#Y’know- Die- Dine-

[marvellous1917]

Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N�� you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

[ram-bam-writes]

RHO (Ridin’ Him Out) Pt. 2 [Hangman x NB Reader]

A/N: No apologies. Some plot. Mostly horny thoughts :>

Word Count: 2233

CW: Smut (explicit), fingering, semi-public fucking, truck kink, piv (wrap before tap), slight degradation, no beta we die like goose, etc

“Hey Hangman!” 

You peek up from your kindle to see Bradley grinning up at your boyfriend, two rusted axes he’d taken from Mav a while back in his hands. Your boyfriend, without even hesitating, stands up and strips off his flannel, stomping confidently over to his opposing pilot. Wild smirk and all, he takes one of them and spins it far too dangerously in his hands.

Everyone had just gotten finished setting up the camping lot. Bob and Nat had set up a small patio-like area right outside of their trailer with large tables, since they’d focus on being the dining area for the trip. Meanwhile, Bradley and his partner used their trailer area for the outdoor games and campfire as the lounge area. Rueben and Mickey set up their tent a few yards away from you and Jake’s truck, which, in your opinion, was far too grand for a simple camping trip. To each their own. Javy brought a more modest tent, something simple to share with his partner and their pup.

You and Jake had settled for a simple truck bed tent. It was easy, and you liked the coziness of it. After all, you had two other trailers to hang out in during the day if you needed, so you both only needed the tent for sleep. It came with a zippered entrance and a zippered top. The top would unzip to a mesh window, something Jake had gushed about the moment he saw it. He loved sleeping under the stars, and so did you.

Now, you and the rest of the group sit underneath the patio of Nat and Bob’s trailer. The sun is still pretty high despite it being 20:00, but it seems Bradley wants to show off to his sweetheart, and there’s no doubt Jake wishes to do the same to you. Had Javy not just gotten back from medical leave due to a dislocated shoulder, he probably would have joined. 

If only Jake knew what it would lead to…

You’re practically drooling as Jake’s sweat runs down his toned body. His hair is disheveled as he runs his fingers through the dirty blond locks, a lazy grin on his flushed face. He swings the axe again, breaking apart the pre-chopped logs Javy had agreed to bring. 

“Likin’ the view, sweetheart?” Your boyfriend asks in that all too familiar teasing tone.

You could only whistle, throat too dry to produce an audible sound. The way his fingers curled around the axe, and — gods — the way he grit his teeth as he swung it once again… It made you squirm in your seat, eyes already glossing over as you licked your lips. 

For the next 30 minutes you were greeted with the hot sight of your boyfriend’s muscles straining and tensing as he and Bradley battled it out. Eventually there was no wood left, and the two agreed a reluctant tie for the competition of who could go longest. 

“Alright, alright… a tie.” Bradley offered his hand with a lazy grin, Jake shaking it with a more arrogant one.

“For now…”

Jake plopped back on the camping chair next to yours, his hand immediately coming down to clasp around your thigh. The action made you jump, eyes widening as a quiet gasp fell from your lips. Your boyfriend raised a brow at you. His brows twitch as he process your reaction, and in half a second, his lips brush against your ear.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucked-up already, darlin’…” His voice is practically a damn purr. 

You push him away, desperate to keep your sanity for the time being, especially when Bob’s eyes flick to Nat’s for help as she snickers quietly. Nat had always been the one to catch onto these sorts of things, and she could do it for Bradley and his partner, too.

——

“That wasn’t fair, y’know…” You pouted, climbing up into the tent that rests atop the muddy Ram truck. 

“Mmm… I never said I’d go easy on you. C’mon, darlin’, you can last a few more days, can’t you?”

You could only huff in response, quickly changing into something more comfortable before settling down. You watch as your boyfriend’s eyes glitter when he sees you, a challenging look in them. You know that look all too well… 

You opt to fling his sleep shirt at him, muttering an on-brand, “Fuck you,” all the while. 

He zips the tent up behind himself, making a loud thud as he drops to his elbows next to you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was exhausted. Alas, you did know him better, and can only mentally die when you hear those heavy breaths fall from his mouth. 

You tried your hardest not to think about the rough surface beneath the blanket you lay on. If you thought any harder about it, you might actually combust. His truck, his brand-new, stupid fucking truck. The one that’s as beefy as any military-grade vehicle and as loud as any military jet. The one he treats just as roughly as he treats you in bed, leaving an equal amount of mess on both. 

He had no right to get that truck. No right at all. But you couldn’t argue with him when he pulled into the driveway of your apartment, a lazy, confident smirk filling out his features. He pulled the classic move of leaning against the truck’s door, arms crossed to give his biceps a chance to flex right in your face. If that wasn’t enough, he hadn’t changed out of his Navy Khaki’s, toothpick between his lips and aviators on his face. 

He knew what he was doing.

Every ride since then had been the same. His hands squeezing your thigh, fleeting glances here and there, all too teasing comments out of the blue. That man was conditioning you — and fuck if it wasn’t working. Before you knew it, your thighs would clench the moment you got into his truck, mouth salivating simply at the sight of the bed. Your mind wouldn’t give you rest, not when he revved the engine and let you feel the bass against your seat. Not when he’d play the heaviest, dirtiest songs and drive down an old dirt road, watching your eyes glaze over and your mouth part in the prettiest of sounds. 

Fuck it.

Your hands slam against the bed of his truck, and you used the force to push you up and over until your thighs are firmly planted on either sides of his hips. He made this problem, and he’d sure as hell fix it.

“There’s my pretty thing…” He purrs, hands firm on your hips as he bucks up into you. 

You mewl a pretty, breathy sound, eyes fluttering as you flop against his chest. The little energy you had to climb him has been spent, leaving your hands to rest against his chest and claw at his faded Navy shirt. Your mouth presses firmly against his neck, and his hand grips your scalp and pushes you further. The man always has a thing for marks, especially on his own body. 

“C’mon, hun… show ‘em fuckers what you can do…” His hips grind against yours, other hand snaking around your waist to ease you into a steady rhythm. 

He yanks your head back, releasing your scalp to press two fingers in between your lips. You eagerly suck the digits, far too used to the motion to think. All that runs through your mind is the haze of pleasure and the scent of sex already thick in the tent. Your tongue laps eagerly at those thick fingers, eyes rolling at the salty taste that coats them.

The hand around your waist strips you of your pajama bottoms, easily slipping off your underwear and holding you against himself. His hands swap places, tugging them away from from your mouth to see the spit drip down your lips.

“So messy…”

His dry fingers focus on that pleasure spot between your thighs, long strokes up and down just to tease. Edging that pleasure, keeping you high on your toes and drunk off your mind. And when his mouth wraps around your soft, perky nipples, the howl you let out might truly be mistaken for a jackal by the team. 

It takes a moment for your clouded, pleasure-filled mind to recognize the movements of his tongue. But when you feel the pattern of letters, you nearly cum right then and there. The pilot makes a mess of your chest, never relenting his sucks and licks and certainly never easing up on his strokes.

He releases your nipple with a sweet pop, eyes glittering dangerously. “Gotta be quiet, hun… don’t want the team peeking in, do ya?”

Fuck if that didn’t make you twitch.

“Perv…” He hisses, nipping your neck and forcing your head close to his chest with his dry hand, ignoring your hips for now. “My pretty, filthy little perv…”

You don’t get a chance to react. Before you know it, your face meets the cold bed of his truck. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved the blanket, but fuck if it wasn’t sexy as all hell to be forced against it. The cool metal shines from your spit.

“I know all about your little kink, darlin’…” Jakes fingers prod at your tight hole, slipping one finger in before curling it. “Can’t wait to finish this fucking trip… can’t wait to figure out how many damn ways I can fuck you in, on, and against this goddamn RHO…”

Tears pool on your lashes at his words, oh so humiliating yet oh so hot. He knocks the wind out of you not a second later, three fingers working to open you up, dragging against that pad of nerves deep within you. You fight against his hand to throw your head back and cry from the pleasure, but you’re left with your cheek firm against the truck bed, drool and tears pooling.

He feels the warmth of your insides clamping down on his fingers, that telltale warning you always give when you’re close. But you don’t get release just yet. No, he has other plans for you. You don’t fight when he hauls you up and onto your back. He’s rock hard because of you, dragging his wet tip against you before pressing an inch inside of you.

He always goes slow with you when he starts. The last thing he wants is to genuinely injure you. But once he’s in, once he recognizes that movement of your shoulders falling lax and walls easing up…

He goes fucking feral.

One arm holds Jake upright, his chest firm against yours to keep you pinned. The other if keeping your head pressed against his neck, lips stretching into a smile as he feels your familiar bites. You bite him, and you bite him hard. If he doesn’t bleed, he’ll sure as hell bruise. The thought makes his cock twitch, dragging the thickness in and out of you, veins pulsing against your walls. 

Your head spins, eyes rolled back as you babble incoherently. Nothing else mattered but the feel of his cock inside of you, that familiar warmth sending your mind into a frenzy. You pant and cry like a hound, the sweet sounds muffled by his sweat-slick skin. 

“That’s it baby… that’s it, c’mon… c’mon darlin’…” He licks and nips your earlobe, pants and moans falling from his own lips.

And you’re so close. So, so fucking close. All you want is to have him cum deep inside of you — to fill you up and mark you as his. To feel the thick wetness spill out from your roughed-up hole, to feel his tongue clean you up.

But he doesn’t give that to you. Not quite.

“Cum for me, hun… cum all over my fucking truck…”

He works you until you cum, wetness pooling beneath you on the black metal of his truck. And instead of summing inside of you like you so often to and he so often complies, he pulls out and lets his white-hot ropes spill out freely. Some of the sticky mess coats your thighs and abused hole, but most land on the metal beneath you.

You gasp, eyes glazed over as your head spins. Not only has your orgasm been ripped out of you like a goddamn pull-tab, but you’re flipped onto your belly before you get a chance to recover. You glance up to see him smirking down at you, a newer, more dangerous look in his eyes. His grip tightens in your scalp, the muscles in his arms flexing as he does so.

“Clean up your mess, you nasty little perv…” He purrs, pushing you down roughly until your lips hover over the mix of cum that coats his truck. “Clean your mess like a good little fuck…”

——

Bonus:

Nat is the first to speak the following morning when Jake slips out of the tent, you still sound asleep. Her eyes focus on glaring at your boyfriend. “Y’know… the RHO is soundproof. Just for reference.”

Rueben exhales deeply, rubbing the sleep from his face as he sits next to an equally exhausted Javy.

“Please use that tip. Mick’ is the only one with noise-cancelling headphones…”

The shit-eating grin your boyfriend has for the rest of the trip is unlike any of his smirks you’ve seen before.

[writtenontheport]

Just a Morning at Portland Row

pt.2 : Just an Afternoon at Portland Row

Finale: Just a Night at Portland Row

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Nothing, just a lot of romcom cheese, Pining, Idiots in Love, Lockwood and Reader don’t really interact in this much, but they do, just not directly, George and Reader friendship, Lucy and Lockwood Friendship, George and Lucy being the lomls

Notes: George being silly, Lockwood doesn’t actually show up until after the cut, Lucy being the loml and being silly, might do a part 2 if I feel like it, sorry if they’re a bit ooc, I haven’t actually written in a while so I might be rusty.

Summary: You don’t live at 35 Portland Row, but you visit daily. Some part of you might be able to make the excuse that you’re doing it simply to make sure your longest childhood friend doesn’t die of self-neglect, but your better majority, and unsurprisingly George Karim and Lucy Carlyle, know better than that.

Word count: 1.6k+

The sound of a whistling kettle flits down the hall, and you quickly pull it off the stove. You listen for a moment telltale footsteps creaking around 35 Portland Row, and are relieved when only silence calls back. It’s too early in the morning for any of them to be awake, if what Lockwood had told you yesterday about another case was true. It seemed so when nobody came down to check on the kettle, and long after, you’d made your tea and settled down on the dining table. You ran your hands over the thinking cloth, pressing on the spaces between the ink and hovering gently where there was any. George’s caricatures of the other two made you giggle, and Lucy’s sarcastic comments tickled you funny. Lockwood’s was especially interesting, because he would write to you as if he was sure you would be reading it.

‘bread in the bread bin about to go bad, try not to eat it’ He’d written, right beside where he’d carefully written your name. The ink on this one was new, so you know he wrote it recently. A chuckle works its way out of you, and you fish a pen from somewhere on the table to write, ‘threw it out already, got you a new loaf’.

You’d always reply to Lockwood wherever and whenever he addressed you, and you wondered if he did it because his fleeting subconscious brought you up like yours did him. A smile wiggled its way to your lips, and you pulled your shoulders back to look down at the cloth.

“You’re already here,” someone said sleepily, the voice familiar as his handwriting. Looking up you spot George sleepily yawning, a palm to his eye and his glasses in his other hand. “Did you make yourself some tea already?”

“I did, might need to put on the kettle again, though. How are you already awake? Lockwood told me you lot were on a case last night somewhere far.” You pulled out of your seat just as George pulled into his, sleepily resting against the thinking cloth.

“He and Lucy dealt with it, as far as I know they came back after I fell asleep,” He said, tapering off into another, shorter, yawn. His curly hair was all over, and he had forgone his trousers again, but you weren’t one to tell him off for it. Often Lockwood would liken it to geniuses and their ‘weird habits’, George being the brains of the agency and all that.

“I saw their coats by the door this morning, dripping all over the floor,” George scoffed at that, picking his head up off the table just to thump it back down, “I mopped it up though, no need to worry.”

He looked grateful, especially as you pushed him a cup of hot tea and a donut.

“Lockwood should marry you for how much you pick up after him alone, at this point. Never mind all the times you guys act like you’re already basically married,” He’d said. Casual as he might have been, you find yourself choking on air.

“It’s not like that,” you cough, brows furrowing as George gives you an exasperated frown, “Come off it, it’s not like that. I doubt he’d… y’know.”

He rolls his eyes and tears off a chunk of donut; you take the out when he chooses to say nothing more. Changing the subject is easy with George, but he often makes pointed statements— when he notices something, he just has to say it.

“You brought some more flowers today, yeah? Are the red carnations for Lockwood?” He’d asked, sipping on his tea, more awake than before. As he ate you’d been rushing about the kitchen cleaning up what you could, so you close the cupboard just as he adds, “Do you reckon he’ll pick up on it this time?”

You freeze where you’re pulling a chair out for yourself, worrying your lip between your teeth. “He hasn’t before. I just… I don’t think he will. Get it, I mean. I just— I don’t know. What do you think, George?”

He hums at you, and shuffles to give you a quick pat on your shoulder. “I think you should just tell him at this point. He’s either being intentionally dense or is just being stupid about it.”

“Has he…” you gesture lamely with your hand, arm propped up on your elbow before you slump back in your seat, “Has he said anything about… maybe, liking me back?”

“He doesn’t need to, he makes it clear enough anyways. He’s always banging on about you,” He says, clearly frustrated. You give him a pointed look he doesn’t break, unimpressed as he always is. You sigh. It’s frustrating, but you know George wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t objectively the truth. “Whatever happens, if you do tell him, it’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You sit in silence for a while after that, George scribbling on the thinking cloth as the seconds pass on by. An hour into your visit, you pull yourself up and out of your chair and head for the front.

“Tell Lucy and Anthony I said hi, please, George. I’ll be heading off now,” You say from the kitchen doorway, he nods your way with a wave, focused on the thinking cloth.

“Do you want me to tell him—“

“No, thank you, George,” You hissed, cutting him off. A grin finds its way on George’s face just as you run off.

An hour later, Lockwood finds himself in the kitchen just as Lucy’s finishing up her breakfast. George had woken up way earlier and had likely dove back into his research if his absence meant anything; you had been gone for an hour as Lockwood passes the doorway. Lucy’s grin turns teasing and Lockwood slumps into his chair.

“Did you see them before they left?” He asks Lucy, who hums a ‘no’ with a knowing grin as she sets down the papers. She reaches over to his side of the table, tapping on the cloth, before pulling the papers back up to her nose.

Pouring himself a quick cup of tea, Lockwood settles down to find where you’d earlier written ‘threw it out already, got you a new loaf’ and smiles. His hand traces reverently along the curves and lines of your inking, and can’t help his chuckle at the little smiley face at the end.

“What’d they say today?” Lucy asks, folding up her paper and propping up her elbows. Her teasing grin hasn’t once dropped.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He quips, pulling his shoulders back. Lucy doesn’t look willing to let up, wholly bemused.

“I bet you it’s something not at all even funny enough for you look as giddy as you do,” She grins, rushing out of her chair to read it before Lockwood can cover it up. Her jaw drops when she finds it, turning to Lockwood, who’d turned away and refused to meet her eyes.

“Look at you—“ She starts.

“Stop—“

“Giddy over the fact they went and fetched us bread?” Lucy gasps, wholeheartedly teasing Lockwood as he fumbles for words. Oh, if only you were here so she could do the same to you. “Like a schoolboy, you are, yeah?”

“Lucy,” he groans, hiding his face in his hands as he dumps his head on the table, “It’s not like that— I just. It’s a kind gesture, alright?”

“George makes us dinner everyday but you don’t kick your feet and giggle when he writes to you on the thinking cloth do you?” She goads, relishing in the way Lockwood looks up to glare.

“George calls me a dick when he writes to me on the thinking cloth,” He pauses just as your name runs out his mouth, frown softening, “They wouldn’t do that.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as she stands up, bringing her cup to the sink. Her hair is combed, but she’s still in pyjamas, so it’s likely she’s just woken up too. Lockwood reckons she hadn’t caught your visit, but he asks anyways. Lucy shakes her head just as she settles back down in her chair.

“Ask George, he probably woke up early enough.” She takes a generous bite out of her toast, the crunch of it waking Lockwood up. Last night had been exhausting, but luckily they’d gotten it under wraps. Lucy headed straight up to bed when they got home, but Lockwood had stopped by the kitchen to write you a note on the cloth just before he scrambled up the stairs to his room and passed out in his bed. George had been quiet when they got back, so Lucy was most likely right. Lucy shoves a plate of cheese on toast his way, and he takes it gratefully.

“I’ll just ask him later,” He says around a mouth full of toast. “Have you seen George today, actually?”

Lucy’s grin widens into something mischievous and cheshire, but she tucks it in quickly and simply hums an affirmative. Lockwood narrows his eyes at her, and she looks away.

“Whatever you two talked about—“

“Nothing!” She cut in, holding her hands up. “George says they left you flowers though, red carnations.”

Lockwood feels his breath escape him at the thought— you bringing him flowers? Damn his sleep schedule, he would have woken early just to see you give them yourself if he’d known. The thought of you and your care for him leaves him warm and defenceless; vulnerable in all the ways only you can make him. It’s so so sweet it has him pushing a hand on his lips to stop his grin from splitting his whole face open.

“God,” Lucy laughs, watching him with unfettered amusement, “You—“

“Where did George put them?” He cuts her off, earning a laugh at the grin he can’t hold back. Some part of him wants to make the excuse that he’s this happy and giddy because of how kind a gesture it is, but more than a majority of him knows that’s just not true.

When Lockwood finds the flowers in the library, he knows even in the deepest recesses of his denial and ache, that it’s not the kind gesture leaving him helplessly lost in love with you. Now if only he could find a way to admit that to your face.

A/N: Sorry if this isn’t the best, kinda just let my brain write and lightly edited it after.

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Oh, I love spring.” Lance’s voice is soft, breathy, sighing. He veers off the path, heading towards one of the campus’ many gardens. “Everything’s just so hopeful, y’know? And the hills — they get coated in little springs of gold. It’s beautiful.”

“It snowed yesterday,” Keith deadpans, but joins Lance in looking at the blooming flowers anyway.

Lance rolls his dark eyes at him fondly. “For, like, twenty seconds!”

“Snow, Lance. In April. Disgusting.”

“Yeah, yeah, party pooper.” He leans in close to a yellow pansy, inhaling deeply. The slightest of smiles pulls at his lips, long eyelashes fluttering as his eyes close in serenity. Freckles sprinkle over his nose and cheekbones, darker now that the sun is starting to shine brighter.

Keith has to shake himself out of staring like a fool. Even then it’s no easy feat — Lance is ethereal, in the spring sunshine, surrounded by budding flowers and melting snow.

Keith clears his throat, ears a little red. “I thought you were more of a summer person,” he says, a little loudly, a little telling.

“I do love the summer, Lance agrees, inhaling one more time before straightening up. He turns the full power of his smile towards Keith — Lord help him — and takes a step away from the garden. “But there’s just something about the flowers, I guess. Something about so many colours finally blooming after the endless grey of winter, y’know?”

Keith snorts. “Right, Shakespeare.”

“I’m going to take that as the compliment it is, you butthead. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah.” Keith pauses, glancing back at the flowers. He thinks of Lance’s soft look as he smelled them. He thinks of how badly he wants to see Lance look like that again. “Why don’t you bring a couple flowers back to your dorm?”

Lance glances back at the flowers. For a minute Keith thinks he’s going to pick a couple, but then he’s shaking his head. “Nah.” He chuckles a little, scratching the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “It’s stupid, but I get genuinely upset when flowers die? I used to pick them all the time as a kid and then cry when they started to droop. I never really grew out of it, I guess. Embarrassing, huh?”

Oh my God, that is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, Keith thinks, screaming internally.

“A little,” Keith teases instead. Lance gasps exaggeratedly, clasping his hand to his heart in mock offense.

“Why, I never!”

The two of them joke and tease their way to the dining hall, only getting worse as they meet up with the rest of their friends. They devolve into ridiculous chaos almost immediately, as they usually do — Pidge barely catches sight of Lance before she starts some ridiculous argument over the dorky video game they’re both obsessed with, and then the rest of them choose sides just for the drama of it all — but honestly? Keith’s heart’s not in it. All he can think of is Lance’s slight smile as he smelled the flower, and the barest hint of sadness Keith saw flash through his dark brown eyes when he stepped away from them.

Keith is going to get Lance his flowers, and flowers that won’t die on him. He will.

Anything to get that smile on his face again.

———

“Keith, it’s four in the goddamn morning.”

“Allura if you help me I’ll get you those caf cookies you like every day for a month.”

That gives her pause. “The coffee caramel one? That’s always gone before I get up?”

“Yep,” Keith says, grinning despite his frustration. Got her. Allura would do anything short of human sacrifice to get those cookies.

“…Make it two months.”

“What?” Keith protests immediately. “That’s sixty whole days!”

“I’m getting more and more tired by the second, Gyeong.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ll get your cookie, you tyrant.”

She hums. There’s a creaking noise in the background, like she’s shuffling around, then the unmistakable sound of a thump and muffled cursing.

Keith shoves his knuckles into his mouth to keep from cackling. “Did you fall, you dumbass?”

“Fuck off. Mention it again and the deal is off.”

“Alright, alright,” Keith says,holding up his hands in surrender even though she can’t see it. (One can never be too sure with Allura. Sometimes it’s like she’s a fuckin’ witch, or something. She knows all.)

“Anyways, dorkus. Why’d you call me in the dead of the fucking night?”

Keith sobers quickly, frustration building back up when he catches a glance at his supplies. He takes a deep breath. “So, you know how you’re an art major?”

There’s a beat of incredulous silence. Keith can feel her judgey look through the phone.

“No, that’s news to me, actually. Must have missed that memo on my way to class this morning.”

“Oh, piss off. You know what I meant.”

She snorts, but answers anyway. “Yes, Keith. I am aware that I’m an art major. I take it to mean you need some artistic advice?”

“Yeah,” Keith confirms. He holds up one of the canvases he’s been working on, frowning deeply. “So, I have this…project. I need to paint a really, really good — almost perfect, honestly — picture of a flower. No, a bouquet of flowers. Yeah. And —”

“You,” Allura interrupts slowly, “a physics major.”

There’s a long moment of silence — incredulous on Allura’s end, panicked on Keith’s.

“You need to paint a flower? For a grade?”

“I’m…applying the physical sciences of viscous fluids acting upon a dry powdered surface such as canvas,” Keith lies hastily. “Yeah. Lots of science in painting, you know.”

That’s a pretty decent excuse, if Keith says so himself. And he does! He’s found that if he just throws out enough science words into one sentence, and uses the words ‘acting upon’ at least once, then people usually just go along with it. It has yet to fail on him before, at least.

“This is about Lance, isn’t it.”

Of fucking course Allura’s annoyingly smart ass can see right through him.

Keith scoffs. And then he scoffs again, and again, and every time it sounds just a touch more hysterical. “Ha! I don’t — ha! How ridiculous! Me, painting a picture of a flower for Lance, because he gets sad when cut flowers die! I would never — preposterous! Outlandish! Unbelievable, even! I —”

“You just let me know when you’re done,” Allura drawls.

Keith sputters. “I — you! What!”

“Look,” she says, faux-gently. “Please take full offense to this.”

“I probably will,” Keith grumbles. Allura has no problem plowing right on.

“There is not a soul on this campus who isn’t well aware that you are atrociously down bad for Lance.”

“I — yes there is! That’s fuckin’ — private information! How do you know that?!”

“You look at him like he’s the sun, dude. It’s as sweet as it is sickening, truly.”

Keith wants to fight that. He does. He’s kept his feelings for Lance under lock and key, thanks. Allura is talking out of her ass.

But then he looks down at his canvas and half-finished painting, and —

Oh.

Well.

“…Okay,” Keith admits, cheeks flaming. “So I get a little moon-eyed occasionally. Can you blame me?”

Allura chuckles. “No. Lance is cute as hell. You’re lucky I’m a lesbian or you would have some serious competition with that boy, let me tell you.”

“Thank Thor for that, then.”

“Damn right. Anyway. Details, Horatio. You’re painting him a flower?”

Keith sighs. He knows it’s incriminating as hell, but he truly can’t help himself. “Yeah. We were looking at flowers a couple days ago, and he was just so happy to see them, y’know? I suggested he should bring a couple back to his dorm but he said he got sad when they died, so. I’m painting him some that won’t die.”

“That is the gayest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

Keith flushes. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. Can you help me or not?”

“Well, I won’t be painting it for you.”

“I know that! I just — I don’t know what I’m doing, ‘Llura. How the hell do I shape it right? What’s the deal with shading? How come half the colours look smudgy and brush hairs keep getting stuck in the paint? What —”

“Alright, deep breath,” Allura interjects. Keith listens. “Good.” Her voice softens. “He’s gonna love it, y’know? He loves you just as much as you love him — and don’t give me that ‘what if he doesn’t like me back’ shit,” she scolds, before he can protest. “Okay? He’s one of your closest friends. He’s going to appreciate the gesture regardless.”

“I know,” Keith says, exhaling deeply. “I know. But still. Help me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got you.”

———

Keith takes a deep breath, glancing down at the gift bag he’s holding. It’s not too late, really. He can ding dong ditch. That way Lance can get the painting — and the stupid sappy letter Keith wrote him — and Keith can avoid the whole mortifying ordeal of being known or whatever.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. He can confess his undying love another time, right? Lance doesn’t need to know now. Keith can suffer in silence. He’s gone this far —

“Keith! Hi! I tried to wait for you to know but you took too long. Come in!”

Lance beams at him, dorm room door opened wide, stepping to the side to usher Keith in.

Curse him and his stupid bat ears. Of course he heard Keith’s heartbeat through the door, or something.

“Hey, Lance.” He accepts Lance hug, squeezing tightly and inhaling smell of sunscreen and lavender.

The smell makes him brave, makes him bold.

“I, uh, I brought you something.”

Lance’s grin only gets wider. “I was hoping that was for me.” He makes grabby hands towards the bag. “Gimme!”

It will be fine, it will be fine, it will be fine, Keith chants to himself as Lance tosses the decorative paper — ‘decorative paper’ being old homework because Keith has no idea where the hell he’s supposed to buy fancy gift paper — behind him, digging into the bag. He stills as he pulls out the canvas. He’s absolutely silent as he looks at it, face completely blank.

Keith cracks.

“I know it’s kind of ugly. I mean, I tried, and Allura tried to help, but I’m kind of a hopeless painter —”

Lance still makes no face, long fingers just tracing the bulky painting.

“— I tried to use your favourite colours! The blue and the red and the purple —”

Lance makes a choked noise. Keith can’t tell if it’s good or not; and it makes him a great deal more frantic.

“—peonies are your favourite, right? And you like dandelions too so I thought —”

“Keith,” Lance finally says, hoarse and quiet. “I —”

“There’s a letter, too, and — oh.” The letter is clasped tightly in Lance’s hand. “You’ve already read it. Cool. Awesome. It’s —”

“Keith —”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal, right? I mean —”

“Keith —”

Keith forces himself to breathe properly. He is not successful. He’s not quite hyperventilating, but by God he is on his way.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll just dip and you text me whenever —”

“Keith!” Lance shouts. “I’m going to kiss you now. On the mouth.”

By the time that sentence registers in Keith’s brain, sunshine and lavender overwhelms his senses, soft, smooth lips pressed insistently to his. Lance’s cool fingers press the sides of his neck, a gentle but insistent pressure.

“Oh,” Keith breathes.

“I love you too, dumbass,” Lance whispers against his lips. “God I love you.“

“That’s — okay.”

He feels Lance’s smile.

Because it is pressed. Against his lips.

Holy shit.

“That’s okay?“ “Yeah. Yeah. I — love you too. Lots.”

Lance laughs. “Enough to hand paint me flowers that will never die.” He presses another kiss to Keith’s lips.

It feels like springtime.

———

based on this post

[laundrybiscuits]

(this is just Steve's POV on one mini-scene of what will today's adventure be, because I said that thing about 'wild domestic fantasy' in the commentary)

It’s been a long, long day, and Steve’s looking forward to collapsing as soon as he gets home. He might not even bother with dinner.

He can’t blame anything but exhaustion for the way he doesn’t notice how the lights are already on in the house as he makes his way up to the front door and unlocks it, fumbling just a little over the keys. So when he swings the door open, for just a second he thinks he’s dreaming, like maybe he fell asleep in the car or something.

Eddie Munson is sitting at his dining room table with Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, and…for some reason, Erica Sinclair’s there too. Actually, she seems to be bossing the others around, waving a pencil in Lucas’s face while he scowls and bats her away.

It’s just. The thing is. This is just so close to—to thoughts he’s had, more and more lately. Coming home to a warm room all lit up and full of life, everyone safe and happy; Eddie glancing up at him and smiling, just like that. It doesn’t feel like something he should be allowed to keep. It feels like the kind of thing that’ll disappear if he blinks, like his house'll be empty again the second he lets himself believe it's real.

Eddie leans over and says something to Erica, who gives up tormenting Lucas to lead a mass stampede into the kitchen. Probably looking to raid Steve's freezer, like always.

Eddie looks back up at Steve, eyes sparkling. “I would die for that child,” Eddie says very sincerely, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Steve can’t help laughing, because he’s definitely almost died for Erica on multiple occasions, and he’s got no regrets about it. “Yeah. Um, me too.”

“So, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Henderson didn’t actually clear this with you?” Eddie leans forward, resting his chin on his folded hands and tilting his head. His hair spills over his shoulders.

Steve tries half-heartedly to remember, but he’s coming up blank. “Honestly, I’m not sure. He might’ve said something last week? Sometimes when he’s on a tear, I just kinda let him talk.”

“Y’know, we’re at a pretty good stopping point for today, if you want us to clear out so you can get some rest.” Eddie’s voice is soft but clear, deep and smooth in a way that has to be on purpose. He sounds like he’s—like he’s talking to someone he cares about. He sounds soothing, and Steve’s heart gives a painful little clench at how obviously Eddie’s trying to be gentle with Steve. He’s always like that: always the first to notice when Steve’s struggling, always there to lend a hand, but never in a way like he doesn’t think Steve can handle things by himself. Eddie just helps, that’s all. It's always just better when Eddie’s there.

“No, it’s fine. I might go take a nap, though.” It’s more than fine; there’s nothing Steve wants more than to know his house is full of people he loves, having a good time. He might even stick around just to watch if he could keep his eyes open much longer, but whatever nerd thing they're doing is way less appealing than his bed right now. Plus, Eddie definitely doesn't have a plan for when they'll want dinner in a couple hours, so Steve can just check back in then.

“Gonna trust you not to let them burn down the place, got it?” He tries his best to look stern, but Eddie salutes him like a dork, beaming wide and pretty.

“Aye aye, cap’n. No lick of flame shall breach these walls.”

Steve wants to kiss him so badly that it fizzes like pop rocks on his tongue. He lets himself think about it for a second, then reaches out to push his fingers through Eddie’s hair and mess it up a little as he heads upstairs, heart tender as a bruise.

[a-problematic-writer]

Quick fire controversial takes to stir the pot (affectionately, I am not actually trying to start drama I just wanna throw out some random takes I have) 💚💚💚

Petra’s a bisexual. 100%. Like… look at them. That’s a bisexy if I’ve ever seen one.

This one’s less controversial but Petra’s a she/they. I don’t make the rules. Her and Aiden swap clothes a lot, fight me about it 💚💚💚

I prefer Lukrose (Lukas/Cassie Rose) to Aidrose! This actually came about because Aiden/Cassie Rose is actually not a new ship!! It’s been popular for quite some time! And it annoyed me and my friends to NO END (affectionately!) because Aidrose and Lukesse were the big contenders and we liked Aidesse. So we made a funny where Aidrose and Lukesse went on a blind double date and ended up becoming Aidesse and Lukrose. I’ll have to clean up that fic sometime haha!

Axden rules, actually, y’all are just mean. SO DOES LUXEL (Lukas/Axel)

I don’t like Soren 😭 He’s slimy and icky to me. Please, by all means, if you do please keep loving him wholeheartedly. I’m just unfortunately a hater.

In that vein, ivorren I agree was a thing. However, it is toxic yaoi to me. Ivor’s happier with Harper. We love a bi king and his bi queen.

LUKTRA SLAYS YOU GUYS NEED TO STOP SLEEPING ON THEM; I’LL START WAVING THEIR FLAG SO HARD JUST GIVE ME A REASON.

Axel and Maya would be SUCH a goated BROTP like she’s the vicious teacup chihuahua to his scary biker dude, y’know? If you get me, I love you. If you don’t, I’m sorry 😭

Jetra (M!Jesse/Petra) and Lukesse (F!Jesse/Lukas) slay so hard I need more content.

I don’t like Male Jesse 😭😭😭 there’s like legit no reason he’s fine but I can only see Remi Ratatouille when he speaks and I just don’t like him [m!Jesse], personally. There ARE exceptions of course! I love fan M!Jesse’s 🥰🥰🥰 but in the long run: Fem!Jesse is Best Jesse 🫶🫶🫶

No, this does NOT mean I like Cat Taber (Zionist L). I actually prefer fan voice claims better! Please, if you have any, send them my way omg…

Aidetra (Aiden/Petra) is so good I would like to dine on it everyday

STOP MAKING AIDEN THE VILLAIN YOU COWARDS. Lukas deserves to be one too 💚💚💚

THROUPLE ADMINS IS GOATED

This isn’t controversial but Stella TOTALLY used to hang out with the Ocelots and always had a big crush on Petra. Fight me. I think she and Aiden also dated briefly but that’s neither here nor there.

Dewey likes Aiden. Lukas is gonna die about it some day.

I think Aiden and Lukas being exes is just subtext at this point, not even a headcanon. They WERE TOGETHER, THEY DID BREAKUP.

No one in this game is canonically related. Ship who you want. This is coming from someone who’s a staunch believer in Aiden and Maya as siblings.

I actually don’t mind Jesse x Jesse. NOW AS A DISCLAIMER NOT IN THE SELFCEST WAY. I just mean like a lot of the time, I use Jesse variations to build up a sort of OC?? So like I see no reason they can’t be shipped together 😭😭😭

AIDESSE IS THE BEST SHIP EVER U CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE ITS GOT EVERYTHING. IT CAN BE SO MUCH ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS BELIEVE.

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

In Your Dreams

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Epilogue

AO3 info one two three four five six seven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

He says, “Ooh, baby girl, you know we’re gonna be legends. I’m the king and you’re the queen and we will stumble through heaven.”- Halsey, Young Gods

“No way,” Lea’s younger sister, Ari, screeched over the phone. “I’m getting on a plane to New York right now—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” their older sister, Lina, cut in firmly. “You’ll stay in California. Your semester is starting soon.”

“I figured he was an Otherworlder,” Ari continued as if Lina hadn’t spoken, “like, obviously, look at his face, but an incubus, oh my god—”

“It’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be,” Lea said into the phone, which was currently on the dining room table of Lina’s apartment, with Sam, her best friend since childhood, and Lina—who liked to think of herself as the family’s voice of reason—seated around it.

“It sure sounds like a big deal,” Sam countered. “I didn’t know incubuses had mates that they, like, had to feed from or they’d die.”

“I didn’t, either,” Lea said.

At the same time, Lina interjected with, “It’s incubi, not incubuses.”

Ari groaned. “Don’t be such a know-it-all, Lina. Now is so not the time.”

“Yeah, Lina,” Sam snarked playfully, sticking her tongue out at the older girl.

“Are you guys not freaking out?” Ari demanded shrilly. “How are you guys not freaking out? Lea is the mate of a movie star who is also apparently a fuckin’ sex demon, and he will literally die without her, and oh yeah, let’s not forget, she’s also pregnant with his demon spawn!”

Lea groaned miserably, burying her face in her arms. “Don’t call it demon spawn,” she pleaded.

“Why not?” Ari demanded. “That’s what it is! He’s a demon, you’re carrying his spawn—“

“You’re embarrassing her,” Lina scolded.

“Maybe you should be at least a little embarrassed,” Sam pointed out. “Not about who you’re dating, ‘cause that’s dope and you’ve got bragging rights—“

“I don’t have bragging rights,” Lea muttered. “That would be weird, plus it’d draw attention to us both.”

Sam, however, continued on as if Lea hadn’t spoken at all. “—But ‘cause you’re pregnant at twenty years old, Lea, for fuck’s sake—“

“I didn’t exactly plan it,” Lea snapped. “I figured my birth control would work just fine!”

“Shoulda had him pull out, girl,” Ari chimes in. “Always have the dude pull out.”

“How is it fair that you lost your virginity before I did?” Sam whined. “He must be, like, so good, too—”

“Oooooo, yeah!” Ari exclaimed, clearly excited. “Tell us how he was! Spill, bitch!”

“I do not want to hear this,” Lina said, grimacing in distaste.

“Two against one,” Sam declared without hesitation, raising her eyebrows at Lea expectantly.

Lea fidgeted awkwardly. “He was, uh… good, yeah. Very good.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Ari said dryly. “I could’ve told you that. What else?”

“Like… intense, y’know?”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean by intense?”

“He’s, uh…” Lea gulped anxiously. “He’s very grabby. And, like, rough or whatever.”

Lina frowned. “Rough? Does he hurt you?”

“Chill, Lina,” Ari told her flatly. “Good rough or bad rough? Did you like it?”

“I did, yeah,” Lea said quietly, flushing and twisting her hands in her lap.

“Good rough, then,” Ari decided.

Sam stared, perfectly manicured brows furrowed in confusion. “How is there such a thing as rough being good?”

“I’m not explaining sex to you, virgin,” Ari said, and Lea could practically hear her nose in the air.

“Hey—”

“Oh my god, who cares?” Lina groaned. “Lea is pregnant, she’s gonna live forever, don’t you guys wanna talk about that instead of whether or not you’ve had a dick up you?”

“Wait,” Ari cut in, “what’s his dick like?”

“Big, I’m guessing, ‘cause he’s a freakin’ sex demon,” theorized Sam.

“Well, yes,” Lea admitted, examining her hands and trying her best not to picture the barbels along the length of her boyfriend’s shaft.

“I know that voice,” Sam said suspiciously. “What else is there?”

“W— well, um…”

Even Lina looked interested now, leaning forward. “What is it?”

“He, uh… he has, like. Piercings.”

Sam blanched. “He has piercings on his—”

“No way!” Ari screeched for the second time that afternoon. “Timothée Chalamet has a pierced dick?! For real?!”

“Yeah,” Lea squeaked out, blushing to the roots of her hair.

“What kind?” Ari demanded. “Is it a Prince Albert or something else?”

“What the fuck is that—” Sam squawked, aghast.

“I dunno what they’re called,” Lea admitted, squirming in her seat. “He’s got these, like, metal bar… things… in there.”

“More than one?” Ari gasped. It took a lot to shock Ari.

“Uh. Yeah. There’s a few. Like, three.”

“What does that even feel like?” her younger sister wanted to know.

Lea frowned, pursing her lips. “Normal, I guess?”

“You don’t know what normal is,” Ari insisted impatiently. “Can you feel it?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Okay,” Lina finally said, “I’m gonna need you guys to stop right there before I throw up.”

“It’s not our fault you’re a prude—“ Sam whined, displeased at having her eavesdropping interrupted.

“Some of us actually like dick and wanna hear about this—“ Ari was saying.

“Too bad,” Lina said firmly. “Have your dick discussion in earshot of someone who isn’t me.”

After several beats of silence, Ari decided, “Okay. Lea, your homework is to draw a picture of what it looks like. I want detailed photorealism here.”

“W— what—?!” Lea sputtered out in horrified shock. Sam was nodding with a determined expression on her face while Lina looked like she had smelled something particularly distasteful.

“It’s important,” Ari insisted.

“Uh, no,” Lea said firmly. “Not gonna be doing that. Nope.” 

“Oh, come on,” Ari whined.

Just then, a text came in.

Tim

When will you be home again ? I miss you so much and I really really need to be inside you, if you come home I’ll make you cum at least four times before I even fuck you and then…

Sam squealed with delight, grabbing for Lea’s phone. Thankfully, Lea was fairly used to this sort of thing and intercepted the movement, to which her friend pouted.

“What, what happened?” Ari demanded.

“Timothée sent an obscene text to your sister,” Lina declared as if the three of them didn’t have the same parents.

“Ooooo, what’s it say?”

“I dunno, she won’t let me see!”

“Okay,” Lea cut in, “I’m gonna go home.”

“Yeah, so your demon boyfriend can bang you again, like you aren’t already pregnant—”

Lea’s face flamed. “Shut up, Sam, oh my god.”

“Lea,” Ari cut in, her voice sounding halfway between excited and desperate, “do the drawing! Send it to me! It’s for science!”

“No!“

“I missed you so much,” Tim groaned against her neck, having pinned her against the entryway wall as soon as she locked the door to the apartment.

“That doesn’t warrant essentially sexting me while I’m meeting with my sister and best friend!”

“Couldn’t help it,” he muttered. “I don’t even have any naked pictures of you, y’know. I must compensate by seeing you naked in person as much as physically possible.”

He was kissing her neck and fondling her breasts, and, well. When he was doing that, she couldn’t exactly argue with him, now could she?

“Where do you want me?” Lea breathed.

“That’s my good girl,” he growled. “Right here, baby. Gonna fuck you against the wall. Would you like that?”

Nodding eagerly, she wrapped her legs around his waist when he hoisted her up.

“So greedy,” he chuckled. “Gotta get your panties off first, don’t I?”

“I want it now,” she whined.

“Patience, sweetheart,” Tim scolded gently. “I promised you four orgasms before I fucked you.”

“I want your dick in me way more than I want orgasms,” she insisted with a rapid shake of her head.

He laughed outright at that. “Fuck, I love you. Okay. Whatever you want, baby. Let’s get your panties off.”

It felt like an eternity before he was sliding into her, but when he finally did, only then did it feel like she was home.

“You didn’t know you’d get pregnant?” Nicole asked, shocked.

Lea was sitting at a table in Tim’s parents’ house—the one he’d bought them fairly recently—with Sam and Lina for moral support in a discussion with her boyfriend’s—should she call him that when they were literally destined to be together for the rest of time?—mother and sister. Not that either woman was unpleasant, it was more that the topic was stressful.

It was weird being around Nicole, because she looked like she wasn’t any older than Lea herself was.

“Uh… no.”

Pauline stared at her in disbelief. “How did you not know?”

“Well,” Lea hedged, “there’s a lot of stuff about incubi that’s not really… common knowledge, so…”

“But he didn’t tell you?” Nicole persisted.

At this, Lina frowned and turned her gaze on her sister. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he tell you?” she asked, suspicion etched clearly onto her face.

“We didn’t discuss actually…” She wrung her hands anxiously. “When he told me what he was, he didn’t explain too much about what would happen if we— if I agreed. And then when he woke up, I didn’t think to ask.”

“And you didn’t know that hormonal birth control doesn’t work with Otherworlders?” Pauline clarified, eyebrows raised.

Lea shook her head, embarrassed. “I… I guess I never thought about it. Before I met Tim, I’d never known any others, really. Not well, anyway. Just kinda in passing, y’know?”

“What about Grace Robertson?” Sam asked, referencing a girl they’d gone to high school with. “Everybody said she was fae.”

“She wasn’t,” Lina said, her tone flat.

“How do you know?” Sam demanded, annoyed at being corrected.

Lina shrugged. “I dated her the summer after I graduated. Not a fae, she’s just like that.”

“There must’ve been some secretive ones, at the very least,” Nicole mused thoughtfully.

“No clue,” Sam admitted. “There’s not exactly a huge Otherworlder population on the North Carolina coast.”

“So…” Pauline began thoughtfully, but her mother cut her off.

“Where are you wanting to raise the baby?” Nicole asked.

Lea blinked, startled. “I… don’t know?”

“You should consider getting a few different houses,” Nicole explained. “Children need a great deal of space, and Timothée’s traveling constantly.” She waved a hand dismissively, as if this was somewhat of an annoyance to her. “With regard to what you should expect, he doesn’t know, as pregnancies aren’t terribly common, but it’s important you’re aware.” She fixed Lea with a look that was somewhere between amusement and sympathy. “He will be an absolute nightmare the entire time.”

Lea’s eyes widened. “W— what? Why? How?”

“He’ll enjoy that you are carrying his child,” Nicole began, the other four women listening with wife-eyed fascination—and mild disgust on the part of Lina and Pauline—as she explained. “He will want to feed off of you almost constantly—“ Lea choked at this, unused to such a pragmatic discussion of sex, but Nicole didn’t seem to notice, continuing, “—and then he will feel terribly guilty for making you tired as a result of feeding off of you. He will be ridiculously overprotective and will not want you to do anything at all, which I found particularly annoying.” She rolled her eyes at what Lea presumed was a memory. “For your sake, I hope he’s not having to do any work over the course of your pregnancy. He’ll be even worse then.”

Lea frowned. “Should I just… stay with my mom during it?”

Nicole’s eyes widened and she shook her head firmly. “No. He’d lose his mind if you did that.”

Sighing, Lea wrung her hands in her lap. “It sounds like he’ll be awful to be around,” she admitted.

“There are some upsides,” Nicole told her. “He’ll go out of his way to make you happy—even more so than normal—and will want to do things for you. He’ll be very excited for the baby, as well. It’s not so bad, overall. Neither of my pregnancies were particularly difficult; it generally isn’t too bad for the human mate.”

“Is there any, uh…” Lea gulped anxiously. “Weird demon-y stuff I should expect?”

Nicole shook her head. “The baby will be a normal human until they come into their inheritance in early adulthood. That usually happens around seventeen to eighteen.” After a moment, Nicole clapped brightly. “Now then! Let’s discuss what sort of house you’d like here in New York.”

Nicole, as it turned out, was correct.

Tim was a total nightmare.

“Lea, sweetheart,” he was attempting to placate, “we need a minimum of six houses.”

“We do not!” she insisted shrilly.

“I’m in Europe all the time,” he explained gently, “and I want you and our daughter to have a stable home no matter where we are—“

“You don’t even know if it’s a girl,” she groaned for the bazillionth time.

“I want a girl that looks just like you,” he reminded her. “And don’t change the subject. We need multiple houses.”

“It’s excessive,” Lea informed him. “It’s an unnecessary expense.”

“It’s completely necessary,” he corrected her, “and it’s not like I can’t afford it. What’s the big deal?”

Lea threw her hands up in exasperation. “Alright, alright!” She grabbed her purse and made to leave the apartment.

“Where are you going?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“To get some coffee.”

“W— what?” he sputtered. “Lea, sweetheart, you’re pregnant, you can’t have caffeine!”

“I can have a small amount a day.”

“Says who?!” he demanded.

“The doctor, Tim!” she finally snapped. “God, you’re driving me crazy!”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sounding sheepish. “I just… I love you so much, and I worry about you.”

Lea sighed, turning to face him with her arms crossed. “I know. I love you, too. Just… just try and let up a little bit, okay? I know you just wanna help and take care of me and stuff, but stressing me out isn’t gonna help me or the baby.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “How can I help you de-stress?” Then he perked up, a thought occurring to him. “I can think of a few ways, actually.”

She snorted. “I’m sure you can. Why don’t you come with me to get coffee instead?”

Tim grinned brightly at that, taking her hand and leading her out the door.

She was surprised when he took her hand, threading their fingers together.

“Aren’t you worried about people seeing?”

He shrugged. “You’re my mate and the mother of my child. They’re gonna find out at some point. I don’t see any reason to hide it, really.”

Lea frowned as they made their way out of his building. “You haven’t even told anyone what you are.”

“No one’s ever asked, to be fair,” he pointed out.

“Well, it’s rude to ask someone you don’t know,” she reminded him, “and anyone who does know you wouldn’t say anything.”

He hummed. “Lots of Otherworlders have mates, though. And I think most people kinda assume I’m something, anyway.”

“That’s certainly true,” she agreed.

“Our usual place?” he asked as they made their way out onto the sidewalk, the breeze ruffling the hemline of her pink Ciao Lucia sundress. When Lea nodded, he changed the subject with a smile. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

She laughed. “I’m only a few weeks along!”

He grinned down at her. “So? It’s best we decide these things as soon as possible; I’m planning on getting a house for us not too far outside the city as soon as I can—I considered doing it while you were out for winter break, but you’d be five months along, and I don’t want you going through a move when you’re that far along—so we’ll be fine on that. The sooner you make decisions about the baby, though, the better.”

They went into the coffee shop and got in line. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in close to his side. She leaned her head against him, inhaling his scent.

The cashier stuttered throughout the process of taking their order, looking at Tim as if he were a ghost.

Once they’d ordered, they stepped back to stand against the walls of the coffee shop, nestling in close together. 

“Excuse me,” came a tentative voice to their side.

They both turned to look at the girl who’d spoken. Lea blinked. “Uh… hi?”

The girl’s eyes widened, as if she hadn’t noticed Lea was there. “H— hi,” she stuttered out before looking back at Tim. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but if it’s not too much trouble, could I have a picture?”

Tim smiled politely. “Of course!” He pulled his arm away from Lea. “Can you take it, sweetheart?”

When she heard the endearment, the girl’s eyes got even wider, if that were possible. She didn’t say anything about it, though, giving her phone to Lea with a small smile.

Lea smiled back, snapping a picture of Tim with the girl, who thanked him profusely before leaving.

As it turned out, paparazzi had managed to get a bunch of pictures of them. They hadn’t even been out that long, but Tim had kissed her on the way back. Even if he hadn’t, though, the arm he had around her waist was telling enough.

There was what amounted to an online manhunt for Lea’s identity, and it didn’t take long at all for her to be located. She privated all her accounts, but she’d gotten plenty of hate already.

Tim flew them down for Thanksgiving. She knew she had to tell her mom about the situation during their visit. There was no way around it.

The house Lea had grown up in was a yellow coastal style home with five bedrooms and a large porch. The front door was, technically speaking, on the second floor, but this was not uncommon for houses built right on the beach. The living room, kitchen, and dining room were all on the third floor, as was the small guest bedroom. 

Directly to the left of the front door was the master bedroom, which was occupied by the only full-time resident of the house: Lea’s mother, Rosalie. Ahead of the front door, on either side, were two bedrooms connected by a shared bathroom. Each one was decently sized and had access to the balcony, so Ari and Lina were quite content with the rooms. To the right of the front door were the stairs to the third floor, and next to the stairs were a door that, if opened, led downstairs to Lea’s bedroom.

Lea liked it because she had an entire floor to herself, complete with her own bathroom and a private entrance. Her room may not be as big as her sisters’, but the privacy more than made up for it.

This privacy, she knew, would be absolutely essential with Tim there. He’d offered to get them a hotel suite, but Lea had insisted that for his first visit as her boyfriend and father of her child, it was important they stay with her mom.

Lea had told her mom she was bringing a guest. She knew Rosalie was assuming that the guest was Sam, who would, of course, stay in the guest room.

Lea was not looking forward to telling her mom about Tim. Rosalie did not like or trust men, and she would be very upset indeed about Lea getting knocked up by an incubus.

“Mom?” Lea called as she shut the door behind her. Tim had just popped up behind her in his customary black smoke, suitcases in tow.

“Upstairs!” called Rosalie.

Lea stepped inside hesitantly, gesturing for Tim to leave their luggage in the entryway. She didn’t think her mom would disallow them from staying, but she wasn’t sure how welcome they’d be after Lea broke the news to her.

Neither of her sisters had gotten there yet, so it was just her and Tim. “My room is down there,” she told him quietly, pointing at the door to the right of the stairs. “C’mon. If she explodes, she explodes.”

“Do you really think she’ll be mad?” he asked. She could hear the frown in his voice.

Lea snorted derisively. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. More at you than me, most likely.”

“At least there’s that,” he hummed. “None of this is your fault, after all.”

“In the kitchen, honey,” her mother called out as they reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner towards the kitchen. “I figured you and your guest would like something to dri— oh!” she cut herself off with a gasp when she saw who Lea was with.

Rosalie Blanchard was nearly fifty. Like her daughters, she had brown eyes and curly red hair, though it was graying at her temples now. She wore it in a bun at the base of her neck.

“Who’s your guest?” she asked, her voice as tight as the curls she kept pinned to her scalp.

“Mom,” Lea began, “this is Tim. He’s my boyfriend.”

Rosalie’s lips pursed. “Your boyfriend.”

Lea nodded, and Tim stepped forward with a somewhat sheepish smile. “Hi, Mrs. Blanchard. I’m Timothée. Or Tim, whatever.”

“Hello,” she greeted stiffly.

“Tim,” Lea said brightly, “would you go take our bags to my room, please?”

“The door next to the stairs, right?” he clarified.

Lea nodded, and he squeezed her hand encouragingly as he went back down the stairs. She knew he’d give her and her mom space as she explained the situation.

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

Lea winced. “I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Is he good to you?”

“He’s wonderful, Mom,” Lea said quietly. “I love him very much.”

Rosalie’s eyes widened. “You love him?”

Lea nodded. “We should sit down.”

Rosalie looked scared now, swiftly crossing towards the living room and settling into a chair. Lea sat on the couch kitty corner from her.

“What’s going on?” her mom demanded in a voice that indicated she really, really didn’t want to know the answer.

“What do you know about incubi?” Lea asked after several tense heats of silence.

Rosalie’s eyes widened further. “Is… is that boy one?”

Lea nodded. “Yes. I’m his mate.”

Her mom shook her head rapidly. “No, you’re not. You can’t be.”

“That was my initial reaction, too,” she agreed, nodding. “I am, though. That birthmark I have, the one of the eight pointed star? It’s a symbol of a mate.”

Rosalie shook her head more. “It can’t be. Your sisters have the same one.”

“I know, yeah. I’m trying to figure out how to break that news to them,” Lea admitted with a wince. “But that doesn’t matter right now. I need to tell you about Tim.”

“Is he gonna come back up?”

Lea shook her head. “Not until I call him.”

“How long have you been with him?”

Lea twisted her hands in her lap anxiously. “Remember when I had to cancel my last visit during the summer?” When her mom nodded, she went on, “It was because I’d found out what I am to him. He was… he was very sick. He needed me.”

“Sick? I didn’t even know Otherworlders got sick.”

“Well…” Lea grimaced, trying to think of how to word what she needed to say. “You know what incubi feed off of, I’m sure.”

Rosalie made a face like she’d smelled something especially unpleasant. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

Lea looked down at her hands, still twisting anxiously in her lap. “Well… we met, you see, and we became friends. I didn’t want to have feelings for him, so when they developed, I just ignored them. But then…” She took a deep breath. “He wasn’t going to tell me. He just wanted to see me beforehand. One last time, he said. But he looked so sick, Mom.” She looked up at Rosalie then, trying to convey how strongly she felt about Tim, how scared she’d been. “I made him tell me what was going on.”

“What, exactly, was going on?” her mom asked slowly.

“He can’t feed from anyone but me now that we’ve met,” she murmured, looking away and flushing to the roots of her hair. “He was going to starve. He almost did.”

“And he never told you?”

Lea shook her head. “He knew I didn’t want a relationship with anyone, so he didn’t tell me. He said he didn’t want me to feel like it was my fault.”

Her mom hummed thoughtfully at this. “That was good of him.”

“I know.” Tears came to her eyes at the memory of how close to death he’d been. “He almost died because of me, Mom. He would’ve died if I hadn’t accepted him.”

“But you did,” Rosalie observed.

Lea nodded. “I did, yeah. I love him. I’m happy with him.”

“Aren’t incubi immortal?” Rosalie asked shakily.

Lea nodded. 

“How old is he, then? He looked to be not much older than you, but if he’s immortal…”

“We don’t know how old he is,” Lea admitted quietly. “He mentioned the Fall of Troy at one point.”

“So he’s over three thousand years old, then?!”

Lea shrugged. “At least that, yeah. Probably more.”

“You aren’t even twenty-one yet!” her mother snapped. “Besides, isn’t he sucking your life force away?”

She shook her head at that. “No, Mom. He lengthens my life, actually. If I’m with him, I could potentially just… never die.”

Her mother blinked at her. “Oh.”

Lea wrung her hands. “There’s something else.”

Rosalie tensed. “What else could there possibly be?”

“Well,” Lea began hesitantly, “there was a bit of a miscommunication, you see. When we… y’know…” Her mom winced, but she continued, “he had reason to believe I knew that hormonal birth control doesn’t work on Otherworlders. So we weren’t using anything other than that, and as a result…”

“You’re pregnant.” It was a statement of fact rather than a question.

Lea nodded. “I’m keeping it.”

“How in the hell do you plan on affording a baby, Amelie Juliana?” Rosalie demanded, using Lea’s full name the way she did when she was especially angry.

Lea hesitated. “Well… Tim can afford it.”

“He can, can he?” Rosalie scoffed.

“I know you’re not big into pop culture, Mom,” Lea began, “but Tim is an actor.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Actors are just another brand of starving artists.”

Lea shook her head. “He’s not a small-time actor. He’s been in major blockbusters. He has plenty of money for us. He refuses to let me work, actually. Not that I’d want to anyway, but still.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Rosalie griped. “Alright.” She sighed. “Bring this boy of yours up.”

Lea nodded. “Tim!” she called.

He appeared in a puff of black smoke. Rosalie jolted.

“You told her, I take it?”

Lea nodded. “I explained everything.”

Rosalie stood then, striding over to Tim and completely ignoring the fact that he towered over her. “You got my daughter pregnant,” she accused, her voice sharp.

“I did,” he confirmed.

“Are you going to take care of her and the baby?”

“She’s my mate,” he explained. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

Rosalie pursed her lips, looking Tim up and down. She took a step closer to him, and he blinked down at her. “I don’t care who you are or what you are. If you hurt Lea, you’ll never see the light of day again.”

“Mom,” Lea groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I won’t hurt her,” Tim promised gently, glancing back at Lea.

Rosalie nodded, finally taking a step back. “Well then. I’m going to the store. Hopefully they’re not out of turkeys yet.”

Ten minutes later, he had her pressed up against the wall of her childhood bedroom as he kissed her neck and hiked her blue Burberry miniskirt up her thighs.

“This is a nice room,” he muttered against her skin. “Can I fuck you in it?”

Lea giggled mindlessly, snaking her hands up around his neck.

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t, actually.”

An hour and a half later, Lea was passed out—naked, which was how he preferred her—in his arms. It would be at least another hour or two before she’d rested enough to wake up.

Then, he heard the front door open from the floor above them.

“Lea!” a voice he didn’t recognize called, though it was slightly muffled. “Where’s your boytoy?”

Tim extracted himself from Lea’s embrace and quickly pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his suitcase and yanking his t-shirt from before over his head.

He gave Lea a swift kiss on the forehead and left the room as quietly as he could. Taking the stairs two at a time, he smiled at the pair of women. One he recognized as Lea’s older sister, Lina, and the other, he figured was her younger sister, Ari, whom he hadn’t met.

“Hello,” he greeted politely. Both girls looked so much like Lea—and her mother, too, if he were honest—that it was startling. They had the same curly red hair, the same dark eyes. They were even of a similar stature. “Nice to see you again, Lina.” Then he turned to the younger of the two. “You’re Ari, right? I’m Timothée.”

Ari stared up at him with wide eyes. Lina merely pursed her lips, unimpressed and asked, “Where’s Lea?”

“Taking a nap,” Tim explained. “She’s very worn out.”

“From an hour long flight?” Lina asked skeptically, an eyebrow raised.

“Errrrrr…” Tim grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Finally snapping out of her trance, Ari rolled her eyes and stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you, Timothée. Lea’s told me a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he remarked with a good-natured smile.

Both girls opened their mouths to respond, but whatever they would’ve said was preempted by the front door opening again. Rosalie stepped through, carrying several bags of groceries.

Tim immediately rushed over to take them from her. “Here, let me get those. Are there more?”

The woman nodded once, then said, “Girls, unpack these, if you would.”

When Lea woke up a couple of hours later, she was surprised to find that Tim had successfully charmed her mother and sisters.

“I dunno how you did that,” she admitted that evening as he climbed into the shower behind her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom smile at a guy before. She doesn’t even let Ari bring home anyone.”

“Dunno,” Tim said with a shrug, leaning his head forward to wet his hair. “All I did was help with the groceries and cooking and whatnot.”

She leaned back against his chest with a grin. “Maybe they just could tell how much I love you and decided to give you a chance.”

He hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist, one hand on her barely protruding stomach.

“They kept asking about the baby, y’know.”

Lea smiled. “And what did you tell them?”

“That you’re fifteen weeks along and refuse to accept that it’s a girl.”

Laughing, she turned slightly so as to kiss him. “We don’t know what it is yet. It could be a girl.”

He hummed. “We’ll have more either way.”

“Yeah?” She leaned up to kiss him again.

“Mhm,” he confirmed. “Ideally, you’ll be pregnant a fair amount of the time.” He trailed his hands up her torso to cup her breasts, teasing her sensitive nipples.

“Tim,” she said breathlessly, arching into his touch, “can I suck your dick? Please?”

“Fuck,” he groaned, squeezing her breasts roughly. “Anything for you, baby. Anything you want.”

She turned around and sank to her knees without hesitation, completely disregarding the shower beating down on her. She was unable to resist him long enough to even tease him before she took him into her mouth. His hand found her hair, and he guided her up and down his length, the barbels catching on her lower lip.

“Such a good girl,” he moaned. “Suck me so well, baby. Make me feel so good.” He was watching her, and she knew from the red in his eyes that he was feeding from her, too. Excited by the thought of this, she reached between her legs and started rubbing her clit. “Oh, fuck, Lea,” he said hoarsely. “Are you touching yourself, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” she hummed around him, moaning softly.

“Like sucking my cock that much, huh?”

She moaned again, eager for more of him.

“Like that, baby,” he groaned, the hand in her hair clenching. “Suck it like that, fuck. Good girl. Such a good little slut, all for me.”

She rubbed her clit faster, loving how he talked to her.

“You gonna make yourself cum for me, baby?” he demanded. “You gonna cum with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours?”

She moaned mindlessly around him, wishing he’d pin her down and fuck her, right there in the bathtub with the shower running.

“That’s it,” Tim encouraged. “Make yourself cum, sweetheart. Such a good little slut for me, aren’t you? Getting off on sucking my cock.” When she did nothing but moan, her hips rocking into her hand, he continued, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me.”

She moaned again, this time long and loud, and the vibrations must’ve been too much, because he spilled into her mouth.

She was dazed as he pulled her up, kissing her slowly, leisurely. She kisses him back, leaning into him as she did.

“C’mon, love,” he told her gently, “let’s get you clean and into bed, okay?”

“Mmkay,” she mumbled sleepily, her eyes drooping.

He washed her hair and body, keeping it surprisingly nonsexual—for the most part, anyway; he hadn’t been able to stop himself from squeezing her breasts as he lathered them with soap—before quickly bathing himself, too, and then drying them both off. He settled her into bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her naked body close against his own.

“Wait,” she mumbled against his chest. “Did’ya lock the doors?”

“‘Course I did, baby,” he told her with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Top of the stairs, back door, and bedroom?” she clarified.

“Mhm,” he confirmed. “Sleep, Lea.”

“Mkay,” she mumbled, nestling in closer to him. “Love you.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“You mad it turned out to be a boy?” Lea asked, glancing up at Tim from where she was bottle feeding their newborn son in their bed.

He settled down beside her. “No,” he promised with a smile. “I’d’ve been happy with anything. You know that.” After a pause, he added, “Besides, it’s not like we can’t have more.”

“Lea,” Tim said one day after she had put Theo down for a nap in the nursery they’d set up at their French estate, “why haven’t we gotten married?”

Lea froze in her tracks, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Uh… because you haven’t asked me?”

He stared down at her. “Oh. Alright, then.”

Approximately a month later, Tim took her out to dinner at Guy Savoy in Paris. He had rented out a private dining room for them, the way he usually did, and when he got down on one knee and told her that if he could’ve crafted the perfect mate for himself, he would’ve made her just as she was, she teared up. When he told her that as far as he was concerned, she already was his wife and that they just needed to make it official in the eyes of the law, she cried, nodding eagerly.

He slid the ring on her finger, and then he’d insisted upon finding a bathroom to fuck her in.

She’d needed some coffee after that.

As it turned out, Tim had several cousins. Shockingly, Ari and Lina turned out to be the mates of two of them.

Lina in particular was skeptical of this, concerned that her Mark indicated that she’d end up bound to a man, an incubus, but it turned out to be a succubus.

Ari, on the other hand, had zero issues with the whole thing.

Sam fell in love with a fae who was friends with Tim, who regularly gave her nectar to keep her from aging, and Lea’s mom insisted upon being turned into a vampire, refusing to leave her daughters behind.

It eventually got out that Tim was an incubus. He hid it for a very long time, but nothing remains a secret forever. By that point, however, it was quite clear that he wasn’t human; humans aren’t in the public eye for several hundred years without aging, after all. Still, he generally didn’t discuss his personal life, and that suited Lea just fine. No matter how long things went on, no matter how many lifetimes she lived, she never really got used to the idea of publicly being the wife of a celebrity.

Not that people weren’t aware, of course. She attended events with him and everything, he just wouldn’t discuss their relationship.

They had a lot of kids. Not all at once, or course. Their first five were in rather quick succession—over the course of eighteen years, if one could count that as quick—and then they waited a good long while to have more. But after awhile, when all five children were grown with lives of their own, he convinced her to let him get her pregnant again.

Family reunions were very hectic indeed. Eventually, Tim had to purchase what Lea insisted was a palace. To be fair, a house—though referring to such a large estate as a house was more than a bit of a stretch—of that size was a necessity if they were to house their entire family—their children, descendants, and relatives—at once.

“Oh, goddammit,” she muttered as she stared at the results of the pregnancy test.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” came Tim’s voice. He’d only just strode into the room.

Irritated by his apparent inability to control his jizz, she tossed the test at him.

He caught it without thinking, fumbling with it for a moment before examining what she’d thrown at him. He looked up at her with wide, shocked eyes, a grin slowly splitting his face. “Again?”

“Yes, Timothée,” she snapped. “Again. Learn to control yourself, for fuck’s sake! We have great-great grandchildren!”

He pouted, almost whining when he said, “It’s not my fault! You’re just so sexy, you don’t look nearly old enough to warrant adult children, after all, let alone anything beyond that—“

“No,” she told him slowly, “the issue is you’re a glutton.”

He frowned outright then. “Do you… do you not want it…?”

She pursed her lips, turning around and going towards her closet. “I didn’t say that.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’m sorry. I honestly don’t mean to. I just… I love you so much, y’know?”

Lea put her hand over his, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah, Tim. I know.” She sighed. “I love you, too.”

“Does that mean you’re keeping it?”

Lea snorted softly. “Of course I’m keeping it, stupid. It’s ours; yours and mine.”

“You’re mine,” he murmured, tilting her head up so as to kiss her.

She smiled against his lips, threading her fingers through his hair. “And you’re mine.”

Tag list

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake

To be added, please ask 💗

[wisheduponastar]

Dine with me (658 words, M/M)

For Day 15 of @danganronpashipmonths Saioma month. Inspired by the prompt : Broken Promises

Kokichi's class is boring, but hopefully his lunch won't be. In fact - he's sure it won't be. Provided he can convince a certain someone to sit with him...

Or~ Kokichi tries to convince Shuichi to join him for lunch

Read on Ao3 or below

It was hard for Kokichi to believe this class had been going on for two hours. In one way, it seemed like they had already been stuck here for a century (trust them to pick the most boring senior to give a lecture to them). Kokichi was surprised everyone in the room hadn’t already died of old age. If it was any consolation, the lecturer would die of old age a bit before them - although Togami might kill them all with boredom first.

The second way, was time did fly for Kokichi occasionally. Mainly when he was staring at Shuichi, who was diagonally in front of him. Kokichi had a slight crush on the boy in front of him, and it was nice during these lectures to have something pretty to look at. Even if it was as simple as a gorgeous boy with dark blue hair and eyes that could never seem to decide their colour, but would still sparkle when a friend was around - or when he was excited. Or how they’d dip down if he was pleased and embarrassed, a smile spreading as well.

Briefly taking his eyes off Shuichi, Kokichi looked up to the clock. He blinked quickly, making sure what he was seeing was right and not some hallucination. But it was. It was actually twelve o’clock. Which meant, legally (maybe), Kokichi was allowed to finally escape this lesson. Glancing down to make sure he’d taken enough notes, Kokichi quickly swept all of his desk’s contents into his bag. Then, shuffling slightly, he slung it over one shoulder and got up.

Almost immediately he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, from the amused smile of Kaede to the icy glare of Byakuya. Smiling innocently, he turned to Byakuya, “It iiis twelve o’clock, y’know. We’re legally allowed to leave.”

“You assume you are legally allowed to leave.”

“Are you really gonna pull some sort of ‘the clock doesn’t dismiss you, I do’?” Kokichi laughed slightly, before batting his eyelashes slightly. “C’mon everyone! I’m leaving at least.”

With his last declaration, Kokichi quickly left, waving slightly as he exited the room. But like always, he waited, and only a few seconds after people began to leave the classroom. Smiling brightly at the glare he got from Togami and then Maki, he continued to wait until Shuichi came out.

“Shumai!!”

“Kokichi,” there was some surprise, but Shuichi still stopped for him, “You waited for me?”

“Obviously,” Kokichi grinned, “Who else is gonna sit with me at lunch?”

“You- what about,” Shuichi seemed to look around for a second, his eyes resting on Rantaro for a second before shaking his head, “I’ll eat lunch with you Kokichi.”

“Well, I don’t actually need lunch, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I just photosynthesise,” as he spoke, Kokichi briefly looked up to Shuichi, trying to see if he was smiling, “Or maybe that was just a lie!”

“Mmm,” Shuichi looked almost directly at Kokichi for a second, and he could feel himself begin to blush, “I don’t think you’re green enough yet.” “Green enough?” Kokichi blinked his eyes in an effort to summon crocodile tears, “Is my beloved Shuichi saying I’m slightly green already?”

“D-Don’t,” for a second, Shuichi was too flustered to do anything but stutter and look to the ground slightly, “I’m… not even your beloved. Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be going to lunch?”

“Aww, you wanna have lunch with me?”

“What?”

“Kay, I’ll do it this one time. But you owe me a favour now Shuichi!”

“You asked me.”

“Nishishishi, diiid I?” Kokichi skipped around slightly, almost circling Shuichi. “I think you’re lying. You know I hate liars!”

“I know you do,” said Shuichi, almost tiredly, “Where do you want to sit?”

“Anywhere that isn’t…” Kokichi looked around, waiting until he could spot Miu, “Next to her.”

“Sure,” Shuichi smiled slightly, “What about over there?” “The empty bench?”

“Yes.”

“Awww, does Shuichi want to be alone with me?”

[foxingpeculiar]

FF16 blogging: about to head off toward Twinside with Goetz. Spoilers up to that point.

I figured out what was nagging at me about Byron. It sounds like whoever’s voicing him is doing a John Cleese impression. Not a complaint, just an observation.

Okay, so I was wrong—that wasn’t Joshua/Ultima, that was apparently Harbard. But he also refers to Clive as Mythos and generally seems to be clued in to what’s going on, as does Barnabas. But how do they know what they know (and, again, how did Cid recognize Ultima) if there’s apparently no record of it, “nor even the conspicuous absence that would suggest concealed information” (Tomes)?

It’s clear that Clive is some kind of perfect vessel—that’s why he can absorb powers from other Eikons, plus Ultima basically said as much, and that “you were created for this purpose.” But by whom? My gut says Annabella has something to do with it, and maybe Olivier is some kind of second attempt or something? I still don’t know exactly what their end goal is, though, although it’s clearly… y’know, not good.

Did Kupka see Benedikta (naked, naturally) because the crystal was fucking with him, or was he just kind of totally losing his shit at that point? Might be a small distinction, but might be significant. Also, the way Harbard talks to him like a pet during their exchange in the dining room is suitably creepy.

So, I’ve mostly been avoiding reading anything about the game, but one of the few scraps I’d picked up was that the Titan fight was one of the hardest ones. And I got through the first phase like “pfff… he hit me like once, that was NOT hard.” Then there were two more phases and things got kinda nuts. I managed it in one go, but ended it with like 1/4 health and no Firelight. I did laugh cos like, twice during that fight Ifrit either cuts off his arms or smashes his hands. Like that’s a thing between the two of them.

But I’ve still only died a few times. And like 5 of them were to the Atlas hunt, the first S-rank hunt and the first one where I’m like “maybe I’ll come back to this later.” I was fighting him at level 33 (he’s at 45) and I can allllllllllllmost get him, but not quite yet.

Okay, what’s with the Medicine Girl? Cos she’s shown up 3 times now, and is on Vivian’s “persons of interest” chart off by herself. So there’s something going on there. But she only ever just passes by really quick so I don’t know what they’re doing with her.

So Dion is the queer rep here. Okay, good to know. And damn if Joshua doesn’t know how to make a dramatic entrance. Olivier becoming Emperor… well, I can understand why that would make zero sense to Dion on a couple of levels. But if there’s a “second vessel” type long-game being played here, then yeah. Still seems early to make that move, again, the kid is like 6, but go off, I guess.

I am very excited about the Enterprise, even though the quest-trilogy to get it built was a little sidequesty. I suppose it’s about having a moment with the characters, but when it was making me choose between Otto and Gav (I warily picked Gav), I was like “oh shit, is one of them going to die or something?” And was real nervous for a minute, until he started getting on with the “sappy shite.” Chose Jill over Tarja (whom I like, but c’mon) and hell yes I’ll split some soup and a pie with you girl, that sounds awesome.

The most interesting sidequest so far has been the one I got from the Alliant Reports dude re: Quentin. Cos, first, you get some of his backstory (fuck the system, take direct action and slit some throats), but moreso because it remains unresolved. When the quest ended, he was preparing for “war” and the next time I was in Lostwing for something, it was being evacuated. That and, at the point I am now, I’ve acquired some quests at the Hideaway that are the first ones I can’t just immediately go wrap up, one at a time. It won’t let me go anywhere but along the main story path for now, so I have to let them stack for a second and deal with them later.

Which is kind of an indication that the sidequests, like the Eikon fights, are getting more sophisticated as the game goes on. And that’s kind of interesting.

Okay, Mid’s lifeboat speech was fun, that bit with the flowers on the wind off Cid’s grave reminded me of the intro to FF8, and Goetz is a little TOO excited about coming along on this one. But let’s see what crazy thing happens next.

[m5ria]

Chapter 19: The Graveyard

I really, really don’t want to jinx anything. But the way I wake up the next morning is only raising my hopes. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe there is something about this deal. 

Oh, I know I speak too soon. I haven’t even tried one of Alastor’s tasks.

He didn’t say anything about it yesterday. Regardless, when we struck the deal, he did imply that there won’t be any more lessons until I complete one of his tasks. I suppose I’ll have to wait for him to call on me.

And this is why I know it’s the Radio Demon I’m dealing with and no one else.

Climbing down the stairs, I judge if I could take again the risk of going outside. Maybe resume hunting and hoping I could find buyers who’d be discreet. I’ll have to be really witty about it.

I aim to quickly go into the dining room and grab an apple before I see Angel is at the table, eating porridge.

I don’t have time to go back before he sees me. The tension is slightly awkward. We’ve never truly spoken since that day in the hallway. And mistakenly spying on him doesn’t count as an interaction.

“Y’know,” he rests his head on one upper hand, “you don’t have to avoid me.”

“I don’t know what I have to do,” I shrug.

“I was pissed, alright?” he rolls his eyes. “It passed.”

“Ok.”

I still stay awkwardly in the doorway. I’ve forgotten why I came here in the first place.

“What’s the deal with ya?” he asks. 

“Nothing!”

“Are you mad at me? Ever since him, you kept to yaself.”

“No, it’s not...” then I shut up. I can’t reveal the reason why I was so absent these days.

“Ok, then,” he waves one lower hand as if something annoys him. “D’you want to come with me and Cherri to smash some shit?”

He takes me by surprise. The invitation slightly makes me feel better.

“What kind of shit?” I eye him suspiciously.

“There’s an old graveyard not too far from here,” he points to some direction. “We can smash some stones or candles or some shit.”

“Why the hell does a graveyard exist in Hell?” I ask him.     

“It’s for the ones who double-die,” he shrugs. When I look at him still confused, he explains further: “Nobody’s mourning anybody here. After the Extermination, the graveyard fills itself with mortuary stones. A shit show from angels.”

“Oh, ok. Then, I’m in!”

His eyes are big for a split of a second as if he can’t believe how easy it was to convince me. Then he stands up and grabs a banana from the fruit bowl on the table. 

“Oh! Grab me an apple too!” I remember.

We leave together the dining room. I expected to go to the exit of the hotel, but Angel heads to the bar. To Husk.

“Heyyy, Husky!” he tries to caress the cat demon’s chin, but the other backs out.

“Fuck off, Angel.”

“D’you want to join us?”

“Are you gonna smash old stuff in that graveyard again?” Husk asks annoyed.

“You should try it sometime,” Angel advises. “Now that I think of it, I consider myself quite old as well …”

He winks at Husk.

“You never learn, Angel,” Husk sighs.

“And you never have fun, Husky!” 

Husk glances in my direction. After one look, he grabs something below the counter. A cocktail.

“Thanks, Husk!” I smile gladly, taking the bottle. This demon really knows his job.

“Would you like to give me one too, Husky?” Angel blinks sweetly at him. “Well, preferably without the tail.”

“ANGEL!” Husk and I shout at the same time.

“What?” he asks us. “Ah, you’re right! I like your tail!”

I grab Angel by his arm before Husk jumps at Angel’s throat. 

In fifteen minutes, we arrive at a foggy graveyard. It looks the same as any other on Earth.

Pity. 

“I expected something more … spooky,” I admit.

“It’ll be, toots!” Angel grows his third pair of arms, this time with a baseball bat. I stare at him, but this time no words escape my mouth.

“Did someone say scoots?” a voice comes from the most. I glance at Angel who’s grinning like an idiot.

“Have you heard yaself being called?” Angel provokes.

The silhouette of a girl emerges from the fog. The first thing I notice is that she has one malefic eye. The second one is that she plays with a ball in her hands.

“Take this!” she throws it. Angel jumps to his left and I disappear before the ball explodes.

“Close enough,” Angel stands up and smooths his clothes.

“Oh, hon! I haven’t even tried!” she smiles diabolically. Then she looks at me: “Who’s this?”

“She’s Diana,” Angel presents. “She’s the newest unredeemable sinner who’s probably looking for free rent.”

“Hey!” I protest.

“Ain’t it true, tho?” he raises an eyebrow.

I think of any good way to contradict him, but he’s 100% right. Why would I pretend any different?

“So, this is the chick you robbed that shop with?” Cherri asks Angel. “I’m officially jealous.”

“Hi!” The pathetic introduction makes me immediately slap myself mentally. “I’m …”

“The Wild One!” she tiptoes to me. “The mystery meat merchant.”

“Do you know about me?” I ask her bewildered. Weary.

She nods and says: “No. Angie told me.”

“Oh.”

“So, tell me,” she leans on my shoulder. “How much for a pussy?”

I jump back, leaving her to regain her balance. Angel laughs at her clumsiness.

“I hope you don’t mean cats,” I answer. “And I hope you don’t mean vaginas.”

“A third meaning?” she breathes in sharply with a hand on her mouth. “What can it be?”

“You must excuse Cherri here,” Angel chuckles. “She’s horny ever since she beat the shit out of Sir Pentipuss.”

“Sir Pentious,” she corrects him with a big smile.

“Dammit! You gave it to me!”

“Are we gonna fuck this place up or what?” Cherri shouts unnecessarily.

I look at them, one with a baseball ball and one with bombs. I came unprepared.

Not really, though.

I focus on my hands that clutch the air.

“Hey, Angie,” Cherri whispers to him. “What’s she doin’?”

“Her magic,” he whispers back.

In my hands, ice materializes in the imperfect form of an axe. I look at it quite proud.

“Woah!” Cherri’s eyes widen. “Are you the Snow Queen?”

“More like Elsa,” Angel gives his opinion.

“Wait, I thought you said you were old,” I look at him. “Elsa is from 2014.”

“Haven’t ya been carrying around that awful book all around ya?” Angel rolls his eyes. “How d’you think it came to Hell?”

“Do people bring things to Hell when they die?” I ask him curiously.

“Besides memories?” Cherri comes in. “Not really. Things just appear. Maybe Overlords bring them. Like Vox and his Voxflix or Velvette and her Sinstagram. By the way, you just have to follow me! My name is @bombingbichbabe.”

“Are we smashing things or chit-chatting?” Angel sighs exaggerating.

Cherri casually lets a bomb escape her pocket. Angel jumps like a cat from a cucumber. I, on the other hand, don’t react anyway. The bomb was not fired.

Cherri and I laugh at Angel’s hard breathing, which only accentuates his fluffy chest.

“How I got ya!” she punches him in the arm.

“Whatever!” he rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

I see Cherri summon another bomb. She fires it and then throws it as far as possible. Not three seconds pass before a bunch of rocks fly everywhere.

“Off for a big start, then?” Angel raises his bat.

I smile like a child and spin my ax between my fingers. With a sudden burst of energy, I swing it through a gravestone and it splits the stone in two with a satisfactory sound.

“WOO!” I cry out.

“Nice one!” Cherri looks at the perfect cut.

The sound of shattering multiple stones makes us both turn at Angel, who laughs maniacally. We split and start destroying everything we see.

It’s not like anyone needs them down here anyway.

After a while, the sweet music of explosions is accompanied by another song. A hymn, perhaps? I turn to Cherri and Angel who seem to consider this whole thing a kind of rebellion against Heaven. They give the middle finger to the sky and sing:

“Fuck you, Heaven!

You’re no haven!

Fuck you, Heaven!

You should shatter!”

“Is that an original?” I ask while I break another gravestone in four.

“How else???” Angel’s eyes widen with way too much energy.

When I try the next gravestone, my axe breaks. 

“What the...” 

I look at the ice axe, which was quite resistant all this time. Maybe I can’t keep ice strong as long as I want to. Or maybe...

I circle the gravestone, trying to read the name on it.           

Anita Cunningham.

No fucking way.

That last name … That last name was my mother's maiden surname … 

Anita is not her first name.

Of course, it isn’t! It’s an anagram. For Tiana Cunningham.

Anagrams were our secret language.

It doesn’t explain why her name is on this gravestone. She wouldn’t have fallen here. No, she was the sweetest, bravest and kindest person there could be. The best mother a child could ask for.

My mother was my guardian angel. Whenever my father was … temperamental, my mother would shield me the best way she could. Make my life a little more bearable. That was until I turned ten years old. She died suddenly, one day being fine and dandy and the next one gone. My father always told me that she was attacked by stray dogs. Mutilated in a way that he couldn’t recognize her anymore. He never let me see her body.

From that moment … I knew no more affection. Until him. And it was all a ruse.

I don’t realize how much I stayed in front of the gravestone, with my hand on the name, until Cherri’s biggest explosion so far brings me back to the present. I push back my tears and stand up.

“You saw that, Elsa?” Angel screamed at me.

“No more toots?” I shout back, swallowing my pain.

“Nah, you’re officially Elsa.”

“Oh, great …”

I try to summon another axe, but I fail. There’s no more ice in me. 

I walk and stop next to them. We stand on the edge of a big hole in the ground. It looks like a meteorite just fell. In the earth, there are remainings of bones and skulls.

“Is it their weird way of celebrating Halloween?” I ask no one in particular.

“It’s so weird!” Cherri speaks up. “The exterminators dissolve demons. There ain’t no corpses left.”

“Oh, fuck it!” Angel raises his hands bored and walks away.

“Where are you going?” I ask him.

Before he answers, a wind surrounds the three of us. It turns into a tornado and we’re pulled towards each other, towards the center.

“What the FUCK?!” Cherri screams.

But Angel and I remain speechless, as we already recognize the voodoo symbols around us. Next thing we know, we’re in the middle of a stage with a red curtain closed.

“Ah, tremendous!!!” someone speaks behind us. We turn and see Alastor smiling cheerfully, accompanied by clapping sounds. “You've brought company!”

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

[eatingpieislike]

Having an actual panic attack

tw: kind of a panic attack and maybe gunshots

so I’m posting this because my only friends that isn’t at summer camp is sleeping. So I was getting cookies and milk like I usually do and I heard what sounded like gunshots from outside. They were rly loud and didn’t sound like fireworks or anything like that. They sounded like they were right outside my house. The way my kitchen is is the kitchen facing the backyard, a butler’s pantry where we keep our plates and glasses and stuff and then our dining room which faces the busy street I live on. I was in the butler’s pantry grabbing my cup when it happened. I froze and then ran into my kitchen hiding behind the entrance so that I wasn’t visible to the window in my dining room. I quickly turned off the lights and went into my normal pantry where we keep all of our food. I stood there still holding the glass I grabbed for about 10mins. The whole time I heard noises from outside the door that sounded like someone was trying to open my back door that aloud you to access the backyard. It also sounded like someone was walking around my kitchen even though I didn’t hear anyone come down the stairs. But anyway when I got out I was hyper ventilating and I couldn’t think. I still had my milk and cookies but the whole time I heard noises coming from one of my cabinets that was big enough for someone the fit inside. So now I’m back in my bedroom and typing this because I need to tell someone this. If I die that kind of sucks but Y’know. I also might be hearing things because that’s happened before so :p

[aruanirmyparents]

Vamp!Aruani [Part 2/?]

Here’s part 2 of my fanfic! I feel like this will be quite the story lol. Thanks you guys for all of the kind reblogs! I hope you enjoy!

Armin walked up the long stairs, torches hanging on the walls to help light the way. Armin kept his head down, Eren’s face flashing in the back of his mind. Reiner’s hand gently touched Armin’s back, as a way of telling him to hurry up. Armin hurried his pace and tripped on one of the steps. He looked down at his hands that were shaking. Shit! Armin thought to himself.

“Are you okay?” Reiner asked him. “Y-Yes, I’m—” Armin was shoved into Reiner as Annie walked past him. “You’re slow.” She said as she continued up the steps.

Reiner sighed and shook his head. He looked down at Armin and forced a smile. “Come on.” He said. They continued up the steps and went beyond a white painted door that led into a glamorous room. The whole room was covered in white with gold trimmings. The doors were white with gold framing, the marble floors were white with golden cracks in them. Armin was amazed by the architecture, the art pieces from famous art institutions hanging on the ceilings, furniture that was decorated in a way that you could tell it was vintage. Had they collected all of these things?

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Reiner said. “I wanted to make sure humans felt welcomed and went a bit overboard.” He grinned.

Armin looked up at him and nodded, “Y-Yeah, it’s nice…” he said. He glanced behind himself and saw Reiner close the door. Eren was still down there. Eren’s body was still down there.

“Here, let’s go to the dining room.” Reiner suggested. Armin nodded and followed him into the next room over. It hadn’t occurred to him till now how Reiner was dressed. He wore a button up white shirt with black dress pants. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone and Armin thought that maybe he was going to an event soon.

The two of them walked into the dining room that was lit by the fireplace. This room was more dim and there was a weird smell emitting from it. There was a long table that stretched out. There were many chairs but Armin was sure only a few sat in them. “Here, have a seat.” Reiner suggested. He pulled out a seat and Armin reluctantly sat down. Reiner pulled Armin’s chair up to the table and then flashed over to the other side. It escaped Armin how fast these creatures were. Like how fast they killed Eren. Armin hadn’t even noticed Annie when she was behind Eren. She was that fast.

“What’re you in the mood for? I have the best chef money can buy. You just name it.” Reiner smiled. Armin stared down at the table, his hands in his lap.

“Um….” Armin began. Reiner stared at him, his hazel eyes were piercing. “Anything you want.” Reiner assured. Armin gripped at his knees and began breathing heavily. He couldn’t stop it, the tears that is. They burned in the back of his eyes, his throat ran dry and it hurt to swallow. He blinked once and a flow of tears ran down his cheeks.

“Oh…” Reiner said. Armin closed his eyes and made his lips into a straight line, trying to hold back the sobs crawling from the back of his throat. He hung his head and dug his nails into his knees. The emotional pain was worse than the physical.

“Why are you crying?” Reiner asked him. Armin heard his voice but couldn’t comprehend it. This was too much for him. Why Eren? Why was Armin still here? Why was he the one alive? Why did Eren have to die?

“Are you not hungry?” Reiner asked him. Armin let out a small chuckle and shook his head. Reiner frowned, “Then why are you crying? Was it something I said?” He asked him.

Armin took a deep breath before looking up from across the table at Reiner. “That boy that she killed….that was my best friend.” Armin sobbed. Reiner looked confused for a moment before going, “Oh! That guy that Annie killed? I’m so sorry about that. She tends to just jump the gun on those types of things, y’know? Don’t take it personally.” Reiner waved off the incident like it was nothing.

Armin glared at him, “But…he was murdered. She murdered him before even asking what he was doing.” He said.

“Well, he was trespassing. I can’t blame Annie for defending herself.”

“You’re vampires! We don’t stand a chance! Why would she need to defend herself?”

“Well,” a female voice rang next to Armin’s ear. He jumped and looked to his right to see Annie next to him. “I am just a helpless girl. A big strong man like him could’ve taken me easily.” She said. Her eyes were like rare crystals found in the depths of the underground. If she hadn’t just killed Armin’s best friend, he would’ve thought her as a cool beauty.

“Helpless my ass.” Reiner laughed. “There’s absolutely nothing helpless about you Annie. You could take on a whole army if you wanted and not break a sweat.” He said. Annie sat next to Armin. She shifted her body so that she was facing him. She crossed her legs and laid her head in the palm of her hand.

She was wearing a white dress that went to her thighs. Earlier she was wearing simple civilian clothes. She changed that fast? Her glare made Armin turn his attention back to Reiner.

“So, back to our conversation that was rudely interrupted…why were you in the tunnels?” Reiner asked. Armin breathed, “We….we were trying to find help….” Armin lied.

“Help?”

“Yes….me and Eren…..my friend, we—we were in trouble.”

“Trouble? How come?”

“Well, the feeding grounds, I’m sure as you know, they’ve become chaotic. Vampires have been refusing to pay organizations for the blood given to them and have been stealing and killing off humans.”

“Yes, the murder cases, I’m aware of them.”

“Yes, so, Eren and I, we heard that if you traveled through the tunnels on the east side, it would lead you to the warriors castle. And so, we came here and then….”

“Annie killed your friend��” Reiner shook his head. He looked at Annie who rolled her eyes at him. “Yes…” Armin said, looking back down.

“Well, you’re safe now….” Reiner said. “Relax, you’re welcomed here.” He said.

“You’re joking.” Annie said. Reiner looked at her, “Did you hear him? He was scared and came to us for our help.” He said. Annie shook her head, “You really are dumb.” She stood up from her chair.

“If you want to keep him as a snack then go on ahead. It’d be better if you just got rid of him. He smells.” She looked Armin up and down.

“Are you ever nice?” Reiner asked Annie. She walked out of the dining room, leaving Armin and Reiner alone.

[drivemysoul]

.

[mindofharry]

Harry’s house

Y/N does a live stream reacting to Harry’s house.

✧ ✧ ✧

“You ok with me sitting here, baby?” Harry asked as he sat down in front of you. You were currently sat at the dining room table, prepping for the live you were about to do. Harry didn’t want to be on the live, but he wanted to see your reaction.

“Of course you can, honey,” You said, plugging into the record player. Of course you got the vinyl early, but you want to stay true to the fan you are and wait until the 20th of may. Harry’s actually pretty surprised that you waited this long, considering you could’ve heard it anytime you want to.

“Are you ready for this?” You asked, looking up at your boyfriend. He had his head resting in his hand and an anxious look on his face.

“Yeah, just nervous, y’know?”

You nodded and leaned over to place a hand on his, you gave it a supportive squeeze.

“Everything you write is fucking amazing, I have no doubt this album will be amazing too,”

Harry blushed at the compliment, kissing your hand.

“Now, your fans are waiting for me,”

Harry scoffed, “They’re more like your fans now. They like you better than me,”

You giggled and propped your phone up, you hit the instagram app and then swiped left to give you the option to go live. You were excited and nervous, more nervous because people would be watching you react to the songs, but ultimately you felt an insane amount of love and proudness for Harry. He poured his heart and soul into this album and you know all his hard work is going to pay off.

You pressed the go live button and sat back, your smile taking over your face. Fans tumbled in and soon, you were the most popular live on that day.

“Hi guys!” You said waving your hand, you got up from your chair to grab the vinyl. It was still in the case, so kissed Harry’s face on it.

Y/Nlover: she’s so cute 🥹

username: she’s such a supportive gf!

harrylover: my fav celeb gf

“Welcome to our own little listening party!” You said, gripping the album.

“I have not listened to any of the unreleased songs. Cross my heart and hope to die,” You said, taking the lyric book out of the case.

You opened it up and squealed, turning it to show the camera. “Now isn’t this just the sexiest man you’ve ever seen?” You said, looking over at Harry who was shaking his head at you with a teasing smile.

username: she’s definitely looking at h rn

username: SHES SO FUNNY

username: are we listening to the full album?

“Yes, baby! We’re listening to the full album, so get your snacks ready,” You said putting the vinyl on your record player.

Music for a sushi restaurant started first, your eyes widened and you began to bop up and down.

“This is so slay,” You mumbled, sipping on your drink.

The songs went on and your reactions were princess, definitely being made into memes. Matilda came on and the lyrics hit you hard, immediately you were sobbing and nearly choking on your spit.

“I am not okay, guys,” You sobbed, pounding at your chest.

“This album destroyed me,”

[petersasteria]

hope ur ok || holland!reader

sour masterlist || holland!reader || sour taglist

3,637 words tw: sad shit bc spoiler: someone dies, italics are flashbacks, bold is a letter i don't have a holland reader banner so i used the olivia banner instead. also, sorry for the delay of posting this lmao

* * * *

You were in your room, sitting on your bed as your eyes looked around. Your room was painted your favorite color and it made your brothers jealous because their rooms were painted white, it was boring. Yours had posters, polaroids of you and your siblings, fairy lights, a bean bag chair, and a simple full body mirror. You heard a knock on your door and you looked to see that it was Tom smiling brightly with a plate of your favorite cookies.

“Hey.” He said softly as he entered the room and shut the door behind him with his foot while balancing the plate of cookies in his hands.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Sam kicked me out of the kitchen, but I was there first and fortunately, I finished the cookies on time. I hope they taste alright.” Tom said as he sat beside you, the plate of cookies in between you.

“They smell good, so you did a good job.” You chuckled. Tom took one cookie and looked at you, “Taste test.”

He took a bite and chewed it a few times before saying, “It tastes alright. It’s not like how Sam makes it, but I’m not Sam. I’m Tom.”

Both of you erupted into a fit of giggles as you talked about random things. The plate of cookies were now on your bedside table and only half of the cookies were eaten.

“Hey, how’s your friend?” Tom asked casually. Both of you were laying on your bed, facing the ceiling.

“Which friend?”

“The blond one who had one hell of a musical talent.” Tom said. “He used to come here and play on Sam’s piano.”

“Oh, James! I don’t really know what happened to him. We, uh, fell out of touch.”

“I see.” Tom said. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Same here.” You told him. “My friend, Madeline, got a scholarship last time I checked. She got accelerated in school and she got to attend uni ahead of us. I’m really proud of her, y’know?”

“Where is she now?” Tom asked.

You looked at Tom with sorrow in your eyes. He glanced at you and he could see how hurt you were. “We don’t talk...anymore. We used to. She’s basically like a sister to me, but we don’t talk anymore. Regardless, I’m really happy for her and I miss her. Wherever she is, I hope she’s alright.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door and Tom sat up quickly. The door opened and revealed Sam. “Hey, it’s time to eat dinner. You’re washing the dishes tonight, Tom!” Sam said before leaving.

“That little shit.” Tom laughed. “C’mon, Y/N. Let’s eat!” He got up from your bed and you followed suit with worry and concern in your eyes. You shook your head and shrugged it off. What you’ll say can wait.

Both of you went down to join everyone on the dining table. You sat in your usual seat, but didn’t contribute in the conversation. You were just happy to be there. You looked around and saw how happy your brothers were. You looked at your parents and saw them smiling. It was a beautiful sight to see. After all, all you wanted was for them to be happy. They deserve to be happy.

Harry and Tom cleaned up as you watched them help each other. “Next time, we should cook Y/N’s favorite dinner.” Tom said. Harry looked at him and shrugged, “Why not? I never liked it, but I’m sure she’d appreciate it very much.”

The next few days were spent with Tom. He never left your side and he made sure you were alright. You were the youngest and as the eldest Holland child, he made it his job to look after you. He wasn’t close with you before, but somehow as you grew older, it changed. Tom was now excited to spend time with you. He loved talking to you and he loved laughing with you. In his opinion, you make his stress and worries fade away.

Your birthday is coming up and he wanted everything planned out. He already had plans, actually. He knew what cake you wanted, he knew what decorations to put up, he planned the food, and he even had a theme in mind. He was really prepared. Paddy had to go with Tom in town just to buy balloons. Tom was really going all out.

“Are you going to help me set up tonight? Y/N’s birthday is tomorrow and I want her to be surprised when she wakes up. I can already imagine her face.” Tom smiled excitedly as he parked the car in the driveway.

“I can’t help you tonight. I have homework.” Paddy said as he looked at Tom who just shrugged. “Alright. No problem. Stay in school, Pads.” Tom smiled before exiting his car with Paddy following him.

They walked in and Tom saw you sitting on the arm of the couch with Sam and Harry. Tom smiled at the sight. “Hey, guys!” He greeted, causing the three of you to look at Tom and Paddy.

“Wow, you went shopping for a lot of things.” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Sam asked with a grin.

“Nothing.” Tom smirked. “I’ll put these in my room.” Tom left and went upstairs to his room as Paddy walked to the couch and sat next to you. You looked at Paddy and smiled. You weren’t close with him, but you loved him dearly. You were only one year younger than him and he was always kind to you and you liked hanging out with him.

You looked at Sam and Harry and you held back a chuckle as you watch them annoy each other. It was a lovely sight to see.

Night time came and dinner was over a few hours ago. You were just standing in your backyard feeling the wind blowing and you knew that something was about to happen. You just didn’t know what. The backdoor opened and you turned around to see Tom with a small smile.

“What’re you doing out here? It’s cold.” He said as he tugged his jacket closer. He walked towards you and stood beside you. “What’s on your mind?”

You shrugged, “Nothing. I guess I’m just tired. I think I’ll rest now.”

Tom nodded. He suddenly remembered his plan and said, “Yeah, you can go upstairs now. I, uh, prepared your room.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him. You walked towards the back door and stopped to turn around to look at Tom. He was already looking at you and you said, “I- Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” He smiled sweetly. You opened the door and walked in and went straight up the stairs to your room.

Tom stayed outside for a minute before walking in. He locked the back door and went to the living room where his brothers were. “Hey, guys! Ready to decorate?” Tom asked with a huge smile on his face. It was evident that he was excited.

“What’re you talking about?” Sam asked, looking at Tom with a confused face.

“Yeah, what’s happening?” Paddy questioned.

Tom scoffed and crossed his arms, “How could you guys forget?! It’s our sister’s birthday tomorrow and you guys aren’t preparing at all!”

Tom was yelling as the rest were looking at him sadly. Sam’s eyes were clouded with tears as he looked at Tom. Harry and Paddy looked at Sam, not wanting to be the ones to remind Tom. Sam sighed and closed his eyes and his tears fell. He wiped his tears and opened his eyes to face Tom.

“Tom, mate, she’s dead.” Sam said softly. “She’s been dead for two months now.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Tom shook his head slowly. He looked away from Sam and he saw you standing behind Sam. “She’s right there, Sam! She’s literally right behind you! How can you not see it?!”

“Tom, stop! She’s gone, okay?!” Harry exclaimed. “Y/N’s not here! She won’t be here anymore and it’ll be that way forever. We just have to accept that.”

“It was leukemia, Tom. She didn’t make it and we had a funeral and everything.” Paddy said softly.

You were confined in the hospital for about a week now and you were getting weaker and weaker as the days went on. Your family was trying to be positive, but all of you knew that it was your time to go. Before you were confined, you had written letters for them to read after you die and it was now hidden in their drawers.

Tom and Harry weren’t there when you passed because they were in a different country. They immediately went home when they heard the news. All of you knew that you weren’t going to make it, but all of you ignored that fact. Everyone except Tom was grieving. He held his mother as she cried and he stayed strong for his brothers. He couldn’t remember the last time he and his brothers slept in one room and he hated that they chose to do it again as soon as you were gone.

It was like a sleepover. They all talked about you and everything you did that the others didn’t know about. Turns out, you had secrets you shared with everyone except Tom.

“Wait, she told you guys about her secrets?” Tom asked that night.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, eyes bloodshot from all the crying. “If something happens to her, she tells the first person she sees.”

“She never told me anything.” Tom stated.

“That’s because you’re the eldest. No one tells people about themselves to the eldest sibling.” Paddy answered.

“That’s unfortunate.” Tom frowned. “I wish I knew the things you knew.” He added.

“It’s alright, Tom. She didn’t have major secrets, anyway. Besides, she was just scared to tell you. That’s why she did that.” Sam explained.

Tom couldn’t sleep that night as he looked at his brothers. They were cuddled up next to each other and were fast asleep. Tom couldn’t help but think of you before finally drifting off. Days later, it was the funeral. The whole house was quiet and while your mum, Nikki, would appreciate it, for once in her life she wanted the noise. She wanted to hear boisterous laughing, heavy footsteps running up and down the stairs, yelling, the sound of Sam cutting vegetables, Dom’s loud typing, Paddy talking to his friend on the phone, Harry telling you to wake up and calling you a lazy bum for not being productive, and Tom playing with Tessa outside. Now, there was none of that.

When a husband or wife dies, the one they left behind is called a widow. When a child dies, what do you call their parents? No one’s ever come up with a word for that yet because it’s too painful to think about. You were young and you deserved all the best life has to offer. Nikki was devastated, but she knew that wherever you were, you aren’t in pain anymore and that was enough for her.

Tom wanted to scream, but he didn’t. He was numb. After the funeral, he and Harry decided to take a break from traveling to spend time with the rest of the family. He stopped working for a while and everyone understood that.

When they got home, Tom went straight to his room and cried. He cried and cried until no tears came out. His head ached, but he didn’t want to get up and get himself a glass of water. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table to ask Harry, but his phone died. Tom scoffed, sat up, and reached the drawer of his bedside table. He leaned over to look for his phone charger, but he saw a letter instead. It had his name on it and he realized that it was your handwriting. Tom quickly grabbed it and put his phone back on the bedside table. He opened the envelope and read what you wrote for him.

Dear Tom,

Hi. When you read this, you know that I'm gone. I'm sorry that we never got to bond a lot. I guess it's my fault because I was so scared of you. Despite that, I want you to know that I'm really happy for you and I'm proud of you.

You're my inspiration and please know that I'm very proud to be your sister.

I don't know where I'll end up when I'm gone, but please don't worry about me. I'll be okay, I can feel it. I'll just go where the wind takes me.

You're a kind person for the whole time I've known you. I'll miss everything and I'll miss your pranks and jokes. Please never stop doing those just because I'm gone. I hope you think of me whenever you tell a joke or pull a prank on Harry again.

I wish we bonded more. I wish we made cookies until Sam kicked us out of the kitchen because he needed to prepare for dinner. I wish we watched movies together and I wish we spoke often.

I'll miss you all the time and I love you. So much. Never forget that.

Your sister,

Y/N/N x

Tom cried again until he slept with the letter resting on his chest. The next morning, he got up to go to your room. He dreamt of you and he wanted to tell you about it. He glanced at the door and noticed that it was unlocked. He slowly opened it and to his surprise, he saw you standing there watching everyone outside from your window.

“Y/N.” Tom said.

You turned around and smiled at him, “Hey, Tom.”

“I dreamt of you! And in my dream, you were a ballet dancer. We did ballet together. Wouldn't that be something? It could be a bonding thing for us." Tom said with a big smile as he fully entered your room. All of a sudden, he forgot about your sickness, your death, your sickness. From an outsider's point of view, it was a sad sight to see. He was clearly in the denial stage.

Harry was on his way downstairs when he heard a voice coming from your room. He quietly opened the door and saw Tom excitedly talking to thin air.

"You know, I'm not doing anything anytime soon. Why don't we go out? It'll just be you and me, Y/N." Tom smiled. Harry's heart broke upon hearing this. His older brother was imagining their dead sister. Harry kept it to himself because he thought that Tom was coping that way.

It wasn't until Sam witnessed the same thing. Tom was in the kitchen and he was talking to thin air once more. Sam watched as Tom laughed and said a bunch of things. Sam kept it to himself too.

Paddy, however, was different. He went to Harry and Sam's room, unannounced. He closed and locked the door behind him as the twins looked at him in confusion.

"Okay, I can't be the only one to notice it." Paddy said with arms crossed.

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Tom." Was all Paddy said. The twins looked at each other before looking back at Paddy.

"What about him?" Sam asked, his eyebrows were raised a bit.

"Tom told me that he'll bake Y/N's favorite cookies tomorrow because Y/N said she was craving for it." Paddy explained.

"I saw Tom talking to thin air the day after the funeral. He was in Y/N's room." Harry confessed.

"I saw him doing that too, but he was in the kitchen this time. I'm worried about him." Sam said.

"What should we do?" Harry asked with a frown on his face.

"Let's just let him be for a while. Let’s just intervene when it gets out of hand.” Sam decided as the other two nodded.

They just let Tom be until they had enough.

Tom couldn't believe what his brothers were telling him. He felt sick to his stomach. His baby sister was gone and the thought of it ate him alive. He shook his head and Sam said, “Tom, everything will be alright. We’ll get through this together. We’ll be fine.”

“That can’t be true. I’ve been speaking to her. Stop fucking lying.” Tom cried.

“Tom, wake up! She’s not here, alright?! She’s not in her room anymore. Her things will forever be untouched and her books will be dusty. Her phone hasn’t been charged since she died and it’ll stay that way. All we have left are pictures, videos, and memories of her. We should accept that because no matter what happens, we can’t bring her back!” Harry said as his voice was raised.

“Just go to bed, mate. You’re tired.” Paddy said softly. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Tom wiped his tears and went up to his room, slamming the door. He went to sleep and dreamt of you again. Both of you were on top of a small hill and the wind was blowing softly.

“Why can’t they see you?” Tom asked you.

“Because I only showed myself to you. I know that we haven’t been really close and I figured you’d want some kind of closure. In truth, I’m only here because of you. The light has been calling me and they want me to leave already, but I can’t because I know you’d be sad. I hate seeing you sad.” You explained.

“Then stay here.” Tom begged, but you shook your head.

“You need to let me go, Tom. It’s time. I can’t stay here forever.” You chuckled lightly.

“I just- I feel like nothing. When you were around, I felt like I had a purpose. Now, I just wish I could be with you.” He admitted.

“Don’t say that. Imagine how everyone will react if you’re gone. They’ll be upset. I’m so proud that you’re alive and well because you’ll get to go on with life and grow old. If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. Live the life I never got to live. Trust me when I say that you’ll be happier when you move on.”

“I don’t want to forget you and I don’t want you to think that we’re having fun without you.” He said.

“I won’t think that way because all I ever wanted for all of you is to be happy and healthy. I love you and I miss you, but I want you to have fun and to keep doing everything you love. Don’t stop because I’m gone. Don’t let me be a hindrance because that’ll make me sad and I’ll haunt you forever.” You said as Tom chuckled. “Besides, you don’t have to forget about me. I’ll always be in your heart.”

“Alright.” Tom said. “I think I’m ready to let you go.”

You smiled and nodded as you walked away and stepped into the light. Tom shouted, “Happy birthday, Y/N!”

You looked back and smiled. With that, he knew you were thanking him not just for greeting, but also for everything.

Tom woke up and it was already morning. He decided to get ready and to head to the cemetery. He walked downstairs and saw his brothers eating breakfast.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked before eating his cereal.

“The cemetery. It’s Y/N’s birthday.” Tom said. “I’ll go now. I don’t know what time I’ll be back.”

Tom left and the drive to the cemetery was short and quiet. He parked the car and walked to your grave. He smiled when he saw a small, framed picture of you that Harry placed there not too long ago. He sat in front of your grave and smiled, “Hey, Y/N. I know you can hear me.”

“I guess I did look crazy for a while and I now understand how everyone felt. I, um, I read your letter. I’m sorry too, y’know? I’m sorry I never made the effort to spend time with you. I guess it’s because all my life, I’ve only known about having brothers and when you came along, I didn’t know how to act. But I’m really happy that I got to see you grow up and I’m happy with our few moments together.”

“When you were five, I was fourteen. It’s a wide gap and I remember being so annoyed because your toys were everywhere.” He chuckled at the thought. “Regardless, I loved you and I still do. I’m happy that you grew up to be kind and loving. I’m really fucking happy for that.”

“In your letter, you said that I shouldn’t worry about you. Y/N, I’m sorry, but I can’t promise that. I’m your older brother and that automatically makes me sort of like a second parent especially when mum and dad aren’t around. So, I’ll always worry about you even though I know you’re okay and not in pain.”

“I do, however, promise to always dedicate my pranks to you. I know you’d love that. I’d wish that we bonded, but we already did that. You gave me a chance to get to know the sister I never got to know and that, above all, makes me so happy and grateful. That’s enough for me.”

“I don’t want to say cheesy shit and ask for guidance. I don’t want to burden you in heaven. Like, it’s called a resting place for a reason and I want you to rest easy. I just want to say that I miss you so much and I love you. Happy birthday.” He finished.

Just then, he felt the wind blow in his direction and he knew that you were okay.

* * * *

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @celestialholland @alinastarkrovs @piscesparker @prancerrparkerr @spideyspeaches @givebuckyhisplumsnow @blueleatherbag @theonly1outof-a-billion @hollandbroz-n-haz @starlight-starks @webmeupspiderdaddy @studiesinspanish @bi-lmg @minejungwoo @blossomhollands @markhyucksmells @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch

[s-serendipit-y]

never alone

request: could I get a kokichi x reader hurt/comfort imagine? like, kokichi has a bad day and ends up opening up to his s/o and then s/o totally babies him? makes him a bath, cuddles him and gets him snacks etc- really just pampers him and makes him feel all special and soft? (bonus points if there's atleast one forehead kiss involved) anyways, thank you, and I'm sorry if requests aren't open/you can't do this one qwq

characters: kokichi ouma

notes: i’m not really sure if this fits your request that much, but i really liked how this turned out and i hope you do too

cw: canon violence and language

kokichi was not well liked and he knew that. being trapped in this school for gifted juveniles with sixteen other students - that number slowly dwindling - only made it worse. everyone believed that cooperation with each other would be best to defeat the headmaster named monokuma, but kokichi knew that wouldn’t work. this was a sick game that wanted everyone to fall into despair, if everyone corporates they’ll be hit with a even bigger motive then someone will die and that fake trust they had for each other would go down even more.

yet kokichi didn’t need everyone to like him, just one person, s/o was the only person he actually trusted and despite the constant lies he told, they trusted him too. they were someone he knew he could depend on even if others wouldn’t stand behind him. he could let his facade down in front of you, he didn’t like this killing game; actually he despised it with his entire being. he doesn’t want anyone else to die, he wants to confront the mastermind.

the morning announcements had went off not long ago and the remaining students- excluding kokichi - had met in the dining hall as usual. you sat alone in the corner eating breakfast waiting for kokichi to arrive, it did worry you when he didn’t appear at the same time as everyone else, but you don’t want to imagine that someone might’ve done something over night.

“gonta has plan,” the ultimate entomologist breaks the silence gathering everyone’s attention. you look up, also interested in what he would say. “gonta will fight exisals so everyone else can escape.”

“are you crazy! they’ll kill you!” tsumugi exclaims.

“what are you guys talking about?” kokichi opens the door to the dining hall making a beeline towards where you were sitting.

“gonta wants to fight the exisals so we can all escape.” you tell him. kokichi laughs, “wow gonta you really are dumb.” everyone goes silent.

“you’ll just end up dying, but i guess that’ll make the killing game even more fun so go ahead ahead and do it!”

“kokichi-“ shuichi begins but is quickly cut off. “in fact, i plan on winning this killing game and i don’t care if i have to become a blackened to do so. only two people have to survive right? so it’s gonna be s/o and i, all of you will di-“

kokichi didn’t even get to finish before kaito punches him on his face. “you always been weird but this is a different level kokichi, you need to get your shit together.” kaito states staring that the boy.

kokichi says nothing, his hair covering his face only thing visible is the red mark that was on his cheek. he walks off in silence leaving everyone in the dining hall, “seriously how the hell do you deal with him? are you seriously okay with what he’s saying?” kaito asks you.

everyone’s eyes turned to you and you freeze, what could you say? you knew kokichi was lying but even if you tell them that his motives will still be unclear to everyone else. you stand up running out of the dining hall without saying anything, you had to know if kokichi was alright first.

it took multiple tries but kokichi finally opened his door for you, you locked it behind yourself both of you sitting on his bed.

“are you alright?” you whisper resting your fingers in his hair, he closes his eyes leaning into your touch. he shrugs, “my face seriously hurts,” he says. you smile slightly pressing a light kiss to his swollen cheek.

“i’m sorry i should’ve stepped in,” you admit, kokichi looks at you. “no you shouldn’t have, if kaito would’ve punched you i would’ve killed him.” he gives you his signature smile but it drops seconds later.

you both sit in silence for a moment before you stand up taking your hand out of his hair. “c’mere,” you murmur pulling him off the bed heading towards the bathroom.

“s/o if you wanted to see me naked you could just said so,” he teases. you roll your eyes, “not like that dummy,” you turn on the water plugging the tub so the water would fill it. “take a bath, alright? i’ll be right back.” kokichi looked confused but went along with your request. you shut the bathroom door behind you, leaving his dorm to grab his favorite snacks.

when you returned kokichi was already finished sitting on his bed, you hand him the snacks and sit next to him. “sorry that is not really a breakfast but you haven’t ate yet so…” you trail off.

kokichi says nothing and opens the snacks, “thank you s/o.” he says and you nod. the silence didn’t last for long, after building up the courage you said, “you know i care about you right? you can talk to me about anything at all.” you place your hand on his cheek so he’d look at you.

kokichi sighs, “i know s/o, and there are things i’m not telling you just so i can protect you. “ he admits.

even though there were multiple times kokichi had opened up to you, it still shocks you. he was letting he walks down one by one for you, showing how much he trusts you. “i want to protect you too y’know.”

he says nothing pushing you lightly so you were laying down, he rests he head on top of your chest. you immediately wrap your arms around him feeling him sigh into your touch.

“when we get out of here,” he says, “i want you to meet d.i.c.e”

you were guessing that was the name of his organization, he’s never really talked about it before or told anyone the name of it.

“i can’t wait to meet them, i bet they’re amazing just like you.” you say. you feel him smile against you.

“yeah they’re cool, but no one’s better than i am.” he says. there’s the kokichi you knew and love, you use your other hand to ruffle his hair. “of course not! you’re the best.”

it was silent again, you let your eyes travel across his room. evidence from past cases were everywhere, even a board with everyone’s picture on it and how trustworthy they were. you being the most trustworthy and shuichi having “trustworthy?” (or is it stay cautious, in the japanese ver. i heard it was that) scribbled under his name. everyone else was labeled suspicious or weird.

“s/o…” kokichi breaks the silence first. “please don’t die. i don’t want to be alone here.” he whispers. you look down at him rubbing your hand across his back. “i don’t want anyone to die but if you-“ he pauses.

“i’m not leaving you.” you state. “don’t die on me either, i love you kokichi.” you press a kiss you his forehead.

“i love you too s/o.”