, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes. 

Azzi sighed. There was no arguing with her. 

As they pulled into their suite, the rest of the team was already there worried for her, including both Geno and CD and one of the athletic trainers. 

They spent about 45 minutes going over Paige's injury and talking about resilience and comeback and what not. 

Azzi ended up finding her unicorn arm cushions from when she tore her ACL and set Paige up with a nice comfy system. 

“Alright now for Paige’s sake I need someone to take good care of her while she is hurt.”  Geno started, looking around the room.

—

There were 4 suites for the team, 2 rooms in each one. The three were upstairs except for the one Azzi, Caroline, Amari, and Aubrey shared. 

—

“Ok Paige since you obviously won’t be going up the stairs for a little while, why don’t you stay down here and swap rooms with Caroline for the time being.” Geno continued. 

Paige and Azzi looked at each other. This would be the first time they slept in the same room since August. 

Paige couldn’t hide the smile that started curling on her lips, noticing Azzi having the same reaction. 

As everyone started to roll out of the room, one of the trainers paused. 

“Paige by the way, whatever you do u cannot get that cast wet. And you are going to have to get a bucket or something so you can sit in the shower. I’d recommend you get a teammate to help you clean yourself. You’re both girls, it's fine.” She said as she walked out the door. 

“Uhm so who’s going to literally shower paige.”  Aubrey said laughing. 

“I mean I guess it might make most sense for Azzi too since we are rooming…” Paige trailed off trying to hide her excitement of finally feeling Azzi’s soft fingers on her skin after all this time. 

“Wow, seems like someone knows exactly what she wants, I guess it’s settled, good luck Azzi…. And you should probably get on that cuz paige u smell like ass- must’ve been a good workout.” Amari chimed in laughing as Paige’s face turned bright red. 

Paige glanced at Azzi and watched as her lips twisted into a smirk 

“I have class in an hour but I guess if we make it quick.” Azzi said, looking  Paige up and down. 

Aubrey and Amari were completely clueless to the shift in the air. Paige on the other hand felt a warm sensation in her stomach as her panties dampened under Azzi’s intense stare. 

15 minutes later they were alone in the bathroom. The suite was empty except for them.

No one really suspected anything, if anything they felt bad for Paige having to be exposed like this. Paige on the other hand was both eager and nervous to be alone-naked with Azzi again.

Azzi locked the bathroom door.

“I feel like you got injured on purpose just so I would have to touch your naked body.” Azzi scoffed, creeping up to her. 

Paige had crutches into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet as Azzi moved her crutches and set up a plastic crate in the shower for Paige to sit on. 

Paige's breath hitched as Azzi walked towards her placing her fingers on her shoulders running them up and down her arms. 

Paige looked up at her with needy eyes. 

“Missed you so bad.” She said taking in Azzi in front of her. 

“I can tell.” Azzi laughed watching the way her body flinched under her touch. 

Azzi leaned in and started to unzip her hoodie.

“I have missed you too.” Azzi whispered into her ear, pressing her lips against it as she slid her hoodie off her shoulders. 

Paige whined craving more, helping pull her arms out of the holes. 

“So much for not fucking while we are on campus.” Paige said in between breaths. 

“Who said we were gonna fuck?” Azzi questioned, teasingly laughing as Paige pouted.

“What? I'm just following the trainers orders, nothing wrong with this baby.” Azzi continued as she guided Paige to lift her arms, raising her shirt over her head.

Azzi’s eyes flicked over her abs, watching as Paige's nipples poked through her sports bra under her gaze. Azzi ran her fingers over the sports bra paying special attention to them through the cloth. 

“You didn’t hurt your arms, you know.” Azzi noted, as Paige raised her arms again, wanting Azzi to take off her other layer as she felt the heat throbbing in her pants. 

“Azzi come on. I’m crippled.” Paige whines. 

Azzi rolls her eyes dramatically, wrapping her fingers around the band of her sports bra and making a show as she takes it off of her, revealing Paige's breasts and pink nipples all hard for her. 

Azzi’s breath hitched as she saw her beautiful girl in front of her naked and on display for the first time in months. 

She wanted nothing more than to latch her mouth and rub her hands all over her nipples, but seeing Paige cocky smirk at her reaction made her want to make Paige beg for it. 

Azzi couldn’t deny how hot this side of Paige was, this desperately submissive side she had been hiding, she wasn’t about to give in just yet, she wanted to make it last. 

Paige huffed as Azzi moved down to her pants, ignoring her pink nipples longing to be sucked, and going straight to work.

Azzi looked up at Paige's desperation-filled eyes and wrapped her fingers around her pants. Paige lifted her ass clawing at Azzi’s back for support as Azzi slid them down her legs slowly paying extra careful attention to her hurt foot. 

Paige closed her legs embarrassed about how wet she was. 

She had thrown on grey Cotton panties so there was no doubt Azzi would see just how much Azzi was affecting her. 

Azzi looked at her with a smirk as she pulled her legs apart, her smirk growing as she saw the pool of wetness that had accumulated in her panties.

“Aw Paigey you’re soaked.” Azzi said teasingly as Paige's face grew red turning away from her, refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I want you to look at me when I touch you.” Azzi said dominantly running her fingers along the waistband of her panties outlining the seam all the way down to the bottom of her ass. 

Paige shuttered, returning her glance to Azzi melting under her dominant brown eyes that would make her instantly release. 

Azzi ran her hands over Paige's face, pulling some of her blonde hair out of the way and back into the messy bun she had in.

“Let’s get these off and get you cleaned up… you’re such a mess.” Azzi said seductively wrapping her hands around the inner part of her panties brushing her fingers against Paige's folds. Paige let out a moan at the much needed contact. 

After her panties were removed and she was fully naked, Azzi helped her over to the shower, sitting her on the crate making sure her foot was still out of the way of the water.

Waiting no more time, Azzi grabbed a bottle of her soap- coconut and vanilla- the one that Paige would never stop smelling whenever she had it on, and began to massage it into her skin starting by standing behind her and rubbing it into her shoulders and back.

After a few minutes. Paige was confused why it was taking her so long, the need between her legs over powering her. 

“What are you doing?” Paige asked with a laugh as Azzi’s touch lingered against her back running up in back in a specific pattern 

“Writing my name.” Azzi responded simply, before leaning forward and clarifying, “I want you to know you’re mine.”

Paige let out a breathy moan at that, and shivered as Azzi, who was still standing outside of the shower, wrapped her arms from the back to the front of Paige's body blindly kneading her tits, rolling her nipples around in her fingers. 

“Just making sure I don’t miss a spot. Wanna make sure my pretty girl is done right.” Azzi said as Paige's breathing sped up. 

Azzi twists the bucket slightly so Paige is now facing her. She begins to spread the soap down, rubbing it into her lower stomach and passing the place Paige was craving to be touched.

Azzi rubbed her exposed foot and worked her way up massaging her calf and thigh slowly getting higher and higher on her thigh until she reached  her pussy. 

Mixing in some of the water Azzi began to move her hand closer to Paige's pussy, lightly brushing past her clit as she let the water wash off the soap. 

Paige moaned as the water pounded down on her clit, Azzi methodically worked the head of the shower so that it was lingering on her pussy, the warm water hitting her clit just where she needed it. 

Paige moaned at the contact and Azzi could no longer hold back any longer. She placed down the shower head back on the stand and she ran her fingers over paige’s pussy. 

“Need me bad huh.” Azzi whispered, staring at her pussy… 

Paige nodded desperately, thrusting her hips up balancing on her good leg, needing Azzi to apply contact. 

“Relax baby. Let me do the work.” Azzi said as Paige whined. 

She shoved Paige's hips back onto the bucket and began to run her fingers through her folds, rubbing small tight circles on her swollen clit. 

“You don’t know how much I have missed your beautiful pussy.” Azzi said, looking up at Paige as she thrusted 3 fingers inside her immediately, not giving her even a second to adjust to the stretch inside her. 

Paige yelped at the sudden feeling of Azzi inside of her that she had been craving for months. 

“oh god don’t stop baby.” Paige moaned, pulling Azzi closer to her, forcing her fingers deeper in until they hit her g spot. 

Azzi continued pounding into her curling her fingers upwards exploring Paige's cervix with her fingers while continuing to pound into her. 

Paige leaned up against the wall of the shower pulling Azzi towards her flexing her thighs as she began to feel her stomach tighten. 

“So close oh my god Azzi. Please.” 

Azzi, feeling her walls tighten, continued pounding into her, pressing on her lower stomach causing Paige to unravel underneath her. 

“Azzi oh god I’m coming.” Paige shouted as she moaned her wetness gushing out of her as Azzi rode out her high. 

Once Paige was just a pile of moans Azzi pulled her fingers out of her and popped them into her own mouth savoring her taste and making a show of herself sucking on them, refusing to make eye contact with paige.

Paige grabbed her by the hair forcing her tongue into her mouth moaning as she tasted herself in her mouth. 

“It’s not fair I’m the only one with no clothes on.” Paige noted, annoyed that she hadn’t gotten to see Azzi’s beautiful body yet. 

“Patience p.” Azzi said with a wink as she got up and grabbed a towel wiping off the rest of the water off of Paige's body.

She helped Paige hobble back to her room and got her situated, making sure her foot was elevated and she had plenty of Advil. 

“I’m gonna go grab you something to eat, I have class in like 45 minutes so I can’t be long.” Azzi said, taking off her shirt to change.

“Wait ow it hurts.” Paige said calmly to not stress out Azzi. 

But Azzi being how she is rushed over to paige. 

“Are you okay, do u need another pillow, more Advil?” Azzi started questioning, but was interrupted when Paige pulled her onto her lap so Azzi was straddling her. 

“It’s not fair that I was the only one who got fucked today.” Paige said smirking as she ran her hand over Azzi’s breasts that were poking through her tank top. 

“No bra? It’s like ur asking for me to fuck you. How am I supposed to focus on resting when I can see your pretty nipples through your shirt.” Paige noted pulling the straps of Azzi’s tank top down.

“Paige you need to rest come on.” Azzi said, but her breath hitched despite her and she let out a soft moan as Paige pulled her shirt up revealing her nice tits. 

Without saying anything Paige began to rub them, pulling Azzi towards her and wrapping her lips around her nipple. She sucked watching as Azzi moaned into her. 

Azzi could feel the wetness that had already formed in her shorts from when she finger fucked paige minutes earlier. 

“I don’t want you to over do it.” Azzi said between moans as Paige's fingers trailed lower on her stomach. 

“How bout u sit on my face.” Paige said with a smirk as Azzi immediately went red. 

“I’m too heavy paige oh my god that’s no I don’t think-“ Azzi started protesting but paige grabbed her ass squeezing it tightly as she pushed Azzi up towards her mouth sitting her so her legs were on either side of her head. 

At this point Azzi was hovering over her in just her pink Nike shorts. Without another word Paige pulled her shorts to the side and pushed Azzi down on her tongue. 

Azzi let out a loud moan in shock at the sudden pressure. Paige's nose brushed her clit as she dipped her tongue in and out of Azzi.

Pulling it out she began to swirl it around her clit flicking it up and down against her. 

Paige grabbed Azzi’s ass, grinding her against her mouth tasting her wetness. 

“Missed this pussy- taste so good” paige said against her pussy. The vibrations of her voice overstimulate Azzi as she feels her climax start to close in.

“Feels so good.” Azzi moans “gonna come oh god.” Azzi feels herself try to pull away but paige’s strong hand keeps her tight on her face continuing to fuck her with her tongue.

“Look at me baby. You can come for me.” Paige says without stopping. 

Azzi meets her eyes and instantly crumbles under the dominance of the blue eyes. She started coming her white syrup pouring into Paige's mouth as Paige used her tongue to shovel every drop of it into her mouth. Savoring the taste of her. 

“You taste amazing. I have missed this.” Paige said happily looking at Azzi who was folded over on top of her. 

Azzi moved to the side to look into her beautiful blue eyes. Laughing as she sees some of her come on her nose. She kisses it off smiling.

“To be honest I don’t think I can not do this for another month.” Azzi said, running her hand lovingly over Paige's face. Ya I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem anymore, Paige said looking at her phone seeing a text from Aubrey.

—-

Aub: Can u guys shut the fuck up. Like my ears are bleeding 😀

It cannot be that good Azzi

whole new meaning to that 69 joke you made. 

U held out well I’ll give u that, guess I owe ice 50 bucks. 

—-

Paige laughed, turning back to Azzi, who looked a little nervous. 

“What if Geno finds out and gets bad at us.” Azzi starts. “I don’t want him worried that we are going to mess up the team if we break up.” 

Azzi said worriedly as she snuggled closer to paige. 

“Baby don’t worry, that’s not gonna happen, we won’t break up, can’t even go a month without you so trust when I say I could never live without you.” Paige said, reassuring her, and touching her now messy, curly hair. 

“You have girlfriend hair.” She laughed trying to pat it down for her. 

“Ughh paigeee.” Azzi whines, flattening it with her hands and shoving Paige back before snuggling up into her chest. 

“I love you P.” She says muffled by her chest.

“Love you too Az.” Paige replies wrapping her fingers in her hair pulling her closer to her heart where she will keep her forever. 

[mclarengf]

il faut que je te dise quelque chose

a new years party? i bet absolutely nothing will happen.

[1.1k]

note: happy new year yall!!! i hope 2025 brings u all a lot of happiness and good luck x

“i’m gonna do it.”

lando looked up from his phone, “what?”  i haven’t been listening to you at all.”

you pouted at him before repeating yourself, “i’m gonna kiss him tonight. at midnight. for real.”

“wait, oscar?”

you flicked him square in the forehead for his stupidity.

“who else, dummy? i’m gonna sit him down and tell him how i feel, and then, if he somehow feels the same way, i’m gonna kiss him.”

he barks out a laugh and tells you, “about time!”

you liked oscar, and lando was the only other person who knew it. ever since he figured it out in miami, lando had made your life miserable, constantly teasing you if you blushed after oscar complimented you, or if you lost your train of thought when he walked in the room.

“anyway, are you done yet? max wants to know when he should pick us up.”

some of your friends in monaco are throwing a new years party tonight, and you and lando, your closest friend here, are getting ready for it in your apartment. 

well, you’re getting ready. he’s dressed already, in a simple button-up and jeans, and has been tapping at something on his phone for the past 20 minutes— something which looks suspiciously like jetpack joyride. 

you tell lando you have to finish doing your hair, but will probably be done around the time max gets to your place if he leaves now. 

“alright,” he slaps his knees as he stands up, “you have to tell me how it goes, yeah?”

he claps you on the back before leaving to the kitchen, probably to start his night of drinking. 

—

the party was loud. whoever was dj’ing had to have hearing damage, because anyone else wouldn’t be able to be in such close proximity to the bass-boosted speakers.

it was about an hour til midnight, and annoyingly, you still hadn’t seen oscar. that’s why you were now making the rounds trying to find him, sliding past groups of people you didn’t recognise and briefly saying hi to the ones you did. 

you were trying to navigate around a stupidly placed configuration of chairs when you bumped into someone.

“i’m so sorry-“ your apology died on your tongue when you saw who it was.

“oscar!”

he greets you with a hug and a quick kiss to the cheek, “how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you since the championship party!”

you smile up at him.

“i’m good! i’ve been a bit busy at home, so i haven’t been able to do anything else. how are you? you look good!”

you take a step back from him to take the sight of him in. he must have arrived a while ago, if his sweaty hair and the drink in his hand are anything to go by.

“you look beautiful, by the way.”

you’ve never been able to handle his compliments well, not when he always tells you like he really means it. 

you manage to keep your composure enough, though, and stutter out a ‘thank you’ before returning the sentiment. 

“you look really good, too.”

he smiles shyly at the ground, then gestures to a nearby booth so you can continue your conversation. 

as you make your way over, he places his hand on the small of your back, subtly guiding you through the small crowd in between you and your destination. the feeling of his hand on your skin burns, desperately drawing your attention. you try to ignore it though, for fear of blushing so hard that oscar will be able to see it, despite the strobing lights.  

wait, why is oscar staring at you? shit, is it that obvious already? 

you press a hand to your cheek as you sit, trying to feel how warm you actually are, but before you can properly judge your temperature, oscar picks up your talk where you had left it, and the two of you fall back into easy conversation. 

you talk about lots of things, in a way you can only comfortably do so around oscar, and you only take notice of the time again when the people around you start chanting down from 60.

“so, oscar, i was thinking…” you trail off, taking another sip of your drink as you consider how to word your confession.

he looks at you attentively, waiting for whatever you’re about to say. 

“i wanted to tell you that-“ you cut yourself off and sigh. this isn’t working. 

maybe you should just wait til another time. there’s no need to rush anything, you suppose.

35… 34… 33…

oscar has a strange glint in his eye, but you brush it off as being his amusement at your evident speechlessness. 

“nevermind!”

you try to smile like nothing’s wrong, but you’re cursing at yourself on the inside for being such a pussy. 

28… 27… 26…

you decide to switch the topic.

“shouldn’t you find some girl to kiss at midnight?”

he shakes his head, and this time it’s his turn to drink before he talks. 

“nah, i’m happy staying here with you. it’s nice.”

you melt at the thought of oscar being content to spend his new years with you over everyone else at the party. now, if only you could tell him how you’d like to spend the rest of your life with him over everyone else in the world, you’d be very happy.

17… 16… 15…

you spend the last fifteen seconds of your year internally debating whether you should still kiss oscar. i mean, if it’s a new years kiss and he has no idea about your feelings, then it’d be fine, right? 

you almost don’t realise it’s turned midnight because you’re too preoccupied, playing a mental game of eeny meeny miny mo to solve your dilemma. 

the time is brought to your attention, though, when oscar places his hand on your cheek, says, “i’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” and brings you close for a new years kiss.

you could swear you feel fireworks exploding in your chest when your lips touch, and it only takes you a second to realise what’s going on before you respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

you could die happy now, you think. his lips are so soft, and they fit with yours perfectly. you don’t even mind the taste of jack and coke on his tongue. somehow, it all blends together into one thing— oscar. 

everything is oscar, oscar, oscar. 

when you part, you’re slightly dazed from how passionate the kiss was.

“so, what were you gonna tell me?” 

although his cheeks are also flushed, and his pupils are slightly blown, oscar’s still got a cheeky grin on his face as he catches his breath. 

you roll your eyes, knowing full-well by this point that he knew just as much as you did, the whole time. 

“happy new year, oscar.” 

he raises his glass and tilts it towards you for a cheers.

“happy new year.”

you clink your drinks together, and as he slings an arm around your shoulders, you think, this year may turn out really well. 

[bonefall]

Prev naming the foster kit disco really fits considering she can't sit still, maybe you should incorporate that into discopaw's personality

Discopaw is coming easy to me! She does fit the personality of the kitten quite a bit, with a few differences.

I want to make sure Discopaw doesn't take up too much "screentime" that other characters could get, so I plan for her to consistently be in the background of conflicts

A voice shouted in a Gathering argument, one of Deerfoot's rebels, seen tangling ferociously with a bigger warrior in battle, etc!

In every way, she's perpetually sanguine. She has a zest for life. Discopaw loves to dance, join chants, sing loudly and play games.

That's based on her canonical appearance, shouting for Ravenpaw to tell his battle story. She's definitely a Gathering friend of his.

(Thinking about it, I should give her a line where she asks Fire about where Ravenpaw is at a Gathering. Good way to sneak in exposition/recap in book 2, that he feels sad that he needs to lie to her about his death to keep his friend safe. Especially when she takes the news pretty rough.)

So being "unable to sit still" is very fitting. Background character who would casually be changing places, vanishing from crowd shots in between camera pans.

Since I need to pad out some mass death events in ShadowClan, she's going to go down in one. She's a "high priority" kill since she's a Glitch Warrior, but I am hoping to get her to survive TPB at least.

So probably Yellowcough at the latest.

Also, I'm unsure who her mentor is. Deerfoot is an obvious choice, though I'm unsure if Brokenstar would want to reward him as one of his major critics. Russetfur is who I'm leaning towards right now.

Or maybe even have her old mentor be one of the cats driven out with Brokenstar, such as Tangleburr, and Nightstar reassigns her. Something like that.

[thewidowsledger]

Agent

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Undercover Agent!Natasha Romanoff x Mob boss!Female Reader

Word count: 693

Tags | Warnings: None, is the sexual tension in the room with us (?)

Author's Note: This is not a fic, more like a drabble👉👈 I hate how so many good ideas are running in my mind when I am heart broken, so just let me spoil y'all as long as I can :))

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"Go home, get some rest."

Natasha lingers by the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes darted around the room, and her clasped hands fidget behind her back.

"Nat." You called.

She sighs, leaning against the doorframe and stealing a glance out the window.

"Natasha." You called again, much firmer this time.

Ah, she's in shit now. She knows damn well she's in deep trouble when she hears her full name being used especially by you. "Sorry, boss, guess I'm…distracted."

"That much is obvious." You offer a brief smile from your desk, but it fades just as quickly. "What's wrong, Natasha?"

Oh well, the list goes on and on. Where to begin? First, she's an undercover agent walking a tightrope, knowing her bosses are ready to pull the plug on the operation. Second, she's not a very good agent, since she became too attached to her target, the woman she's been "guarding" for six months. She's an agent, and she's wondering if she should be.

Not that the answer is to join organised crime, either. But she's probably not as…objective as she used to be.

"I'm not sure about tomorrow," she finally admits. She doesn't like lying to you.

"What makes you unsure?"

Tomorrow looms large. The brass is forcing her hand. Natasha already delayed delivering you to them three times, and tomorrow, in the middle of your biggest land trade in years, her fellow agents are going to storm the place. There will be chaos, and you're likely to get caught in the crossfire. And despite her divided loyalties, she knows she'll put her life on the line to protect you. Whether they will question her credibility if she's a traitor or not.

Well all because she's just the agent who fell for her target—the "Romeo" of the operation. She just hopes that the story doesn't end in tragedy.

"Are we sure the meeting place is secured?"

"You went with Bucky to secure it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"You're nervous," you interrupt smoothly. Your smile is as polished as your satin night dress and the faint, fabricated English accent you wear like armor. Natasha knows it's a front—like her own.

"Can't help it," she shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Your heels click on the floor. The sound haunts her in her dreams.

"I know you can't." You almost sound like you're soothing her. "But try not to let it cloud your judgement."

She nods, brushing a speck off her jacket. It's the best she's ever dressed in her life, all thanks to you. Steve loves to tease her about it, especially the set of black shirt she's never ran out.

You blink as she catches your hand before you can pull away from you completely. "Natasha."

"You," she begins, breaking the strict rule against using names—real or fake—in the office. But you had told her your name yourself, and it's been etched into her mind ever since, like a treasure on a pedestal. "Just…think about tomorrow again."

She meets your gaze, both faces unreadable. Natasha's mastery of concealing emotions comes from years of training, while yours seems effortless. "You're concerned about me?"

She inhales, squeezing your hand tighter. Finally free to tell the truth, she says, "your safety is my top priority."

Something changes in those eyes of yours, but she can't quite tell what it is.

Natasha blinks as you lean in, pressing a light yet deliberate kiss to her cheek. She fights to keep her composure, knowing the Boss rarely shows affection—mercy even less so. But her focus is entirely on calming the storm of butterflies in her stomach.

Oh idiot Romeo, indeed.

You lock eyes with her, your hand steady on her cheek. "We'll be fine," you say with unwavering confidence.

She holds your gaze, resisting the urge to hope for another kiss. Slowly, she lets go of your hand. "If you say so, boss."

You arch a brow. "Back to boss, is it?"

She felt a smirk but more like a smile tug at her lips. "Would you rather I call you something else?"

Your hand glides down her chest, skimming over her leather jacket until it rests on the concealed weapon at her belt. A sly smirk appears as you reply.

"You tell me, agent."

[verycoolusername1]

At Home With Nobody To Hold

Summary: You're missing your boyfriend during the holidays, unaware you're about to get the best present ever.

Track 5 of fruitcake - is it new years yet?

A/N: Gave family members some names(Nora, Ray, Sara, Ava, etc) definitely not from any DC show... *sigh* I miss legends

And I'm so jealous rn I need a bf like this now!!! This one shot is so cute got my giggling and everything-

I also was gonna have a comedic ending, but this ending is too cute that I just couldn't do it(but there is a jack hughes reference that I could not write without laughing)

You sipped on your soda for what felt like the five hundredth time. You were on the balcony trying to ignore your grandmother's questions about grandchildren. The holidays sucked... but then again, you wouldn't have met your boyfriend Ethan if you hadn't gone to the Christmas party before break two years ago.

It sucks being so far away from him for a week, but you two had regular calls now and then. You just wished you could be with him right now.

Your cousin Nora opened the screen door and joined you outside.

"Oh god, you look like a mess." She chuckles. "Missing the boyfriend?"

"Missing the boyfriend." You confirmed with a sigh. "I thought I would be fine with it, but here we are."

Nora nodded to your words. "Yeah, long distance is a bitch but you'll live. You two been through this sort of stuff before."

"I hope so." You mutter under your breath.

"Dinners about to start, think you'll be able to suck it up for an hour." Nora looked at you.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah I'll be fine."

Suddenly your phone starts to ring, seemly ending the conversation there. You looked at your phone, it was Ethan.

"You guys go on without me, gotta take this." You placed your soda down and answered the phone, Nora going back in the house.

"Hey baby." Ethan's voice rang through the winter air.

"Hey. What are you doing?" You asked, fiddling with your sweater.

Ethan hums. "Oh, nothing. Just watching some Christmas movie."

You nod. "We're about to have dinner."

Ethan stayed silent for a moment. "Oh damn I called you at the wrong time then."

"No, you didn't." You laugh. "I'll always make time for you, you know that."

Ethan's heart swells at your words, a smile breaking out on his face. "Where are you again? Your moms?"

"No, I'm at my grandma's house. She keeps asking me about you and... grandkids." You explained. "Wish you were here to suffer with me."

Ethan laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure that'll be fun, watching you get all flushed."

You laughed at his words. "If anything, it's embarrassing. I mean, we aren't even out of college yet."

Ethan lets out a sigh. "Yeah, just a couple more months. Then we can finally move in together just like we always wanted."

"Yeah, in jersey." You groaned. "I love you and all, but I didn't know there were even cities in New Jersey. And the apartments... they... actually look nice."

Ethan laughed loudly over the phone. "You did not just say that."

"Well I've never been to New Jersey before!" You argued.

I'm so telling Luke about this." Ethan mutters.

"You aren't telling him anything." You hiss.

"Texting him as we speak." His voice was stern.

You looked back to the kitchen to see your family sitting happily and chatting. You start to imagine Ethan sitting next to your dad, laughing at whatever joke he said or him talking to your niece, agreeing with her on anything and everything. It made your heart break slightly.

There was shuffling on Ethan's end as he heard your sniffle.

"Hey babe you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just the cold." You answered.

"You should get inside then, get warmed up." Ethan noted.

"Yeah, I should." There was more shuffling on Ethan's end. "What are you doing?"

"Just getting in the car, quick stop to the store." He answered like it was obvious.

"Is it freezing there in Canada?" You asked.

"Uh, not really, which is surprising." Ethan joked.

You went back inside and sat on the couch, suddenly there was a doorbell at the door.

"Maybe you should get that." Ethan said.

"Right cause I'm the only one that isn't occupied with food in their mouth." You chuckled. "Be right back."

You got up and headed towards the door, expecting trade marketers. You unlocked the door, and your jaw dropped.

"Ethan? Ethan! What-what are you doing here? I thought you were with your family."

"You needed me more." He looked down at you as he kissed your forehead.

"Y/N, who's at the door?" Your grandmother, Sara appeared in the doorway. "And who is this fine young man?"

Your face flushed as you cleared your throat as you came up with a reply, Ethan coming up with one before you did.

"Oh, my name's Ethan." He introduced himself. "I'm Y/N's boyfriend."

"Ethan?" Your dad, Ray appeared. "Oh come on over here."

Ethan chuckled as he gave your dad a hug.

"Looks like you won't be grumpy this holiday after all." Nora joked, to which you scoffed at.

Ethan made his way back to you. "I forget something." His hands resting on your waist.

Ethan grinned at your confused face and leaned in and kissed you passionately, ignoring the cheers from your grandmother. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours for a moment.

"I love you." He mumbles seemly lost in your eyes.

Your hand caresses his cheek. "I love you too."

[athenamikaelson]

WITS NOVELLA STORY #1

A/N- This takes place in Chapter 20 when Theo and Klaus meet for the first time and Theo throws a stick at him. This is short and unedited but I’m sick, so bare with me. Warnings-swearing, blood 

Word Count- 1k

THEO’S POV-

“Theo! Hold the fuck on, you dumbass,” My sister’s voice makes me halt and stare at her in shock. 

Is this hoe serious?????!!!!

“What the fuck are you doing,” I yell at her and I feel my eye twitch as I look from my sister to the stray staring up at us. 

“He’s not going to hurt us… at least he wasn’t until you threw a fucking twig at his head,” Y/n says and I don’t miss the small smile that comes onto her face when she looks down at the MUTT glaring up at us while holding the huge tree-branch I threw at him to protect my sister. I almost faint when I hear my sister giggle. 

SHE’S FUCKING GIGGLING!? WHY IS SHE GIGGLING? I mean I’m glad my sister is laughing…she doesn’t laugh much. Well, she does when she is with me, but like…I’m me. He’s…a thing! 

“Luv, I know I made a promise about not hurting him, but I think I might have to break that,” The rabid one growls I glare at him and act like I’m not scared, but before the thing can see me, Y/n stands in front of me.  

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

My sister’s threat makes the gremlin in front of us go quiet. I look over my sister’s shoulder and look between the thing and my sister. Where my sister has a harsh glare on her face, the thing just stares blankly at her. My sister is still glaring at him, but I see something shift in his gaze. He still looks annoyed but as his head tilts slightly, it’s almost as if he’s enjoying her staring at him. And then his eyes soften. 

Not on my watch. 

“This sexual tension is freaking me out,” I say sarcastically hoping it’ll freak my sister out and get her away from this pervert. 

“Shut up, Theo!”

“Oh, let the boy continue.”

The smirk on the idiot's face makes me want to barf on him. I grasp my sister’s hand and pull her over to me slightly. She turns over her shoulder, sends me a small smile, and squeezes my hand. 

Ya, woman, that’s nice and all but let’s get the fucking house already. 

“He hurt you, Y/n,” I glare at the demon.

“Did not,” He dismisses. 

This bitch, “Did too!”

“Did no-”

“Jesus Christ, stop you two! Theo, it was Stefan who hurt me. Klaus actually…helped me. I guess.”

My sister’s words have me pausing. Stefan did this to her? Welp, looks like I got to add Vampire Hunter to my resume. 

“Stefan did this to you,” As she nods I feel a wave of anger rush over me, “Fine. Then grab that stick we’re going to go stab Stefan instead.”

I walk past my sister and begin to hop down the steps. Idgit raises the stick for me to take and I nod at him. 

“I’ll join you, mate.”

If I were a better person, I would decline his offer since I’ve heard just how bad this guy is from Jeremy. But, when it comes to getting back at the people who hurt my sister, I’m fine with not being a good person. 

I get to the last step when I feel a tug on the blanket I’m wearing.

“Theo go back inside. Now.”

My sister glares at me and I go to argue but her expression turns to one of slight pain. My gaze goes up the dried blood on her forehead and I feel a wave of shame flow through me. 

I turn back toward the pain in my side and point my fingers at him in an “I’m watching you way” and I’m surprised he doesn't growl at me. I give a final look at my sister before going back into the house. 

I quickly run towards the living window and hide behind the curtain as I watch them. No way in hell am I leaving my sister unchaperoned. 

I watch as Klaus stares hopelessly at my sister and I roll my eyes. Make it any more obvious would you, Dip Shit. Of course, out of all the suitors in the world, my sister had to get this asshole to be all googly-eyed for her. I mean my sister’s pretty and all, I mean she’s related to me, of course, she’s beautiful, but come on Y/n, seriously, him?!

I see my sister start wringing out her hands, an anxious tic I know she has, and I roll my eyes again. 

For fucks sake.

My sister turns her head away from the devil’s eyes, shyly. Jesus how are we related… I’ve really got to teach her how to flirt…I mean not with this douchebag… but someone, in the VERY distant future. 

—-

I tighten my blanket around myself as I glare at my sister, “You kissed him!?”

My sister has the audacity to shake her head at me, “Technically he kissed me.”

My eye twitches, “Nuh-uh, you kissed him back!”

My sister's face showcases a look of shame, “You can’t tell anyone, Theo. Seriously. Not Jeremy, or Elena, or anyone.”

“Why not?”

It takes only a moment for me to realize what I just asked. Oh ya, scary hybrid. 

“Oh, ya. Crazy Pyshco that killed your best friend and is harassing all your friends now. Ya, secrets safe with me,” I say sarcastically while nodding. 

My sister grabs my hand, “Theo I’m serious.”

I squeeze her hand back, “I promise. Sibling pact and shit….Also,” I smirk, “Was it good?”

My oh-so-innocent sister frowns, “Was what good?”

This bitch…

“The kiss.”

My sister smiles and I raise my eyebrows, and then she raises her hand and I flicnhcas she hits me in the head.

I step back and cover my hair, “Ow, woman. Don’t be putting your filthy hands on my precious hair.”

My sister smirks, “Your greasy hair.”

Oh HELL NO.

“How dare you! It’s not greasy,” I run over to the mirror in the hall and look at my hair. See totally not-oh shit. It must’ve been that new hair gel I tried! I throw off the comforter I’m wearing and run down the hallway and into the bathroom. 

[clannfearrunt]

"Warmth"

A pair of short scenes I wrote a while back; snippets of Thresher and Rill interacting with their fathers on a winter day.

Thresher carefully stepped over the sleeping bodies of his podmates, reaching for the flap covering the tent exit. He paused, hearing the soft grunt of someone rousing from sleep. 

“Where are you going?” It was Jin. He lifted his heavy head to blink drowsily at his child. “It’s cold out.”

Thresher pulled out his phone to check the weather. 50F. “Taking a piss. It’s not cold.” Jin worried too much. He stepped outside, ignoring the low grumbling coming from behind. 

Crisp winter air greeted him outside; the night was quite chilly, unpleasantly so, but not dangerous. The earth beneath his bare feet had failed to retain any heat from the weak December sun, and hungrily sapped his own body heat away. He supposed Jin’s concern was fairly reasonable this time. He does the worrying so I don’t have to, he reminded himself. Thresher stretched upwards, refusing his body’s instinct to shrink against the cold. Sitting there shivering wouldn’t help him get back to bed any quicker. 

Before heading back inside, he paused to gaze out into the desert. All was quiet save for the occasional rustle of dead shrubs as a breeze nipped gently against his skin. Though moonless, the night wasn’t dark - the distant haze of Splatsville’s lights smothered out the stars that Thresher had heard should be lighting up the sky instead. He squinted up at the faint remaining stragglers blinking weakly in the vanishing patches of darkness for a few moments, then gave up and slunk through the tent’s heavy tarp. 

Inside, Thresher thought he caught Jin turning conspicuously onto his side. No doubt he had been sitting awake waiting for him to return. 

He doesn’t have to do that, he sighed. Thresher wasn’t a little kid anymore. 

But he gently passed over the rest of his family again (even Reef, who ran the warmest) and draped himself over Jin, settling against the dull heat of his body. He idly counted the spots on Jin’s speckled hide - there were more stars on his back than in the night sky outside - until his eyelids began to drop. 

In the morning when they all wake, Buddy would be chirping for everyone’s full attention, and it would be Thresher’s turn to be the older podmate. But for now, in the long winter night, Thresher was warm against a sea of stars, and he was Jin’s little calf. 

-------

“— so today, my son’s taking our newest Lampris™ heatwear system for a spin himself!”

“Right, it’ll be interesting to find out how much longer I – or any other cold-blooded folks – would be able to stay out here with the new gear.”

“Maybe we’ll be able to share this experience with more people afterwards, but finally getting to take my boy out on the ice proper – now that’s what matters!”

“Alright folks, see you around, and good fishing!” Fathom cut the video recording and set out to upload it to his Twitter. If he had noticed how quickly his son Rill had pulled his protective mask and goggles back on, he showed no signs of it. Rill did notice their butler leaning in to say something to Fathom, which he seemed to cheerfully brush off; the butler returned to their vehicle with obvious hesitation, where he stood hovering by the driver door with the keys visible in his hand. Well, at least someone was watching out for Rill.

Already, Rill regretted taking his mask off for any amount of time. The electric heating system in his stupid coat provided barely any relief against the freezing air he just took into his lungs. He probably shortened his time out here by quite a bit by chilling his core from the inside out. If they weren’t out here to fish, he could probably raise his temperature with some heavier exercise. He just hoped he’d be able to stay out long enough to satisfy Fathom. Rill narrowed his eyes at his “father”’s unmasked, un-goggled head; the sheer difference in their respective cold weather equipment pissed him off. Fathom’s breath turned to steam with every exhale, and Rill wanted to tear into the fish’s hot innards and steal his undeserved warmth.

Since Rill’s time was more limited, his father had him drop his lure first. Fathom immediately began coaching him on effective jigging techniques, but already Rill was having trouble listening. How long had it been since they drove out onto the ice? The initial estimate for how long he could stay out here wearing the Lampris system, without heavy exercise, was an hour to an hour and a half - how much of it had they used during transportation and setup? 

The warmth from the battery operated heat packs were faint, struggling against the freezing temperatures outside. The battery life probably wasn’t long either, considering the cold. What even was the temperature outside right now? He couldn’t remember. 

Was he moving his lure? He tried to lift his rod slightly and let it drop again. Was he even using the right technique? 

Did his body store ink in large volumes while in rest? Or did it produce it as needed? 

At what temperature did ink freeze? 

Was he breathing? 

Yes. Okay. 

But it felt glacial, as he felt his body slowly slipping towards torpor. 

It was interesting, he noted dully, just how slowly one could continue to panic. 

“Rill, Rill you’ve got a bite!” Fathom’s shout sounded like it came from somewhere between 3 feet to 3 miles away. 

Oh, Rill thought distantly. I guess fish really are desperate on the ice. 

Suddenly he found his arms yanked backward, snapping the rod sharply upwards. Fathom was behind him. Right. Rill struggled to remember how to turn his hand to reel in his line. His boneless arms seemed more stiff than should be possible. He felt vibrations through his back from what was probably Fathom shouting something, but he didn’t hear what it was– 

And Fathom peeled away, reaching for the catch. Some kind of medium sized fish. Whatever. Fathom clapped him on the back and babbled excitedly, but Rill no longer registered its meaning. At this point it took all his focus just to take the fish from Fathom’s hands and hold it up for the photo he was sure to want. 

As Fathom handed off his phone to their butler and posed for a photo, Rill leaned in closer than he normally would, pressing himself into his father’s embrace – but no warmth made it through to him between each of their coats.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Out Of The Blue

Here we go againnnnn

I hope you all are having wonderful holidays <3

I apologize again for the long wait and the short chapter, the end of the year has been... tiring. In the last two months, my 14yo cat got sick, I got sick, got some medical appointments with not so great news (nothing life threatening or anything but just very annoying as I've been dealing with the same things for years now and they are still not fixed), and now my grandpa is sick when his health was already quite fragile, so yeah, my motivation to write wasn't really that high and I got tired very quickly after writing only two sentences, so that's why it took so so long.

I am very thankful for everyone supporting my silly au tho, it helps me to keep going, so thanks a lot <3 I wish you all a very happy new year <3

First

Prev

Next

@ancha-aus I'm summoning you once again

Morning came, and everyone had woken up, Cross first to take his turn in standing guard in a hurry after realizing he had slept for more than the planned few minutes, then Killer, who came by his side to keep him company, then Dust, who stayed next to Horror for the warmth, Horror who took a quick nap after his turn and then stayed with the small skeleton, and finally Nightmare, but he didn't move from his spot.

It was cold and humid, Cross needed to find somewhere dry where they could stay. He was walking around the area they had stopped in, thinking, as Killer was walking next to him.

- Quo tendimus ?

Killer asked, but Cross of course didn't understand. He stared at the roman with confusion.

- Iter ?

Killer tried again. Cross's confusion only grew, what was Killer trying to ask him ? Did he need something ? He didn't seem to have a problem, but maybe he was hungry ? They hadn't eaten since the previous day. Maybe Cross should try and hunt something, but how would he do that ? He only had his sword, and he clearly wouldn't be able to chase any prey in this armor. They should try to find someone, and maybe they'll have food for them.

- Mengier ?

Cross tried to ask him if he wanted to eat. Killer frowned, but quickly nodded once he understood the word. It was one of the few words they used regularly and knew how to say in the other languages.

- Sumemusne cibum omnibus ?

- Uh...

- Omnes: me, vos, Horror, Dust, Nightmare.

Killer explained, pointing at himself and Cross before mentioning the others. Did omnes, or omnibus as he said earlier, mean everybody ? It seemed so, Cross figured. Killer asked something about everybody, did he asked if the others were hungry too ? They most likely were, no one had eaten after all. They should find food for everyone. Cross nodded at Killer, to which he smiled, happy to have been understood. Now, where would they find food ?

Killer ran off.

- Killer ! Atendez !

Cross screamed at him to wait, running after the roman. Why did he run like that ? He wouldn't catch anything if he wasn't more discrete !

- Killer !

Cross called again, but the roman didn't stop and continued to sprint between the trees.

Cross eventually caught up to him, only for Killer to slow down and come to a stop once he reached the end of the forest.

- Ne correz mie ainçois !

Cross said when arriving next to him, telling him to not run like that. The roman didn't listen, instead pointing at what seemed to be a town a little farther. Cross looked at it. It looked familiar. Too familiar. He got out of the woods first, careful, looking around for any sign of danger, and gestured to Killer to follow him once sure the area was safe. The roman joined his side, looking at the town, and waited for the knight to lead the way.

- Retez près de moy.

Cross ordered him to stay close to him, not wanting him to run off again. Both started to walk towards the oddly familiar town as it started to become obvious to Cross that they were in his own time as he recognized the buildings and the way people talked and were dressed. They entered by an alley, Cross first, Killer following close behind.

The knight stopped, looking from side to side, the people here didn't seem to notice him, but would they notice Killer ? He wasn't dressed like them, sure it wasn't as striking as the clothes the rest of the group was wearing, but it still was unusual. Cross made a sign to Killer to follow him before getting out of the alley into the streets, if the people saw that Killer was with him they would probably question his clothing a little less.

The two walked for a brief moment, soon reaching the village square with the merchants, and Cross turned in a tight alley between two houses. They needed to find a way to get one of the merchants to give them some food, which wouldn't be easy, as they didn't have any money on them at the moment, but maybe they could pay differently ? They could offer their help for whatever there needed to be done in exchange for food ? They had to try.

Cross turned to Killer to explain his plan, only to not find Killer behind him.

- Killer ?

He called, but received no answer. Where was he ? Did he lose him ? Did he lose him in the crowd ? How could he lose him ?! He was right behind him ! Wasn't he paying attention to his surroundings ?!

Cross left the alley in a hurry, he needed to find Killer ! Luckily, or unluckily, he quickly heard a merchant yell, and not two seconds later he saw Killer running past him with a bag of bread in his arms. Cross didn't need to be a genius to understand that Killer stole those, which, of course, was the total opposite of being discrete.

- Killer !

Cross tried to call him again, running after him, but the roman was faster than he was as he wasn't running with an armor on. He saw Killer take a turn to the left before hearing a loud noise as if he had fallen on something. Cross hoped he didn't hurt himself, even if he was slightly relieved by the thought that he had stopped running.

He followed Killer in the alley, before freezing: the thief was sitting on the ground, a hand above his bag ready to dive in and take out a knife at any moment, only held back to do so by the sword pointed at his throat. The knight standing in front of him was holding the bag of bread in his free hand. Killer's empty sockets were staring at the knight who's gaze wasn't visible under the helmet.

Cross looked at Killer, feeling his anxiety grow in his chest. Why didn't he do as told and stayed behind him ? Why did he have to run off on his own ? He didn't know how things worked here ! No, what was he thinking about ? It wasn't Killer's fault, all he wanted was bring some food to everyone, he couldn't be mad at him for that. Cross should have explained to him better how to behave instead of dragging him in the middle of the marketplace. He should have thought ahead, because now his friend was in trouble. He needed to help him.

Killer's gaze turned to Cross. He had to do something, to think fast and get Killer and himself out of here. But what could he say ? What could he say for the knight to let him go after having stolen food ? Should he blame it on himself ? Tell that he was the one to ask Killer to steal ?

A voice spoke from behind him before he had time to say anything.

- Nos allons le prandre en carge, mercit.

The knight with the sword turned, looking at who just said they were going to take care of the thief on the ground, before nodding and putting his sword away, leaving with the bag of bread. Killer got up, and Cross turned around, having recognized the voice of his best friend immediately. The latter didn't leave him time to speak before almost jumping forward to embrace him.

- Cross ! Où estais-tu ?!

Blue cried in relief, asking his friend where he had been. Cross hugged him back, relieved too to see him as he sighed, grateful for his help with the other knight. Blue had always been here when he needed help, Cross didn't know if he deserved him, but he was so happy he was here. Now, what could he answer to his question ? Where had he been ? He didn't know for sure, he had been in another time, in another place, with other people from other places and other times, but where had it been exactly ? What could he say for Blue not to think he went crazy ? Would Blue even think he was crazy ? Probably not, he never looked down on him for any reason. He would explain everything to him later, for now they needed food.

Cross let go of him after a few seconds to turn to Killer who was waiting, knife in hand, looking between the two knights.

- Killer, mon amic Blue, Blue, mon amic Killer.

The two skeletons looked at each other, "amic" sounded like "amicus" so Killer assumed it meant friend. Was this knight a friend of Cross ? Judging by how he hugged him, it was highly probable. Blue seemed quite surprised but also excited to meet this new friend as he turned to Cross for more talking that Killer didn't understand. He put his knife away in his bag, and waited for Cross to finish, quite pissed that he didn't have his bag of bread anymore.

After a few minutes, Cross turned to Killer, signing to follow him.

- Omnes.

Everyone, he said, they had to go back to where everyone was, and so Cross lead them both out of the town. Cross's house was farther away, probably too far to reach before the night, but Blue had offered to help them get food and clothes, he knew a little inn that would let them stay for the night for free, the owner was a good friend of him, they would stay and go to Cross's place the next day, once in clean clothes and with full stomachs.

Cross was quite happy, he would get to introduce his new friends to his very best one, and they would eat in a warmer and dryer place than the woods. All would be well, he hoped.

He wanted them to have a good time in his time.

[spookyrea]

Been a While Since I've Held Anything

When a picture of Loki's soulmark goes viral, his mood takes a dramatic turn. He's moody, rude, and trying to ingratiate himself to you in bizarre ways. Maybe it has something to do with the anonymous love letter you sent him while trying to build up the courage to tell him how you really feel. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that your soulmarks match.

Chapter 1 / 3 - read on AO3

A soulmate-identifying mark AU - no warnings, though epilogue will contain smut

Dear Loki, you wrote. You’re vile.

The picture was uploaded to Twitter on December 12th at exactly 3:43 pm. It was terrible quality, taken in a dimly-lit bar. Loki’s head was bowed to hear his brother over the din, his hair drawn up for all the heat in the packed bar. A perfect storm of circumstance to allow his shirt collar to ride low on his shoulders, exposing the elegant slope where his neck met his spine - and about three quarters of his soulmark. 

Loki’s mark was a delicate thing. Twenty-two dots of varying sizes, curved in a crescent shape along the top of his spine to disappear into obscurity. It was a shape so familiar that you could have traced it blind – because it was also yours.

I don’t have the words to describe how you make me feel. You make me feel stupid. You frighten me. 

Someone like him left the public particularly susceptible to match hysteria – a phenomenon where infatuated individuals became convinced they were a match despite the obvious fact that they weren’t - and within a matter of hours the Avengers Tower was inundated with love letters. Pepper immediately benched him to the auxiliary rota, essentially dooming Loki to a few weeks of house arrest until the fervor could die down.

I hate your mouth, and your hair, and your eyes. Everything about him made your skin ache, ultraviolet hot like a sunburn. On a good day, Loki was charming; on a bad day, he could bring countries to their knees with a smile. On the rare occasion that that attention had been turned on you, you understood keenly why he was called Silvertongue – it was difficult to remove yourself from the fantasy that he might be interested in you when he leaned in so closely, spoke with such intimate conspiracy in his voice.  I hate how vulnerable you make me feel. 

You hoped that, by getting the awfulness of lovesickness out on paper, you could eventually begin to draft a real love letter. Something to slip through his mailslot alongside the deluge of adoring fans. He would never read it – Loki had made his thoughts on the public’s “meagre attempts at poetry” quite clear. (Though that didn’t stop his preening at the absolute magnitude of letters - and how each one seemed to raise Tony’s blood pressure just that little bit higher).

Yours,

You signed the letter with your name and slid it into a nondescript envelope for the formality of it all, sealed with a lick to the underside, and tucked it away in a junk drawer to be forgotten about.

You would write a dozen more love letters. They would range from sweet to obsessive, pouring onto paper every ounce of affection you felt. You fought gods and monsters and would-be bank robbers; if you could survive having your solar plexus shattered and four-weeks of bed rest, you could mail off one silly letter confessing that your coworker made your brain go fuzzy.

You eventually picked one and mailed it off -- anonymously -- along with your heart and every anxiety you had ever owned. 

(You almost believed it when you told yourself that this put you one step closer to actually telling him to his face.)

You would find that very letter in a drawer, seven weeks later. Untouched. Unsent.

“Look alive, agent.” Steve knocked you with his shoulder. He was too big for the backseat of the smart car you’d rented at the airport, meaning he had to crane his neck to avoid hitting the roof on every speed bump. “Simple extraction mission: escort Loki to the cargo, he’ll do his little magic trick, and we’ll be warm and on our way home before Santa comes.”

Steve wasn’t particularly devout; he didn’t go to mass on Sundays, and he swore like a sailor and drank twice as much (to little effect), but he took Christmas incredibly seriously. He had been compiling lists of possible presents for months and, despite the team running the gamut from Muslim to Jewish to Literal God, everyone would be getting a gift tomorrow morning.

Loki, though not as broad as Steve, was also suffering in the backseat to your right. His legs were folded ungracefully in the meager space behind the passenger seat, twisted to press up tightly to yours. There was nowhere to run between Steve and Loki, so you had to endure the terrible pleasure of the weight of Loki's thigh against yours for the entire ride.

It made the soulmark on the back of your neck burn. You wondered, as Clint took a turn too hard and Steve's weight forced you into Loki's side, if Loki felt that same itch. If the dots scattered down his back also sang whenever your hands brushed.

“Here we are,” Loki growled. The car rolled up two blocks away from your destination - a bank where an artifact said to be able to “control the minds of the weak-willed” was being stored in a safety deposit box. According to FRIDAY, the artifact was warded with a powerful magic that would unwind all but the most powerful sorcerers at the seams.

 (It’s just energy, Tony had grumbled, give me a few days and I can figure it out. 

Loki, with a terrible sneer, responded: Or you could just let the expert handle it.) 

You were there to provide backup should the plan go South. Your super-strength meant you could go toe-to-toe with most armed guards, holding off the worst of it until Steve, Nat and Clint could come to your rescue.

“Shall we, pet?” One of his gloves hands laced through yours. “Try not to get us killed, hmm?”

“What are you going to do about your,” you waved your free hand in front of your face.

His seidr sighed, crossing over him with a light hand; his features didn’t change (same sharp nose and cock-sure smile, though maybe a touch more gaunt) but his hair shortened and lightened to a pale auburn. He fixed you with a doe-eyed stare, dark brown eyes peering up through a fan of pale eyelashes; his attention – preternatural in its intensity – lit something inside of you that made you nervous, made you shy. Because despite the pale hair and the dark eyes, despite the freckles – it was still Loki. Still the most devastating smile you had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

When he spoke, he laid on a thick accent - Brooklyn, maybe. “Who would ever suspect me now?”

Your crush on Loki was basically public knowledge on the team; you could hardly stand to be in the same room as him some days because of how embarrassed he made you feel. It dissolved all human poise and reduced you to animal instinct, it seemed, because every time he turned to you at a party, or at breakfast, or in the backseat of a quin-jet in the early morning hours, you lost any ability to form full sentences and found yourself blinking cow-eyes at him until you could excuse yourself. If your avoidance bothered him, Loki never commented, but he did make an impressive effort to lord over as much of your attention as possible. Rare was the occasion when Loki was not teasing you, or asking after you, seeming to revel in your infatuation.

“Of course,” he continued. “My real soulmate would be able to recognize me based on shape alone. Which is demonstrative of how ridiculous the entire farce is, anyway – it took a picture for these souls to finally realize I was their match? Laughable. I have spent aeons tangling the threads of lovers – why should I trust the Norns to be kind to me?”

Loki stepped out of the car and hauled you along behind him. “Rest assured, pet – no number of pretty things claiming that my heart belongs to them will ever draw my eye. They are but window dressing in my already magnificent life.”

His mark was a heavy iron weight on the back of your neck. “That’s a terrible accent,” you blurted out.

His smile dropped away, affront evident in the way his nose tipped upwards; there was a lingering static charge to him, and you could feel his seidr humming in your back teeth. In his regular voice, he said, “I thought it was alright.”

“No one from Brooklyn talks like that.”

“Well, maybe you’ll appreciate it more once you see the accessories.” Loki drew from thin air a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, which he adjusted to sit high on his nose. “Don’t you think they make me look scholarly? What a gentleman.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. 

“What? You don’t like it?”

“I don’t think I have time to like it. We need to move, now.” A job was at least a welcome distraction; despite the way your skin crawled when Loki looked at you, you could narrow your attention to the work at hand. 

Loki conjured an armful of paper bags for the two of you, masquerading as a pair of Christmas shoppers. He ushered you into the bank with a hand on your back before stepping into his charming persona, plastering on the widest grin you had ever seen.

Getting into the bank vaults was easy enough; Loki prattled on about honeymoons and pre-nuptials and getting your valuables in order to a clerk who was clearly quite taken by him. As soon as she left the two of you alone in the back room, Loki leapt into action.

“Tony said we were looking for–”

“I know which one it is.” With a snap of his fingers, the security cameras overhead sizzled and drooped.

“How long do you think it will take them to notice the cameras are down?”

Loki’s seidr pried the door off one of the safety deposit lockers like it was made of plastic and not reinforced steel. “If they’re not completely incompetent? My guess would be a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, then.”

“You do that.”

You watched him work with a certain kind of love in your eye, admiring the outline of his profile as he unknotted the ropes holding the cargo together. It had been swelling, some sweet thing, in your chest now for some time – your match, it would whisper, growing frantic by the day, you were meant to be!  

If only you could get over the fear; the fear of rejection, of ridicule, or worst of all – patent indifference. The idea that Loki might look at your neck and not laugh, not sneer, but merely shrug, repeating his disinterest in letting fate choose for him.

“Pet,” he drawled. “Are you going to help? Or would you prefer to stand there and glower all day?”

You leaned backwards into the hall, craning your neck to see if anyone was coming. “I don’t glower.”

“Glare. Sneer. You may pick any synonyms you wish. Now, fetch me the gauntlet from my bag before we’re discovered and I have to invent some new ruse to whisk ourselves off to safety.”

He said it all with a scowl. It was rare to see him smile as of late; he seemed to follow the team around the tower like a perpetual storm cloud, sticking his nose into business he had no right to be implicated in; making snide, snobbish comments whenever possible. You imagined it had something to do with his soulmark being revealed; despite his boisterousness, he was a quiet, private sort when intimate details were concerned. He would prefer to keep the public - even his friends - at an arm’s length, lest he need to extricate himself quickly. 

To have something so personal broadcast so carelessly – well, you were sure it was chewing at him.

You handed him the metal glove, which he strapped around his wrist and forearm with a medical precision. His seidr hummed with each tug of the fastenings, speaking in hymns too old for you to understand. A startling quiet overcame Loki’s expression, before he flicked his wrist, conjuring sparks of green at his fingertips, and slowly sank his hand into the packing material in the box.

“You feel any different?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Please. This is child’s play compared to some of the tricks I played on Thor. I’m not sure I even require the gauntlet, honestly.”

Despite his lofty attitude, dread needled at your ribs. The box gave off a similar energy as Loki did, something that smelled like sea salt and ozone, and the two competing forces were making you feel a bit nauseous. If he needed help, you wouldn’t be much help – it would tear you in two without an afterthought – so you could only trust that he had it under control.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m going to die.” Terribly slowly, Loki twisted his arm and began to dredge the artifact up from its packing material. “Have some faith.”

It was the strangest sensation; as soon as the gauntlet - tech that Tony had drafted to interrupt other forces from interacting with Loki’s seidr after a nasty run in with a witch - was removed, you felt a sparkling, smacking kiss on your temple, as if to placate your anxiety. You glanced around but found no potential source of a draft.

“Are you playing some sort of trick on me?”

Loki shot you a glare. “Why would I do that?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

He didn’t deign to respond. The two of you abandoned the safety deposit box the clerk had pulled out for you as well as most of your pretend shopping bags and began navigating the halls at random, trying to find an exit in the unfamiliar layout. It was pure luck that the holiday meant the building was understaffed; you somehow made it to a fire exit without being accosted, though you could hear the beginnings of a commotion picking up now that the dead cameras were being discovered.

Beyond the fire escape, there was a familiar flash of blue-and-red as Steve swept past the bank, the brim of his baseball cap pulled low enough to hide his face from an unsuspecting crowd. You threw your shoulder against the door, which dented with a grating crunch. An alarm began to wail overhead.

“You coming?”

Loki’s grin was repugnant and bleeding innuendo – the most attractive thing you’d ever seen, really. “I hope so.”

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“I’m afraid you make it too easy for me to tease.”

Loki shoved the artifact into a bag (not trusting it off his person in some pocket dimension or another) and then the two of you tried as surreptitiously as possible to blend into the sea of Christmas shoppers.

“Howdy, agents.” Steve tapped you with his elbow, the only physical acknowledgement of your presence. He kept his eyes faced forward, a calculated disinterest in his pursed mouth; if you didn’t know him so well, you would almost believe him to be talking on the phone through some hidden earbud. But then he glanced, side-long, at you and managed to convey everything you needed to know: you’ve been compromised, a car was coming, survive until then.

He grunted. “You got everything?”

You were not nearly as adept at subtle communication. “Yep. No issues.”

“One issue,” Loki growled. His hand curled around your elbow and yanked you backwards just as a convoy turned the corner, crawling down the snow-heavy street. Steve veered right, crossing the road with his shoulders pulled high; you would have made to follow if Loki hadn’t elbowed you aside, out of the sight lines of the convoy, before slinking off ahead. You watched his bright red hair melt into the crowd – and then a great boomerang of green light rocketed off a lamppost, giving you just enough time to scurry down an alleyway and through a chainlink fence.

Loki’s seidr hung heavy in the air, swelling like a thunderstorm. Even as you put one, two, five blocks between yourself and the bank, you could still hearing is humming in your ears; headlights on parked cars would spring to life without prompting; window displays would glow radium-green in your periphery. You had no doubt that Loki was having the time of his life causing a distraction… though you worried what the consequences of too much fun might be if his disguise was discovered.

You kept walking. The city began to recede, thinning out to apartment buildings and stretches of public park lawns. There wasn’t much room to hide out here; you turned a random corner and tried to retrace your steps from a couple of blocks over.

Panic brushed up on you like a hungry stray when another glossy convoy rolled down the road, close enough for you to make out the heavy brow of an enemy agent behind the wheel. You tamped it down and tried to gather your bearings, searching for a street sign – anything that might allow you to collect your bearings. You crossed a road and hurried into an alley; maybe you could climb a fire escape and get to higher ground to await extraction.

A hand closed around your hip, yanking you backwards. You startled, half turning, fists raised to defend yourself, when a staticky sensation licked up your cheek in greeting.

“You’re like a skittish cat,” Loki growled. His fingers pinched the same spot that his seidr had touched you. “Is that what I should call you? Kitten?”

Your heart tripped over itself. “Rude.”

“I can be ruder.”

“Do you know where we are?”

Loki curled, his body one long line of crooked confidence, around you, tipping his head to speak in your ear. “Absolutely no clue.”

“Okay.” The closeness made you a little dumb. You blinked at him, admiring the way the snow caught on his pale eyelashes and didn’t melt. Though his skin felt warm, almost humanly-so, it must have been an illusion. Just one more layer of pretense, like how he and Thor blinked less frequently than normal people, or the strange cadence they adopted when speaking in private. “Do you think your seidr gave you away?”

“Maybe.” 

You weren’t sure why you were whispering. “I hope that disguise of yours is good enough.”

“Not even my soulmate would recognize me, kitten.”

Loki followed you with a hand fisted in the fabric of your coat; the streets were wild, requiring you to dart around passersby at random intervals, and it was safer to stay in pairs than to break off on your own. Occasionally, you thought you caught sight of Steve or Natasha, but neither you nor Loki was willing to stop moving to check. You walked a complicated knot, turning at random, ducking into department stores like every other couple on Christmas Eve. This close, you could hear his seidr rumbling, that tinny sound bouncing off of telephone poles and street lamps in his excitement. 

You eventually found some quiet in a side street a few blocks off the main drag, tucked between two apartment blocks with plenty of exit strategies. You leaned against a short fence, pausing to catch your breath. “You can let go of me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Loki vanished the shopping bags he had been holding in both hands. “I’m not touching you?”

As he blinked back at you, you felt the distinct impression of five warm fingerprints soothing over your lower back. The twinkling sound returned, followed by a humming in your molars that betrayed the presence of magic. “You’re sure about that?”

You expected some snide comment or witty response, but Loki’s head only titled. He raised a finger to his lips; his eyes were narrowed, cast to the side as if to focus. A wave of green light glanced off his hand; the air around you warped and bent like a mirage, just in time for a silver drone to zip by over your heads.

Your breath felt a little thin. “Good catch.”

“I have some decent qualities.” A pause drew on between the two of you. “If we stay like this… we should be able to avoid detection.”

You shifted your weight, leaning ever so slightly away in order to calm your racing heart. This seemed to upset Loki; the phantom hand on your back wriggled, urging you deeper into his personal space.

This close, you had little choice but to admire the shape of him. There was a military poise to him, a rigidness to his shoulders that gave the impression that he was wearing heavy plate-armour and not a wool coat. 

“Why red hair?”

“In your myths, I’m sometimes depicted as a red-head. I might have worn this version once or twice on my excursions as a youth.” He eyed you strangely. “Come now, kitten. Do you like what you see? This new Loki, he’s– sweet. He’ll even hold doors open.”

It was different, definitely – the light hair made him seem softer somehow, younger maybe, and he had topped the disguise off with a smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose. It sent a secret thrill of delight through your chest when, upon closer examination, you discovered the shape of his soulmark scattered among them. Like fingerprints and tree rings – something innate, a secret coded in his DNA.

“Hmm…” You tried to feign nonchalance. “I think I like my usual Loki better.”

His mouth tipped up in one of those rare smiles, the quiet kind where the creases beside his eyes kissed, the slightest curve of shyness in his slanted brows. His hand, which was trailing a lazy path up and down your forearm, circled your elbow and gave you a squeeze. “Your Loki?”

“Our Loki,” you corrected. “Loki-Loki. You.”

“I could be anything, really. It’s all an illusion.” He drew you in by the sash tying your winter coat shut. You had a sneaking suspicion that, if you wore pigtails, he would be tugging on those too. “You seem to like this version. You certainly talk to it more. So come now, tell me – what is this version of me like? This fair-haired gentleman.”

“He’s nice, I guess.”

Loki nodded, his eyes fixed on your mouth. “I could be nice.”

“Nice?”

“Mhm. I can be anything at all.”

The streetlamps overhead sighed in the presence of magic. Loki’s seidr was a living thing swelling in the space between you; you felt it like a phantom mouth over yours, sliding over your skin, adoring and exotic. It seemed to thrill Loki, who leaned in even closer, his pale eyelashes fluttering, heavy with snowflakes and the weight of an almost-kiss.

“It doesn’t really matter what disguise you wear,” you mumbled, turning your face to the side. A car ambled past the mouth of the alley, digging deep wells in the snow. “You already know you’re hopelessly handsome.”

“Careful now,” Loki said quietly. “It almost sounds like you’re starting to like me.”

You scoffed – understatement of the century. When you gathered the courage to look back at him, Loki was frowning.

“I do like you,” you said quietly.

“You have a very strange way of showing it.”

“I like… how clever you are.”

“I like how I feel when you look at me.” Even in a moment of vulnerability such as this, Loki watched you like a wild animal. His hand walked a lazy path from your elbow up to your bicep. His eyes tracked the entire journey until he reached your shoulder, where his hand flattened and ghosted up the curve of your neck, so the tips of his fingers laid across the highest notches of your spine. A sigh escaped him, unbidden, coloured with a flush of wanting. An ardent sound. “ Ketlinkr… Kome nhér. Kis kis kis kis…” .

Softly, with a tentativeness you didn’t know him capable of, he closed his lips over your bottom one. A great tenderness swept over you; though both of his hands stood still, curved around your sides, a phantom sensation whispered over your neck, your temples, your cheeks, giggling in tiny, electric bursts, as if Loki’s emotions had spilled over and been animated by magic.

“In my most lecherous dreams, as of late, it’s my mark on your neck. Did you know that?” He drew himself closer, a slave to some innate gravity, and pressed his next words into the clammy skin where your pulse thrummed. “Do you ever think of me like that?”

It was half innuendo and half heartbreak. There was attraction, definitely, burning a hole in your skin where his hand was drawing a complicated figure-eight over your shoulder. But beneath that, sticky and nefarious like tar, was a desperation for validation. 

His lips slotted against yours again, firmer this time, at such an angle that the tip of his nose dug into your cheek. Strange magic welled, pooling in the hollow between your ribs – matched, you matched! 

You pulled away without finesse, sputtering. Loki followed as if to silence you, lurching, just missing your mouth to kiss the corner instead. “Wait– wait, stop,” you started.

Loki snatched himself away, his expression tense. “I can be nice. I have been nice, as of late.”

You were still a little fuzzy, disoriented by the kiss; your blood seemed to be rushing backwards, pumped out through your veins and back through your arteries. “What?”

“Do you really loathe me that much? Not even a new face can sway my – my vile image?”

“I feel left out of this conversation. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“You don't look at me.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, vanishing the red from it to wisps of smoke until his natural hair colour returned, startlingly dark against his pale skin. “You turn your face. You find excuses to leave the room. You don’t do that with anyone else.”

You tilted your cheek to hide the heat creeping up under your skin. “I don’t turn away.”

Loki crowded up against you, taking your face between both his hands and manoeuvring you to look him in the eyes, green eyes, the glamour forgotten. Frustration carved a deep line between his brows; he opened his mouth as if to barrel on – before a self-deprecating laugh rushed out of him and he sank back on his heels. “There are hundreds of creatures pouring their love for me through my mailslot and I’m out chasing the one woman who wants nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not–”

“What’s not fair is that when I’m a perfect gentleman, you look away. No matter what face I put on, or how docile a creature I become, you slink off like you don’t trust me. I’m good. I have a purpose.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “What do I have to do to prove myself? Perhaps you’d prefer it if I prostrated myself on the ground?”

“I don’t not like you. I never didn’t like you.”

“I frighten you.”

“Yes!” You chewed on your lip. “Of course you do.”

He walked you backwards, a dangerous energy roiling in the air between you. Cold brick bit into the small of your back where it brushed the strip between your jacket and your jeans. “I can be anything. I’ve been many things, worn many faces. I’m good at it. Good at pretending. Just tell me how to act.”

“You frighten me because I like you.” You stumbled over your words in a rush. “Because I’m attracted to you.”

The phantom mouth was back; his seidr slid up the column of your throat, whispering a staticky sound just under your ear. “Because you don’t want to be.”

“Because we–” You cut yourself off. For all your waiting, for all the days spent agonising over how you wanted to tell him that you were soulmates - this was not how you wanted it to go. It was a hollow confession. “Because we match.”

His terrible expression stilled. It was a particular cruelty to reveal it in a moment such as this, but what other reason could you have given? It was the truth, plain and simple: you matched. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, then raked the same fingers through his hair. “I see.”

“Loki–”

“Bendr. The Asgardian word for soulmate. It translates to ‘wound’. Our ‘mortal wound’.”

“That’s morbid.”

Loki laughed. It was not a nice sound. “It’s true though, isn’t it? A soulmate is only one more flaw in my armour to have to account for. It– norns, this hurts. ”

Loki drew from thin air a piece of paper. One of the innumerable love letters he’d received, written on green parchment. Crinkled, weakened in the middle from how many times it had been opened and then refolded. 

"What is that?"

"You," he said gravely. "Wrote me a letter."

Your stomach twisted; you had written him a letter, but you were certain you hadn't signed it. It was all complimentary, though maybe a little over-the-top. You'd waxed poetic about his smile, and his sense of humour, and how every time he looked at you you felt like your heart was learning to beat all over again.

“Dear Loki,” he began. “You’re vile.”

It wasn’t a love letter – or at least, it hadn’t had the chance to be. Too embarrassed by your feelings, you’d struggled to put into words anything other than despair. You couldn’t conjure up clauses to any of your statements - you’re vile in a way that makes me laugh. Handsome in a way so infuriating that I can’t help but steal glances. Terribly witty. 

“... I hate the way you make me feel. I hate your mouth, and your hair, and your eyes….”

It wasn’t a love letter, yet Loki had kept it all the same. Folded and unfolded it. Ruminated on your poor opinion of him.

“A cruel joke,” he continued. “I thought you were shy, at first. I thought – I thought, perhaps, that I could charm you with jokes, or with some severe attentiveness. You're so skittish... Maybe I could prove I was worth the hassle, or… Make you see – I’m not sure what. I haven’t changed. I’m exactly the same insecure bastard that I always have been.” He winced. “And then I read your note.”

“I must’ve written a dozen letters.”

“All equally as eloquent, I'm sure.”

“I didn’t mean to send that one. The one I wanted to send was nice.”

He laughed - hollowed out. “We match.” 

“Loki…”

Tires crunched over fresh snow; a dark green jeep pulled up at the end of the alley. Loki took one step sideways, inserting himself in between you and the car, before his shoulders bent and drooped under a sudden weight. Natasha leant out of the driver’s side window, a knitted cap balanced on top of a mop of red curls. “Morning, strangers. You wouldn’t happen to know the way to the airport, would you?”

Strange magic – that's what people said about soulmates. It’s that strange magic. Like disappearing car keys or an extra spoon in the cutlery drawer. It was strange magic that placed that letter in front of Loki. Strange magic that hummed and chewed at you now, watching Loki fold himself into the back of your getaway car. 

Fate wasn’t kind to Loki, and it definitely wasn’t kind to you.

You didn’t leave your room all morning. Curled up in your bed, you traced the photo of Loki’s mark with your fingers and wondered at the mess you’d made. 

Loki had left you a letter the day following your return; he’d made himself scarce after, and seemingly bribed FRIDAY into refusing to disclose his location.

Thor and and I were born with star maps across our backs. On Asgard, this meant that we were destined to fight side-by-side. Thor was born with your Midgardian Ares – the ram. His letter began.

Mine Ours is one of Asgard’s constellations. Canavirna-hundr - the beast. 

He had included a drawing. You weren’t aware that he could draw, but it would later occur to you that he was thousands of years old, and so likely had mastered every art form to exist. A huge creature with sharp ears and the saddest eyes you had ever seen, outlined by the curve of twenty-two dots.

There was a wolf more beautiful than any other. A wolf with fur like seafoam and eyes as black as the darkest night. Hunters from every corner of the galaxy coveted her – but she was quick, too quick for even my father Odin to pursue. He chased her for three days and three nights by following the tracks left by her mate, Canavirna-hundr, a hulking beast too large to ever catch up. But love makes fools of even the most graceful creatures, and she slowed her pace to allow him to catch up.  

At dawn on the fourth day, when her mate finally fell in step, Odin struck. Blinded by guilt that she slowed her pace for him, Canavirna-hundr leapt ahead and let the arrow pierce his heart instead of hers. Moved as they were, the gods put him in the sky to watch over her 

The constellation pictured was your soulmark – yours with a capital Y, belonging to you and Loki. Twenty-two dots of varying sizes, the largest at the farthest point on the left.

This was my favourite of the constellations as a child. I fancied myself a hero, to one day be memorialized in the stars next to my brother. I wondered - what would be my legend? When generations referred to Loki, the constellation - would I be exalted for love? 

It doesn’t exist anymore – none of them do. Destroyed by Ragnarok. Like my friend Atlas, I carry a little piece of my planet everywhere I go.  

I’ll stop pretending. Maybe one day I won’t frighten you any longer. 

Yours, 

He didn’t sign his name. But then – he didn’t have to. You would know the impression of him anywhere.

[best-seungkwality]

morning conversations gone wrong (or right?)

pairing: roommate!hazel callahan x female!reader

contains/warnings: college!au drabble (is this considered a drabble), fluff, kinda ooc hazel?, not proofread bc again, my mantra is live fast die young bad girls do it well

word count: 1k

author's yap notes: this has been sitting in the drafts for the longest time ugh i hope it's cute bc i thought it was cute bye i love this prompt for hazel and supposedly ruby's tslocg character ash. also, happy new year <33

would like to give credits for the dividers: © saradika, magnusthemes here in tumblr!

The air outside the sorority house where the party of the month was held was cool, carrying a hint of morning dew that left one's skin tingling. It was 6 am already, and all the partygoers were either sprawled out somewhere in the house or stumbling over to a nearby store or home.

You were, amusingly, the latter.

Hazel walked a little ahead of you, hands stuffed in her jacket's pockets, posture quite stiff. She was always like this whenever she was nervous about something, and right now, you knew why.

"You didn't have to fetch me and walk me back, Haze," you slurred, leaning on the lamppost for a short break when you started getting dizzy. She raised an eyebrow at you, smiling at the irony of what you just said.

She waited for a while for you until the two of you could start walking back to your shared dorm again. She glanced back for a moment, slowing down so that you could keep up. "Could've fooled me when you almost fell into the punch bowl when I arrived."

You held up a finger, "Okay, that wasn't my fault. It got in the way when I was dancing!"

Hazel snorted, probably unable to hide it at how ridiculous you sounded, but didn't say anything else. You could feel the small smile playing on her face that she hid from you. It made your chest feel tighter than any alcohol could ever affect you.

You two continued to walk in silence for another block, the familiar tension increasing between you until the time came for it to snap. She kept avoiding your very obvious stare, looking anywhere as long as it wasn't you. That was when you stopped, running to the middle of the road, declaring, "Okay, that's it."

Your roommate froze, spinning around, and you saw confusion flashed across her face. "What are you doing? Come back here!"

"Nope!" you huffed and crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the ground. "Not until you tell me!" The alcohol was really making you too bold and playful for your own good.

Hazel started to go closer to you, nervousness obviously replacing every emotion in her features. "Tell you what? C'mon, y/n, get back here!" The pink blush creeping up face betrayed her, and you knew she knew what you were talking about. Even the pitch of her voice had gone slightly higher.

"That you like me!" you said matter-of-factly. "I'm not moving until you stop beating around the bush and confess!"

She blinked a couple of times like you had just transformed into an alien. You only gave her a silly smile when she asked, "Are you serious?"

"I'm not moving, am I?"

The street was empty that Saturday morning, and you could tell Hazel was thankful for that at least. The streetlights had already closed, giving way to the warm, natural sunlight enveloping the surroundings.

She then took a hesitant step toward you, brows furrowing, but you held your ground. She shakily reminded you, "You're drunk." She wanted to be firm with you, but there was a slight waver in her tone that she couldn't hide from you at that moment.

You cock an eyebrow in response. "I'm drunk but not stupid— and I'm still certainly aware!" You pouted at her small, skeptical frown. "Okay, maybe a little less aware than normal— but I know when someone's into me! The way you act around me says it all. You're not exactly that subtle."

Hazel finally let out a hand and ran it through her hair, another nervous tic you had memorized by now. She walked towards you and reached out, trying to coax you to go back to the sidewalk. "C'mon, n/n, let's go. I don't want you to get hurt."

You didn't budge once again. "Not until you admit it~"

She groaned out load, putting her face in her hands. "Why does it even matter?" she called out, a bit frustrated based on the redness of her face that cold morning. "You're drunk; you won't remember this when you wake up."

"I like you, Hazel," you suddenly told her, catching her off-guard.

You two stayed silent again for some time, unmoving, even when a motorcycle had passed by, beeping at you. Her shoulders visibly slumped, and for a second, you thought she was going to deny once again, skirting around the truth like she always did. But then, she looked at you, as if staring past your eyes and straight into your soul. Her expression was soft and vulnerable, in a way she had never let you see before.

"Fine," she whispers, closing the distance between the two of you, "I like you, okay? I've liked you since the day we met at the dorms. You're so nice and random, and you accepted me and introduced me to a new world. I like it when you steal my hoodies, but you know I would punch someone else who would do that. Ever since our moving in day, you've been the best part of every day in my life, which scares me so much because I don't wanna mess up what we have. You're also one of my best friends now..."

Your heart skipped a beat, not expecting that kind of confession. It was cold outside, but the heat from the adrenaline and your adoration for Hazel made that disappear that completely.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" you teased, but voice softer to assure her that it was out of affection.

Hazel rolled her eyes, but you knew there was no sarcasm behind it when you saw her familiar giddy smile. "You're so insufferable, y/n."

"Yet you like me~" you sang, holding out your hand this time for her.

She smiled, taking it and lacing your fingers together, "Are you done being dramatic now? Can we go?"

"I'm good now," you told her, planting a soft peck on her cheek.

Hazel shook her head, a bigger smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible. Thank goodness I like you."

[biteofcherry]

hello! advanced happy new year to you! 🎉 for the new year's eve babe lottery may I have one (1) Mr. Ari Levinson, please? thank you so much I hope you have a nice home celebration and a fruitful year ahead! 🩷

[@still-scribblin - don't mind me! just tagging my writing sideblog hehe]

✨✨✨

That's it. You were going to do it. Totally.

You gulped down the flute of sparkling wine then promptly refilled it.

Usually, you weren't one to be looking for stress regulation through booze, but you needed to knock down your reservations. Or at least lower your stiff guard.

You had so many hopes and unsaid little resolutions for the new year. One of them was about throwing yourself in the deep when it came to relationships.

You decided not only to try out dating apps, but just to give chances to experiences. Even if said experience was only one awful date, or a forgettable one night stand. You wanted to feel and to get yourself out of the comfort zone.

And what better way to start than on New Year's Eve?

A kiss at midnight would be the perfect beginning.

Ari Levinson would be the perfect man to do it with, too.

He was a friend of a friend, with whom you occasionally got to talk to if said friend invited you both to the same gathering. As they did for the New Year's Eve party.

You didn't have a crush on Ari, but you liked him. He was definitely very easy on the eyes and if the kiss led to something more, you wouldn't regret it a bit.

Downing another glass of wine, you took a deep breath and made your way toward the front where people were already taking their places along the row of windows to watch the fireworks burst in the sky when midnight struck.

Purposely, you sneaked into a spot beside Ari. He glanced down at you, flashing you that panty melting smile.

You beamed up at him, then returned your gaze to the display outside the window.

People were counting down aloud. You felt your heart hammering faster and harder. Just a few more seconds.

As they screamed "Happy New Year!" you turned on your heel. Before you allowed any logic to stop you from doing it, you grabbed the collar of Ari's shirt and pulled down, going on your tiptoes at the same time.

You crushed your lips into his, feeling the graze of his beard against your chin.

At first he stiffened against you, undoubtedly surprised. Then one of his arms weaved around you, a strong, confident grip that held you pressed to his front. His other hand cupped the back of your head and held you in place as he deepened the kiss.

It wasn't just a spontaneous midnight kiss from which two strangers could pull away laughing.

He made you moan into his mouth and melt into the unexpected possessive demand.

You were sure Ari was a great kisser, but to be honest you always imagined him as someone more playful and sensual in the way he kissed.

When he finally pulled back, after getting a fill of your taste, you let out a soft "Oh," to which he responded with a low, deep chuckle.

"Happy New Year." He murmured, though there was something different about his voice. "May I know with whom I'm starting it?"

Your eyes flew open at the teasing, yet soft comment. It instantly became obvious why Ari's voice sounded off.

Because it wasn't Ari.

It took you a few seconds of staring at the handsome face. He had a beard, just like Ari, though trimmed in a more elegant way. His dark hair was cut much shorter than Ari's, but they looked invitingly soft.

With dread and embarrassment, you recognized your friend's boss. Andy Barber.

[alicefromwhichplanet]

What are each of the couples love languages? What are some of the ways do they pamper their partners?

Megop

Optimus: Oh, wow. It’s… not an easy question. *scratches his helm* When we first started dating, we realized that we both love watching the stars. We could sit outside together, under the starlights, and talk for hours. We talk about our past lives, interesting things happened around us, or our opinions on literature…anything that helps us get to know each other more, I guess that is one of our love languages.

Megatron: And don’t forget about the sparring.

Optimus: (laughs) Oh yeah! Sparring is a unique way for us two to express love. I’m not sure if other cross-fraction couples do that. But we love to “fight” a little bit, from time to time, to feel the adrenaline rushing, and to be reminded of how perfectly we match each other, in strength and battle skills as well. Often happens in the evenings too, we spar against the starry sky as a background. (Laughs)

Megatron: little lovely episode before going to bed. (Smirks)

Optimus: (blushes) I didn’t say that!

Optimus: And for the pampering… for me it’s “act of service”, I guess. I know what he loves very well. I know he likes reading books on politics and social issues, by rather radical writers. And compared with him I got more connections with the human world. Humans have such inexhaustible knowledge reservoirs on such topics! So sometimes I get one of those books for him and put it on the coffee table where he usually starts his day by reading. Or the nightstand on his side.

Megatron: I wrote you poems. And when he passed out reading on our coach, I carry him into the bedroom and put a blanket around him.

Optimus: (blushes) Yes, you know I love that. And your poems.

Blitzbee

Blitzwing: Oh! One thing I loooove to do with my Beeboi is playing! We play every interesting game! Chess, hide and seek, racing in the wilderness! And my favorite game! Flying and free-falling!

Bumblebee: I hope you’re not talking about the time you threw me off mid-air!

Blitzwing: I didn’t mean to, it was an accident!

Bumblebee: well, at least I’ve found a way to make sure that next time you don’t make mistakes like that. (Pulling at the leather straps around Blitzwing’s chest, while Blitzwing lets out a little “oh” sound)

Bumblebee: As you can see, one obvious way for Blitz and I to pamper each other is playing with each other. Or else, we talk as well. Even when we don’t have much to do, we talk nonsense together, laugh at silly jokes, etc.

Blitzwing: That’s mainly you! Because you’re a blah-blah-blah beeboi! A buzzy, buzzy bee… (Blitzwing begins to sing).

Bumblebee: (rolls his eyes) Shut up, Blitzbrain! Well, yeah, nicknames, that’s another love language of ours. (Laughs)

Striklug

Strika: Well, we’re actually very simple bots. Except for wars, there’re very limited things for us to do… You all know Lugnut has a… challenged language system and intelligence, although I hate to talk about him like that in front of you. It was caused by an accident in his early years as a miner. Megatron tried his best to save him. I don’t want to talk about his past traumas… Anyways, what I’m saying is, Lugnut is always generous with compliments. Not only to Megatron, but to me. Sometimes he embarrasses me in front of a lot of bots. But later I realize I like it. That’s just Lugnut pampering me, I guess. (Laughs)

Lugnut: General Strika is the most intelligent, most brave and generous bot I’ve ever known. She’s a great fighter of our decepticon cause…and my personal guiding star. She’s the pilot to our family’s ship, only with her guide can we reach our destination…

Strika: (pushes Lugnut away) Enough, enough, Lug. (Turns to the camera) And Lugnut’s good at cooking as well. Both me and our girl love to have his specially seasoned energon cubes. For my part, I am a rather dull bot. All I do is to stay by his side, help him deal with situations he’s not good at. We used to cooperate perfectly as revolutionary buddies. Now we’re cooperating quite well too as life partners. That’s all I want to say.

*Thanks for your wonderful questions*

* applaud*

[peachhcs]

i love your wonder years works!! i feel like you write young and pining will and samy sooooooo welll 🫶🏽 would love more of them and their friends in highschool they are so cute - (i just reread the jealousy blurbs). you are so talented 😊!!

aww wait i’m so happy to hear that bc i loveeeee writing the wonder years so much and i always feel like people don’t like it as much 🥹🥹 anyways you ask and you shall receive!!

i feel like most of the pining happens senior year because that’s when both of them have feelings for one another so here’s new year’s eve 2022 in samy’s basement where she has a bunch of people over to celebrate and her breakup with kevin is still somewhat fresh but will’s feelings are at an all time high (and so are samy’s!!)

warnings??: underage drinking, will lowkey being a perv by looking at samy constantly but like not because he’s also a 17 year old with a huge fat crush on his best friend

au masterlist

will seriously shouldn’t have come to this because how was he supposed to stay away from samy on new year’s eve with alcohol in his system knowing how good she looked standing five feet away from him, but she just broke up with kevin not that long ago and will was pretty sure it was really wrong to drunkingly make out with her like they sometimes did because she just went through a breakup.

he was so fucked.

the blonde tried keeping his eyes on gabe and drew where he stood with them talking in their small circle, but the urge to look over at the brunette was so much stronger. too strong. he peaked a glimpse and every time his breath hitched in his throat and his brain short circuited for a good five seconds when his eyes traveled the expanse of her outfit. her, marcie, lauren, and riley had a mix of similar outfits on, something they planned. will’s gaze was trained on her black mini skirt that was reused from halloween and her shiny, sequined long sleeve top where he could totally see her black bralette underneath.

he needed to stop looking. he was being weird and creepy and someone was definitely going to clock him on it if he didn’t quit it, so the blonde tore his gaze away again and tried focusing on the words leaving drew’s mouth.

“honestly, i think we’re gonna win the whole thing,” the taller brunette mumbled taking another sip of his drink.

will was pretty sure they were talking about u18 worlds in may. “i mean why wouldn’t we? we’ve got the best lines, the best defense, the best players. we’ve got nothing on them,” gabe listed off on his fingers.

the other thing will couldn’t shake from his mind was that kevin was here. samy still invited him since they were still friends and will knew he didn’t really have anything to worry about with him anymore, but he just couldn’t really shake the feeling of all three of them being in the same room knowing how tense things used to be. kevin was on the other end of the room talking with his soccer friends, very oblivious to will’s erratic heart beat and racing thoughts.

“i need another drink,” will muttered because he couldn’t focus on what his friends were talking about and he also just wanted another excuse to walk past samy and check her out without being too obvious.

he squeezed past her and she happened to look at him as he passed. she flashed a wide smile at the blonde and his knees almost gave out seeing that smile directed at him.

“you having fun?” she turned to talk to him for a second.

“yeah, this is great,” will nodded, forcing his eyes to stay on her face.

“i’m glad!” she turned back to her friends leaving will to continue to the drink table.

he mulled over his options when he got there wondering which one would maybe help him forget the feelings he had and make him remember that samy was strictly his best friend and would never see him as something more than that.

he hoped the high noon would do the trick.

“hey,” the voice snapped the hockey player from his thoughts. kevin stood beside him, eyeing the drinks too.

“hey?” will wondered what he wanted.

“maybe i just see it more now that samy and i aren’t together, but you’re really obvious,” kevin said.

“what?” the blonde was caught off guard.

“come on, man. it’s so obvious you have a thing for her. you’ve been staring at her for the past like..hour,” kevin laughed and will’s face flushed hot with embarrassment. was he really that obvious?

“well she doesn’t like me. she never will,” will took a large sip of the high noon to wash that thought away. he didn’t notice the way kevin grimaced because he actually did know how the soccer player felt, but he wasn’t that shitty to tell her secret.

“i mean how do you know that? you’ve never asked,” kevin said instead.

“you really think i’m gonna go up to her and ask? real funny, man,” never in a million years would will put everything on the line to ask samy if she liked him the way he did.

“i dunno. what’s it gonna hurt?”

“our friendship?” that felt like a given, but kevin just shrugged.

“all i’m saying is that i think everyone at this party knows you like her.”

“why are you being so nice to me? i thought you hated me,” will found this interaction weird because him and kevin have never been able to talk to each other like this.

“i’m just trying to make up for being shitty to you. trying to help is all,” the brunette mumbled and walked away before will could respond. he pinched his eyebrows together, watching as kevin went back to his friends in the corner.

what he didn’t know was that samy had been watching their entire interaction. as soon as kevin approached, her eyes were on the two like a hawk. she knew her and kevin were fine and he promised to leave will alone, but she still worried he’d get set off and do something stupid again. surprisingly, nothing happened and maybe kevin was gonna chill out from now on.

“you’re staring again,” marcie mumbled when she caught her friend’s eyes on will’s back. samy quickly snapped her attention back to the group.

“sorry,” the youngest hughes blushed.

“this is totally your chance. he’s been staring at you all night,” riley poked.

“no he hasn’t. you’re delusional,” the brunette shook her head, never believing her friends when they started saying stuff like that.

“i’m being serious! he totally thinks you look hot at least,” riley continued meaning samy’s outfit. all the soccer play did though was shake her head.

“he’ll never see me like that.”

“what about all that shit him and kevin argued about? wasn’t that about you?” lauren piped up.

“kevin says a lot of shit. will and i are just friends,” samy mumbled, drinking the rest of her “tropical, fruity” punch as marcie liked to call it that was just a huge mix of different chasers and vodka.

“i could not be friends with someone that i kiss when i’m drunk,” lauren shook her head, but samy quickly shushed her.

“shut up. we don’t talk about that,” her and will hadn’t even done that since summer because of her thing with kevin.

“i can’t wait for the day you two finally put your pride aside and realize how much you like one another,” marcie mumbled.

“i’m getting another drink,” samy determined because she desperately wanted to escape the conversation and will still hadn’t moved from the drink table.

she shuffled her way over there and leaned her head on will’s arm. “found you again,” she looked up at him with a smile.

“hi again,” the blonde chuckled, but internally he was freaking out.

“can you pour me so more punch?” samy pointed to the big bowl and held her cup out. will nodded.

“are you having fun at your own party?” he wondered

“i’m having a blast. best new year’s party don’t you think?” she wondered and will nodded again. he handed her cup back, unable to stop his gaze from dropping below her face for a split second to stare some more.

“i don’t think i’ve been to one as good as this,” the blonde admitted because he hadn’t really been to a party like this before. being in michigan with samy meant that she introduced him to a lot of random house parties her high school friends were throwing on the weekends.

“i’m honored. you flatter me,” the youngest hughes giggled.

that urge will’s had all night only got stronger standing so close to samy. he wanted to kiss her so bad, but he had to think better of it because he wasn’t a rebound and they were drunk (not like that’s ever stopped them before though).

“found anyone to kiss on new year’s yet?” samy teased and will flushed.

“i haven’t. have you?” he asked and hoped she would say no because will did not think he’d be able to handle it if he saw samy kissing someone that wasn’t him.

“nooo, i probably won’t kiss anyone. i’ll kiss my myself,” the girl giggled, the alcohol starting to talk for her.

“self-love is very important,” the blonde smiled hearing her little laugh and then took another big drink of the high noon because he couldn’t be having these thoughts.

if will had any new year’s resolutions it was that he needed to stop believing he had a chance with samy. maybe in 2023 he’d finally find someone that would get his mind off of her. (wrong)

“guys, it’s almost midnight!” someone yelled and then everyone turned their attention to the tv stream of the local ann arbor news that did their own countdown.

samy grabbed will’s hand to the tv so she could see better. the boy flushed feeling her hand in his and even worse when she didn’t let go.

“ten, nine, eight, seven..”

the countdown faded out of will’s ears because the only thing he could focus on was the girl beside him jumping with excitement about the new year. she squeezed his hand tighter when they got closer to 1 and everything in the hockey player was short circuiting.

“..three, two, one! happy new year!” the whole basement erupted in cheers as everyone jumped onto one another in excitement.

a few people kissed because of the alcohol buzzing through their systems and will was caught off guard again when samy jumped into his arms screaming in his ear.

“happy new year!” she smiled widely and will couldn’t help but smile back.

“happy new year,” he said and his stomach flipped when he watched her gaze drift down to his lips briefly. was he seeing things or did she actually do that?

he didn’t have time to question it because samy jumped towards her friends before he could even say something. will watched her hug marcie, lauren, and riley when his friends went over to him. they excitedly jumped onto his back and the boy because immersed in their excitement, the thoughts of samy almost kissing him leaving his brain as he celebrated with the boys.

[f4iry-bell]

WISHING ON GRAPES

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson's car stopped at a random party where he meets reader.

taglist: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @cassie6392 @objectinthemiracle @stargirl0479

a/n: hey guys!!! I'm sorry i haven't posted in a while 😭. I'll try to post all the reqs soon, and happy new year!!!

masterlist

Grayson left the small party that Jameson and Avery threw for new year's eve after 20 minutes. He drove around trying not to think about how it felt for him to just stand there all alone while everyone around him had someone. He couldn't take it anymore, he was happy for his brothers for they have found love but when will it be his time?

He was clueless of where he was going, he just drove around wherever the road led. But after sometime he realised that he was low on my petrol. He was hoping to find a station to pump some but it was too late as his car stopped somewhere he didn't know. He decided it would be better to get out, and call someone to pick him up but his eyes were fixed on the place he was. It looked like an entrance of a garden, decorated with fairy lights. He could hear music coming from the inside. It was obvious that there was a party going on inside. But it wasn't like the party that Avery and Jameson had, this one is filled with strangers. Something had pulled him in, his legs started to march forward.

Once he was inside he was immediately the odd one out like always because of his attire which isn't ideal for a new year's eve party. Ignoring that, he made his way towards a table on which drinks were placed, there was no bartender, no bar. No caterers, or anyone to help. He poured himself a drink, it was a bit foreign to him because how the place is just so simple. He was about to move away from the table but he heard a thud followed by an ‘ouch’, crouching down he pulled the table cloth above to find a girl sitting down there holding a box of what looked like grapes with one hand while rubbing her head with another.

“Are you okay down there?” He asked with a frown.

“Yeah, I didn't spill anything above, did I?” She asked, turning to him.

“No, you're good.” He answered, still so confused. Maybe she's anti-social.

“Okay, cool.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again with a deeper frown. “Pardon me, but why are you sitting under the table?”

She looked at him as if he asked a silly question when she was the one who was sitting under a table at a party. “Box of grapes, 20 minutes until new year, table.” She said that as if it's supposed to make sense.

“I still don't get it.” He admitted.

“Oh my god. Get in here.” She motioned him to get inside.

He didn't move.

“Buddy, you're wasting my time to think about what I want. So get in here, or go away.” Her hand waved inside once more.

Grayson reluctantly got inside, a part of him was curious.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it's a belief that if you eat 12 grapes at midnight on new year's eve you'll find love, happiness, et cetera. You know? Each grape is for each month of the year.” Her eyes were wide with excitement when she explained it.

“You believe that?” He asked. His immediate thought was that this is another silly thing that people came up with to make new year's eve exciting like the kiss.

“Of course! I mean, it's my first time trying, but we'll see. I have extra grapes you know? You can have some.” She offered him.

“I'm good.” He sighed.

“Well, you're no fun. You're already under the table, it's almost midnight, you have grapes—”

“I don't have grapes.”

“I'm offering you grapes.”

“I don't want it.”

“Just try.”

“Why?”

“Because! Nevermind, stay a loser then.”

Grayson scowled. “Just because I'm not participating in a silly tradition, doesn't mean I'm a loser.”

“It won't hurt you to eat grapes, you know?”

“Fine, I'll have them.”

“YES!!”

He scoffed at her excitement. Before either of them could fill in the awkward silence they heard people counting numbers in descending order from 10.

“It's time!!” She shook the box of grapes.

Grayson couldn't have imagined anything that happened within the last 30 minutes, his car stopping right in front of this party, him finding this strange girl under the table, accepting her grape and certainly not pulling her closer when the chant was ‘5’ and kissing her at ‘1’.

It was unexpected, it was like his body was working on its own without telling him.

When he pulled back, he expected her to push him outside, or take back her offer but she opened the box. “Let's eat before it's late!”

He didn't realise that his heart was racing until it calmed down. He smiled, and grabbed one grape from the box to wish.

[ihfmseatsoch]

go ahead and ignore it if it makes you uncomforatble, ill get the hint

but uummmmmm maybe something from jimmy's pov where he finds a girl at the bar, gets her drunk, has sex with her, and chokes to death? corpsefucker jim is my hyperfixation rn not gonna lie

aaaa sorry this took a lil while ! ive been sick and very sleepy

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 2.2k

warnings/content: dead dove, noncon, coercion, manipulation, choking, murder, necro, jim being misogynistic

—

It was almost embarrassing, how easy some women are. At least their willingness to spread their legs for any man that came their way made it less of a hassle to get in their pants, Jimmy thought.

Pussy is pussy, no matter how you get it, or how many men have had it before you.

That's why he's not very particular when it comes to choosing some trashy whore to spend the night with. Looks, of course, is the main factor he pays attention to, but that's about it. Doesn't matter if she's annoying, unwilling, or bitchy; he'll never see her again, anyway.

He takes interest in a young girl sitting in the corner of the shitty bar he regulars, a drink in her hand and an aura of innocence surrounding her. She's alone and out of place, eyes darting around the room like she's overwhelmed by all the different noises, and the pungent scent of alcohol pervading the stuffy air. Plus, she's not bad looking, pretty by any standard.

Could the opportunity be any more perfect?

Jimmy gets up from his barstool and approaches her, leaning against the counter, a little too close to her for comfort, not that he gives a fuck about how she feels in the first place.

"Hey. You alright?" He feigns concern, "Ain't never seen you here before."

She has the demeanor of a frightened rabbit, ready to scamper away at the slightest sound or sense of danger. The girl's got pretty eyes, he notices, as she looks up at him with apprehension. He bets her daddy at home warned her about all the dangerous men that want to take advantage of a sweet thing like her. Jimmy almost pities the man that raised her.

She explains that it's her twenty first birthday. Ah, so she's one of the ripest on the branch, it seems. That's how he likes 'em. The younger, the dumber. Her friends are already plastered, throwing up in the bathroom. In harsher words, she was ditched.

Jimmy pretends to feel some kind of sympathy for her situation, while he's already coming up with a plan on how to steal her away and tarnish her purity.

"Your friends are a buncha assholes then. They just leave you high and dry like that?"

With a shake of her head, she smiles a little, already looking at him with complete trust. "They're usually nice... just not when they're drunk, I guess." She defends the very people that selfishly abandoned her. He can tell this won't be hard for him at all.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" He asks, a little too sweetly for someone with such vile intent.

It's obvious a man has never spoken to her like this. Flirtatiously. Her flushed cheeks give away that she's either a virgin, or just very inexperienced. Cute. She tells him her name, but if he's being honest, he forgot in about five minutes. Her name doesn't hold much significance to him, anyway.

Introducing himself was the first step. Now, onto the second. Buy her a drink. Alcohol will loosen her up nicely.

"What kinda drink you want? I'm buying."

She orders something sweet and fruity. It suits her. He flags down the bartender, hoping the drink is strong enough to give her a good buzz. In other words, easier to take home.

When their drinks are ready, he clinks the rim of his glass to hers. "To your first legal drink." He says, his smile deceptively warm, tipping the glass back and downing the whole thing in one go. She takes a little longer to drink hers, drinking in small, irritatingly cautious sips. That won't do. He doesn't want to be here all night.

"You're doin' it wrong," He invasively grabs her wrist, "C'mon, you gotta drink it all at once."

He guides the glass to her lips, coaxing her to take his advice. He watches her hesitate, before she mimics him and swallows it all down in one gulp, wincing as the tart liquid burns going down her throat, the flavor lingering on her taste buds.

Jimmy is a more than pleased at her obedience.

"There ya go. Atta girl." He praises, intentionally making her feel proud of herself so she continues to crave his validation and listen to his every word. He orders a round of shots, moreso for her than for himself. He needs to be sober enough to drive her back to his place, after all.

Jimmy intently observes her as she takes shot after shot, becoming increasingly more drunk. She's a giggly one, blathering about every thought on her mind. Jim nods and hums absentmindedly, not having any interest in actually conversing with her.

"Alright, I think you're done for the night. Time to get you home." He pulls her up off the stool and wraps an arm around her waist to support her weight.

Confused at his sudden insistence on leaving, she places her hands on his chest, stopping him from dragging her any further. "N– No, I'm good! I can handle a little more..." Her words slur, eyes glazed over. This will be a little harder than he initially thought. He has to repress the urge to roll his eyes.

"You can barely walk. C'mon, I'll drive. You'll thank me in the morning."

To her drunken mind, what he's saying makes sense. "Oh... M'kay." She mumbles, too intoxicated to question how he knows where her house even is, and in truth, he doesn't, but he's not taking her home.

She's going to his.

Jimmy keeps a tight grip on her as he leads her out of the bar towards his parked car. She's stumbling the whole way and leaning against him far more than she should. "Whoa, whoa. Careful, now." He says, though it lacks any sort of real concern for her well-being.

The drive back to his apartment feels longer with her babbling to him about pointless stories that he can hardly comprehend because she's recalling every event out of order. Jimmy has to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at her to shut up. He'll get plenty of use out of her mouth soon enough.

"Yeah, yeah. That's great." He says absentmindedly as she babbles on. He makes a show to listen, adding an occasional hum or wordless response to her ramblings, but he's only focused on getting her to his door. Finally, he parks the car and cuts off her incoherent chattering. "We're here."

It took her until now to realize she's not where she's supposed to be. "Umm... That's not my apartment." She points out, as Jimmy helps her out of the passenger seat, grabbing her arm to lead her along with him, leaving no room for her to protest or pull away.

"I'm takin' care of you tonight. Can't leave you home alone, you'll end up doin' something stupid." The way he lies without flinching is convincing enough to the inebriated woman, allowing him to drag her to his floor, and into his home.

The interior is messy, empty liquor bottles and cans laid on various surfaces, not excluding the floor, either. Half-smoked cigarettes fill an ashtray on the coffee table, a variety of trash littered in every corner. He won't bother cleaning up, of course. She's not here to judge how he lives.

"Sit." He gestures to his ratty couch. Jimmy speaks more like he's ordering her, rather than offering her a place to rest out of the kindness of his heart. She obeys nonetheless, collapsing onto the torn cushions. Fortunately, she can't properly notice the filth with double vision. Unfortunately, she doesn't know what she's in for.

He sits himself down next to her, too close, invading her personal space. He takes her chin in his hand and tilts her head around, studying her. "You're a pretty little thing, ain't you?" His arm snakes around her shoulder, pulling her close against him.

Lacking her usual judgement and reflexes, she let's him run his hands all over her, albeit confused as to why he's touching her like this in the first place. "Uhh... My boyfriend's not gonna like you doing that..." She tells him, inarticulately.

Jimmy laughs dryly, "Aww, your boyfriend wouldn't like it? And where is he if he cares about you so much, hm?" He lets his hand continue downward, tracing the curve of her ass. She recoils slightly, much to his displeasure. "I don't think I should do this..." She attempts to back away from him, but his grip is stuck firmly in place, her body forcibly pressed to his.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disappointment, "And here I thought you were a good girl. I've been so nice to you, haven't I? You should be thanking me." He gruffly tells her, his fake compassion long gone.

Jimmy pushes her to her back carelessly rough, grabbing her wrists in one hand to pin them above her head. He utilizes his free hand to pull her skirt up, bunching it at her waist. Thankfully, she's too stupid to fight back right now, her mind barely processing what's happening to her, unable to understand the danger she's in.

He takes two fingers to rub her pussy through her underwear, feeling her clit twitch at the contact. She squirms ineffectively, trapped under him. "N– Nooo..." She whines, kicking her legs weakly, yet despite her resistance, her slick begins to dampen the fabric. He hums in satisfaction at the sight of her body betraying her.

"If you don't want it, why's this little cunt all wet for me?" Jimmy pulls her underwear to the side, uncovering her glistening folds, spreading them to get a better look at her. She whimpers, ashamed that she's enjoying the way he toys with her pussy, as if it's not even attached to a human being.

He pinches her swollen clit just to watch her jolt. She attempts to close her legs, but he pins down her thighs with his knees, trapping her under his weight and keeping them spread apart. "You're not gettin' away from me," he grunts, "Not after I've put in so much effort gettin' you here."

Jimmy unzips his jeans, slipping his cock out through his open fly. He's already hard. He's been hard since the moment he finally got his hands on her. He runs his girthy, flushed tip up and down her wet slit, making her whine every time he repeatedly nudges against her rock hard bundle of nerves.

"Y' like that, huh? You're all the same once you get a bit of alcohol in your system. Just a bunch of cock hungry fuckin' sluts." Jim presses into her hole without warning, eliciting a gasp from her at the sudden intrusion. "I'll tell you what, though," he hisses through his teeth, "You've got one of the best holes I've ever felt."

Jim rams into her, his pace already relentless, and he's only just begun. Her body jerks at every brutal thrust, the sound of his heavy balls slapping rhythmically against her ass, along with his heavy breathing and the occasional grunt filling the room. "That's all you're– shit– good for though, isn't it? This little pussy's the best thing you've got goin' for ya."

Both his hands find their way to her throat, squeezing uncomfortably tight. She tries to wriggle her way out of his grasp, or at least into a more comfortable position, but he firmly holds her down in place, supporting more of his weight directly onto her windpipe. She tries to gasp for air, claw at his arms and shoulders to get him to stop, but nothing works. Ice cold fear washes over her body when she realizes she can't breathe anymore. She can't even scream at him to get off of her, let alone speak.

"Sorry bout' this. I was tired of your fuckin' whining. You don't mind, do you?" He chuckles lowly to himself, leading her to believe that this is what he wants. He's intentionally trying to kill her. That only makes her panic more as she becomes lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, her limbs weakened and unable to properly writhe underneath him. Not that it'd help her anyway. All she can feel is his hands on her, cutting off her airway, lungs burning and eager for oxygen, and his cock pounding ruthlessly hard into her, bruising her insides.

Even when she falls unconscious and limp, her face turned a light shade of blue, he doesn't stop. "Better finish up while you're still warm, huh?" Jimmy huffs, fucking into her like he hates her, although he has no real reason to. "Cold pussy doesn't sound very appealing."

She's much more likeable when she's dead, he thinks. Quiet, laying there like an obedient little doll, her only purpose being to take his dick. He's not sure if she's actually dead yet, but taking the time to check her pulse doesn't exactly cross his mind.

He finishes inside her, a deep growl ripping from his chest, hot spurts of cum filling her hole to the brim. He finally removes his hands from her throat after he catches his breath, a ring of fresh, fingerprint shaped bruises around her neck. She's not breathing, her eyes still open, wide with the same fear she felt before he killed her. Jimmy pulls out of her with a sigh, like she's inconveniencing him by being dead.

"Fuck. You're gonna be a pain in the ass to hide, ain't you?" He grumbles, lighting a Newport and taking a long drag. "There's a... forest or somethin' a ways away from the city. That'll be a good spot for ya."

Jimmy himself is unsure if he's speaking aloud to himself, or the lifeless corpse laying on the couch beside him.

—