#IM NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN IF I CAN HELP IT

[sleeplessdove]

— twist the knife

♡ ghostface! e. williams x fem! reader

synopsis: just how much cruelty is your girlfriend capable of?

a/n: old fic while i work on vampire!ellie stuff …

warnings: DARK THEMES! - toxic relationships, murder, death, im serious she is on a killing spree, masked killers, name calling, mocking, tormenting, ellie & r! are in college, fighting, verbal arguments, breaking and entering, crying, begging, threats of violence, many of said threats are carried out, pet names, knife usage, blood, hair pulling, falling, smacking, a gun again who else is shocked, forced affection & apologies, r! gets eaten out, fingering (r! receiving), mentions of love cause why not, gun fucking ... guys im sorry, blackmail, photos with a lack of consent, and lots more !

wc: 9.6k

Even with the calm sound of the leaves rustling from the light breeze, you couldn’t help but continue to look back over your shoulder to ensure that no one was behind you. 

It was a nervous habit you had picked up after the murders began in your small town. You felt as if there was no amount of caution that would protect you from the psycho killer that was brutally ending innocent lives. 

The thoughts had flooded your mind so much that you had momentarily forgotten your girlfriend was right beside you, her fingers interlaced with your own as she carried out her usual routine of walking you home after classes were over. 

Your head was still turned back so that you could observe the people walking behind you, only being met with the sight of a students who you had seen around campus a few times. Ellie must have been trying to get your attention for a while, as she finally waved her hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 

“Jesus fucking christ, I thought you were listening to me that whole time. Did you hear anything I said?” she questioned, a light chuckle leaving her lips despite her harsh words. Your eyes widened in the slightest when her voice finally reached you, flinching momentarily since you hadn’t expected the sudden sound. 

Ellie quickly snapped her head back in the direction you had previously been looking in, her brows furrowing to convey her confusion before looking back at you. “You’re acting like we have a stalker or something. Do you know something I don't?” she asked in her usual joking tone, your body relaxing in the slightest from how at ease Ellie seemed. 

“M’ sorry for not listening, I’m just a little scared— you know? All the people who have been killed are people we knew” you mumbled, lowering your gaze towards the orange leaves that were scattered all along the sidewalk. Ellie couldn’t stop the light scoff that passed her lips, almost seeming too relaxed despite the fact that you were absolutely right. 

“We didn’t know them that well” she added swiftly, a slight smile creeping onto her lips before she spoke once more. “Plus, it's not all bad. Classes are canceled till those dumbass cops can figure out what the fuck is going on. And considering the fact that they only know what costume the killer is wearing, we probably won’t have to worry about classes for the rest of the year” she blurted without the slightest bit of hesitation. 

It wasn’t unlike Ellie to be so sarcastic but you couldn't shake the nerves that were flooding your body, a small frown appearing on your lips despite her attempt to ease the tension. “S’ not like they’re gonna be missed anyways. Those jock assholes got what was coming to them. Shit, maybe we should be thanking ghostfa—” she began, although her words never managed to connect in your mind. 

You were far too distracted, as you had finally looked up at Ellie only to notice the slightest bit of blood seeping from a small gash that was covered by her hair. “Oh my god, what happened?” you questioned in a worried tone, your brows knitting together as you let go of her hand so you could try to observe her injury. With careful movements, you pushed her hair back only to find that the wound was far worse than you thought. 

There was a purplish hue surrounding it, dried blood having collected into the roots of her auburn hair. You couldn’t understand why you hadn’t noticed it earlier, only being brought out of your thoughts when Ellie pulled your hand away from her face ever so gently. “S’ nothing serious, baby. Just got into a little disagreement with someone yesterday” she muttered in a careless manner, trying to play it off as smoothly as possible. 

It wasn’t as if it was the most incomprehensible idea, as Ellie was known for her short temper and rather aggressive approach to resolving issues. However, that didn’t stop the small pout from appearing on your features, your eyes still lingering on the cut as you spoke. “You told me you were going to stop getting into fights” you huffed, not taking hold of her hand before you continued to walk in the direction of your home. 

Ellie was quick to follow after you, catching up to you before you could get too far from her. “I said I would try to stop getting into fights. There is a big difference” she retorted, wrapping her arm around your waist before using the back of her free hand to wipe off the smallest bit of blood that had dripped down her forehead. You only rolled your eyes at her words, grumbling a soft “whatever” in reply. 

The two of you had finally reached your home just as Ellie was about to make another excuse, and you were already pulling away from her so that you could make your way inside without her. Ellie wasn’t having any of that, pulling you back rather roughly so that you were facing her. “Can I come over later tonight, bun? I was thinkin’ maybe we could watch a scary movie together” she muttered, attempting to make you forget the fact that you were upset with her. 

It didn’t work all that well, as you shook your head quickly at the request. “Not tonight” you sighed, squirming in the slightest from how tightly she was holding you. Ellie didn’t seem pleased with your reply, her sweet demeanor dropping completely as a frown took the place of her previous smile. “Why not? Are you seeing someone else tonight?” she questioned in an accusing manner, her grip only tightening as you tried to get her to ease up. 

“No— I am not having anyone else over tonight” you scoffed, looking at her with an unamused expression. “I already told you that my parents are gone for the whole week and you know their rules” you began, only to be cut off by a low groan leaving Ellie’s lips. “No having your girlfriend over after dark” she mocked the rule your parents had made up the minute the two of you began dating, her voice making her irritation evident. 

You shot her a quick glare but nodded your head nonetheless, watching as Ellie tried to find the right words to convince you to just disobey your parents this one time. “How would they even know? Promise I won’t tell on you” she said with a cocky smile, as she had lied to your parents faces countless times after helping you sneak out at night to come over to her place.

 “I can’t take any chances after they caught you coming in through the window last week, Els. They still have me on house arrest for that” you whined in reply, not wanting to fight with Ellie about this any longer. 

Ellie’s reaction was anything but sweet, as she rolled her eyes and finally released the hold she had on you rather carelessly so that you stumbled in the slightest. “I don’t fucking get it— you’re in college and they treat you like you’re still just a kid” she grumbled, not at all pleased with the fact that you always insisted on following their rules. 

Your eyes narrowed at her words, a small sigh leaving your lips as you took in Ellie’s annoyed expression. You usually made an effort to not bicker with her over small things but she had been frustrating you more than usual as of late. 

With the way she was constantly ignoring your calls and clearly lying about what she had been doing these past few nights, you knew something was up. You were just as upset as she was and you should’ve bitten your tongue and shoved it down as you usually did, but you just couldn’t. 

“Not all of us can do whatever we want to, Ellie. Don’t try to give me shit just because you don’t have anyone back at home to give you rules to follow” you spat without thinking, your eyes widening the moment the words left your lips. 

It had been almost a year since Ellie’s only father figure, Joel, had been killed, the case never being solved which had left your girlfriend with a massive sense of resentment towards everyone and everything. She rarely opened up about it to you, but you already knew how much it ate away at her. 

It was a low blow but it was all you had in that moment. You just wanted to shut her up or maybe just piss her off enough that she finally explained her strange behavior. Despite your nervous expression, you stood your ground and offered her no apologies for your words. 

Ellie had momentarily gone silent— her lack of response putting you on edge as you awaited her reaction. People continued passing the two of you by as you stood in front of your home, the soft buzz of their conversation sounding far away due to the deafening silence Ellie had left you with. 

Her previous expression already showed her irritation, but once your words finally set in it changed rapidly. A little crease appeared between her brows, her breathing suddenly becoming uneven as she looked down at your unremorseful expression. 

It was a strange sight, as Ellie was always quick to find some hurtful reply to hit you with before you could even blink. She leaned back for a moment as if to take you in before moving in closer, her nails digging into her own palms as she clenched her fists at her sides. 

Your body was tingling with nerves, your eyes darting around every inch of Ellie’s infuriated expression. Her stare alone filled you with guilt and you tried to finally push some sort of apology out, but she was quick to cut you off. 

“You are such a fucking cunt” she spat, the disgust in her tone so prominent that you felt beyond humiliated. Over the course of your relationship with Ellie, you had grown accustomed to her outbursts. Whether it be calling you names or her picking a fight with you for absolutely no reason— she always found a way to piss you off. And yet this time it felt so different, as you had never dared to talk back to her before. 

Ellie backed up after she spoke, her piercing gaze tearing you apart so that you were left feeling embarrassed and exposed as you stood before her. “You always pull shit like this. Someone needs to teach you to stop running your fucking mouth” she said in a low tone, not even giving you a chance to reply before she started walking away from your home so that she could get back to her own. 

For a moment you acted on instinct, taking a small step to follow after her. You snapped out of it after you moved, only letting your eyes trail after her as she moved away. On any other occasion you would have pleaded for her forgiveness, but you were done with putting up with her constant shifts in mood. 

It felt as if you weren’t even in control of your body as you moved towards your home, unlocking the door with a blank expression on your face while your mind ran rampant over how Ellie had spoken to you. She had reacted differently than she usually would, as she had a tendency to raise her voice just to prove a point. And yet, she had kept an eerily calm demeanor as she spoke down to you. 

Some part of you wished she would have yelled or made some sort of empty threat, as her quiet reaction left you feeling nauseous. You knew dwelling on it wouldn’t make it any better, a soft huff leaving your lips as you dropped your bag on the side of the couch so that you could lay down. 

You turned on the television to have some background noise while you checked your phone, the news playing quietly as you fought with yourself on whether or not to text Ellie. Your thumb hovered over her contact, a frustrated groan leaving your lips before you shoved your phone between one of the couch cushions in an attempt to keep yourself from even thinking about speaking to her. 

Ellie was the one who had started all of this— not you. She was the one who had been disappearing for hours on end with pathetic excuses as to where she had been. You didn’t owe her anything, even if you had momentarily slipped up and said something hurtful. She had said absolutely vile things to you countless times and you never reacted the way she did. 

If she really wanted to fix whatever the fuck was happening between the two of you, she would just do it. You couldn’t make excuses for her anymore, as you had grown tired of her constant anger. 

You were a bit dazed as you stared at the screen in front of you, the low volume making it hard for you to understand what they were even saying. It was as if your mental exhaustion was manifesting into something physical, as your eyelids were heavy with the need for sleep. There was no way you could be bothered to close the curtains in your living room, your eyes fluttering closed as you continued to think about Ellie. 

Maybe this was for the best— the relationship you shared with her was anything but sweet. There was always something off about Ellie that you couldn’t quite discern and in all honesty, you were somewhat scared of her. You loved her a little too much and you had spent too long making excuses for her.

This whole argument had blown up in your face, and even as you drifted off you couldn’t help but think about how this was beginning to seem like a means to an end. 

-

Your heart was slamming against your chest as you were abruptly woken up by the loud ringing of your phone sounding throughout the dark living room. The only other noise within the space was the quiet hum of the tv, your eyes flickering towards the bright screen to try and focus on what was playing. 

With squinted eyes you read the breaking news title that read ‘GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN!’ in crimson lettering, the vibrant red and blue police lights flashing on screen as they played a live feed of what was going on. 

The sight alone had you sitting up straight, your phone long forgotten as you scrambled to find the remote. You held down the volume button so that you could turn it up, leaning your body towards the TV as the newscasters described the situation at hand. It was hard to make out the words in your sleepy state, your fist coming up to rub the sleep from your eyes as you did your best to listen. 

You could only make out a few words—- a real life horror movie, another tragedy, gruesome, unlike anything we have seen before, and yet another college student has been lost. All of the words sounded strung together and they left you feeling uneasy, your eyes zeroing in on the screen so that you could get more details that would inevitably lead to you being paranoid all night. 

A shiver ran through your body from how cold the room was, your eyes finally flickering away from the screen so that you were looking at the window closest to where you were sitting. The thin curtains moved with the small breeze that was passing through, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. 

Why can’t you remember opening that window? 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing once more, the sudden disruption making you let out a soft gasp. After you realized what the sound was, you let out somewhat of a nervous laugh at how dramatic you were being over the whole situation. 

There had to be an explanation for the window— as you did have a tendency to be rather forgetful and the phone calls were more than likely just scams. 

Nonetheless, you shifted around so that you could shove your hand between the sofa cushions, finally managing to yank your phone out so that you could find out who was insisting you at such a late hour. You were given no satiation to your curiosity, as you were greeted with the sight of No Caller ID instead of an actual number. 

It still provided you with a sense of relief, although some part of you had been hoping that Ellie was the one who had been so insistent on you picking up her calls. You declined the call, as you had seen too many horror movies thanks to your girlfriend's love for slasher flicks— and you refused to end up like those girls who die within the first 15 minutes since they pick up some unknown phone call. 

You dropped your phone back down onto the couch, doing your best to continue to listen to the news report as you made your way towards the window. Your hands were just about to push the window closed but you were distracted by what sounded like footsteps coming from inside your house. The sound made you whip your head back, your breath picking up within a split second. 

Fear was tingling throughout your entire body, your fingertips suddenly feeling numb as they pressed lightly against the window. The sound had disappeared just as quickly as it had come and for a moment you were able to convince yourself that it had just been some sort of hallucination. You had already been a little paranoid after seeing the latest breaking news and it was halloween time— of course you were bound to scare yourself a bit. 

Just as the tension was leaving your body, the silence was broken by your phone ringing once more. You flinched in the slightest from how startled you were, a quiet curse leaving your lips as you discarded your previous task to grab your phone instead. 

It was another blocked number and you momentarily thought about declining it once more, but curiosity was beginning to get the best of you. Against your better judgment, you accepted the call and pressed your phone against your ear. 

“Hello?” you called out in a meek voice, the quiet sound of breathing on the other side of the line being the only greeting when you first spoke. “Who is this?” the voice questioned, sounding somewhat distorted but you assumed it was just your shitty phone service. “Well who are you trying to reach?” you asked in return, settling down onto the couch. 

A low chuckle sounded from your phone, the person who was speaking to you seeming surprised by your question. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you who I’m trying to talk to” the disembodied voice quipped— and for a moment you could have sworn the person's voice was familiar. A light scoff left your lips, far too tired to stay on the phone with a creep who has nothing better to do than bother you. 

“Sorry dude, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Take it easy” you muttered in reply, already pulling your phone away from your ear so that they had no time to respond. You set your phone on the coffee table so that you close the window, your hands slamming down the window harshly enough that the sound of it seemed to reverberate through the eerily silent house for far longer than it should’ve. 

Just as you picked up your phone so that you could head upstairs to get to your bedroom, your phone began to buzz. You were growing frustrated with the calls now, your eyes narrowing as the lack of caller ID made itself known once more. For whatever reason, you picked up the phone once more and you were greeted by what you could only assume was the same voice of the person who was speaking to you before. “Why don’t you want to talk to me?” the voice questioned, their tone sounding a bit mocking which only added to your frustration. “Not a big fan of talking to strangers on the phone” you shot back quickly, your eyes focusing on the stairway that was just a few feet away. 

“There's no way you want to be left alone though” they said calmly, not giving you any space to add another snarky remark before they continued. “I mean, you’re all alone in that big house on the corner. Now that just can’t be safe for a scared little thing like you” they breathed, the words coming out so nonchalant that if you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have missed what was right in front of you. 

Your eyes widened once her words finally set in, your head immediately turning back to look at the window you had closed moments ago. “What did you just say?” you asked in a meek voice, your lips parting in the slightest so you could breathe a bit easier as your heart pounded against your chest. “Do you really need me to repeat myself, princess?” they questioned and this time you knew you had heard this voice before. Their condescending tone was something you had heard countless times, yet who had been the person to speak to you in such a way was barely on the tip of your tongue. 

Within a second of the fear finally taking over every last bit of your body, your finger was roughly pressing against your phone screen to end the call. You dropped your phone back onto the couch as if it was some sort of cursed object, your body seeming to move without your permission as you started rushing to each window you were near to make sure they were locked. It took a moment for you to gain enough courage to peer in the direction of the front door, the lock perfectly in place much to your relief. 

There wasn’t any time to relax, as your phone continued to ring as you moved around your home. It was all too overwhelming, the sound of the television mixing with the sound of your ringtone to create a garbled mess that only added to your already agitated state. You could feel a headache taking form as you practically tiptoed back towards the living room to avoid making an unnecessary noise. 

You knew it was idiotic to pick up a call from someone who practically confessed to knowing where you lived but some part of you was convinced you could still beg them to leave you alone. With shaky movements, you answered the call and backed yourself into the corner of the room so that you wouldn’t have to worry about someone coming up from behind you. 

“It’s a little too late to be making sure the house is all locked up, don’t you think?” the voice began the moment you pressed your phone to your ear, your whole body shaking from the shiver that overtook you. They were in your fucking house— and they were watching you. Before you had picked up the call you had the slightest bit of hope that this person was playing some kind of sick joke, but there was no way they could’ve just guessed what you were doing so easily. “Jeez, you’re already watching my latest hit. You must be a big fan of my work, huh?” they added on, clearly referencing the horrific news story that you had previously been engrossed in. 

Your chest began to heave as they revealed that they were the one person you feared the most, your nerves twisting with your rising frustration to create an awful mix of emotions that tore at your insides. “Listen asshole, my girlfriend is coming over any minute and she will kick your ass!” you lied, practically shouting into the phone although your voice shook in the slightest despite your attempt to sound intimidating. It wasn’t as if the person in your home knew what plans you had for the night, right?

“Oh no, not your girlfriend! I'm so scared” the killer said in a sarcastic tone, seeming completely unphased by your threat. Your brows furrowed at their reply, as you were done being toyed with. You took one final look at your surroundings to ensure there was no ghostly figure that was about to jump out at you before you sprinted towards the kitchen, your gaze landing on the set of large kitchen knives that sat on top of the kitchen counter. 

The space was only lit up by the moon that was shining through the window but you didn’t want to slow down to turn on the lights, your hand reaching for the largest knife and extending it outwards rather clumsily as if it would protect you from the invisible force you were fighting against. “Fuck you” you spat into the phone, already pulling the phone away from your face so that you could call the cops and get the fuck out of the house but your actions were quickly halted. 

“If you hang up on me one more time, I swear to god I will gut you like a fucking fish” they seethed, the threat making your hand tremble in the slightest as you brought the phone to your ear once more. It was as if all those horror movies you watched with Ellie countless times had taught you nothing, as all you could do was stand completely still while every part of your brain screamed at you to run out of the house as fast as you possibly could. 

The moment of silence was filled by the sound of creaking that now sounded as if it was coming from somewhere near you, your breath hitching in your throat as your grip on the large knife tightened. You couldn’t keep up a strong facade any longer, hot tears rolling down your cheeks before you could make any attempt to conceal them. Soft sniffles were all you could offer, as you weren’t exactly sure that speaking first was the best idea after the last words they had spoken to you. 

“Look at you, following my directions nice n’ easy. Your girlfriend must’ve trained you to behave so well” the distorted voice cooed, almost managing to sound truly affectionate. You let out a pitiful cry at the menacing words, the fight between you and Ellie that had occurred earlier in the day filling your mind. If you had just let her come over, none of this would be happening. All you could see was the look of sheer anger that had overtaken Ellie’s features when you had spewed those hurtful words to her and you would give anything to be able to take it all back. Tonight could’ve been spent curled up at her side on the couch with some cheesy horror movie playing on tv but instead, you were living in one. 

You just wanted to hear Ellie’s voice at this moment, to have her tell you what to do to defend yourself. She was always telling you that you needed to be able to fend for yourself but you had never taken her seriously and now you were left with the overwhelming consequence of your actions. The thoughts had consumed you so much that you hadn’t even given a proper reply, although your silence didn’t seem to offend the person on the other side of the phone.

“What? Got nothin’ to say now, baby? I wanted to hear more about that girlfriend of yours but you can’t even speak properly” they muttered in a false tone of disappointment, a small sigh passing their lips before continuing on. “How about we play a little game? If you win, I’ll leave you alone— but if you get it wrong, m’ gonna have to kill you” they spoke in a relaxed tone, making your death sound as if it was going to be nothing more than a chore to them. 

“I don’t want to play any games with you— please, just leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone about this, I swear” you pleaded, hiccups interrupting your words as you continued to cry. You were desperate to stop the tears, as they were blurring your vision further which made it practically impossible to see anything around you as you stood in the dark kitchen. A light scoff sounded from the phone which caused you to jump in the slightest, every little thing now scaring you beyond belief. 

“Well if you really don’t want to play, I’ll just have to kill you. It takes the fun out of it for me but if that's how you want to do it—” the voice began to taunt you once more and you were quick to cut them off, shaking your head feverishly as if they could see you, and in all honesty they probably could see you. “No, I’ll play!” you practically shouted, praying that whatever game they chose would be somewhat fair. 

Your eyes were darting around the dark space around you as if someone would jump out at any moment, your heart beating so harshly against your chest that you were almost positive it would burst through in a few seconds if you didn’t calm down. “Alright, make sure to listen cause I really don’t like repeating myself. There's four closets in your house, so go ahead and guess which one I’m in” they demanded, their confession of being inside already making your blood run cold. 

It was completely unfair to make you think at a time like this, your mind so muddled that you were practically whining at their question. How the fuck were you supposed to know where they were? You knew there was no chance of you making it out alive if you didn’t at least try to guess where they were hiding. It was only a little while ago that you had heard creaking downstairs— or was it upstairs? A frustrated groan left your lips, your shaking hand lowering the knife as you tried to think back to the moment when you had heard it.  

“Upstairs! You’re upstairs in my bedroom closet, the room on the left” you blurted without thinking it through, your eyes widening as you realized you had just taken your life into your own hands. “Ah— so close! But still wrong” they shot back quickly and you were almost positive they were smiling as they spoke. 

You were full blown sobbing now, raising your arm so that the knife was facing away from you once more as you tried to figure out what to do. There was a chance that they were still in the other closet that was upstairs which meant you could hang up on them, call the police, and run like hell before they had the chance to catch up to you. Or they could already be downstairs and there was no time to call the police. You remained silent as the options ran through your mind, the killer never once interrupting your train of thought which you were rather grateful for. 

After what seemed like hours of contemplating every little detail, you took a deep breath in and checked your surroundings one last time. Darkness seemed to consume all that you could see and that only caused your adrenaline to rise further. Your movements were done so quickly that you hadn’t even registered what you were doing until you were ending the call, shoving your phone into your back pocket before you took off towards the front door as quickly as you possibly could. 

You weren’t even wearing any shoes but you couldn’t be bothered to care with your life on the line, the knife you were holding remained in front of you in a defensive manner as you moved through your home. The front door was in your line of sight and it was so close— you could practically feel the cool autumn air that was waiting for you just outside the door. You were so close to being free, your tears continuing to fall but from relief rather than fear. 

This fucked up night could finally be over and you wouldn’t stop running until your lungs gave out on you. All you could think of was Ellie as you reached for the doorknob, already imagining how worried she would be when you told her about everything that happened tonight. Your hand was mere inches from the door, your fingertips barely grazing the cool metal of the doorknob before your motions were disrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. 

The cloaked figure lunged at you the moment they came into view, the sight of the white mask filling you with utter terror as they dragged you away from the door. You were screaming as loud as possible, doing your best to alert your neighbors about what was going on. They were far stronger than you were despite the strength provided by your adrenaline, as they were able to grasp your wrist so that you were unable to make any attempts to swipe at them with the knife you were holding onto. Before you could realize what the killer was doing, they grabbed your phone from your back pocket and slammed it against the ground so that it was reduced to a shattered mess that you were left unable to use. 

You were squirming around relentlessly, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip they had on you. They had gotten you pinned up against the wall to the side of the front door, knocking the last bit of air out of your lungs from how forceful they were being. It had taken an incredible amount of energy for you to finally manage to free one of your wrists from the hold they had on it, although it was devoid of any weapon. 

Your hand raised towards the ghostly mask, half expecting ghostface to kill you right then and there for making an attempt to find out who they really were and yet they made no effort to stop your movements. You finally grasped the bottom of the mask, a pained squeak leaving your lips as their gloved hands dug into your soft flesh to keep you in place. In one swift motion, you managed to pull the mask off completely and you were greeted with a gut wrenching sight. 

“Surprise, baby!” Ellie said in an all too cheery tone, her voice sounding a bit breathy from having to fight to keep you still. Her usually gentle features were splattered with blood, the metallic scent filling your nose due to how close she was to your own face. Her last victim must have gotten her mask off just as she sealed their doom, as that could be the only explanation for how she had managed to become covered in their blood. She must have come straight from her last kill— the one you had just viewed on tv. 

It felt as if your world had just caved in or even exploded, you really couldn’t decide. Finding words after realizing your girlfriend was the one person you should’ve feared the most was a rather hard task, your lips parting countless times to speak and yet no words came out. Your tears had ceased to fall as you took in her slightly amused expression, your shaky hand dropping the mask onto the floor as your mind ran a mile a minute. Despite the overwhelming fear you felt, the sense of betrayal was far too much for you to keep down and it gave you just enough momentum to finally do something. 

“You fucking liar” you spat, thinking of all the times Ellie had insisted that she had simply had her phone on silent or had fallen asleep early when you didn’t hear from her for hours at a time. You had confided in her about the fear you felt about all the murders that were happening in town and she had soothed you each time, insisting that she would be there to protect you if anything were to go wrong. 

All the while, she was the one who had been causing you so many sleepless nights and she was the person who had taken so many innocent lives. A sick smile was beginning to take form on Ellie’s lips after you had spoken and you could already tell she was about to give you some sort of snarky reply. Her grip on you had relaxed ever so slightly since she believed you were too frightened to do anything and you knew this may be your only opportunity to get away from her. 

Just as she was parting her lips to speak to you, you mustered up all your strength to tug your wrist up enough so that your hand that was still gripping the knife could make contact with her skin. You couldn’t reach very far due to her quickly realizing what you were trying to do, a grunt leaving her lips as she attempted to keep you still but she was too late. With a quick movement, you were able to make a swipe at her arm that was still making an attempt to hold you, blood rushing to the surface of her skin within the blink of an eye. 

Ellie released you once the warm liquid began to drip down her arm, instinctively bringing a hand up to cover her wound before she could think about what she was doing. You didn’t wait to get her full reaction, sliding from where she had you pinned against the wall and running as if your life depended on it— and at this moment, it really did. Soft whimpers left your lips as you desperately tried to think of somewhere to hide before she caught up with you, your hand taking hold of the door leading into the garage the second she began calling out your name. 

You hid behind the door, the knife still held tightly in your right hand while you clasped your other over your own mouth. Keeping your breaths quiet seemed almost impossible but you couldn‘t risk having any slip ups. The door was left slightly ajar on purpose, as you needed to be able to see Ellie as she moved throughout the house so you could make sure she was out of the way before you tried to get back to the front door. 

Her cloaked figure was moving slowly, your name leaving her lips tauntingly as she suppressed the pained groans she so desperately wanted to let out. You had managed to cut her fairly deep and the blood soaking into her cheap halloween costume was direct proof of that. “Get out here you fucking coward” she seethed, her head whipping back towards your direction when you accidentally let out a sound of surprise at her loud voice booming throughout the home. 

Your eyes widened at the realization of your mistake, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as if it would make Ellie disappear completely. “If you come out now, I promise to play nice” she lied in a sickeningly sweet tone, her eyes narrowing as she got closer towards the very door you were standing behind. Her footsteps were heavy as she made her way towards you, your eyes beginning to well with tears once more as she got closer. For a moment you couldn’t tell what she was doing, as she had stopped so she could take off the black cloak completely. Wearing only a black tank top and jeans, you could now see that her body was littered with bruises, the gash you had just given her smudging her arm a dark red from her cloak pressing against her skin. 

Ellie had been wearing her hoodies constantly these last few weeks but you hadn’t thought anything of it, as the chilly weather was enough to explain it away. But it explained why she had been keeping her clothes on the last few times she had managed to get you alone, always insisting that she just wanted to make you feel good. She would have you completely bare while she remained fully covered and you had never even given it a second thought. You wished that you would’ve paid more attention to all the signs pointing to her being the culprit, yet there was no way you could have ever guessed that she would even be capable of such heinous crimes. 

After taking in her injured form, you watched her hand move towards her back pocket so she could pull something out. You could see something else that was tucked in the back of her jeans but you didn’t have enough time to get a look at it, as the sound of her switchblade flicking open had you focusing your attention back on her hand that now wielded the weapon. You felt as if the breath in your lungs was being stolen from you, your body backing up slightly so you could press yourself against the wall in the hopes that she wouldn’t see you. 

Just as she was reaching for the doorknob, a noise cut through the silence that sounded like a dish clattering. You did your best to not make a single sound as she turned away from you, clearly believing that you were the one who had made the noise. For a second you believed fate was finally on your side, as one of the dishes in the sink must have slipped just enough to get her distracted. “I’ve got you now” she taunted, swiftly making her way towards the kitchen. 

A quiet breath of relief left your lips once she was out of sight, your hand moving away from your lips so that you could take in a few gulps of air before making any sudden moves. Now that you could no longer see her, you could only assume her position in the house, her footsteps sounding far enough for you to open the door a bit wider. Your eyes darted in the direction of the staircase that was just down the hall, your heart pounding in your ears as you tried to decide if it was actually even possible for you to get upstairs without alerting her. 

You would rather go for the front door but that had already proven to be the wrong move and she would already expect that from you. After a moment of contemplation, you drew in a deep breath that seemed to cause your whole body to shake before you carefully pulled open the door and bolted towards the stairs before you could overthink it. 

You could spot your room as you reached the bottoms of the stairs, your body momentarily relaxing as you continued to rush as quickly and quietly as possible. You were so close— so close to being able to get away from whatever nightmare this was. 

And yet, just as you reached the bottom of the steps, an uncaring hand tugged you back by your hair. The cry you let out was pitiful, your head spinning as you tumbled to the ground. You already knew what had happened but that didn’t lessen the blow of having to see Ellie right above you, using her knee to keep the rest of your body held down as she kept a tight hold on your wrists. 

“You really are a fucking idiot, you know that?” she seethes, her chest heaving just the same as yours is. Crying would be futile at a time like this so you look up at her with nothing but betrayal and resentment. “Fuck you” you seethe, although your words only make her smile brightly. “Aw no, baby. We already played that game, remember?” she asks teasingly. You hated her more each time she opened her mouth and you wanted nothing more than to smack that stupid fucking smile off her face. 

“W— why are you doing this?” you ask abruptly, your eyes scanning her features for even the slightest bit of regret and yet you came up empty. The question makes her scoff, as she couldn’t believe that was what you chose to ask at a time like this. “You’re so unoriginal” she huffs, although her grip on your wrist falters as she begins to speak. “You should know already” she continues on, her eyes remaining focused on your fearful expression. 

“No one took his death seriously— no one. So why does everyone suddenly care when a bunch of asshole kids from a college get killed off, huh?” she begins, and you already know she is referencing Joel’s abrupt death. “I figured I’d give those cops something to do since all they’ve done is sit on their asses… those fucking bastards” she says, so lost in her confession that she doesn’t even feel the way you easily slip your wrist from her grasp and before she takes notice, you use all the strength you could muster to smack her, not giving two shits as to why she felt she had the right to harm others. 

The hit makes her groan, her head turning from the force of it as her whole body weakens for a brief moment, just long enough for you to shove her off of you and make another run for your bedroom. You could hear Ellie screaming meaninglessly as you sprinted for your life towards your bedroom, the sound of her footsteps right behind you making it hard to breathe. 

There was no time to slam the door before she got a hold on you again and she was going to make sure you knew she wasn’t fucking around this time. You were about to scream just to call attention to the house in case any neighbors happened to hear but you were quickly cut off when you felt a cool metal press against the side of your head. 

She had a fucking gun— that was what you had seen tucked in her jeans earlier. 

You felt as if your lungs were giving out, soft pleas beginning to fall from your lips as your body trembled in her hold. “Not so tough now, huh?” she questions, guiding you towards your plush bed and shoving you down on it, watching as you look up at her with teary eyes as she keeps the gun pointed at your head. 

The sight of you being reduced to such a pathetic sight made something blossom in Ellie’s chest, a sick sense of pride. She tucked the weapon into the back of her jeans before slowly crawling into bed with you, her body straddling your own as she looks down at you curiously. You can’t speak even if you try, the words dying in your throat as you watch her pull out her switchblade instead. 

She seems to relax, although you are tensing with each passing second as she brings the sharpened blade closer to your skin. You shake your head repeatedly, trying to reason with her. “Please— please don’t kill me” you begin to beg, the words leaving your lips countless times before they finally invoke a response from her. “Oh, angel. I don’t want to kill you. Just wanted to have some fun with you but then you had to make a big fuss, didn’t you?” she asks, her voice so soothing that you could feel your rational mind slipping away. 

“You really hurt me, baby” she sighs, beginning to use her blade to slice through the fabric of your top effortlessly. You whimper, a bit too loud for her liking. “Shut the fuck up” she snaps, cutting into the band of your bra next, her rough hand messily tugging the ruined material to the side so she could get a perfect view of your tits. You felt all too exposed, your frown deepening as you looked up at her. 

“So, are you gonna apologize for being so disrespectful?” she questions as she pushes up the material of your skirt, her blade catching on your panties. “Sorry” you mutter, squirming since her blade was uncomfortably close to your skin. Ellie’s patience was wearing, a low huff leaving her lips as she cut into the fabric. “Stop fucking moving!” she says exasperatedly, the loud words causing your body to still at once. 

She sighs as she pulls the thin fabric away from your body, her eyes shamelessly focusing on your cunt, her hand carelessly shoving your thighs further apart. “Say it like you mean it” she demands, not at all impressed. Her words make you burn with shame, your mind racing as she brings her hand closer to your cunt that was beginning to become embarrassingly wet. 

Just as your words began, her blade dug into your lower tummy in the slightest, barely enough to draw blood. “I’m sorry, Ellie! I didn’t mean it, I swear” you plead in a rushed voice, trying to focus on not moving at all so her blade wouldn’t push deeper into the soft skin of your stomach. Your chest heaved against your will and you were almost positive that this was the end for you, 

Seeing you all teary eyed and frightened made Ellie dizzy with power and she finally pulled away the blade, tucking it into her pocket before giving you a little kiss on your lips, not at all caring that you didn’t even have time to react to the action. “Was that so hard, sweet girl? Can’t believe you made me hurt you” she says with a mocking pout. 

All you can do is try to control your breathing, no longer attempting to struggle under the weight of her body. You knew your life was in danger but Ellie’s presence made it impossible for you to have any sort of rationality. 

“C’mere” she mutters calmly, finally scooting back so that you could sit up. She could already tell she had gotten you right where she wanted you so she felt no concern about letting you sit up for the time being. She carelessly removed your torn clothes so that you were finally completely bare for her. 

She couldn’t help herself, as her hand naturally lowered to deliver a few rough slaps against your tits. You flinched, the pain spreading quickly and making you huff a bit. It was hard not to be ashamed when you were completely nude and she was still fully clothed. Not to mention the fact that you were willingly allowing a ruthless killer to see you like this. 

No words were spoken as she laid you back down, not paying you any mind as she lowered herself so she could settle between your legs. You knew better than to move at this point, so you settled for raising your head in the slightest bit so you could peek down at her. 

Ellie didn’t bother to meet your gaze, her rough hands moving against your soft skin as she made sure you would be unable to press your thighs together. “Els…” you began, unsure of what you were even going to say. You didn’t even have the option to finish your sentence, as in the blink of an eye you could feel her warm breath against your cunt. 

You flinched involuntarily as she pressed a messy kiss to your sensitive clit, her tongue flattening to lick a stripe against your slit afterwards. She only backed away to speak a few simple words. “Just keep your mouth shut” she muttered before returning to her previous movements. 

The way her tongue sloppily moved against you showed a desperation you had never seen before, although the grip she had on your hips was proof of the anger that still lingered. You clasped your hand over your mouth, your brows knitting as you focused on how she would take little breaks to focus on sucking on your puffy bud. 

Your shaky hips rocked against her mouth, her own moans filling the room as she took in your sweet taste. “You gonna let me open you up?” she asks ever so calmly, allowing her middle finger to press into your slick cunt so she could fuck you with it. 

You were growing dizzy with a combination of guilt and pleasure, tears of frustration forming as she fucked you open. “Does it feel good, baby?” she asks, raising her head so she could look at your pathetic expression. You look at her for a moment, unsure if you were actually allowed to speak. 

The sight of your unsure gaze made Ellie grin in the slightest, not giving any warning as she pushed a second finger into you. “S’ fine, I wanna hear you” she says, granting you the permission you had been seeking out. Your muscles relaxed as you were finally allowed to let out small moans, your tears now aimlessly streaming down your face. 

“Mhmm,  I can feel it so deep” you whisper, curses slipping out as you press your head back against your bed. Your small movements quickly became erratic, your body writhing as endless pleasure built. “Need to cum, please” you beg, as something tightening in your lower tummy told you that you were getting close. 

“Not yet, we haven’t even gotten to the fun part” she hums, not caring about the shocked expression that took over your features. She halted the thrusting of her fingers to pull them out, your arousal still sticky against her skin. 

You momentarily believed that she had no intentions of letting you get off and you simply couldn’t bear the thought after all you had been through tonight. You needed to feel release, sooner rather than later. 

“I’ll do anything” you say quickly, your words so rushed that they almost don’t make sense to Ellie. Her eye refocus on you as she takes a moment to decipher what you had said, a smile making itself known as she reaches for an item still tucked into the back of her jeans. 

“I know you will” she quips, finally revealing what she had been reaching for. Ellie loved how heavy the gun felt in her hand and it offered her a sense of control she had never felt previously. Your heart nearly leapt out of your throat, your muscles aching from how harshly you were tensing up. 

The way you feverishly shook your head made you momentarily nauseous and you uttered the only words you could think of. “Please— don’t hurt me, I love you” you say breathlessly, feeling hurt at the way Ellie was quick to mutter a mocking version of your words. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you make me” she states nonchalantly, inching the gun closer to your cunt but not before taking the time to spit directly on your pussy to ensure you wouldn’t be in too much pain from the stretch. 

You feel powerless as she finally presses the cool steel against your slit, the sound of her low voice reverberating inside your mind. “Make sure to keep still. You don’t want me accidentally pulling the trigger now, do you?” she asks with a sick smile. 

The two of you already know your answer so you don’t bother with a verbal reply, instead you close your eyes tightly and brace yourself. 

The barrel of the handgun eases into your cunt and you are thankful that she had the decency to make sure you were slick enough to take the weapon. Although that’s not to say that there wasn’t any pain, as low grunts were quick to leave your lips from how thick it was. 

“Keep taking it, just like that” she coos, now beginning to properly fuck you with it. You had fallen weak to your desires, as it dawned on you that you were truly nearing your orgasm due to the fact that you were being fucked with a gun. The thrusts were deep and fast, your moans becoming borderline screams as your pleasure continuously built. 

The barrel had grown warm from being within you and the way you were crying Ellie’s name let her know that you were on the brink of your climax. “Do it. Cum on my gun like the filthy girl you are” she mutters, rubbing your clit in time with the thrusts of the weapon. 

And you didn’t need to be told twice, as with one loud cry, you had reached your orgasm. Ellie felt pride swell within her chest as she saw the white ring of your slick that had formed at the end of the barrel. 

She eased the weapon out of your before using her tongue to shamelessly clean up the mess you had made on her weapon of choice. You were barely coherent, the exhaustion of all the fighting you had done catching up with you as well as the fact that your adrenaline was wearing off. 

You didn’t even notice as she stood above you, phone in hand as she took a flash photo of your worn down state. Once the light made you squint, you could hear her voice right next to your ear but you couldn’t even see her. 

“You tell anyone about what I did, I swear to god this picture will be plastered everywhere so everyone knows how much you love getting fucked by sickos. And if you ever talk back to me again, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even finish your sentence” she whispers. 

By the time you can see clearly again, she is gone, leaving you to clean up the mess she had made. But even with her gone, you swore you could still feel her eyes on you and you knew once and for all, there was no way she would ever let you get away from her. 

[veronicangel]

UNDER YOUR SPELL

daisuke - mouthwashing

cw: smut, in this au nothing that bad happens,, everyone stays alive and jimmy isnt a b word, daisuke cums in his boxers lmao, l bomb!, very rushed lmao

it had been months since he's had any sort of pleasure. it's all stressful these days with what happened on the pony express. no matter what, swansea, curly, and jimmy are on him about anything. he is just so exhausted and in need of some relief. and seriously, the only sort of relief he gets is from you. you are just so kind to him. whenever he does something and you tell him he did a good job, or when he helps you with something and you tell him how amazing he is.

he can't help but think of you laying in his bed late at night. it was silent on the ship, and he was alone with his thoughts. he couldn't help but envision you. he thought of the way your hair was so beautiful and the way it would look in his hands. he thought of your pretty eyes and how they would look looking up at him with your plush lips full with him. he thought of your body, the way it curves at your hips, the way your waist would fit his arm perfectly, your chest and how perfectly your tits would fit in his mouth. he felt so perverted thinking of you this way, but he was completely under your spell. he snapped back into reality when he heard a knock on his door. he didn't know what to do, his pants unbelievably tight just from the thought of you. he, although very lazily, got up and opened the door. his face dusted a light crimson, it was you. he could help but look you up and down. it seems you were in pajamas because you were wearing a tank top and shorts. he's never seen this much of you he didn't know how to react, but his cock reacted on its own.

"hey"

...

"um im sorry for bothering you i just cant sleep"

he was so stupid! why is he staying silent when you're right in front of him?? he could easily just pull you in and tell you everything he thinks of you. he could kiss you now. he could finally have a chance with you so why can't he muster up any words?

"yeah!"

"i'm sorry?"

he could die right now. out of all the things he could say to you he says "yeah!" like an idiot. he could tell you to come in. he knows he wants to cum in you. he could tell you that you could come to him whenever you want.

"i mean come in! sorry i just im tired you know the sleepiness is getting to my brain"

"i'm sorry if you're tired i can go back to my room"

"NO!"

....

you laughed at that. he heard your beautiful laugh. you were so oblivious to your affect on him, just your laugh made him throb.

"if you really want me to stay then i will."

you brushed past him, his hand rubbed on yours just a second, and he felt as if his heart could explode. he's thought about your hand more times than he could count. he watched as you sat in his bed. he's dreamt of you being in his bed over a million times. he rushed over to sit next to you, keeping a small space in between you.

"you know, i think you're really great"

"huh?"

"yeah, i hear what the crew says to you and i don't think it's true at all. i mean without you i wouldn't be able to reach anything really."

you laughed as you said that, but your face turned more serious. you closed the space between you too, scooting yourself closer to him. you put your hand on top of his.

"you're a really great guy you know? you genuinely are really good for us... for me."

the way you held eye contact with him, the way your hand rested on his, the way there was no space seperating you. the praise you gave him. he didn't know what to do or how to react. his face was definitely flushed a deep shade of red.

"i..."

he couldn't get anymore words out because of your lips on his. what's going on? he felt his lips no longer alone as you attached yours to his. he kissed back, although inexperienced, he didn't want this to end. when you pulled back he looked at you in admiration.

"am i dreaming?"

you laughed again, before kissing him again.

"no sweetheart, this is very real"

he felt like if he died right now, he'd be okay with it. you kissed him and you're calling him all those things. he doesn't know what to do. he desires you so badly. ever since he first saw you you've been haunting his thoughts.

"can you... kiss me again?"

you did just as he asked, your lips becoming one with each other. the slow passion made him insane. your hand made its way to his hair and he couldn't help but whimper. he wanted to pull back and apologize but you wouldn't let him. you grabbed his hand and snaked it around your waist, bringing you two even closer. the kiss started getting a fast pace and your tongue slipped into his mouth. this was way past everything he's ever done, he's so new to this, and he's doing with it with you and- his thoughts get interrupted by feeling himself getting pushed back onto his bed. he's now laying down and you on top of him, your lips never seperating.

"daisuke..."

his name left your mouth perfectly, although it wasn't louder than a whisper. he looked up at you, the way your hair framed you both, your eyes looking down on him, your lips red and puffy from your intense make out session, and the look in your eyes that said you want him. it was euphoric.

"what is it...?"

"i want you so badly... do you want me like i want you?"

everything felt too good for him. he wasn't sure this was even real. all he could do was nod desperately. he felt your hands reach the hem of his shirt, and he looked at you with a pink face and nodded again at you. you pulled his shirt over his head and started kissing his neck, then his chest, then his stomach.

"you're so perfect daisuke, i want you all to myself"

his mouth fell agape and his eyes closed, he couldn't help the small whimpers leaving his mouth as he felt your teeth suck on his neck.

"i... i need you (your name) i need you so badly please let me be good for you let me be your good boy"

he led his hands to his waistband and started pulling the rest of clothes off. his face was completely flushed and he couldn't tell if this was really happening. he was now almost completely bare, and he felt really embarrassed.

"you're perfect daisuke... do you wanna see me too?"

before he could answer you grabbed his hands and led them to the hem of your own top, quickly taking it off. you weren't even wearing a bra, he saw you immediately.

"you wanna make each other feel good, daisuke?"

"i need it more than anything (your name)... will you let me?"

you nodded your head and he brought his hands to your shorts. you moved off of him so he could get them off. both of you now only in your underwear. you were now sat next to him and he looked up at you. it was more than anything he's imagined. he's definitely imagined you naked over a hundred times, but the real deal just makes him go over the edge.

"do you want to do this?"

"please touch me.."

his voice was quiet but you did as he asked. your hand reached down to his crotch and you started palming his clothed cock. the sensation brought immediate moans from him.

"you sound so cute daisuke keep making these sounds for me"

your pace quickened and his moans got louder.

"please (your name) i wanna cum for you, i wanna be your good boy, tell me im your good boy"

"you're my good boy daisuke, be my good boy and cum for me"

with your command, he finished in his boxers. his whimpers continued even after the fact. he was just too cute.

"you did so good for me daisuke"

"i.... i love you"

you were facing each other while laying down now, and the word love fell from his mouth. this shocked you but it felt so right hearing it directed at you.

"i love you more daisuke"

lmao i got carried away this was supposed to be rlly short and it was also supposed to be pure smut but it ended up being fluff and barely smut 🌚 this was also supposed to go a completely different way so if you guys want to see that lmk cuz i will write it for you guys if you want ���

[schlattslambo]

i need a jschlatt smut when he's drunk after some big party like a wedding or smth like that, and he's all cute and cuddly but also horny for you and wants to marry you but also fuck you thank you that's all

a/n: coming back with a bang! hope you all enjoy!! im basing this off of drunk bob from bobs burgers “show me your boobs”

———————

jay was humming along to the song that the uber was playing as the two of you stumbled to the house. the two of you chose to ring in the new year with friends, and the drinks were flowing. his dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway despite the cold, and his jacket was draped over your shoulders. his lips feather over your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“baby, let me open the door,” you smile, fumbling for your keys.

“but i love you,” jay whines against your skin.

“love you too, baby.” you turn and give him a kiss on the cheek before pushing the door open.

the door isn’t even fully closed before jay is on you, nipping at your skin and feeling you up.

“you’re so beautiful,” jay mumbles. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too jay,” you reply, returning his kisses.

jay scoops you up without a word and throws you over his shoulder. you squeal and grip his shirt, laughing loudly.

“jay!” you squeal. “put me down!”

in response, jay slaps your ass and you can almost picture the grin on his face. he plops you down on the bed that you two share and crawls on top of you. brown hair falls in his face as he smiles, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

just as you’re sure that he’s going to grind onto you, jay flops down and snuggles into you. his hands grip your soft body gently as his face finds its way into the crook of your neck.

“you’re just so amazin’ baby,” jay says against you. “i got so lucky. you make my life so much brighter.”

he babbles away, complimenting you and rubbing your thighs and hips as he does. he looks up at you and your eyes lock again. you don’t think he’s ever looked at you with such love before. maybe he has and you just weren’t looking?

you run a hand through jay’s hair and smile.

“y’know,” jay says. “i wanna marry you one day.”

your breath catches in your throat. jay is never one to be outwardly affectionate, so this entire moment is charged. you’re sure that you’ll break down into tears if jay keeps saying all these sweet things.

“we’d have everything you wanted. the best damn cake money can buy, and we’d get married on a beach just like you’ve always dreamed of.” jay says, staring at you with literal hearts in his eyes. “and you’d look so beautiful. like the goddess that you are. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted, and i want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”

your tears finally sting your eyes before falling and you sniffle, grabbing jay close and hugging him tightly.

“i love you,” you whimper softly. “and i can’t wait to marry you one day.”

jay adjusts, straddling you as he brings your lips to his. what starts out as a loving, passionate kiss turns into a sloppy makeout session. when the two of you break away for air, jay’s fully tenting his pants. you glance down before giggling.

“‘s what you do to me, sweet thing,” jay smiles bashfully. “can’t help it.”

you smile and bring jay back down, nibbling his bottom lip.

“you should show me how much you love me,” you breathe against his lips. “please make me scream.”

jay pulls back slightly and smiles. “baby, you say that shit again and we’re breaking this bed.”

[lostinlovingrevery]

Just a thought and no offense but I think Logan just wants to be in love and feel loved in return.

(This isnt proofread and came out as rambling so have fun trying to read it and decipher it! 😅)

So WE ALL know that Logan can be flirty, and that he may have had a period where he was a bit of a manwhore (*cough* 70s Logan *cough*)

I feel like that period though, and any other flings, one night stands, etc whatever was less out of lust and more of a desperation to feel SOME kind of human connection bc the mans so lonely and has been treated like a soldier, a weapon for so long that hes desperate for human connection, even if it makes him end up feeling depraved afterwards. Post-nut clarity wakes him up next to some girl he met at a bar, and guilt sinks its teeth into him because he doesnt even know her name, much less actually LIKE her. The man was born in the 1800s, he may have grown with time but you cannot tell me theres not some inkling of being a gentleman- and wanting to find someone you truly love, hidden in there somewhere. I think overtime he may fall into this routine, believing he needed to be a walking sex magnet, gruff, cocky, whatever have you because hes convinced its the only way he can have a connection with someone, even if its for a few passionate moments under bedsheets, and an awkward "that was nice. Bye"

It only fuels his self hatred, convincing him that he really his just an animal, looking to get his sick desires out, eat, fuck, sleep, survive.

When we see him in the X movies, as a cage fighter he is brutal and rough and he doesnt seem to have a caring bone in his body yet he still manages to find himself caring about this young girl who stowawayed in his trailer, and does help her, even if he acts like this version of logan he created. Someone who doesnt care. But he cares. A lot.

Its not until he meets YOU, that he starts to wonder if he got it all wrong. Kind, beautiful, smart YOU.

I fully believe that logan just wants a partner. One night stands, flings, what have you, were just him lying to himself, desperate to feel something other than hate. After he lost his memories, and he began just wandering, the concept of love was lost on him. And lust wasnt there anymore either. He was approached by women, perfectly fine, pretty women, all the time during his time cage fighting, bars, etc. He turned them all away- completely opposite of logan 30-40 years ago (my timing probs not right on xmen lol) who was convinced the only way he was living was if he had ass next to him every night he went to sleep because he was lonely. This version of logan, lost, angry, wanted nothing to do with people. Some of it the repressed feelings coming out from his past that he doesnt even remember. He was convinced then that he had to be alone. Becoming a lone wolf that bared his teeth at anyone who tried to pet it. Secretly though, deep down although he wouldnt admit it, there was that deep desire, that he always felt in his 200 years, that he just wanted to find his mate. He'd call soulmates bullshit if you asked him, but the moment he meets you, hed know that it was real, and that maybe god cursed (gifted) him the ability of healing and practical immortality just so he could find you. And hed do it over and over again, the pain and suffering and loneliness, if it meant you would be the endgoal.

Logan is a pack animal. He needed a family, to protect, and cherish. When he meets and ends up at the x-men, his demeanor and attitude changes quickly to something similar to a dog that snaps at you when you pet it only for it to whine and whimper "im sorry, please dont hate me, i just dont know how to accept love.". Hes still wary, because hed never KNOWN a family before. Put aside his memory loss, the closest things he had to a family was a creep of a brother, and a woman who said she loved him under false pretenses (i still dont like you kayla even if you say it was real). He barely knew his parents, and even then that was a lie because his father wasnt even his biological father. Yeah, Logans life was pretty damn lonely, so its no wonder the man is cautious of anybody and anything.

The moment you come into his life though, that bitterness, anger, and meaningless flirting goes right out the window. Hes serious about you. Hes usually cautious, nervous around people but he meets you and its almost like he threw all those imaginary rules he has for himself out of the window.

Look at how he was with Jean in the movies. He barely knew the woman, they barely shared ANY lines in the movie yet he was almost completely devoted (dont get me started on that storyline). Trust didnt come easy to the wolverine. And Kayla- their relationship just shows how much he wants love and to be loved. I never seen origins but a lot of gifsets and read the synopsis of the plot, but i think he had a feeling with Kayla he couldnt trust (remember how he says hell never go against his gut again?) But he so badly just wanted that connection he ignored all the warning signs and did everything to build a life with this woman who not only tricked him, but put him through unimaginable pain both physically and mentally. (Look I REALLY dont like kayla but i do feel bad for her because stryker did have her sister captive). I know stryker is the evil mastermind here, but god imagine trying to find love with someone, only for it all to be a farce, even if they claimed they did love you the entire time- the intentions from the very beginning was far from love.

Oh but when he is in love with you. From the moment he met you, it wasnt love at first sight exactly, more like a feeling that you were it. Hes all about you. He sticks around, under the pretense that he just needed to make some money first, doing some missions for charles, keep an eye on rogue. He cant admit its because he wants to stay close to you. Hes like a feral cat taking shelter in your shed. Stays away at first, cautious of your spspspsp, but curious nonetheless. Completely ignores the first bowl of food you put down for it- or so you thought because when you came back it was completely devoured. It takes weeks of food and spspsps before it finally warms up to you, but after that first contact with your hand and its head- good luck ever getting rid of it. Not that youd want to 😊

Logan becomes a shadow to you, once you become something akin to friends. (Its really more than that but no ones addressed it). He teases you and flirts with you, and its something you think he does with everyone, until Ororo tells you that he only does it to you. Sometimes he just sits in your company, other times hes curious about what youre working on, not wanting to start the convo, but does things like leering over your shoulder (which he may or may not be doing just to he close to you and get a good whiff of the smell of your hair). He stresses when you go on missions without him. He slowly opens up about his past to you when he begins to get his memories back. Trusting only you (and maybe charles) with the truth ablut the man he used to be, and still is.

When your feelings finally do come out in the open though, however it happens, that first kiss, the first time you make love, etc etc. Logans a different man. I mean, hes still that cocky, grumpy person we all know and love. But he carried himself differently. Hes confident and wiser, hes comfortable, and hes happy. He found a home, his pack. And maybe after countless conversations about his past, the things hes done, and the comforting words and understandings you give him, he starts to learn that he isnt so bad, because if you love him, YOU, the most wonderful person hes ever known in 200 years, love him despite all of his violence and hatred and slight whoreish tendecies back in the 70s...then he must be alright.

He doesnt need to worry about his past anymore, when hes got you, right there with him, promising a loving future together.

[meraki-sunset]

so your crow strider au gave me inspiration for my own au, but i've built up the idea in my brain so much that now im scared to try to put it to paper (oops) did you ever deal with this while making crow strider? (and if you did, how you got over it would be much appreciated thanks fhdjks) also your art is cool :]

Hi, sure, i encountered a few blocks when writing CSAU and other projects. I think my method comes down to a couple rules

You need to know how the story ends from the start, so everything in the story leads to the end. Things can change about the contents of the story as you write it and you change your mind about the events that will transpire in it, but you need an end goal you can build your story towards. Most importantly, this is what allows you to add foreshadowing for said ending and structure the narrative in a clear direction. Otherwise, you might come up with a cool ending too late and regret some choices from past chapters that now don’t help this new ending you want

On that same note (and i’ll proceed to copy and paste from an old post) You need to have a Word document with a rough timeline of the events from start to finish. You need to know how it ends from the beginning and how they get there. It can be really, really vague, but it has to be there. It can go like

. They start the game, the trolls bother them.

.both games go to hell

.scratch

.trip, develop relationships

.new set of kids/teen drama

.old kids they get there

.to hell again

.John retcons everything

.new timeline

.they win

And that's homestuck simplified, Those are your Acts. With them, you will know where you're going and if you need to change something earlier. Everything will be constantly up to change of course, but you will be going from point A to point Z more easily.

From there, you go to every point in that list and create a Word document for all of them. I have them in different folders to have every act separated and in order.

A folder for each Doc for every Act, Numbered, and in each one make more lists like that one telling what happens, for example

WordDoc1 - ACT 1 "They start the game, the trolls bother them"=

.John needs to get his game

.introduce Rose

.introduce the trolls on pester chats

. John gets the game

.introduce Dave

.etc

And those are your chapters. Now you can know the extent of what you want to do and if it makes any sense.

I addition to that, every Folder can contain not only the Word document for the Act but also relevant texts and art that are connected to the Act, so evey folder is all about that specific act and any inspiration for it.

Another piece of advice I can give you is to hint at anything important. That's a rule of comedy; actually, the comedian usually closes the show with something related to the first things they said.

That works for everything, and makes people go, "Oh the thing! The meaningless thing they said earlier, it was a clue all along!"

Interconnect it like a web, and that web will stop the story from falling

Homestuck is so ridiculously interconnected that you lose track of the stuff and objects that repeat that have no way to be where they got to be, songs and people and events that are too similar to not be connected but nobody addresses, things like that make it feel like you're dealing with a universe and not just a line of events.

3. Yet another thing, it's something I'm still trying to assimilate, and is that less is more, sometimes things don't need to be said, specialy not bluntly, and an expression, a gesture, a flinch can summarize them. Backgrounds can be reduced, and ideas can be conveyed.

one example is, In homestuck, it's never said that Dave was raised with lack of food. He never sais it, but it's shown in how happy he was to find a warm bottle of juice in his closet, how there is only weapons on the kitchen and no sign of food, how he later sais he never learned what the purpose of a fridge was until he saw it on tv. If someone is lacking something, don't have them say, "i grew up without X thing" show what filled that space in the absence of X thing.

Instead of some character saying, "My dad was never there for christmas" have them say how they thrited for presents at the local goodwill, payed with their lawn mowing money and put the presents under the tree themselves for their siblings and mom.

4. Something that I always have in mind when writing the dialogs and sketching the scenes, is

"I have an idea; what's the easiest way for someone to get the idea, to get the feelings i want to transmit from the idea?" I made the art something I could handle drawing hundreds of times, simplified the coloring, the aspect symbols, the way I draw backgrounds, the way I write dialogs, etc.

That will save you time and work and could prevent you from getting stuck with a project too big to handle

5. This is the most important one: The first draft’s only purpose is to exist.

Writing is like playing darts sometimes; you only get closer to hitting the center by missing it and learning what not to do. That’s an actual rule on animation and a motto on the Disney office. “Get it wrong as quick as you can,” because when you learn what you’re doing wrong is when you start learnign what doing it right means.

If it helps, title your first draft “the dumb version,” because that’s what it is—the version to get the idea out of your head, and then you built over it.

On the same note, once you write "the dumb version" don’t correct it. Rewrite it. It’s annoying, I know, i know, but fixing and fixing a text only carries the mistakes from the first draft, and everything looks kind of disconnected, because it ends up being a Frankenstein text of all the versions of the story mixed together.

This also applies to art; that’s how I handle both writing and drawing; if it’s not working, hold onto the core idea, new page, restart.

Rewriting it puts it in perspective; it feels like a text of its own, with a clear intent in mind.

I think that’s all I have. Making a story is mostly about managing your strengths and weaknesses, organizing and not being scared of it not being perfect.

Hope this helps.

[treatbuckywkisses]

HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))

(also this might be my longest rb so far)

SIX UPON A TIME

"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻

"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.

"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this 

"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.

"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.

"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil 

"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you 

Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)

A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK

Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed

"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me

HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????

"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻 

""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)

"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭 

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that 

CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT

"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK 

Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika 

What did the powers do 

Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅 

"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you 

"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????

"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.

"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless 

"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻 

I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!

time after time [6]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 12.8k

chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying

a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

six: butterfly effect

Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.

At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.

Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.

So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.

It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.

"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.

"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"

"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.

"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."

He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.

"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."

The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.

You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.

“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”

"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."

Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.

In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.

That was none of his business, though.

Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.

Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.

"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."

"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"

"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."

You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."

"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."

He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.

Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.

Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"

"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."

"Is that what they told you?"

"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."

Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.

"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.

You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."

Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.

What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.

It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.

It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.

A reason to get up in the morning.

*****

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.

The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.

For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?

But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.

You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.

But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.

And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.

Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.

"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.

Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.

You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.

"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.

"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"

You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.

Because you’ve pissed him off now.

"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"

"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"

It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.

So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.

His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."

Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"

You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.

"No. How did you get stuck?"

"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.

How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.

"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.

There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"

"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.

He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.

Right. He doesn’t normally do that.

Except he has.

He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.

"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.

"Like what?"

"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"

You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.

When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.

"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"

His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.

"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.

Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.

Seeing it now, though?

It makes your fingers twitch.

"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."

"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."

The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.

"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.

There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …

"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.

You swallow heavily. "Being noble."

Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."

He’s beautiful.

It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?

But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?

So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.

The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …

And yet.

His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.

There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.

"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."

Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.

"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.

"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."

There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"

And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.

You have to do this alone.

Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.

"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."

"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.

Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."

"How would you know?"

"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."

Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.

"Promise."

He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.

That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.

***

There’s been a change in the weather.

Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.

But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.

"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.

"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.

"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"

Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.

"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.

The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.

You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.

But this …

It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.

"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.

"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"

"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.

"You know what I mean."

"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.

Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"

Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.

"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."

And just like that, you’re back on track.

Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."

It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.

You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.

The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.

So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.

It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.

Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.

You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.

"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."

"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.

"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."

"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.

"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."

Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."

"Aren’t I?"

You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"

The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."

It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.

Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.

If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.

You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"

"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"

"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.

"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."

Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.

Useless.

You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.

"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.

"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.

Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.

"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.

Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."

"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.

"Try that again, less convincing?"

"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"

Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"

You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."

You don’t, though.

It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.

***

Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.

You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.

"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.

"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"

He shrugs. "For a walk."

You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"

"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"

Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."

Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.

The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"

Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"

"So? I like coffee."

"Really. I never knew."

"Screw you."

You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.

You miss his eyes.

Why won’t you look at me?

When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.

"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"

"Early." You blink.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."

You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.

"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."

"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"

His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.

When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.

It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.

Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.

"Are you off or on break?" you call over.

She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."

"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."

Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."

Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.

You blink. "My shadow."

"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"

"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.

"Not that old."

"No," you agree, "not that old."

For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.

Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.

Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."

You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.

The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.

Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."

"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.

So is hers.

"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.

You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."

"You feel like or you know?"

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.

"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.

"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."

"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."

"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."

Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.

She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.

***

Time passes while it’s standing still.

The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.

It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.

Which you’re getting better at.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Rinse and repeat.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

"You look like shit."

Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.

"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Not particularly."

"Do you want to talk about something else?"

You almost smile. "Like what?"

Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"

Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.

"Did I?"

"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."

Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?

It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.

"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.

"Doing what?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."

Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."

Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."

So you do.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.

You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.

Or maybe it’s dread.

"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.

You blink, sitting upright. "What?"

"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."

Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.

"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.

Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."

You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.

"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."

"Stop it!"

An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.

Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.

"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."

"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.

"You cannot keep this up."

"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"

"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."

Do as I tell you.

"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."

"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"

You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"

"And there it is."

You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.

The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."

"I didn’t—"

"Answer the question."

"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.

"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"

He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …

"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"

"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."

You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.

"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."

"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."

"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."

"That’s not true."

"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."

You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.

"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."

"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."

"And what’s seeing him going to do?"

You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.

"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.

Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.

Then, you walk through the closed door.

You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.

With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.

You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.

Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.

Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.

"Changed your mind?"

You glance into the room.

At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.

Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.

Try the floor.

You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.

"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.

"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."

"Would he remember if I did?"

"I don’t know."

You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."

You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.

Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.

"You feel better?" Strange asks.

"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."

"What was?"

"Just …"

Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.

Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.

How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.

You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.

"Did I do something?" you say quietly.

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."

You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.

When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.

He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.

The door clicks shut.

"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.

"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.

***

Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.

You can cling to that.

"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.

"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."

"Fair point," you concede.

It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.

"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."

It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."

She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."

"You used to have bangs?"

"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."

You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."

"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."

"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"

You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

It is.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"

"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."

"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.

"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."

"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."

"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."

"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."

"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."

You know.

Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.

It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.

So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"

"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.

Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.

"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.

"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.

"There you are."

You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.

He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.

"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.

"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.

You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.

You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?

"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"

He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.

So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.

"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"

He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."

And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.

Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."

"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."

"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.

"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."

"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."

"I don’t trust her," you mutter.

"And yet the cat’s the weird one."

"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."

"There’s pie?" Bucky says.

"Not for you!"

You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.

That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.

Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.

Again and again and again and a—

"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"

You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.

Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.

You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.

"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.

Liar, liar, liar.

***

At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.

You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …

"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Not yet.

He got shot again yesterday.

A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."

You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"

"Today is Friday, July 4th."

You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.

What did you expect?

"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"

"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.

He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."

That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.

"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.

"You wish."

Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.

"You look like shit."

Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.

"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"

"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"

Not this again.

"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"

"Alright," he says.

And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.

But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.

There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.

I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.

That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.

In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.

"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.

"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."

"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."

"But if I could prevent it—"

"It already happened."

"I can make it not happen."

"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."

"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.

Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."

He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.

Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"

"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"

"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."

"No one ever feels ready until they try."

And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.

The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.

When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.

"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.

Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.

You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.

The band around your wrist does the same.

"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.

Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.

The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.

You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.

There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.

I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.

You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.

"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"

Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.

You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.

You’re all alone.

***

Three, two, one—

"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"

You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."

He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.

You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.

The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.

"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"

Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.

Strange still hasn’t returned.

The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.

It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.

"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.

The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.

Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.

"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."

But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.

Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.

Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.

Bucky still mumbles in his.

You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.

You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.

Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.

And she’s staring right at you.

You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.

A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.

"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.

The cat meows in disappointment.

Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.

She rubs against your palm.

You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."

Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.

This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.

So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.

And then you wait until he gets up.

It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.

It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.

Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.

In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.

You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.

Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.

But what else can you do?

You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.

That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.

Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.

Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.

That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.

The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.

Nothing else will.

There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.

"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.

"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.

If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—

"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"

You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.

You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.

Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."

You smile. "Good for you."

"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"

And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"

You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.

The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.

"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"

And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.

*****

"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.

"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.

"Not at all."

Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.

You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.

"Are you gonna move any time soon?"

Well. Mostly.

At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.

With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.

You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.

It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.

While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.

Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.

"You almost done in here?"

"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"

Bucky pointed over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.

Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"

"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"

"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.

"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.

You didn’t even make it to the staircase.

"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"

No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.

You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.

"What?" Bucky said.

"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.

"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.

Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.

You should’ve eaten more.

As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.

You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.

Not good enough.

Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.

A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.

It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.

Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.

"—d’you—see that—"

"—could’ve—sworn there—”

And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.

chapter seven

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄

smut+angst ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

Everyday was repeatedly the same. It felt like it never got better. Getting worse each day. It felt like a time loop he couldn’t be freed from. Having no way out. He dreaded being there. He hated going through it, suffering all of the pain alone. He hated waking up being himself. Wishing he could change everything. He wasn’t perfect in any way, he couldn’t change the fact that he was stuck. Wishing to be someone different. Wishing he wasn’t Chris Sturniolo.

He had no control over his life. He didn’t even have control over his own mind. Threats rung in his ears barely able to ever escape them. He could never get help. Everyone hated him. It made him miserable. He hated the fact he couldn’t just be better. No matter how hard he tried. He was a loser with no life. He had no one.

Sitting in the back of the class, chris sat silent. Trying as hard as he could to not draw any attention to himself, nibbling softly on his bruised lip as he wrote sloppily over his paper. His body shook slightly at the cold air, making it harder to focus. Lost in his deep thoughts he was interrupted by the slight noise of a cough from above. Looking up through his eyelashes his eyes landed on his teacher.

Clearing his throat he spoke. “I-im sorry.. I’ll focus now. Was just thinking about some stuff, didn’t mean to distract myself.” He spoke quickly, over sharing as usual. As he rambled he looked down at his worksheet. Seeing as he only had about half of the notes he needed he sighed. “Mr.Sturniolo I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to daydream after school. In my class you listen! I simply don’t care what it is you have going on, you pay attention.. do you hear me?” He teacher scolded him in front of his whole class. Hearing little laughs and snickers from each corner. He had humiliated himself again.

With a small ‘yes’ chris returned back to his notes, trying as hard as he could to focus. As the long minutes passed slowly, you began to pack your things ready for the lunch bell to ring. Hearing the loud chiming sound ring across the school you stood and hurriedly walked to your locker. Approaching your locker you seen your friends. It had became a common thing of meeting here after each class over the years.

“Hi guys!” You greeted them with a smile. Turning to your locker you began putting the code in, with a slight tug opening it. Placing your books in there neatly you checked your mirror making sure you still looked your very best. The last thing you ever wanted to do was be seen as ‘ordinary’. You couldn’t stand the idea of being the same as someone else. Almost gagging at the thought you shut your locker with a huff. Slinging your purse around your shoulder you began to make conversation with your friends.

“Hey!” Your friend shouted. You turned in his direction watching as he shouted from across the hall. You looked around trying to see what he was doing. Until you spotted him. Chris Sturniolo. His target everyday. You couldn’t blame him though, he was easy to get at. It didn’t bother you enough to ever correct him, it wasn’t your situation or place.

Watching as chris looked up slightly, he began walking faster trying to avoid the scene. “Hey! Fucking bitch I’m talking to you!” Your friend angrily shouted. You watched as he pushed chris, knocking him against the lockers. With a thud, chris slammed against the lockers. Wincing from the pain he sat up slowly feeling the ache in his back. Watching as your friend laughed, you rolled your eyes as a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“You think you can ignore me? Fucking freak.” Your friend angrily said. You watched as he got kicked, kneeling over clutching his stomach in pain. You saw as he had small tears forming in his eyes. Almost feeling bad you huffed looking to the side. By now a small crowd had formed around you.

Chris whimpered and cried as he got kicked over and over. Wishing for the torture to be over, he lied there. He gave up, there was no point to fight back. He knew he couldn’t win, so why try? Feeling his hair get pulled, his body came up. He had been dragged down the hall towards you, by the small tangled locks in his hair. You could see the small cuts and bruises and he was slammed down again.

“You fucking stink! Ever hear of a goddamn shower. Ugh!” Your friend pouted at him. Watching chris you felt bad for the first time. It never occurred to you before how mean people really were until now. The beatings never lasted long. It was just a casual game of toss between the two. Or more so with one.

You watched as the crowd slowly walked away, phones in hand recording. Hearing all of their laughter your gut felt weak. You almost wanted to cry. You couldn’t leave him here.

Chris sat in his own blood and tears. He had snot running down his chin as he wiped it with the back of his sleeve. You debated on helping him. I mean you wouldn’t want anyone to leave you, so it was only the right thing.

Crouching down you tapped his shoulder. He looked at you with a swollen lip. His eye had bruised into a dark purple, patches of his hair lay beside him. You could swear this was attempted murder. You frown at him as you sucked in a breath.

“Hey.. I’m sorry about him.” You began. You didn’t really know what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t stay silent anymore. Each day ate you away, you didn’t want to not help him. But what would people think if they say you with a person like him?

Chris cried silently as he gathered his items placing them back into his bag. He stood silently and began to walk off, leaving you and your discomforting words behind.

The next day chris arrived to school, he’d taken all the back hallways in hopes of avoiding everyone. He sat peacefully in the 3rd stall of the bathroom. Eating his lunch silently as he played with the small Lego figures he had in his pockets. Laughing with himself, he felt a small smile form on his face.

He was enjoying the quietness when he had been interrupted with a loud bang. Jumping slightly he panicked putting away all of his things, flushing his food. He pulled his feet up to his chest in hopes of hiding himself. “Come out freak we know you’re in here.” He heard the voice laugh. Looking down Chris gulped, scared of what he’d deal with today.

His breath was held in hopes to be as silent as he could. Feeling the pressure get to himself, he let out a sigh. “Found ya” he heard. He looked above as he saw the familiar face . Without another second he was covered in garbage. They laughed as they dumped garbage over him, remembering how it was weeks old from the kitchen. Spoiled milk stained his clothes as chunks of old food fell off of him.

Hearing cheering and laughter erupt, the bathroom door opened and closed. He waiting a few moments before bursting in tears. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. Feeling the pain overwhelming him. He struggled to breathe as he choked on his own sobs. Feeling the hot tears run down his face.

He burried his face in his hands as he tried to dry his face. Walking to the sink he grabbed multiple rolls of paper towels in hopes of removing as much trash as he could. Finishing he flushed the last of the towels and grabbed his bag. Leaving the bathroom his shoes squeaked as he walked on the hard tiles. He slid slighty, nearly falling. He sighed again and began to move more gently. He walked wherever he feet took him.

Minutes later he found himself standing in front of the door of his own home. Looking down he stared at the pavement. Just watching. He wishes he could have a day of freedom, he really does. Bringing his hand up he slowly turned the key unlocking the door. Pushing the big door open he walked in, being met with the silence.

It had been hours since chris came home. All he could do was lay hopelessly in his bed. Recounting the moments from his life. He’s never been so sad to the point where it got like this. Was it worth it? Will it ever get better? He thought long and hard, thinking as deep as he could. What could he do differently, he wanted nothing more but to fit in. Feeling the tears prickle his eyes he sniffed and ran a hand across his face.

With a soft knock at his door he turned around slowly. Staring at the wooden door, he pushed himself up. Walking painfully slow he reached the door opening it slightly. Being met with none other than his brother.

Of course his brothers didn’t know about his situation, that’s how he liked it. They were older, and they went to college. They had a future, a chance. He wanted nothing but to be perfect like them. They never would have to live through the hell he put up with everyday.

With a small smile Chris looked around, avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure if he had been crying hard enough to leave marks, so he better play it safe. “Hey..” he muttered lightly. Matt nodded, signaling a small gesture back. Clearing his throat his began speaking, “hey uh.. you okay? You seem really tired lately.” He asked sincerely.

‘No, Matt. I’m not okay. I’m not even close to being okay. Everyday I go through hell and torture, and I can’t escape it. It’s a long continuous fucking loop and I’m stuck. I can’t get out and I wanna scream. Oh my god all I want to do, is scream. But I can’t, and I don’t know if it’ll ever stop. I just want someone to listen to me and be there. Someone who wont beat me and spit on me. Someone to tell me it’s okay, and hold me tight. I’m so tired and limp I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyday I wake up with this hatred for myself wishing things could be different like I-I can change everything. But I can’t, and I’ll never be able to. So no Matt.. I’m not okay.’

Is all Chris wanted wanted to say. But if he admitted that out loud, it’d make him even more pathetic. With a small exhale chris nodded. “Yea I’m good. Just school, schoolwork is kicking my ass right now.” He lied. He let out a breathy laugh and he bit down on his lip. Matt chuckled lightly, nodding his head in agreement.

“Dude I feel you..” Matt spoke, patting chris on the shoulder in a jokingly way. “But uh hey I came up to say someone’s waiting for you. A classmate I think?” He stated in a confused tone. He pointed behind him as chris followed his direction towards the door. Chris gulped and thanked him. He shut the door walking down the stairs.

Who could be here? Hesitation washed over chris as he reached the bottom step. As he inhaled a sharpe breath he closed his eyes. As his hand reached out for the door he slowly pulled it opened.

“Hi” he heard. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing the girl standing in front of him. She was dressed in loungewear, the type you’d wear around your family or to bed. She had her hair brushed back in bun. He watched as she rocked on her heels. He blinked at her as she stood in front of him. Why the hell was she here?

“You’re probably confused why I’m here..” she chuckled softly. As she ran her hands down her sides as she fixed her sweater slightly. She had a small smile plastered on her face, looking off to the side. With a small nod from chris she laughed nervously. “Well.. you weren’t in school today, teacher asked me to bring you your assignments.” She stated with a small voice.

“Thanks” chris said blankly. She handed him the assignments, tucked neatly under her arm. As he took them from her he glanced over her face, just looking. As he began to turn away shutting the door she put her hand out stopping him.

“Wait!” She shouted. With quick movements Chris opened the door slightly, seeing her flushed face. “I was thinking, maybe we could study together. I mean I’m already here and I’d love to help you catch up.” She offered. She had a warm smile, always in pure bliss.

“You don’t have to do that.” Chris turned down. He nibbled on his lip slightly growing nervous under her trance. She shook her head slightly and smiled again. “No it’s fine I promise! I don’t mind.” She admitted.

With a second guess chris decided to go with it. After all he really did need the help. And he didn’t necessarily see you to be the type to fight, so he felt safe in this moment. Stepping to the side he led you in. Following him up the stairs, you admired all the wall paintings. Running your fingers over each one letting your fingertips dance and glimpse over the cold railing.

Chris turned his head slowly as he looked at her over his shoulder. Feeling his mouth go dry he swallowed. “Uhm.. we can study in here.” He spoke softly. No matter how hard it was for him to stay calm, he did a damn good job of not showing it.

You followed after him into his bedroom. It was an average room, a fairly big bed with a dresser across the room. He had posters on his wall, with small display cases lined against his wall. Besides the small piles of clothes on the floor his room was rather clean. It felt comfortable.

As you sat on his bed beside him you looked at him, admiring the beauty. You found beauty in everyone, everyone was so different it was unique.

As you both studied together, it became obvious that he was tired. Feeling bad you began to pack your bag silently. As you gathered all of your items you straightened out your clothes and stood.

“You’re leaving?” Chris asked softly. You stood in front of him for a moment, debating whether you really did want to leave. “Uhm, well you just looked a little tired.” You said softly. He looked to the side as he scratched the back of his neck softly. He began to tug at the small strands of hair. Growing nervous he bit down on his lip, a habit he’d grown.

“M’not tired.” He said plainly. He looked in your eyes almost pleading you to stay. It had been years since someone visited chris. He missed the comfort of company, the rush of joy he felt was unbelievable. Smiling softly you sat back beside him.

“Did you want to continue studying? Or we can just talk, doesn’t matter.” You said. You were so soft spoken, it was a mystery to Chris why you chose to surround yourself with people he found so evil.

“Uhm we can.. talk? I guess.” He asked hesitantly. You nodded at him. You looked down trying to think of something to converse about. “So uhm, how have you been?” He asked. You looked up, a small smile playing on your face. “I’ve been really good. Schools kinda stressful right now with all the work we’re getting.” You admitted. He nodded in agreement. “Yea.. school is hard.” He said lowly. You gulped as you recalled all the moments where he was bullied. Feeling bad, you bit your tongue.

“Hey.. I’m really sorry about them.” You said. Your voice cracked slightly as you fought back tears. You just felt so bad, you had been so silent. You could’ve helped him. Instead you watched it happen, everyday. And it killed you. He looked away, taken aback by the sudden shift. He huffed out, shutting his eyes briefly. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“I’d love to be your friend.” You replied nicely. You smiled at him, your cheeks forming into a rosy color. He watched as you fiddled with your thumbs. “You would?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded at him eagerly, a small giggle coming out. He smiled softly at you.

He felt more relaxed as the hours ticked by. His room could be heard of small giggles and loud words. You grew comfortable with chris the more you stayed. Not wanting to go home, you both planned a small sleepover. You’d both skip school tomorrow and spend the day together. You’d wanted to know chris. The real him.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say chris wasn’t an attractive guy, because he really was. He had perfect teeth, a smile that could light up a room. He had beautiful blue eyes, they were so inviting. His perfectly natural hair. You weren’t sure what everyone else saw, but all you could see was the beauty in him.

“You’re cute, you know that?” You giggled. You tossed your head back laying down on the soft mattress. Turning your head you watched as he laughed softly, picking at his bottom lip with his teeth. His face grew red as he looked down. He shook his head slightly at you. “No im not, are you high?” You bursted into laughter at his comment. Bringing your hands to your face wiping the small tears as you laughed harder. “No no! I’m serious.” You stared at him.

“Come, lay down.” You patted the spot next to you. Watching as he moved upwards slightly, he lied down next to you. You both lay there, looking in each others eyes. You softly reached out tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. Smiling softly you ran your fingers over his cheek.

“I mean it Chris. You really are beautiful.” You spoke softly. Chris nervously smiled, taking in your words. Leaning his face into your palm he smiled. “Thank you. You’re really pretty.” You smiled, flashing your teeth at him.

You pulled your face closer to his, hovering your lips just above his. Inhaling his scent, it was almost intoxicating. Pulling him close, he felt his lips come in contact with yours. He melted at the soft touch. Pulling away slightly you ran your tongue over your lips.

Kissing him once more you cradled his face, now rolling to your side. You both shared a kiss that you’d both remember forever. The world stopped for a second, it was just you. Nothing else mattered.

You softly ran your tongue over his lips, feeling the peeling skin as he’d bitten at them so much. You felt his mouth open slightly you found your tongues tangled together. Moaning softly in his mouth, you slowly began to grind your hips into his.

As your lips fought together, you became more addicted to his taste. Pulling away slighty you trailed your fingers over his skin. Running your hand down his chest, you slightly pulled his shirt up. Running your fingertips across his bare skin, he sucked in a breath.

As you kissed along his neck he let out small whimpers, by now his cock had slightly hardened. It became harder to contain his noises as he sucked a breath in. Slowly you pulled your face back to his kissing his lips once again.

Slowly you began to climb on top of him, straddling his body. You felt as he ran his hands over your body feeling everything he could. You kissed him deeply inhaling his scent. You moaned in his mouth feeling your body push down. You slowly began to rock your hips, dry humping him.

You felt as his now fully erected cock pushed into your body, hitting your wet core. “Mmhm” you moaned slightly feeling the pleasure hit you. You peppered kisses along his jaw, trailing them down . You kissed each inch of his skin. Showing chris the love he deserved, you smiled at him.

“You’re so perfect.” You spoke in a low voice. Chris watched as you climb farther down, leaving a trail of wet kisses. As you reached his pants you looked up.

“Can I take these off?” You asked lowly. You bit your lip in anticipation, wanting nothing more but to give him pleasure. With a slight nod he gave you permission. “Yes”

As you slid his pants down, he kicked them off as they landed on the floor. Your hands slowly came up as you reached him. Slowly you gently pressed your palm against his cock, pushing down slightly as you ran your hand in an upwards motion.

Chris moaned at the contact as he slowly threw his head back. As you looked up to watch his reaction, you saw as his jaw hung slack as small moans escaped. Smiling at him, you slowly placed small kisses to his clothed cock.

Bringing your hands up your tucked you fingers in the waistband of his boxers. As chris watched you, he slowly saw as you tugged his boxers off slowly. Teasing him you stopped. You smiled at him, as you placed one kiss directly above his cock. You watched as he twitched feeling his body heat up.

Slowly you tugged his boxers down throwing them to the floor. Chris now grew nervous as he looked away. As you look down you stared in awe at his body. He was truly so breathtaking. “So beautiful..” you whispered.

Slowly bringing your hands up, you gently grabbed his cock wrapping your small hands around him. He was an average size, and he was neatly shaved. For a guy who looks like he wouldn’t have the best hygiene he was kept clean and smelled nice.

As your hands lingered on him he whimpered. He watched as you admired him, feeling loved. As precum dropped from his tip you slowly wiped it with your finger, using it as lube. Slowly beginning to jerk him, he lost himself in the feeling. Slowly his breaths grew heavier. Watching as you jerked him slowly he moaned loudly, the feeling too good.

As you tugged at him more it became harder to compose himself. Feeling his body twitch under your touch, his stomach caved in. As he felt hit stomach tighten his body grew stiff. Watching as ropes of white cum flew from him. He moaned, sighing slightly. He had small drops of sweat that made his hair stick to his forehead. As he huffed, his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Slowly you licked the remains of his fluids, tasting the sweet and salty mixture. You hummed at the taste as you licked every drop clean. Pulling yourself upwards you peeling your clothes from your body. Discarding them to the floor you returned to your original position.

As you laid beside chris, he pulled your body closer closing the small gap between you. Feeling his cock slowly push into you, you moaned. Letting out small babbles of incoherent words, you held onto his shoulder steadying yourself.

As your body laid beside him you slowly began to move your body, feeling his cock push into you further. As you let out small moans, he cradled your body. Pulling you closer he slowly rocked his hip, pushing himself in and out of you. Feeling your walls squeeze him.

He moaned softly against your neck, feeling his body sink further into yours. “Oh chris..” your words sending pleasure straight to his cock. You praised him though his movements, pushing him over the edge.

Feeling your walls clench around him you sucked in a breath. Feeling your gut turn your eyes rolled back. Lost in the feeling you felt yourself choke on the air, crying from the pleasure. 

With a couple more final thrust, you felt your stomach tighten and release. Watching as you painted his cock white he followed soon after. Pulling out of you, he came on your stomach. Moaning together you both looked at your mess, feeling happier than ever.

As you lay beside each other, you share another kiss. Pulling away you face grew hot. “I can’t believe we just did that..” chris spoke lowly. He was in pure shock. He never thought he’d lose his virginity to you. “I’m happy we did.” Your voice beamed. You smile at him, pulling his body as close as you could.

Grabbing a cloth Chris wiped your messes, leaving your body clean. As he sunk back into his bed he sighed letting out a breathy laugh. “Thank you.” He mumbled. You gently pressed your head to his chest as your eyes shut softly.

As you laid in bed your bodies tucked under the blankets, you cuddled your body into his. Savoring the warmth and love. You both felt the comfort that you had always wanted.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @kayeeaa @ribread03 @meatballlover10 @mattslolita @sophand4n4 @riasturns @nickysturnss

[fatal-blow]

having some thoughts on stretching...certainly the way most people stretch might not be as helpful as it could be, verging on mildly harmful if done spectacularly wrong but

okay. so the purpose of a stretch is to lengthen a muscle that has spent too much time being clenched. the second, secret purpose that i think should be attributed to stretching is to exercise the muscles that oppose the muscle you are stretching, which typically are underused (on account of the target muscle being overused)

for example, take the biceps and triceps on the upper arm. in simplest terms, these two muscles oppose each other: the biceps fold the arm, while the triceps straighten it.

now lets say that the biceps are overused and need a stretch. traditional wisdom says to straighten the arm and hold a stretch--not for long, just less than ten seconds. repeat a few times. done.

its not wrong, per se, but i think it could be tweaked to get better results.

the way ive been stretching, is i do short bursts. i dont hold stretches for longer than a second, i do it a few times in succession. every time i do it, i pay attention to A) the sensation that the stretch gives me and B) how far i can push the stretch, trying to go a little further each time.

which this technique, i have a better handle on what i'm accomplishing with the stretch, and it also gives me an idea of where i need to massage as well.

firstly, the sensation you feel when stretching, whether its painful or just uncomfortable, generally matches triggerpoint patterns (the stuff in my pinned post)! so you can do the stretch, take note of what you feel, and then look for the closest match. massage that spot, try again, and generally the stretch will be easier/actually have results.

secondly, by doing short bursts where you try to push a little further each time, you can see how much range of motion you can regain with each tiny stretch, and therefore be able to measure your own progress.

and with these two things, you can gain a pretty solid idea of when a stretch ISN'T working. if you aren't able to push further, it's too painful, or if massage doesn't make the stretch easier, this can be a sign that you're in the wrong spot. usually this means that you need to A) move closer to the body and/or B) move further down the body. going back to the tricep/bicep example, moving from stretching the bicep to the shoulder, or to the pectoral, will allow you to make progress again. you can take this further, all the way down the body to the legs, allowing you to sniff out the true culprit.

its a method ive grown very fond of, because even with the guidance of physiotherapists i never had any sort of sense that i was making progress with stretching. i didnt understand what it was meant to do for me, and had no idea how to tell if it was doing what it's supposed to do. im also hopeful that it can be of use to people who don't know muscle anatomy the way i do, because there's no way i'm going to expect people to learn all that just to get better!

[aziraphales-library]

Hiiiii, i hope you're all having an amazing day on whichever day this gets seen, i owe you my life for running this incredible blog 💛💛💛

Would you happen to know of any meet cute human au fics in which Crowley is a cat dad? (preferably M or E rated, but im not that picky) There's just something very endearing to me about Crowley owning a cat that i can't explain...

Thank you in advance for your help!! 💛

Hello! Here are some fics in which Crowley has a cat...

with the help of a cat, or two by whicorzoo (G)

In which the cat in the window of the flat right across from Crowley's is unfairly perfect, so on a particularly whimsical night, he decides to put up a sign in his window to tell his neighbor as much. By morning, he's forgotten about it, until he sees it in his window and regrets the decision entirely. He expects to have his cool, intimidating facade never taken seriously again. He does not expect a response.

Pass the Star by mageofthepeople (E)

An Ineffable Wives roller derby AU Azalea Fell meets Antoinette Crowley at her first roller derby bout with a new league. After an incident leads to a trip to A&E, the two are drawn to one another but Crowley is reluctant to potentially ruin a great friendship for something more.

But, soft! by On1OccasionFork (M)

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out; And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me. -Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene ii Crowley's life is going well. He's got his shop, his friends, and a new flat with a balcony perfect for a few plants. That's when things start to get complicated.

love like yours (will surely come my way) by CCs_World (T)

Dr Zira Fell is a new professor of theology at St Beryl's University. His first day there he meets the mysterious and enchanting Dr AJ Crowley, an art history professor and a painter. They almost immediately become friends, and spend most of their time getting lunch together, talking, drinking wine, making art, and falling slowly in love with one another. Featuring cameos of everyone's favorite (and least favorite) characters, gratuitous descriptions of paintings, long text messaging conversations, and one cranky cat.

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And...it does not go at all well, until it does. A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way. +++ “So what’s your deal?” “My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.” “Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound. “It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?” “Arrangement?” Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums *before* eleven? Instead of after?” Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

Whickber Street by Caedmon (E)

Anthony J. Crowley doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy. He’s finally quit his old job and is opening his childhood dream: a comic book shop. All of the neighbors are great, but the bookseller seems to hate him… Aziraphale Eastgate grew up in his great grandfather’s shop. Now he runs it and lives above it. He loves everything about his life on Whickber Street…. but the new proprietor down the street has him terribly, terribly vexed. Sparks fly when these two meet, and Aziraphale vows to hate him forever. Fergus, meanwhile, sets a timer. Looks like Cupid has come to Soho.

- Mod D

[nico-sees-dead-people]

*nico just nods, he knows how hard its been for will and he kinda predicted somethijg like this he sits properly on tje ground and pats tje space next to him as a “cmer” gesture*

of course

*he takes out two of the first letters he wrote and begins to read*

dear will,

Mr D told (read forced ) me to write to you even though I exactly give these letters to you something about process processing my motions and it might even make me feel better which sounds like bullshitt to me but I’d rather not end up a dolphin so here we are, I love you and you have amnesia. I love you and you don’t even know my full name anymore. Its niccolo by the way niccolo di angelo it would be nice to hear you say it again I think, i suppose ill just tell you it in the morning we will find it out from one of the medical files. I wonder if it will still be the same as it was before when I hear it, will your voice still sound fond. Will it just be the doctor voice you use for everyone else? I’m not sure which would hurt more. I’m not sure I want to know, but I’ll tell you anyway my name I mean and I’ll keep coming to visit. how could I stay away? Youre still Will after all, even if right now you cant be mine. Ill always be yours though, no matter what, youre stuck with me im afraid, even if i do have to listen to all of your dad jokes again because you dont remember telling me (i actually secretly think theyre funny and since youll probablt never read this i can admit it safely). Its odd missing someone who is right there, youre still you after all, you still smile tje same, still have the same shitty fashion (no, neon green flipflops are not “in” amd have neber BEEN IN honestly william) but you dont smile at me the same and i cant help but he jealous of those you do

Well, I wrote my feelings and I still feel like shit and Mr D is a dirty liar but that’s really not a surprise.

love, nico

[in the morning]

*nico wakes before @dr-flipflops and sighs looking at him on the sofa so gently uses some shadows to move him into the bed, tucking him in and smoothing his hair back and scribbling a note reading “morning sleepyhead, here’s your reminder to drink some fucking water and eat more than a muffin and also to let your mother know that you have a cough or so help me hades solace ill do it myself, ill probably be gone when you read this because i have to pick aria up from sally’s but ill be back at somepoint because your mom made me promise, love you dont die see you soon” before whispering “love you” and leaving the room to speak to naomi*

nico: good morning mrs solace uhm.. sorry for intruding i didnt exactly plan to come it was more accidental shadowtravelling episode

naomi: nonsense, you know youre always welcome here, even after everythin’

nico (watery smile): yeah i know, how is he, will i mean, he doesnt seem.. happy

naomi: hes as well as he can be in this situation, he’d be doin’ better if he found it easier t’ let people in, if he let you properly communicate with him but… i also can’t blame him for his reaction

nico: neither can i, and i know i messed up, im trying to fix it i just- i don’t know how and.. *his voice breaks* i miss him and so does ari

naomi: *smiles gently at him* he does care about you nico, hes just hurtin’, he misses you too *she pulls him into a hug* it’ll be alright in the end

Nico: *fully crying now* thanks mrs solace

naomi: *pats him on the back softly* anytime sweetheart, now, you said you had somethin’ t’give me?

nico: ah, yes, *he pulls a thick bundle of letters out of his aviator jacket* its a collection of letters ive written to will throughout his amnesia, explaining.. well just about everything, when he says hes ready and wants to know then he can read all of them regardless if he wants to see me or not

naomi *smiling*: thats a lovely idea hon, very thoughtful of you, ill give them to him once you’ve gone back though, the topic is sensitive enough without…

nico *nodding*: without the added stress of my presence, i was just about to say that, besides i have to pick up aria from her aunt sally’s, she had a sleepover the past couple of nights

naomi: you should bring her, next time you come, i know will don’t remember but i do, an’ i miss my granddaughter

nico *smiling*: i will mrs solace dont worry, she misses you too, and thank you, for everything

naomi: dont thank me sweetheart its been my pleasure

*nico begins to wave goodbye before noticing will standing in the doorway*

[stormyoceans]

MONICA'S INCREDIBLY BIASED TOP 5 GL SHOWS OF 2024

1. the loyal pin. a period piece QL with a (believable) happy ending and a fairytale-like quality to it that was able to charm me from the very first episode. while the pace of the story can definitely be slow at times, i was personally just too absorbed in the world that this show created to mind it. the display of traditions, customs, and food from thai culture, along with the beautiful cinematography and the colorful cast of characters, all helped to achieve this fully immersive experience, giving the perfect frame for anin and pin’s romance. becky as anin was also a revelation.

2. ayaka-chan wa hiroko-senpai ni koishiteru. I ADORE THIS LITTLE SHOW WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL. i admit that, as a bisexual woman myself, i found the bisexual erasure pretty maddening at first, however i am willing to forgive it in the face of how bright, lively, sweet, and at the same time deep and full of emotion this series is. it’s an age difference office romance that actually addresses the generational gap between the leads by exploring how society’s view on queerness changed throughout the years, and it does so by being funny, delicate, and unapologetically lesbian.

3. reverse 4 you. this is where my bias comes through, because while this show is far from perfect, i have the biggest soft spot for it. in general i tend to really enjoy stories that feature any kind of time related powers, but compared to others the true strength of this series is the familial bond between wa and vi, which shines as much (if not more) than the romantic relationship between wa and four. i do feel like the story needed at least one more episode to wrap up the loose ends more neatly, as some things kinda left me baffled and pretty confused, but my love for this little family of three makes me willing to overlook everything else.

4. pluto. if my meter of judgement to make this list had only consisted in chemistry and performance, then this show would have definitely landed in the first three spots, as namtan and film are incredible in it (the bridge scene in episode 11 is one of the most memorable of the year for me), however some of the plot points don’t sit quite right with me, and the execution of others was a bit lacking, so i unfortunately had to detract a few points. still, i enjoyed the show a lot: it presented a unique story in an interesting way, there was never a dull moment, and not once i skipped the intro because the OST is just amazing.

5. the secret of us. this show being so low in the list doesn't sit quite right with me, but at the same time it doesn't have the originality or the effectiveness in storytelling that other ones have. what it has, however, are ling and orm showcasing fantastic chemistry and very natural acting, which elevated a plot that im not usually particularly fond of (exes meeting again years later) and gave a lot of personality to their characters. the happy ending also feels earned, and some of the side characters are very memorable.

+ honorable mention (because once again, im a cheater)

23.5. i wanted to do a quick shout-out to this show because i feel like the fandom tends to give it a way harsher judgement than it deserves. while the second half did have a few things that bothered me, i still find this show a very accurate representation of teenage emotions, and the way it depicts young queer love healed the part of me that didn't have this kind of series growing up. all in all, it brought me a lot of comfort, and im incredibly grateful for that.

[veronicangel]

LOSER MONOLOGUE

daisuke - mouthwashing

cw: angst angst angst angst, depression, hint of starvation

he didn't know how he could be so stupid.

"(your name) i really like you and you're just so amazing to be around you're funny and you always laugh at my jokes and-"

why did he think you would feel the same way? how could he think that?

"daisuke..."

he tried to forget the feelings he had for you, but he can't stop his feelings.

"and i think you're so gorgeous too and you always make me feel good about myself and-"

why did he want you so bad? what is it about you he can't let go of? why does he want to talk to you, to laugh with you, to make out with you? why does he want anything from you?

"daisuke please listen to me..."

why did he think this would work out in his favor? nothing ever does. he isn't anything important, even his own parents think so.

"yes, yes , you're right, i'm listening"

nothing ever good comes out of him being around. just goes to show with the crash happening just as soon as he joined the crew. the least he could do is give his own rations to everyone else. he isn't that hungry anyways.

"you're really sweet and handsome daisuke but..."

he was so stupid. that smile he had on his face was useless. he should've known you wouldn't feel the same way. he's nothing compared to you.

"but i don't feel that way about you daisuke. you only think you like me because im the only person available"

why couldn't he show you he liked you for you and not because he has no one else? why could he never express himself? either way it wouldn't have mattered, he isn't enough for you.

"that's not true! i do like you so much (your name)!"

he felt the tears pricking at his eyes again. why is the only thing he can do is cry? why can't he get up and win you over? why can't he get over you?

"please don't argue with me about this daisuke. i don't want this to affect our time on the ship together. i do like you, as a good friend"

he cried into his own hands, how pathetic. he cried at the thought of you. anytime he looks at you, or hears your name, his stomach flips and gets butterflies. you didn't see him in that way though. why would you? everyone knows he's lazy and pathetic. everyone on the crew thinks so and everyone back home does too, so why wouldn't you think that too.

"oh i understand, im sorry for wasting your time. let's forget this ever happened am i right! haha!"

he remembers the moment so clearly. he remember the pitiful smile you gave him before walking back to whatever you were doing before he got to you. why did it have to be like this? he can't stop himself from fantasizing. he can't help himself from imagining how things would be back home. how you and him would move in together, get a cat, and live happily alongside each other, not on a space ship that was doomed from the start.

"you mean so much to me. i wish you'd look at me the way i look at you. i wish i could be with you. i just want to feel the warmth of your body next to mine. to see your smile. i want to play with your hair, see it shine under the sun as it hits you just right. i want to watch the sun sink behind the heavens with you. talk, laugh, make out. anything. i just want anything from you."

he wrote it all down on a random sheet of paper and the only pen he could find on the whole ship. the tears in his eyes dripped onto the paper, ruining his already messy writing. it didn't matter though. he figured you wouldn't want to read his loser monologue anyways.

sorry for the angst guys im depressed so my faves have to be depressed too but for reals who would reject my baby daisuke 🙁

[yoredoesmore]

Hello! I saw you opening request again, can I have a request for soshiro and fem reader where they spend time each other for holiday?

Maybe they're having a cafe date in this cold season or maybe ice skating or spend time alone together?

Memories of Snow | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Fem!Reader

genre: /romance/fluff overload

summary: You take your boyfriend out on a cute date to help him relax during the holidays.

wc: 1,7k

a/n: I'm falling to my knees, rubbing my hands together and apologizing for taking this long for your request. please accept my apology anon please please please 😣

Enjoy :>

It was that time of the year again. Tokyo sat covered in a crystal white blanket and the freezing temperatures urged everyone to take out their coats and fuzzy winter scarfs. Christmas lights illuminated the streets and the smell of baked goods and hot chocolate lingered in the air.

It was a beautiful time to be, and your favorite.

Your mitten covered hands tried their best to work the phone in your hands. The cold air threatened to dry out your skin the second it came in contact with it, which is why you refused to take them out of the warm fabric. You knew better now.

It was already five past seven and Soshiro had yet to respond to all your messages.

“Im ag the Christmas makest where eate hiu”

Soshiro has long adjusted to your typos, therefore you did not bother to correct your mistakes (not that it was possible with these things on anyway).

Worried that something might have happened to the man, you tried to dial his number but upon the first sound ringing up, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

“Someone's impatient.” Soshiro placed a gentle hand on your cheeks before leaning in for a kiss. His lips moved gently over yours, capturing your heart in a swift motion.

“Yes, because you're usually on time.” You rolled your eyes in a playful manner as you pulled away from him and smiled, immediately forgiving his actions.

“So, what does my Snow Angel have planned for us?” His hands wrapped around your fuzzy mittens. One thing you have noticed was that Soshiro loved matching your nickname to whatever season or event was currently taking place. It was a cute habit of his, one that you have gotten deeply attached to.

The both of you began to walk down the christmas market, taking in the beautiful scenery around you and the sweet smell of roasted almonds. You have been looking forward to this day ever since he got the green light to take this day off. Attending the christmas market was like a tradition, one the both of you have grown quite fond of.

“Sooo, it occurred to me that we never went ice skating together and lucky us, the market renovated their ice skating rink! I got us two tickets for that and afterwards we can grab something to eat and look around a bit more.”

While you were talking, Soshiro couldn't help but lose himself in your presence. your eyes shone with such anticipation and joy, it caused his heart to melt the cold around him away.

He was always so on edge at work, as the vice president it was his duty to take care of everything around him and protect his division after all. It was a constant pressure that rested on his shoulders. But with you around him, that weight was lifted and he was able to enjoy the moment.

When it came to dates specifically, it was usually you who took care of everything. The reservations, the schedule, the dress code– you loved taking care of it all. Of course it was always nice to see Soshiro handle those things when he found the time but most of the time, all he had to do was show up and take care of the financial aspects.

Upon arriving at the skating rink, you noticed how many people were already enjoying the sports. Couples, families and friends danced around on the ice, having an enjoyable time. You have been looking forward to this for ages now and you couldn't wait to try this out with your boyfriend. But as you turned around to look at his face, he had a..less excited expression on.

“What's wrong, Soshiro?” you asked, pulling your tickets out of your bag.

“Don't tell me that you have never done this before.” Your words were meant to be taken as a joke, you didn't even look at him as you spoke that sentence but when Soshiro didn't laugh or make any other signs that he hadn't taken your words to heart, you paused in your actions.

“No way..”

“It's not that big of a deal, I mean how hard can this be.” The man crossed his arms over his chest, the usual sassy expression hanging on his lips. He was avoiding eye contact as well, what a cutie.

You wanted to tease Soshiro for this. Poke at his ego a little and drop a few jokes but you decided against your worse judgment. Your boyfriend was amazing at many things, so many that it was painful to compare your achievements. Thus, having him admit that he was unable to do such simple thing as holding himself up on the ice did feel like a win for you.

This was going to be interesting.

*

He was exceptional.

Soshiro moved on the ice as if he was born to do so. Your boyfriend made it seem effortless, keeping his posture while elegantly moving through the crowd. It was a sight to behold, watching the man who almost stumbled over himself upon entering the icy rink now holding himself up like it was nothing.

Meanwhile you stood in the corner, admiring his skills.

You had told him that you needed a break but in reality you simply wished to admire the man.

It should not have been that much of a surprise to you, after all you were well aware of his abilities as noted before. The master of blades and swift movements was bound to find his calling on the ice. And not to mention– he looked unbelievably handsome.

Once the lap was finished, Soshiro returned to your side. His chest heaved up and down in order to regain his stamina and his rapid breaths visualized in the cold evening wind as misty clouds.

“This is funnier than expected.” Soshiro smiled, placing his hands on his hips.

“You sure are enjoying yourself, Soshiro.”

“Sure am. My girlfriend is excellent at picking fun activities after all.”

A knock of wind suddenly hit your face as you found yourself being dragged back into the center of the ring. “Let's try it together!”

Soshiro didn't even wait for your answer as he urged your stiff body closer to his. But you did not complain nor refuse, as you were all too used to Soshiro's sudden antics and therefore simply followed behind him.

You haven't laughed like this since breakfast this morning. Soshiro held your hands while moving along to the music. Your feet followed him, matching his pace and rhythm. The people around you almost became nonexistent in your eyes– it was simply the two of you who existed in the moment.

He held your hands as you tried a trick and pulled you back up after failing miserably. But you just laughed it off, not paying the failure any attention.

But before you knew it an hour passed and it was time to clear the ice. Soshiro and you went for one last round before the magical time was over.

“What a bummer. I could have gone for another hour.”

Hearing him say this earned a smile out of you. The smile on your face sat brightly as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled him along.

“The day's not over, so let's find something else to do!” Soshiro welcomed your enthusiasm by giving your hands a soft squeeze.

You ended up walking around the market for another hour, relishing in the festive spirit, enjoying the moment and stopping by almost every food stand. And just when you believed that the night could not go any better it started snowing.

Tiny crystals of ice landed on your skin and melted on impact. This was no weather to return home to, Soshiro said and guided you towards the nearby river.

Less people now walked the street but those who were outside enjoyed the view of the water along with the snow.

“Remember last year, when we went to the christmas market and it started snowing just like this? A little earlier than now but it was so beautiful.”

“And so cold as well. Yer fingers almost froze off.” The both of you laughed at the memory, the image of you desperately trying to heat up your fingers by rubbing them against each other so clear in your mind.

You were about to continue the story, when all of a sudden you found your arms being lifted up to your chest. One by one, Soshiro removed your mittens, until your fingers stood exposed in the cold winter air.

“Instead of buying yourself gloves Y/n, ya asked me to hold yer hand instead, but im pretty sure that mine were just as cold as yours."

Soshiro chuckled. "And I wasn't allowed to wear my gloves anymore either, ya said somethin bout 'let's suffer together'. Froze my one hand off that day but the other one did feel kinda warm."

And just like that, Soshiro took your hand in his and smiled. It wasn't a grin or one of his sheepish smiles but one that instantly warmed your hands and heart.

“So..would it be selfish of me to ask you to do the same for me now?”

Your words temporarily got stuck in your throat as you found yourself unable to answer him. Soshiro was so smooth with his words, catching you off guard in the moments you least expected it. But most importantly, he was sweet and caring and meant everything he said.

“You're already holding them, silly.” You somehow managed to reply, slightly flustered by his tender smile.

“And I already feel so much better.” He replied, pocketing our mittens with a sheepish smile.

The snow continued to fall over the world as the two of you walked down the river, hand in hand, while enjoying the beautiful scenery and old memories.

[billiessillywife]

pov: you slowly start to get back to that sad phase and billie notices and helps you

warnings: talk abt suicidal thoughts and js really sad but also really cute fluff at the end

youre in the embrace of your warm and soft blankets getting cozy , in the comfort of you and your girlfriend’s house. girlfriend woah that sounds so odd coming from your mouth . billie’s been the perfect partner she’s been there for you always providing you with the affection you craved, you both helped each other in more ways than one. you 2 never talked about this but in each others heart you knew that this was so right so perfect it filled your heart and even overflowed it.

yet youre here in ur bed and ur doing it again. the constant over thinking , a battle , between ur own voice and thoughts and the one of ur enemy

“ the other voice the evil one”

what if billie decided i’m not good enough

i’m getting ugly anyways she’ll leave me

fuck this i’m just gonna end it

what if

what if

what if?

this is the reality of your own head its what you go through . a predisposed action in a way , it’s in ur nature . but ur sick of it it’s getting too much and ur tired so tired , usually billie helps you with navigating through it always reassuring you trying to keep u busy so that u dont fall back . unfortunately ur sweet baby is at the studio working on some stuff for her upcoming album . you’re so proud of her she’s your star an angel in every single way . billie is your destiny and forevermore . but you can’t help and wonder what if ur not what she wants . billie goes on her day meeting multiple people ones who are 100% really attractive maybe she falls for another girl? boy? maybe she starts to realize ur way too fucked up.

you’ve always been in question of ur own identity ur sexuality ur self image . growing up with certain norms you follow and that’s it . no in between the lines . but you fell right through when u realized that u liked girls the same way you thought you liked guys. the butterflies , the warmth , the softness , gentle touch so pure. one hell of a journey yet u fought it , went through the guilt , the thoughts really overwhelming you in so many ways through that u lost ur family some friends too bur ur here . and you met billie.

you run a hand through ur silky soft brown hair and take a deep breath

alr i got this , i’m okay

you go about ur way to the bathroom to wash ur face and get the mood right , billie is supposed to be coming in a few with some sushi and a movie night is scheduled for you two so u better get ur shit straight right?

you stare at ur reflection from the big mirror in ur lavish bathroom. and there it is , what you truly hated and the thoughts run around again

you over analyze each and every little detail of ur face and body tears start to form and u lean ur body on the counter to js take another breath

yr eyes look so tired billie is gonna notice

ur hair is greasy and need washing

u look like u gained a few pounds

stop eating and go to the gym

do something productive

don’t mope around

just stop.

tears left and it’s never ending

billie’s keys unlock the door and u hear her footsteps you can hear sharks adorable noise greeting his mama .

ur breathing grows heavier and faster and it all comes to you panic panic.

hey babyyy billie enters the house with a enthusiastic tone and the take out ready

bil im coming down give me a sec .

u mutter trying not to break ur voice and give billie a idea she can’t know.

you can’t stand you can’t speak and everything is so blurry u can barley see billie going into ur master bedroom and the bathroom door wide open so she sees u and panic struck her eyes.

layla layla omg baby whats wrong? .

billie falls down to the floor with you she’s seen this before but she genuinely thought u were getting better but u masked it so well.

layla honey breath with me tell me what’s wrong can i hold ur hand pls .

billie’s soft voice cascades through the room and ur ears u feel them pop and u can feel ur surrounding you look up at billie and you see her icy blue ocean eyes meeting ur brown ones.

you start to pick up on ur breath no words have been spoken till now billie understands that u won’t speak until ur stable again . you slowly pick ur trembling hands and lace them with billie’s .

bbbillie im okay i just i thought a lot and this made me liiike well this i’m sorrry pls don’t leave me pls i love you baby.

ur voice breaks again after that sentence . truth is your mind was a dangerous place a whole war zone there and u were frightened .

you’ve always dealt with the thoughts of hurting urself yet u never had the courage to go abt it . actually do it but it’s been a lingering thought for so long and like said before u were so tired.

you basically went by ur day normally u ate , u showered u went out with billie and even friends . but once ur mind was alone it ran and ran all the possibilities and thoughts come rushing in a hindered miles per hour. you went back to ur old habits as well eating to fill the void but when u see ur self in the mirror it’s like looking right back at the devil an awful sight. and the cycle begins again and again

billie dosen’t speak another word but she holds you so tight like never before . u can smell her vanilla scent through her shirt and it’s comforting its home where you belong . she keeps you in her arms all night with the food outside getting cold . but she’s with you and she’s got you she whispers i love you and soft whispers to you .

as long as you got her nothings gonna happens

youre okay now.

[totallyanopossum]

Ghost cares for sick gender neutral reader with happy ending bath. 

Ghost Drabble

He comes home to his sweetheart, usually when he enters and the door opens they come bounding towards him, but not this time. He looks to see if they are in the kitchen baking, or in the living room cozied up watching something, or on the balcony enjoying her plants, but they are not there making him panic. He tosses his bag aside and rushes to the bedroom. The lights are dim but they are there, swaddled in blankets with their stuffed animal watching one of their comfort movies.

Their reaction time is slowed, but they turn to look at Simon in the threshold, and are so relieved that he is back,they hate being sick alone makes them feel scared.

Y/N- “ Si”

He can hear how tired and relieved they are to have him back by their tone and rushes to their bedside. Immediately feeling their forehead and checking their pulse, both seem okay.

Simon- “ lovey what's wrong?”

Y/N- “ im sick, exhausted ”

Simon- “ its okay, im here now, ill take care of ya”

Simon climbs into bed with them, taking his place as big spoon fitting into his impression divot in the mattress. He gently pulls their against him, their bodies flush together, his missed this being so close to them. He missed the feel of their body, how they fits perfectly against him, their scent, their soft skin, they are his missing piece. He hates that his sweetheart is sick and that he cant scare away or beat up their illness, this will require making some soup and a quick run to the pharmacy. 

But first he needs to hold them, for both their goods. So he can reconnect with them, which really just means a lot of sniffing and petting . And this reassures them, takes away their fears; fear of their big guy not coming home and fear of being sick alone. 

He brushes their messy bangs out of the way and kisses their forehead, while he asks about their symptoms so he can get the right meds. He doesn't want to leave them but after the one errand he wont be leaving their side again, and this must be done to help them get better.

Simon- “ ill be right back with your medicine lovey”

Y/N- “ be quick”

Simon- “ nothing could keep me from you”

The pharmacy isn't far so he walks instead of risking some traffic mishap. Anybody who saw him power walking, well more like marching down the pavement quickly moved aside worried they would be mowed down if they got in his way. He was radiating Dont Fucking Get In My Way energy the whole trip, scaring the pharmacy tech badly. 

Once home his demeanor softens again. He helps sit them up, giving the medicine, then heads to the kitchen to prepare the soup. He gets everything set up for them on the counter then heads to the bedroom to get them.

Simon- “ soups ready”

They sit up and move to stand but he stops them, stepping in and scooping them up in his arms and carries them to the kitchen, setting them in the counter chair in front of their meal. 

Y/N- “ thanks Si” 

Simon- “ you know id never let your feet touch the group again if you ask”

Y/N- “ I know, if only I didn't like seeing our height difference so much”

They eat their soup and toast while Simon sits beside them, elbow resting on the counter as he watches them eat. At first they had found this behavior a bit unsettling and awkward but they have learned that he's just infatuated with everything they do, from eating a meal, to brushing their hair, to choking on his fat cock. 

They really wish they weren't sick for his return, which means they can't give him a proper home coming, big emphasis on the cuming. On the day he returns its their things to jump in bed and pleasure each other till one, or both of them passes out, but this time that's canceled making them feel a bit guilty.   

Y/N- “ Simon, im sorry im sick”

Simon- “ Dont be, its alright, cant he helped”

Y/N- “ But your homecoming, we always-”

Simon- “ Awe thats what your worried about, Dont be Lovey once your better ill ravish you proper” 

Y/N- “ But, umm, could we take a bath instead be close” 

Simon- “ yes, it will help your congestion to”

So once they are done eating he gets the bath ready, testing the temp, filling the tub, and adding some bath salts. He was apprehensive of baths when they first tried to make him take one, and even more so about the bath salts and additives they put in the water but it was a much better experience then he expected, not only didn't the additives smell good but they relaxed his muscles, now it's something he does often with them.

Simon strips fully and goes to get them, loving the way their pupils blow wide, mouth hands agape, and eyes trail over him landing between his legs. He can't help but let out a chuckle at his effect on his sweetheart, he's glad that no matter how many times they have seen him, he still elicits such a strong response.

Sweetheart just lifts their arms up ready for Simon to strip them, completely giving in and giving themselves over to him, all while their cheeks are turning red. They know Simon wont fuck them while they are sick but doesnt mean they cant enjoy the view, in the beginning they hated how easily they blushed but Simon loves that being able to easily see the effect he has.

He carries them to the bath, settling them on his lap, positioning himself between their thighs loving the feel of their soft plush things against his cock. He knows sweetheart isnt in any condition to fuck, especially not the rough way they do it, he just cant hold back with them. In the beginning he was worried about being too rough with them and tried holding back but his sweetheart is perfect and loves the way Simon lets loose on them, drilling them into the mattress, bending them in new ways reaching deeper and deeper, or pressing them into the wall as he holds them up. It did take some work at first stretching sweethearts holes enough to take him but it was so much fun, Simon has engrained those memories deep never wanting to forget the way they begged, whined, moaned in painful pleasure, the moment he first finally went balls deep, the first time they let him try anal, the first time they came together, the way the lines of the pillow imprint on their face after drilling them into the mattress relentlessly. 

He got lost in thought but now quickly comes back to reality as sweetheart clenches their thighs around him, tilts their head back looking up at him batting her lashes with that playful smirk. 

Simon- “ Lovey you don't have to”

Y/N- “ but I want to, please Si let me make you feel good, then I'll be good and rest, okay?”

But they hadn't waited for an answer while saying that they had already started to give him a thigh-job. He's already gone tense under them, breath already hitching, fingers already grasping at their body digging into their flesh.

Simon- “ Y..your always naughty”

Y/N- “do you want me to stop?”

Simon- “ N..No”

They clench their thighs around his thick fat cock tighter, making their big man turn into a whimpering mess. They love making Simon feel good, pleasuring him, love breaking his composer, turning him into their whispering mess of a man completely at their mercy. 

He's been dreaming of them for months, his hand nothing in comparison to his sweetheart. All that anticipation makes his finish embarrassingly quick,as he climaxes he grabs on to sweetheart wrapping his large arms around them, holding them tight as he spills a large load all over their thighs and into the water. 

Simon- “ I love you sweetheart”

Y/N- “ I love you too Simon”

It takes a few minutes for his breathing to return to normal, once it does he releases his tight grip on sweetheart, hoping he didn't squeeze too hard.

Simon- “ Did I hold too tight lovey?”

Y/N- “no, i missed your hugs”

Simon- “ we’er gonna need to shower”

Y/N- “ in a minute”

After rinsing off, he gets them both changed and cozied up in bed, finishing the movie they were watching before. 

[urstruly-ghst]

i dont want you like a best friend - leona kingscholar

in which you admit to leona, which was something that you've promised to never do

author's note: inspired by dress by taylor swift.

cw: suggestive, alcohol, desperate kisses (bcz .. leona.)

golden tattoo. that was something you had on your collarbone, it was a simple tattoo you got on a whim. well, if you call alcohol and some peer pressure a "whim," have your shot at it. you woke up with that tatoo and a new electrified sense of life.

to think the prince you consider someone rude and even downright pompous was someone who'd bring you some sense of semblance in nrc. leona kingscholar, someone whom you never thought would be willing to help you (or even glance at your direction), you discredit him more than you realize.

leona was a big softie, whether he'll ever admit that or not, it was obvious. that's why, slowly, you two became friends. best friends even. but above his hidden softie exterior, and "im not your friend" declarations was a passionate lion, he had such starvation you never could imagine.

at a random bar you both snuck into, you had drinks. it was fun, drinking, hitting the dance floor, ans accessing that sweet vip room thanks to leona's influence. however, as the night grew longer, you and leona snuck off. in the crowded room below you two, the party was still loud. yet in a quiet room, you and leona kingscholar are clawing each other with need as the kisses turned deeper. his hands brushed around your tattoo with a small smirk, it unknowingly matches him. maybe that's why you got it?

"herbivore, we need to stop sneaking around" leona mumbled as he pulled away for a moment to breathe before diving back in to kiss you.

"mmhm.. no.." you whine and amidst the kissing, your head reeled back with the dizzying passion and (delusional as it may sound, love.) you whine as the night was swept away again with leona being with you again.

as you both lay down on your bed, you glare as you noticed his name on the bedpost. it was like he marked your bed. leona smirks again and shrugs, saying he doesn't know what you're saying.

"admit it. you like my name on your bed, herbivore." he said sitting up to stretch. you protest—

"..." you stayed silent as the anger died down as you noticed his tail wrapping around you. you blush and wonder, what is he trying to do with you?

"leona, why do you keep doing this with me? you can easily stop this." eri asked as she looked confused. but then, before leona can answer, you blurt out words you promised yourself would never be spoken out loud.

"because leona, im starting to like you. every stolen glance, our moments like this, the secret kisses. leona, its getting to me! and this name, this tattoo. leona, just flat out say why! am i just a friend? a lover? a hookup?" you were unsure why you did that, was it the clarity hitting you? the teasing boiling over? what—?

did you just admit that. leona kingscholar, someone who's as quick witted and sharp, couldn't speak.

everything just stops.

"i don't want you." leona, said smugly. your heart was shattered, and you try to stand up, but he grabbed you,

"i don't want you like a friend. i literally fucking makeout with you, marked your bed with my name, even got a matching tattoo, and i sneak off with you! herbivore, are you really that dumb?" he laughed. you blink and he sighed rolling his eyes. you couldn't see it, but he had the faintest of smiles.

"i love you, herbivore. now stop this drama. let's nap, im sure i did a number on you"