#also i lost phone service again so its been hard to be here with no internet

[jacobseed]

sorry i just keep disappearing i’m trying to be active here i swear i will post normally soon 😭 i miss yall

[sugar-omi]

NVM I DID EDIT THIS AND I LITERALLY REWOTE THIS WHOLE THING THEN REWROTE THE LAST HALF SO LIKE ITS BETTER BUT ALSO KINDA SHIT BC ITS ALMOST 7 N I HAVENT SLEPT..... anyway enjoy a piece of whats going on inside emy brain <3333

tags : NSFW, step 4 cove + baxter, all readers, poly cove/reader/baxter, bottom baxter, (service) top cove, mean dom reader!!, over stimulation, they take pics/vid for you, phone sex, dirty talk

synopsis : cove and baxter have some fun while you're away.

baxter felt like his head was spinning...

just a few weeks ago he was planning a wedding, than before he knew it you and cove asked him to be your boyfriend.

and now he's over at your and cove's house, standing in your kitchen with cove draped over his back.

he can't help but squirm, the overwhelming, but welcomed, affection was new to him yet he was soaking it in like a sponge.

cove hums, nuzzling into baxter's neck and starting to press kisses down the side of his neck to his shoulder, pulling baxter's hips back into him.

baxter laughs timidly, not use or expecting this side of cove. "it's hard to make lunch with a giant on your back."

cove smiles and doesn't respond except for sucking a mark under baxter's jaw.

baxter drops the knife he was using to cut up some veg, turning around to face cove. he presses baxter up against the counter, wrapping his arms around him again.

"don't you wanna eat?" baxter pets cove's hair, cupping his cheek.

cove covers baxter's hand with his own, kissing his wrist. "mm... not hungry for food anyway."

baxter flushes, swallowing. baxter is hard to fluster, but something about this usually shy man being so forward makes baxter blush. "what're you hungry for then?"

cove grazes his teeth over baxter's wrist, teasing him. "you."

baxter hums and licks his lips, his eyes dropping to cove's lips as he weighs his options.

"kiss me then..." baxter mumbles, leaning into cove and meeting him in the middle for a deep kiss.

baxter gets lost in the feeling of cove's lips, cove's hands somehow end up under baxter's shirt.

well.. cove's shirt, since baxter lost one of his bags that had his night clothes in them.

he whines into cove's mouth, letting his hands roam over cove's toned shoulders, down his biceps and finally hooking his arms around cove's neck, just losing himself in the kiss.

cove pulls away much to baxter's displeasure, huffing through his nose.

before baxter can say anything else or pull him into another kiss, cove speaks up.

"we don't have to do anything.. i just uh..." cove laughs and smiles shyly. he's so cute. "i'm jus' happy you're here."

baxter feels his heart warm up and swell. he's never been loved like this but fuck it feels good.

baxter tangles his fingers in cove's hair, leaning towards cove. "i'm happy to be here too, so please.." baxter smirks lazily, "indulge me. i want whatever you want.."

this time baxter closes in for a kiss, much more heated than the last kiss and cove lets baxter take control, almost purring because he's so happy to have baxter in his hands.

cove's hands slip down to baxter's butt, and baxter pulls away to make a taunt but cove cuts him off, mumbling something about "jump" before lifting baxter up.

baxter jumps, mostly out of surprise, hooking his arms and legs around cove. baxter laughs, thrilled by the change of position. "oh my... well aren't you assertive." baxter purrs, basking in the flush that comes over cove's face.

cove rolls his eyes, ignoring baxter's comment and starts the trek to your bedroom.

something about cove carrying baxter is strangely arousing, and baxter takes the opportunity to latch onto cove's neck, leaving kisses and faint hickey's on his bronze skin.

cove groans, mumbling something but he seems happy so baxter keeps it up.

cove pinches his thigh, making baxter yelp. "you're gonna make us crash into the wall..."

baxter laughs. "well then pay attention, handsome."

cove doesn't respond, kicking the door open with his foot and he sits baxter on the bed like he's a piece of fine china.

baxter tugs his shirt over his head, throwing it at cove and crawling away to the middle of the bed, purposefully giving cove a view of his boxer clad butt, to make himself comfortable.

he flops onto the mountain of pillows, wiggling. "well, come get me, pretty boy."

cove is very flushed, but if the prominent bulge in his sweats are anything to go by, then this is a very good sign...

cove joins baxter in the middle of the bed, straddling him and pulling him into a kiss.

everything is a blur, and somewhere in the midst of making out, baxter started grinding into cove, moaning into his mouth.

cove falls down to baxter's neck, kissing the mole there. baxter squirms, his nails dragging down cove's back..

"do you wanna stop?" cove speaks around a mouth full of baxter's porcelain skin.

"n-no.. fuck don't stop." baxter gasps, digging his fingers into the muscles of cove's back.

baxter's world feels like it's spinning. cove is so intoxicating, and baxter needs so much more.. baxter pants, rutting up into cove. "please... fuck me.."

cove pulls away, searching baxter's gaze before he nods and reaches over to grab a condom and lube.

he abandons it nearby to tug off his sweatpants and boxers, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but baxter doesn't mind since he's equally as antsy.

baxter's eyes drop to ogle cove's length, biting his lip while he takes in the size..

cove isn't a small man, so baxter expected him to proportional downstairs as well, but thinking and seeing are two different things, and baxter has so many thoughts racing in his head.

"uh.. baxter?" cove speaks up, snapping baxter outta his daze. baxter hums, signaling cove to continue.

"we don't have to go all the way.. or you could top me? whatever you want." cove smiles, feeling sheepish but wanting to be comforting.

"maybe next time, but for now..." baxter starts tugging his boxers off, throwing them off to the side. "i need you in me."

cove swallows, nodding. "tell me if you wanna stop."

baxter should've expected it, or at least have a fleeting thought. cove is so active and so loving that it makes sense that he takes multiple rounds to shower you in pleasure.

but he didn't, and now cove is slowly pulling him apart with his mouth on baxter's cock, holding his hand and keeping his hips down by pressing on baxter's abdomen.

cove takes baxter down his throat, his tongue easily lapping at the bottom of his cock and when he pulls back, a dirty mix of spit and pre-cum fall from cove's puckered lips, pumping his fist over baxter's cock before diving back in.

baxter gasps, his stomach straining when he sucks in a sharp breath. he's gonna cum..

"cove-!" baxter cries, tugging on cove's hair and whining about how close he is. cove is persistent, keeping his lips wrapped around baxter's cock as he cums into cove's waiting mouth.

baxter pants, covering his face with his arm.

fuck he's so sensitive..

cove starts kissing his inner thighs, smiling when baxter gasps and his cock twitches, still hard and flushed.

"you're so cute.." cove purrs, a smile in his voice. baxter peaks at him, watching cove's every move.

cove kisses baxter's hand, "still want more?"

baxter nods, "please.."

cove smiles and reaches for the lube, pouring it over his fingers and settling himself between baxter's legs.

baxter sighs, letting cove work him open with his fingers. "mm-"

cove captures him in a kiss, soaking up baxter's moans, sinking his fingers into his pliable hole, scissoring and massaging his insides with his long digits..

baxter tries to speak in between kisses. "ahh- hurry.. *kiss* up!"

"i never knew you were so impatient." cove laughs, kissing baxter's cheek.

cove sits up, baxter huffs at the loss, but doesn't complain since cove rips the packet open and is rolling it over his cock before baxter can come up with something.

cove kisses baxter's thigh that's propped up on his shoulder, soothing baxter's stuttered moans with praise as he sinks into him.

"that's it... good boy." cove holds his hand, waiting for baxter to get accustomed to every ink of dick cove sinks into him.

by the time he's taken cove to the hilt he's panting and dazed. he's so full, and cove towering over him like this makes him feel small and vulnerable, and it feels amazing to be smothered like this.

cove laughs, stroking one of baxter's thighs. "you okay? still with me, darling?"

baxter exhales, melting at the pet name you two have dubbed for him. baxter grips the pillows, blinking away his haze. "mm. you.. you can move now."

cove nods, kissing baxter's thigh again and pulls his hips back slowly. baxter hums lowly, enjoying the drag of cove's cock against his gummy walls.

cove pauses, looking up at baxter. "how do you want it?"

baxter bites his lip. oh?

he grins arrogantly and purrs. "hard. don't pull any punches, i want you."

cove doesn't respond verbally, snapping his hips into baxter making him moan loudly.

oh fuck-

baxter barely has time to think, cove's hips rearing back to fuck his hard and deep, his tip bumping into baxter's prostate and making him moan loudly.

it's really good you aren't at his apartment. he'd definitely be getting a noise complaint because baxter doesn't stifle any of his noise.

not that cove would let him anyway, since when baxter turns to bury his face in the pillow, cove smacks his thigh. it doesn't hurt, but it still surprises him.

cove gazes at him lasciviously. "don't hide from me."

baxter nods, panting. "yes, sir."

cove's brow twitches, but instead of biting back at baxter's tease, he thrusts his hips up sharply, making him gasp. cove takes ahold of baxter's hips, holding him in place as he starts bullying baxter's insides.

"ohh fuck-" baxter pulls on the sheets, taking cove's assault. baxter drops his face into the pillow, his load moaning muffled.

cove leans down to bite on baxter's ear, "don't hide your face, i wanna see you fall apart."

baxter moans, turning his head so he's not half-buried in the pillow and cove rewards him with a kiss. he locks hands with baxter, another reward for taking the assault on his insides so well.

cove kisses his cheeks, muttering praise. "good boy, you're doing so well."

cove reaches between them and starts stroking baxter's cock, swiping his thumb over the leaky head. baxter's legs start to shake and he drags his nails down cove's shoulder.

"i-i'm too sensitive!" baxter pants out weakly, but cove just kisses him.

"i know you can cum again for me, you're a good boy aren't you?" cove sings, kissing baxter's cheeks again as he pants and shakes from cove working his sensitive cock.

"i- i'm gonna!" baxter clings onto cove, his toes curly as he cums weakly all over his stomach.

"that's it~ good boy..." cove praises him, working him through his orgasm.

cove goes to say something else, but his phone lighting up from half way under the pillow alerts him. he snatches it up, realizing it's you texting him that you're on the way home from work and going to pick up some take-out for dinner.

💘Y/N💘: otw home, just going to get some take-out 💘Y/N💘: y'all having fun over there?

cove reads baxter the text, and he looks like he wants to say something but doesn't.

baxter smirks lazily, knowing exactly what he's thinking. "do it."

cove blinks owlishly. "what?" "you wanna take a picture of me covered in my cum and split open on your dick right? take it." baxter squirms, purposefully pushing his hips back so cove's cock bumps against his twitchy insides.

cove pants, swallowing as he fumbles to go to the camera app.

baxter has a lust-drunk smile on his face, and even though he feels a wave of fluster wash over him he doesn't hide his face and lets cove take the picture.

cove sends it with a shaky exhale, throwing the phone to the side and he folds himself over baxter. "you're dirty." baxter smiles, glancing at his lips. "you thought about it first."

they don't say anything else, falling into another hot kiss and cove tries to speak without breaking apart.

"flip- mmm, over. *kiss* i haven't came yet.."

baxter obeys, panting shakily when cove slips out of him so baxter can get comfortable on his stomach, slipping a pillow under his hips.

suddenly his phone starts ringing again and baxter picks it up just as cove slips into him. cove sees the caller id, "answer it."

baxter can hear the coyness in his voice but he answers it anyway, excited to see where this is going.

"h- oh!" baxter shouts, cove suddenly snapping his hips into baxter and filling him up.

you forgo any greetings, and after the picture you received you didn't really need one. "you guys are naughty. i'm trying to get us food and you're at home being a couple sluts."

they both moan at your degrading words, and it just makes you laugh. "look at you, can't even answer the phone without moaning like you're in heat."

baxter pants, fisting the sheets. "i-it's... cove just filled me up so suddenly..."

he tries to refute but its useless.

"i know baby, cove is using you like a cock sleeve?" you sympathize, and baxter tries to appreciate it but now cove is holding his hips up and fucking into him wildly and all he can do is moan loudly into the phone.

"oh but you like it don't you, darling?" you purr.

fuck. baxter didn't know you had a side like this to you. a side so dirty yet so fucking attractive.

"just let cove take care of you until i'm back, but for now i want you to stay on the phone and tell me how cove's fucking you."

baxter moans loudly at that, embarrassed but way too aroused by your wish. "h-he's.. *pant* his cock is, hitting my prostate," baxter's words drag and slur.

you hum, "it feels good, doesn't it, darling? it's been awhile since you've been fucked like that, huh?"

your voice is taunting, but it's full of allure and baxter is swimming in it. god he doesn't know what he's going to do when you're here and he's sandwiched between you two.

"hand the phone to cove baby, i wanna see you get fucked."

baxter shakily hands the phone back to cove, and cove lets go of one of his hips to fumble for the camera app. "hi covey." you purr. "y-y/n.." cove pants, picking up the pace suddenly. something about you on the phone while he's fucking your boyfriend is so... hot.

"take a video for me baby, doesn't have to be long, jus' wanna see you."

cove mumbles a string of yes' and he flips the phone so he can get a better angle of his cock pounding baxter's sweet, poor insides.

baxter loses himself in cove's assault, reaching between him and the pillow to tug on his cock. he whines loudly, cove shifting so he's practically mounting baxter so he can abuse his prostate.

"t-that it.." cove swallows, caressing baxter's hip lovingly. "good boy..."

baxter exhales, soaking up the praise. "cove! please.. cum, want you to cum..."

cove leans over him, positioning the camera blindly as he tries to steal a kiss from baxter.

after getting the phone in a decent spot off to the side, giving you a crooked side view. cove takes baxter's hips between his hands again, urging him to relax by smoothing a hand down his back.

"cove!" baxter shouts, the bed bumping against the wall as cove continues his onslaught.

"just a little more, darling..." cove pants, focusing on the way he pistons in and out of baxter.

collapsing on top of baxter, his forehead against baxter's sweaty back, cove ruts into him with a low groan, filling the condom as baxter cums weakly all over the pillow underneath him.

while they're basking in the aftermath, panting and trying to come back to earth, you laugh, making them startle.

"that's gonna be a video for the year." there's rustling and the sound of a engine starting. "i'm coming home now, so no more fun until i get back."

baxter pants, conjuring up a taunt. "and what if we don't wanna wait?"

"even pretty boys get punished, so wait."

the phone clicks as it hangs up.

baxter inhales sharply when cove slowly pulls out of him, and he looks over his shoulder to watch cove languidly tie off the condom and push his hair away from his face, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

oh yeah, he's not waiting.

[gingerwerk]

happy thursday/friday. heres (perhaps? the first bit i've ever posted on here?) an excerpt from my upcoming hbo war vietnam era/post vietnam au series

i literally laid down on my bed and whipped this up in less than an hour and i fuck with it and im in a giving mood so please enjoy :)

_-_-_-_-_-_

Cradling the cool, hard plastic of the payphone in between his cheek and his shoulder, Eugene pulled a few loose coins from his pants pocket and slipped them into the lot on the machine. It was getting late here but over on the West coast it was just around dinner time and hopefully he could catch him at home. He easily recalled the number and after only two rings, the line clicked.

“Hello?” the familiar, soft voice came through the phone line. 

“Jay, it’s Eugene,” he said, as a faint smile naturally appeared on his face.

“Gene, hey!” Jay responded, voice sounding more excited now that he knew it wasn’t some prank call or a wrong number. “What’s going on?”

What was going on? Eugene couldn’t help but wonder as he glanced around at the brightly lit up truck stop, everything slightly out of focus due to the combination of wear and dirt on the phone booth glass. 

He glanced at the gas station parking lot and still saw Snafu’s rusting blue pickup with the giant chrome Airstream attached. He didn’t seriously think Snafu would leave him in the middle of nowhere but Eugene couldn’t help the small bout of anxiety he got when he went too long without seeing Snafu or his- their -temporary home. All of a sudden he felt like he might as well have been five instead of twenty-five and he just lost sight of his mother at the market in town.  

“So, funny story…” Eugene started slowly, still processing how he would explain the situation he had willingly walked himself into.

“An actually funny story or funny like you need bail money- I assume not for you though, because this call isn’t coming from a police station,” Jay asked easily, tone even like he really wouldn’t have minded either scenario.

“Funny like Snafu showed up at my door Wednesday night,” Eugene stated, deciding to simply bite the bullet. “And I am calling you from a payphone outside Dayton, Ohio because he asked me to go on a road trip to the Grand Canyon and for some crazy reason I said yes. And I figured someone besides Bill and Faye should know so, yeah. That’s what’s going on with me right now.” 

For a long moment all Eugene could hear was the slight crackle of Jay’s breath as he slowly processed the news. While he waited, Eugene glanced over his shoulder again; still no sign of Snafu but the truck was still there. 

“That is a pretty funny situation you’ve got yourself in,” Jay decided after a long moment. “Now, I know you said you agreed to go with him but did you? Is this a willing trip or are you actually kidnapped and you’re calling for help. Cough twice if you’re in danger.”

“Jay,” Eugene sighed exasperatedly. “I’m really okay. I promise.”

“You sure?” his friend asked, the dry, sarcastic tone from before gone now and in its place was something more genuine, more concerned. 

Eugene frowned as he fidgeted with the phone cord for a moment. He had wanted to call Jay for several reasons. Firstly, he and Jay regularly communicated, via letters and occasional phone calls, if they wanted to swing the long-distance fee for something that couldn’t be held up by the U.S. postal service, and Eugene didn’t want to be thought of as rude if a letter went unanswered for longer than usual. He also wanted to let Jay know that Snafu was not only alive but seemingly okay, as he was one of approximately four people who would like to know that information. Lastly, however, Eugene wanted to call Jay because he was the only person alive who knew what the fuck had actually gone on between the two of them while in Vietnam. Perhaps Eugene should have called him back when he was weighing the pros and cons of traveling across the country with the man and none of his friends seemed to understand why he was so hesitant to go along with the man who, to the rest of the world, was just one of his closest war buddies, but that ship had long since sailed. At the very least he could let someone know his situation in case things blew up later and he needed an ally to help pick up his pieces. 

“I’m sure,” Eugene said definitively. “I promise.”

As Eugene picked his head up, he watched as Snafu exited the gas station with a mildly irritated expression on his face and a paper bag in hand. He watched for a long moment as Snafu’s eyes scanned the parking lot before they finally landed on him in the booth. Ignoring how his stomach lurched in a not-totally-uncomfortable way as Snafu put him in his sights, Eugene simply raised his hand to let the man know he saw him before Eugene turned his back to him so he could finish his phone call.

“If you’re sure, Eugene,” Jay decided quietly. “You say you’re gonna see the Canyon?”

“Yeah, finally,” Eugene huffed with a small, sad smile.

“Well, make sure you take some good pictures to send to me,” Jay responded, the slightly stilted tone in his voice let Eugene know Jay remembered what the Grand Canyon really meant to him.

“I will. Faye let me borrow her camera.” 

Faye’s beloved Kodak was currently nestled away in a storage compartment in Snafu’s Airstream. Eugene didn’t want to risk damaging or even losing such a beloved possession on the trip but Faye would not hear of it. She not only wanted pictures of the Grand Canyon but also told Eugene to take as many pictures as he could to remember the trip. 

“Hey, so, I gotta run, Snafu’s looking at me all pissed from across the parking lot and I think he’s beginning to scare off the patrons of the gas station,” Eugene said as he looked over his shoulder and watched for a moment as Snafu lit himself a new cigarette before he began to shuffle back to his truck. 

“Thanks for calling and letting me know,” Jay said. “Feel free to call again when you can or if Snafu wants, you can give him my information. It’d be nice to hear from him.”

“Be careful, he might show up at your door next and ask to go on a trip to Canada.”

“Can’t say I’ve been up north before so I might go if he asked,” Jay said easily. “But I’ll let you go.”

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Gene.”

Hanging the phone back on its cradle, Eugene pushed out of the slightly claustrophobic booth and quickly crossed the parking lot until he reached where Snafu was casually leaning against the side of his truck, his cigarette half smoked as it hung out of the corner of his mouth. Once Snafu’s pale eyes landed on him, he pushed off the side of the truck and climbed back into the cab of his truck.

“Who’d you call?” he grunted as Eugene climbed into the passengers side of the cab.

“Jay,” Eugene answered, deciding to go for the truth.

“De L’Eau?” Snafu asked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he started up the truck and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, the large airstream towed behind them making it a bigger production than usual..

“You know any other Jays?”

“Damn, there anybody from over there who you haven’t kept in touch with?” 

“Yeah, you,” Eugene responded shortly as he continued to stare straight ahead through the windshield. 

Instead responding, Snafu simply flipped on the car radio and let the twangy tones of Creedence Clearwater Revival fill up the space of the cab as they drove down the dark, semi-deserted road in search of somewhere out of the way to park the Airstream for the night.

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 14: Surprises

A/N: Okay, we’re getting back to this story being good…I promise, the fluff is coming! It’s honestly hard to believe that we are now 14 chapters into this phenomenal story. I know it has been a slow start, but I promise we are going to start moving forward from here on out. I mention this in every chapter, but in case you missed it- I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. 

Also: This story is sequential…please go back and read my other chapters, in order, for the best results!

Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter 14: Surprises

BRADLEY’S POV

“Holy shit!” Javy exclaimed with wide eyes, completely taken aback by the story I had just shared with him. The story of Friday night, sparing the excruciatingly romantic details.

Natasha’s eyes left mine to meet Javy’s, looking equally as impressed as him, but not as obvious, “Wait until Frasier hears about this!” she exclaimed, calling out the inevitable–Emmett was going to be filled in. And when he was, all hell would break loose with endless amounts of teasing and bullshit.

“So you lost her number, and then spent the past 24 hours in the hospital waiting for her?” Javy was retelling the story out loud so he could comprehend it better. He was still struggling to process all the developments that had occurred over the weekend.

“Yeah,” I answered. Short and casual.

“Geez” Natasha stated, eyes going wide and letting out a loud gust of air as she adjusted into the seat next to me.

Javy was sitting in front of us today, taking the turn to sit alone. That was our agreement for the seating arrangement since the tables only fit 2 students. We opted to take the front two tables on the right side of the lecture hall. Javy sat at the very front table and Natasha and I were directly behind him. Every time we had lecture, we would rotate. Tomorrow would be my turn to sit in the front. Thank God it wasn’t my turn today! I was dog shit tired!!!

Javy and I adjusted in our seats, as well as the rest of the class. The Naval Academy was very punctual. This class, Flight Training I, started right at 10:45, and if you were a split second late, you would be locked out of the hall. Someone in my Calculus I class was not even 10 seconds late and found himself struggling with the locked doorknob. Another student in class got up to let him in, and was stopped by the Captain that was instructing the course. The student that was late AND the student that tried to help both did 50 pushups on the field of the track after class. The rest of us had to watch at attention, heavily concentrating on our stance, we didn’t dare breathe out of place. No one has ever been late to anything on campus since then.

It was now 10:44 and our flight instructor was nowhere to be found. Everyone in class was looking at each other, waiting for someone to speak up. 

I was about to pull out my phone and check my school email for possible cancellations when a white man, nearly bald, stormed into the room. He had a few strands of white hair resting on the bottom portion of his head. He was wearing the same service khakis as we were. However, his were decked out in ribbons and insignias, whereas we only had 1, the generic service ribbon that we got on the day we took our oath.

“Good morning midshipmen,” He said sternly, obviously not someone that cared about having a ‘polite’ reputation on campus. There was a pause in his voice as he reviewed the roster which was attached to a clipboard on his desk, “and women” he finished, noting the two women that were in our course. I looked over at Natasha, who scooted in her chair, bothered by the lack of respect taken towards her gender.

He dropped the clipboard down onto the desk, leaving a loud echo behind him as he leaned over the steel and into our eyes, “I honestly don’t give a shit about learning your names. Statistically speaking, 2 of you will fail out of the aviation program before you get to the finish line, 3 of you will die in action within the first two years, and another one of you will be a POW in the middle east before you’re 30, which means that only 1 of you will have what it takes to make it to Top Gun before retirement, and even then, nothing is guaranteed”.

A chill ran down my spine as this man spoke his last sentence. He never once made eye contact with me, instead looking in the opposite direction of the room, but it seemed as though he directed that statement unto me. I looked down at my notebook and blue pen, picking it up and twirling it through my fingers. Natasha noticed the change in my demeanor, and learned forward, a look of concern on her face. I didn’t want to explain this to her. Not now. Maybe not ever. So I just shook my head and kept my gaze down. Her gaze went back to the instructor as he finished his statement, “Let the bloodbath begin.”

Javy looked over his shoulder at the two of us, feeling completely uneasy. I could see the fear in my classmates' eyes as the realization that some of us in this room would be dead soon became a hard statistical fact. I continued to spin the pen around as he went on with his introduction, “I am Rear Admiral Thomas Campbell. You will call me Rear Admiral Campbell, not ‘hey you’, ‘teacher’, ‘mister’, or ‘Sir’, do I make myself clear?”

My eyes went completely wide with shock and fear as he announced his full name. Before then, I had completely tuned him out. The pen that was in my hand fell straight onto the paper, leaving a trail of ink as it went flat onto the surface. I could feel Natasha’s eyes on me and in my periphery, I could see that Javy was tense, his head half tilted to us, but still keeping his eyes forward.

“The only exception to my name is to call me by my call sign, “Panther” when we are in the air. During your first year, you will spend a total of 80 hours in our simulation room and 20 hours in the air, flying our cessnas. You have all been grouped based on ability and performance on your pre-assessment taken last week. Three of you will be with me, two of you will be with Justin Fulterski, call-sign “String Bean”, and the last two will be with my daughter, Allie Campbell, call-sign “Baby”. Both of whom are adjunct instructors with their pilots license. They are not active duty soldiers, so you do not salute them”.

The doors opened and Justin, followed by Allie, came into the room, wearing the green flying suits that we will eventually wear in the air. Now Javy was completely turned, looking right at me. Natasha was covered in shock, but trying hard to hold onto her poker face, a face that won a poker tournament this weekend. However, she did steal some glances my way every few seconds. A few other classmates had their eyes glued to me while the remainder were still focused on Admiral Campbell’s speech.

I kept my eyes down, grabbing my aviators and pulling them over my eyes, avoiding all eye contact from the front of the room where Allie was now standing. I used the opportunity I had to steal a glance at her, knowing I was shielded by the dark tint of the glasses so she wouldn’t know I was looking.

Her eyes were right on me, her lips pursed and cheeks slightly pink with a sort of “gotcha” look on her face. She looked away a few seconds later and brought her gaze to her father. Her hair was tightly pulled up into a bun on the back of her head, the standard for women in the military.

Her father…Her father was my flight instructor, and not only that, he was an admiral for my branch of the armed forces! I brought my attention back to him, my head swimming too much to even be able to half-focus, but I tried. “And now for our flight assignments,” Admiral Campbell went on, grabbing a stack of folders. “I will be taking those with the least amount of flight experience, which is Ashton, Stellar, and Heights,” he said as he made eye contact with the two men and the woman who were called, slightly embarrassed at his candid reasoning. “Machado and Trace will go with Bean. Which leaves Ryans and Bradshaw with Baby”.

We both made eye contact with each other as her dad handed her over two files, obviously papers of me and my partner. I took off my aviators and looked at her, hard. I couldn’t decide what to think. On one hand, I was excited that I had her as an instructor, but on the other hand, I felt cheated. We spent almost 2 hours together on Friday and not once did she mention having a pilots license or being an instructor on campus for that matter. She must have seen the torn expression on my face, because when I looked up at her again, she looked quite insecure in her position. She was now avoiding eye contact with me completely.

Rear Admiral Campbell continued his speech, telling us that we would spend our first month in the simulation room before we get into the air. This new flight training program was designed to get Naval Aviators in the air before attending flight school, working with the harder military aircrafts. For the next three years, we would just be focused on the cessna’s and getting as many flight hours in as we could before our next step.

After the Naval Academy, we would all go to Rhode Island for Officer Training School. This was a requirement for anyone entering naval service. So Natasha, Javy, and Emmett would all be going along with me. Once we complete that course, Emmett would be separated from us, and the two others and I would go to Florida for the Air Indoctrination Course. Then there would be flight school, our final step to officially become an aviator for the U.S. Navy. We would either stay in Florida or go to Texas for that. The whole process was going to be long and tedious, but knowing that Allie was going to be one of my instructors for a small part of it, made it a little more fulfilling than it already was. Something a little more special.

I didn’t realize how lost in thought I was until Natasha nudged my shoulder. I quickly blinked and came out of it, seeing that all of my classmates were getting up and heading for the doors of the lecture hall. Natasha looked at me concerned and confused, but I just brushed it off, making my way to the doors. Allie and Justin were still standing in the front of the room, watching us as we left. I looked over my shoulder at her one last time, letting the frustration of this surprise show on my face, shaking my head at her as I went up the steps of the isles. She looked down, with an upset expression now on her face. Justin turned his head to her, but I didn’t catch anything else at that point. I was already out of the room by then.

I followed the crowd of my classmates as they walked down the halls, Natasha standing to my left and Javy to my right.

“What the fuuuuuuck,” Javy whispered.

“Shut up,” I snapped back, keeping my voice down so no one else caught on.

“I just can’t-” Javy went on, finding himself as speechless as Natasha and I already were, “Did you know about this?” He asked, looking over at Trace.

All she did in response was raise her eyebrows and shake her head, not knowing what to say at this moment.

Eventually the crowd we were following went outside and onto the tarmac, watching as upperclassmen were walking around the area, every one of them paired up and getting settled into their T-68 Texan II.

All of us watched in amazement at what was happening. They all had flight suits on, helmets, and a full team of managers helping on the ground.

“Calm down boys!” Admiral Campbell said to us. Natasha let out a loud breath. I looked over at her and saw in her eyes that her blood was boiling, obviously Admiral Campbell was not used to women being in this program. “You won’t be flying these babies until the beginning of your fourth year. Third if you’re lucky,” he went on, looking at me as he said this. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked over at Natasha who just raised her eyebrows a little bit and gave a slight nod, a soft smirk on her face. I never was one to stick out from the pack, so I didn’t really know how to handle this…and I didn’t really want to learn.

“Now ladies and gentlemen,” he started. It was nice to see him finally getting into the inclusion: “Enjoy the show.” He kept his stance tall as he turned around, his hand behind his back, holding his fingers together.

We watched as Justin and Allie emerged from a hanger, both of which were carrying their own helmets. His were various shades of green, with the words “string bean” written in yellow paint. Hers was white with ‘Baby’ painted in light blue cursive along the top.

Both of them quickly got into a Texan, strapping themselves in and communicating with the ground crew. They were signing things to each other, although I had no idea what they were saying. Eventually they stopped signing and the aircraft was turned, the backs now facing us. Admiral Campbell looked over at a grounds crew man that was standing by a radio. Campbell nodded at him and the Black crewman turned on a handheld radio that was sitting on a table.

“Texan 2 ready for taxi.” Justin said over the radio.

“Texan 3 ready for taxi.” Allie’s voice came through the radio.

“Texan 3, begin taxi first, face North,” another voice said. I looked up at the air traffic control tower that was right above us. The windows were completely tinted black with white stone covering the leg of the tower. Natasha and I stole a glance at each other, with a WTF expression on our face as the shock of this morning settled into a reality.

After a few minutes, Allie came on and said she was ready for departure. I looked over at the walkie and heard the same air traffic controller say, “Texan 3, you are clear for departure”.

“Copy, clear for departure.” Allie said. Within seconds, her aircraft roared to life and we watched as her plane sped down the runway and took off towards the Northern sky. Everyone turned their bodies as her jet moved past us, the sound  excruciatingly loud and wind intently smacking onto our bodies. “Holy shit!” a classmate yelled. No one else said anything, instead we watched in amazement as the jet circled around us in the sky.

Eventually, Justin was also up there, and we watched as the aircrafts moved, obviously showing off a well-rehearsed flight show. They spun, and spiraled, and circled each other, ending their show with a “fly by” right over the control tower. Everyone's eyes, including my own, were beaming.

I watched as Allie’s aircraft landed on the runway, coming to a halt and taxing over so Justin could land. Then they drove their aircraft back over to us and sat there as the grounds crew helped them with the proper procedure of getting out of their aircrafts. I glanced down at my watch and noticed that this whole thing lasted over an hour, although it only felt like 15 minutes.

Justin and Allie walked over to us, taking off their helmets and balancing them down on their hips, standing behind Admiral Campbell.

Campbell turned around, facing us now, we weren’t able to see his eyes anymore since they were shielded by his aviators: “I hope you all took something out of that,” he began, “They may not be naval aviators, but they are your flight instructors, and I trust that all of you learn something from them. I can tell you right now, they are without a doubt more skilled than any of you are, even the more experienced ones”. At this, Allie and I looked at each other. She gave a cocky smirk and brought her eyes back to her dad, but I kept my gaze on her. The breeze that was created by the other Texan’s that the fourth years were now flying kept hitting her, causing her hair to slowly come out of its tight bun, strands blowing around in the wind. Her blonde hair was even more prominent now against the green of the flight suit than they were against the deep red of her sweater last Friday. Shit! Her sweater. It was still sitting in the front seat of my new bronco. A car that he gave me as a gift for being admitted into the Naval Academy, which is a hilarious reasoning given the circumstances. I knew that this “gift” was really an unofficial way of him asking me to visit. But honestly, why would I? I had nothing to say to him, and God knows I would NEVER spend another Thanksgiving, Easter, or Christmas with him ever again! Never.

“And now, to the locker rooms,” Admiral Campbell said, “You have a present waiting for you”. He turned his body and began walking towards the doors that we came out of over an hour ago. Shit! I completely missed what he said, being lost in my own thoughts of him. 

I watched as classmates passed me and made their ways to the doors, finding myself frozen. Frozen in a physical and mental sense. Allie passed me as well, which now left me in the back of the pack, watching everyone walk through the door. I used this as my opportunity to talk with her, since more and more witnesses were now indoors, especially her father.

I started walking and increased my pace to a light jog so I could catch up to her, which I did in a matter of seconds: “You could have told me,” I said calmly, but making it clear that my patience was rattled.

She looked over her shoulder at me and decreased her pace, “You never asked,” she said to me, dropping her head and looking at the ground as we made our way closer and closer to the door.

“Don’t pin this on me! I told you that I was in the aviation program here, and you never even thought ‘well hey! Maybe I should tell him that I’m his Goddamn flight instructor’”. 

She froze at this, letting out a big “huff” as her body turned towards mine: “Look,” she said to me, putting on that same calm tone in her voice that she gave me the day I hurt my hand with that ‘rehearsed speech’ of hers, “If I would have known that I was your flight instructor, yes, I probably would have said something. But I didn’t know anything until this morning, and besides, it’s not like I could have given you a warning this morning in King Hall because you weren’t there. Instead, you were sitting around in the hospital, waiting for me”.

“How did you-” I started to ask, then froze as I assumed the answer to my own question, “You nurses really hear everything don’t you?”

She gave me a ‘no shit’ look and then turned her body, aiming towards the door, but I was able to grab onto her arm before she could move an inch. “Why didn’t you at least tell me about your dad?” I asked, still keeping a calmed tone in my voice. I have learned that the best way to get anywhere with her is if you kept your composure as best you could. 

Whenever I got mad or frustrated, she would too. She always matched my energy, and I could tell that this hypothesis was correct because she immediately lost a bunch of tension in her body, relaxing a little as she looked down at my hand that was wrapped around her bicep. Her mouth was slightly open, and her breath increased a little. She looked at me with a gentle look in her eyes as she continued to breathe. She closed her mouth, and I noticed her eyes became a little hard, “Well,” she began, in her all too familiar sassy tone: “I would have had time to get to that, but I was underwater”. She shook off my arm and made her way to the door. Damn. Right when I thought I had her figured out.

[tytothegnoll]

It was just a normal trip to IKEA. Well, it was supposed to be at least, until you got lost.

Again…

It wasn’t your fault that the store always was an indecipherable maze of furniture and shelving. Didn't help that the Swedish names of everything only confused you further. Whoever made these stores and their labyrinthine layouts seemed to want it to be as hard to leave as possible.

Surely you must be at the edge of the store by now. How long has it been? A few hours at least and your phone seems to be almost dead, only fueling your anxieties. Why didn't you just order the stupid shelf online? You know that this always happens and you get stupidly anxious when you get lost.

Just then you see a brief bit of yellow and blue move behind a tall bookcase. With a sigh of relief, you follow after those colors as they mean only one thing, they are an employee. They can be your guide through the never-ending halls of cheap furniture. They can be your salvation to be home at a reasonable time and have a decent supper that isn’t just from a drive-through.

That was until you noticed that this employee was unusually tall. That they were very muscular. And wait, were those horns on their head?

The anxiety you previously had returned with a vengeance as you slowly tried to back up. You then hear a solid thud as you back into a bookcase causing the strange figure to turn around to reveal its bovine face.

What you could only describe as a minotaur then asks in a surprisingly gentle voice, “Could I help you? You seem lost. Also, um… Don’t worry, I’m just an employee.”

It’s hard to not be speechless. Maybe you were getting a little dehydrated? Maybe you just had some bad meatballs? Surely this wasn’t happening, right? This had to just be some sort of hallucination…

“Yes, I am real and also an Ikea employee. I am not going harm, kill, and/or eat you. I just work here,” the figure sighs as if reading from a script, “Also, no, I am very real.”

All you can manage is a small squeak. What the hell was going on? Was this the backrooms? Was this that one Ikea that was also an SCP?

A giant hand on your shoulder snapped you back to reality. Yes this minotaur… thing, was real. Judging by how gently its hand rested on your shoulder it also seemed like it wasn’t going to harm you. But how did the store find and hire a fricking mythical creature?

The figure seemed to be relieved that you were calming down, “Thank god, thought you were having a panic attack there.”

He wasn’t wrong it definitely felt like you were almost we're having one from the sheer absurdity of the situation but you were calmer now. You could finally feel like you could talk now, “So… you’re a minotaur, right? How did you get hired by Ikea?”

“Long story, but basically I just showed up one day and they hired me. Even gave me a uniform in my size. They just seem to have protocol for it,” the minotaur answered.

It sounded like there was a lot more to it but maybe those were questions for another time.

“Anyway, are you looking for anything specific?” the minotaur’s customer service voice returned in full swing, “I know where to find practically everything here.”

“Just some shelves. The… Uh…” You pull out your dying phone to find the specific model on the site to save you the embarrassment of butchering the Swedish name, “This one.”

“Oh, that one. Just follow me,” they motion for you to follow as they start to walk off.

You have to almost jog to keep up with his long strides. But as you are walking by you seem to notice a strange booklet of some kind. It almost seemed like a boring manual until you noticed the word minotaur and what looked like a bull-headed humanoid on the cover. Without a second thought, you slip it into your inner coat pocket, not like they will miss it and maybe it will give you some answers.

“Uh, everything okay?” the minotaur asked, stopping to make sure that you didn’t get lost yet again.

Quickly you run back up to him and give a partial lie, “Just saw something that caught my eye.”

“Oh, I see. Well, we can always come back and let you pick it up if you want it,” he replied, with a soft smile that almost seemed genuine.

You both continue one through the winding displays at a decent pace when you finally decide to ask a few questions, “So, what exactly is your job if you are an employee?”

“Mostly just what I am doing now; helping guide lost customers,” his low voice sounded somewhat cheery, “And nighttime security.”

“God when do you even get to sleep?” you wonder, “Heck do you live here?”

They replied, “I have an office that is also my room. I am a light sleeper and also do a few rounds at night.”

That had you curious, especially with the manual that you now carried in your coat pocket. But before you could ask anymore questions the minotaur stopped.

“Here is the ekenabben unit you were looking for,” he says, extending an open hand to the wooden shelves.

It was what you wanted so you took one to take home, but your mind was racing with curious thoughts. Why was there a manual on minotaurs? How and why did this minotaur just appear here in the store?

“Would you like me show you to the registers?” he asked, giving you a slightly concerned look.

It seemed that you have been just standing there silently for a few moments with whatever the name for the shelf was. Quietly you look up and answer, “Yes, please.”

Quickly he leads you to the register which are near the entrance to the store. You stand with your mind buzzing curiously for a few more moments before turning back to thank him only for him to not be there. It was hard to not grow even more curious about the strange figure. Was he even real? Walking up to the register you pay and begin to walk to your car.

You pause just as you get out to the car and think about him. Maybe you should come back and try talking to him again. Maybe you should read the manual and try to find some answers.

It was once common knowledge that any sufficiently labyrinthine structure will eventually manifest a Minotaur at its heart. Today, your local IKEA opened its newest extension.

[anchorandrope]

Hi I'm Brazilian and I saw your post about us joining and thank you 🫶🏻 I joined yesterday and I'm really lost. Could you recommend me blogs? hld exists here? Are any other updates accounts? other Brazilian larries or whatever, please I need people to follow I'm desperate 😭

hi bby!! welcome to this multiverse of madness, you will be gay here.

UAs: hldailyupdate, dailytomlinson, stylesnews - stylesarchive, hlupdate are inactive now, check them for archive purposes!

Fashion archives: fashionlouist - harryfashionarchive and louisfashionarchive are inactive now as well

Fics: this answer contains a lot

For creators: hljournal, hlcreators, hltracks

Pics & edits: tomlinsonedits, styles-edits - ltpics and hspics are also inactive rn

Gifs: stylinsongifs, lwt-gifs, hes-gifs, also inactive rn - but here are some fan blogs that make amazing gifs (remember to support their work by reblogging and not only liking! likes don't help to boost content here):

@2tiedships2 melanie is historically our gif maker, she has been doing lords work for a damn long time here, i think we all collectively thank her for her service 🫡

@bilouistomlinson logan changes his url a lot but his our purple buddy here so you will always recognise them by their icon 💜 he absolutely adores louis so if you wanna stand by your screen seeing gifs of louis being hot: their blog is a must on your list!

@delicatepointofview ingrid makes gifs with incredible quality, i sometimes find out louis appeared because i see one of her gif set before an UA, really. we appreciate the hard work 🩷

@miss-styles i think lei is not currently making gifs but her work is awesome and if you like harry you can spend ours on her tag 🕺🏻

@creulsummer lorna has plenty of gifs of different stuff, i adore her fall vibes 🍂 her aesthetic is always pleasant to see

okay now, (more) blog recommendations!! even though i may not talk to everyone here, i do love seeing them on my dash so here is a list of larries on my phone: @thechavier @robinniko @kiwikiwiandkiwi @quickpauseinconversations @larryisinlove @28cum @louisarmpits @zouisexo @wdbhgdotmp3 @louisgrayhairs @tommos @louispalooza @daisiesonafield-blog @skepticalarrie @killmymind @nunchailou @braverytattoos @thebirdtatts @handgf @fishandfrog @whatifai @itsnotreal @ishipmutualrespect @stylinsuns @harrylouis @whenyouvequitefinished @sunkissedlouis @farawaytattoo @hs1 @allmylouv @yourgoldenview @thewhitecitrus @bluewinnerangel - im sure im forgetting a lot of people, so in advance im extremely sorry my beloved moots. also feel free to tag your fave blogs in the comments or rb and i'll rb again so new accs can follow them <3

we are all kinda messy and gay, we also tend to vote for "nuanced answer/im bald/secret third option" in every poll so if you don't like that maybe consider moving to threads. its like twitter (instagram's version). the app looks like a social experiment and if the news are late to twitter, i can't imagine how late they are there so good luck

also, i cannot end this blog rec with our bestie <3 shout out to lthqofficial who made a blog here, checked us out for 3 days and left. they were like: nope! bye!! 👋🏻

anyway hope this has helped ❤️‍🩹

[oomisluvr]

wash day (at night); a drabble

synopsis: there's a warm intimacy that comes with doing your hair. tooth-rotting fluff; watch out for cavities. reader is written to be a person of color.

"my ancestors are screaming right now." products are open everywhere; brushes and combs line the sink.

"huh?"

"the hair braiding gene literally skipped me. that's a hate crime in itself." you sigh in frustration, dropping your arms from the top of your head. you sadly smile, taking in your appearance. cornrows are so hard, you think.

perched on the toilet seat if your boyfriend, curiously watching you. the hour was late, but kiyoomi doesn't like falling asleep in an empty bed. not anymore. so there he sits, scrolling on his phone aimlessly while you fight against your hair.

he had offered to help, but you insisted that this was something you had to do on your own. up until this point, you did do everything by yourself. washing, deep conditioning, detangling, blow drying, and parting. everything has gone smoothly until now: the cornrows themselves.

"are you sure you don't want any help?" kiyoomi asks, afraid to set you off. he knows you're frustrated, but he also knows you won't ask for help. it's annoying sometimes, but he knows your stubbornness isn't rooted in malice or superiority.

that's just how you are.

"nah, i got it."

he pulls his lips into a light line. you always 'got it'. he wishes you would just let him help you sometimes. as your boyfriend, it's literally his job to look after you. he sighs. the world has groomed you to think that you're alone, that the only person who will take care of you is yourself.

you couldn't be more wrong.

he does't know how to tell you, but he hopes you see through his acts of service to find that they are inspired by love. he knows you won't ask for his help, but he's always willing to give himself for you. he'd gift you the world, if he could.

he stands and yawns, approaching you sleepily. what had he been doing on his phone the entire time?

watching tutorials, of course.

"hold your hair on this side and tilt your head a little bit," he instructs, taking gel with two finger and slapping it on the back of his hand like the woman from youtube. you chuckle at his antics, complying. using the comb, he parts three small sections and starts the braid.

it takes him a good while to finish it completely, and there are some bubbles from where he lost his grip on your hair, but it's definitely better than what you could have done. it's honestly kinda good.

"ah, it's kinda fucked up. let me try again."

"no, keep it. thank you, oomi."

he kisses you cheek in acknowledgment. he feels a blush spreading on his face at your gentle praise.

that's what i'm here for, he thinks, i just want to help, in any way i can.

he doesn't say that, though, because its cheesy and he knows you'll poke fun. your eyes flare up, as if you can hear his thoughts.

it's late. it's quiet. you're both tired. kiyoomi moves on to the next section. in the dim, artificial light of the bathroom, you feel his love. he weaves across you scalp; it follows you everywhere you go. you couldn't escape it, even if you tried. it's a part of you; he's a part of you.

kiyoomi's love is a quiet sort of love, but it's the strongest kind there is.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Rainy Day Rescuer

Feyre Archeron x Rhysand - OneShot

Feyre gets locked out in the rain and fears she'll have to tough out the storm. That is, until a kind stranger opens his window.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2130 words

*******

Feyre’s favorite thing about her apartment building wasn't the location or the free parking—although she did love that—it was the rooftop.

She’d lived in the building almost a month before realizing she could access the roof. The padlock on the door was apparently for appearances only, and it easily came off when she pulled on it. She figured out how to rest it back on the door so that when she was out on the roof the door still looked locked to anyone who didn't know better.

So far, she hadn't run into any of her neighbors trying to share the spot, but she knew someone else used it. Normally, she came up here to paint or to think and look at the stars. The view from the roof was lovely; she could see the city center and all the lit-up buildings, and the Sidra river that flowed through it.

The first time she set up her easel, one of her paintbrushes rolled away, and when she tracked it down behind an old broken crate she found a book had been carefully tucked away behind it.

Feyre couldn't help it when she picked up the book to get a better look at it. She glanced around quickly before chiding herself, knowing that no one else was out there with her. She recognized it as some sort of mythology retelling. Feyre flipped through it, trying to find some name or any indication of who it belonged to. All she found was an old receipt from a clothing store being used as a bookmark.

Spotting her runaway paintbrush, she grabbed it and put the book back where she found it.

That wasn't the last time she saw that book, and it certainly wasn't the last time she lost one of her paintbrushes.

In the next few weeks, every time Feyre went out to the roof she looked for the book.

It was always in that same place, hidden away so it wouldn't be noticed. But every time she opened the book the bookmark was moved a little further along.

She also started noticing annotations written in the margins. Feyre tried to imagine what this person must be like. It was odd, but kind of fascinating to follow along with this person’s progress.

She tried to focus on the fascinating part, and not the part that made her feel a bit like a creep for peeping into this person’s thoughts.

Except, when she made her routine book check that night, it was gone.

Feyre tried not to feel too disappointed. Why was she so invested in another person’s book? But it had become a constant that she looked forward to, and now it was gone. She could only hope they would start another one.

She laid out a thin blanket and sat down to look at the stars.

She must have dozed off at some point because she was woken up by raindrops hitting her face. It wasn't heavy yet, but she could tell it was going to start soon.

Ignoring the drizzle, she glanced at her phone. Feyre groaned and sat up, rubbing her face.

“Ugh, okay Fey, let’s call it a night.” She mumbled to herself, sleepy and moving slowly. She packed the blanket in her large tote bag and went to go back inside. Pulling on the door, she stumbled back a step. She was too tired, her grip was already slipping.

Feyre adjusted the bag on her shoulder and pulled the door again.

It didn't move.

She gripped the handle with both hands and pulled, hard.

Nothing happened.

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Feyre was wide awake now. This couldn't be happening. Shit.

She threw her bag down and used all her strength to open the door she ultimately knew wouldn't budge.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stepped back from the door.

“Shit.”

The rain was beginning to pick up.

“Really?!”

Lunging for her bag, Feyre dug around until she felt her phone. Gripping it, she unlocked it and was about to find someone to call for help...but she had no service.

How could she not have any service? Oh, gods, she was going to be stuck out on the roof, in the rain, until someone decided to come out there. It could be who-knows-how-long until that happened.

Spinning around, Feyre caught sight of her salvation.

“The fire escape!” Beaming, she grabbed her bag and ran over to it. “You beautiful, fantastic fire escape, help me out.”

Feyre managed to climb down the four stories of stairs and ladders without slipping on the slick metal. Gods, wouldn't that be a sight? She’d slip and come tumbling down the rest of the way, providing free entertainment to whoever walked past the building’s back alley.

When she finally made it to the lowest landing she tried to lower the final ladder that would bring her to the ground.

Only, it wouldn't move.

“Come on,” she muttered, still trying to force it down, “Don’t do this to me. I’m so close!” Feyre looked down to see the drop. Cringing, she admitted it was farther than she trusted herself to jump without breaking something—most likely her.

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. Feyre pressed herself against the building as the rain finally poured down.

“Seriously?!” She shouted up into the apparent waterfall above her head.

A knock from behind her startled her enough that she jumped around and let out a loud shriek.

“Um, are you okay?”

A voice came from a window set into the wall that she hadn't noticed before with a man’s face pressed up against it. Through the rain streaming down the glass, she couldn't tell if he looked more concerned or wary at her appearance.

It took her a second to respond.

“No.” She tried to shake the wet hair out of her face. “I’m not.”

“Are you trying to go up or down?”

Ah. He was probably worried she was just some random person who decided to hop up onto his balcony landing.

“Down.” She said, trying not to think of how bizarre it must be for him to look out and see a woman stuck outside his window, sopping wet.

This really wasn't how she wanted to make first impressions with her neighbors.

“I got locked out on the roof and tried to get down the fire escape, but,” she gestured to herself and the now downpouring rain that was making this conversation difficult, “it didn't really work.”

She hoped he would offer before she had to ask the insane request.

Thankfully he did.

His eyebrows shot up and he seemed to finally notice how bad the rain was. Hastily opening the window, he gestured for her to come in.

“Come in, it looks awful out there.”

Before she could think better of accepting the stranger's invitation to literally climb into their apartment, she picked up her soaking bag from the grate at her feet and crawled over the windowsill, quickly closing the window behind her to block the storm.

Maneuvering to a standing position, Feyre took a moment to take a breath and thank whoever was listening for her unexpected savior.

She turned to face him. He was tall, she would have to crane her neck up if stood much closer. And he had vibrant violet eyes that the artist in her wanted to study.

“Hang on a second.” He left her standing in his living room. Feyre looked around at the sofa and tv that took up most of the space, the bookshelf propped against one wall, and pictures of friends on the wall.

The man came back in with a towel in hand.

“Here, try this.” He handed it to her politely.

“Thanks.” She quickly wrapped it around herself, trying to dry off and stop shivering.

“No problem.” He looked like he was going to ask her something when something on the bookshelf caught her eye.

“It was your book?” She gasped, pulling the familiar volume from the shelf. Feyre whirled around to face the dark-haired man who was looking at her warily. “You’re the one who’s been using the roof!”

He stepped closer to her and gently took the book from her hands, casually flipping through it. Flicking his eyes up at her, he asked, “How did you know about my book?”

Feyre could feel her cheeks heating and she could've sworn a smirk made its way across his face.

“I, uh, found it one day.”

“You found it?” he asked skeptically. “I hid it behind some old box, how did you find it?”

At least he just looked curious, and mildly amused, and not disturbed at her snooping. Yeah, maybe it was tucked away, but anyone who tried for more than a minute could’ve found it, so she didn't feel as bad.

Drawing as much pride as she could muster when she was dripping water onto this man’s carpet, she huffed, “It was a crate, not a box.” He grinned and she went on, “and for your information, I dropped a paintbrush and it rolled over there. I found the book when I was chasing my brush. I don't actively seek out other people’s things to snoop.”

His grin widened as she explained and by the end, he was chuckling.

“And here I thought you just really wanted to get to know my reading tastes.”

She scoffed, but hid a grin, “Yeah, sure. I don't even know you.”

As she said it, she realized it was true.

Besides the fact that he lived in her building and was kind enough to let her in from the rain, she had no idea who this man was.

It seemed he remembered the same thing as he gave her a charming smile and held out his hand.

“You can call me Rhys.”

“Rhys?” She raised a brow. She’d never met anyone named Rhys before.

“My full name is Rhysand, but,” he paused to wink at her, “the people I like call me Rhys.”

Feyre rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting but met his hand with her own.

“Feyre. Just Feyre.” She held his gaze for a few more minutes before they both dropped their hands.

“Well, Just Feyre, I think I have something for you.”

Before she could respond, he vanished into the other room. He had something for her? What? Was this some other lame attempt at flirting?

She’d let him flirt if he wanted to, maybe she was a little interested to see what he’d try.

But he came back out to stand in front of her with one hand behind his back.

“Yes?” She tried to peek around him, but he angled his body away so she couldn't see what he was holding.

Leaning in close to her, Rhys said, “I believe that is yours.” With a flourish, he brought his hand in front of him.

“My paintbrush!” Feyre couldn't believe it. She looked back and forth between the brush and the man holding it, “I’ve been looking for this one. I lost it weeks ago! How do you have it?”

Rhys smiled broadly at her as she took it from his outstretched hand.

“I found it near the back corner one night, it must have just rolled away from you. It looked like it could blend right into the wall.”

Ceasing her inspection of the brush, shocked that she had found it—that Rhys had had it—she looked at him and beamed.

He blinked, almost dazedly, as he watched her smile.

“Thank you!”

Without thinking, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Rhys tensed, and at that moment Feyre remembered that she was still soaking wet from the rain. Wincing, she hastily pulled away before he had a chance to return her hug.

“Sorry. I got excited.” She glanced down to see the small puddle on the floor beneath her and cringed. “I should probably go.”

“Hm? Oh.” Rhys cleared his throat and nodded, “Right. You probably want to change into something dry.”

“Yeah.” They both stood there awkwardly staring at each other, not sure what to say next.

“Okay,” Feyre picked up her bag and took a step towards the door. “I’m just gonna...” She trailed off as she and Rhys pivoted around each other so that she was closer to the door.

He walked with her the last few steps, pausing when she opened the door and turned back to him.

“Thank you, Rhys. For the paintbrush, and for not making me stand outside like a drowned cat all night.”

His laugh made Feyre crack a smile.

“Anytime Feyre, darling.”

She smiled.

“Goodnight Rhys.”

He mirrored her smile.

“Goodnight Feyre.”

Maybe getting locked out wasn’t so bad, after all.

***

Taglist:

@allthebooksunderthemoon

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@becarefuloflove

@bisexual-genderfluid-fan

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@tomtenadia

@westofmoon

@whimsicallyreading

[i-cant-sing]

Please yandere v! All might or aizawa as a spooky Christmas ghost?

Christmas Nightmare: Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa

Hey there! Thank you so much for requesting! I had fun writing this. Hope you guys like it! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa:

It was 2 days before Christmas. You were on your way home from Home Depot. You had gotten your Christmas tree and decorations. And since you decided to buy it so late, you had to drive out of city to get the tree as those in the city were all sold out. But hey, at least you got a good deal!

Since it was a long drive back home, you had decided to do your grocery shopping too. As you were driving, munching on some chips, you noticed it had started snowing. The snow was covering the trees that were on either side of the road. It was getting dark, and only the lights from your car were illuminating the road.

Of course your old car had to break down. And that too in the middle of nowhere, where there was no cell service either. And you don't remember seeing any cars on your way either. As you were trying to get a signal, you almost didn't see the wooden cabin that was a bit hidden by the trees.

Now you've watched tons of horror movies to know that you should not go there. But it was getting cold, and now you could either die by hypothermia, or you could go there and hope that there is not a serial killer inside.

You chose the latter option. You went to the cabin and knocked a few times. When no one answered, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. In the dark, your hands looked for a light switch. When you found one and switched it on, you looked around the cabin. You appeared to be standing in the living room, there was little furniture, dust had accumulated everywhere. You found the fireplace and fortunately there was still some wooden logs and a matchbox there. You lit the fireplace up and decided to look around. You were surprised to see that the cabin was actually quite big. And it looked like it used to be inhabited by a family; you found some furniture, a few toys and some other stuff. It looked like that the cabin had been abandoned for a quite some time. You looked in the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat, but you found nothing. It was a good idea that you had some snacks to get you to get you by.

You went back to the living room, sitting near the fire. As you were warming up, you looked out the window. It was snowing heavily now. You took your phone out and to your surprise you found a single service bar. You called for help, but the signal kept breaking up, and they managed to tell you that they wouldn't be able to get there as it was snowing too hard; the roads were blocked. Plus, it was Christmas time, nobody is going to want to help you now anyways. You hoped that help or anyone would drive by in the morning.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you heard the sound of someone walking. Heavy footsteps. There's someone inside the cabin.

You sat frozen, waiting for the serial killer to come. However, a few more minutes passed, but no one appeared. Curious, you decided to see who was there. You hoped it would be an animal. But after you had searched the entire cabin, you found no one. Neither an animal, nor a person.

Hm, maybe its a ghost. You thought to yourself. But I should've been able to see one due to my quirk.

Your quirk: Dead Eye, helped you see the dead. You had seen a lot of ghosts, most of them were harmless, and the bad ones usually just wanted to be left alone. That's why you weren't scared of ghosts anymore. People are far scarier really.

Maybe this ghost was just passing by. Or maybe your mind's just playing tricks on you. You were getting tired, so you decided to sleep on the old couch near the fireplace. The warmth lulled you to sleep, not knowing that someone was watching you.

When you woke up the next morning, the fire was almost dying out. You checked your phone a signal, call, message, anything. You looked outside the window, there was snow everywhere. You couldn't even see the road. It didn't look like you were getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. No one is gonna come on Christmas to help you. Which meant you were going to spend Christmas here in the cabin, alone.

Deciding to make the best out of your situation, you got the tree and the decorations out of your car. After you had brought the tree inside, you went to look for some cleaning supplies and cleaned the place up a bit. Once you had done that, you decorated the tree up. You kept on checking if someone was driving by or if you got some service, but you unfortunately didn't. As you were making yourself some dinner, you heard footsteps again. You also heard a door open and shut. And you felt someone creeping up on you. You whipped around and you finally saw the culprit.

"Do you need something?" you asked the pale man with red eyes and black hair. He looked a bit surprised hearing your question. "Well?" you pushed, your own heart pounding. "You can see me?"he asked, confused. "Oh you're a ghost! Yeah, I can see the dead due to my quirk." The man was even more surprised as you introduced yourself to him, not scared at all. "I'm...Aizawa. What are you doing here?" You explained your situation to him, and how you'll be out of his hair the day after Christmas hopefully. You both apologised and thanked him for letting you into his home.

The more you talked the more Aizawa felt happy? It had been so long since he had any sort of conversation, even though it was mostly you talking. It had been too long since he felt happy.

Aizawa apologised too for trying to scare you. He just wanted to be alone, no meddling humans to disturb him from his sleep.

You both kept on talking, you telling some stories and just rambling on, Aizawa just humming and sometimes gave a small smile. You're so adorable. So nice. And warm too.

He loved how you cleaned up his place and decorated the tree. He remembered the good times back when he was alive. And even though he was a villian, he still remembers the cozy days of Christmas he used to spend with his family. Family. The family the betrayed him. The same family he used to do break the law for. The same family that went to the cops to tell on him when they found out what he had been doing to provide for them.

Of course he killed them. He did not regret it one bit. What he did regret though was killing himself after that, thinking that he'd never be able to find love again. When in reality, he was looking right at it. You. Its you. You'll be his love again.

When you woke up on Christmas morning, you went to check your phone but you couldn't find it. You were sure you had it on you. As you were looking around, Aizawa came and wished you a Merry Christmas. You smiled and wished him as well.

Aizawa had brought you some eggs from a nearby bird's nest. You didn't want be rude, so you made them and had your breakfast. You made some small talk, telling him about the world, how advance it has become. But he was really just interested in your life. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? How many people know that you're here?

His questions were weird. But you thought that he's just an old ghost, and also has no company; he's just bored.

You were still talking when you heard the sound of a car. You whipped your head to the window and saw a car slowly driving by. Finally. You thought. I'm getting out of here now.

As you went towards the door, hoping that the driver will see you and help you, you suddenly felt something hit your head before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in of the bedrooms. Few rays of the moonlight were escaping the boarded window, indicating it was night time. What happened? As events of the morning came rushing back to you, you realised you were in grave danger. You tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge even though there was no lock.

Suddenly, you were thrown to the bed, the mattress squeaking under you. Aizawa stood at the foot of the bed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. You tried to get of the bed, but it was like something was holding you down. You looked at him bewildered.

Aizawa started to explain "I've become attached to you. No. I've fallen in love with you. I know you're not in love with me right now but you will be." He walked towards you "you don't need to worry. I'll figure out a way for us to be together when I kill you. Then we can live here happily ever after." He stroked your hair. You went to kick him but he caught your leg in a tight, painful grip. He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "Now, now. Don't do something you'll regret. You don't wanna be on the naughty list now, do you?"

Hope you guys liked this one! Requests are still open! :)

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Leaving Traces Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 留痕之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 28 April 2021 ]

MC (phone call): I found your study room. May I invite CEO Victor to state his next instruction!

Victor (phone call): There’s a black file on the third shelf of the bookcase, closer to the right side. Do you see it?

MC: Third shelf... to the right... I see it!

Victor: Mm, open and check it for me.

I tap on the hands-free function, place the phone on the table, then carefully retrieve the file.

Today is the sixth day that Victor is on a business trip, and he gave me a call asking me to help him find a document.

Even though this is for an “official purpose”, being in this room filled with a familiar scent and hearing his voice feels pretty wonderful.

Flipping open the file, what enters my vision is the cover page of a contract.

MC: Is there an investment contract for a public educational welfare program inside?

Victor: That’s right.

When I see the date stamped at the bottom, my lips involuntary curl upwards.

MC: The public welfare program you invested in last year is going to have a charity gala in a few days... Someone keeps claiming that he isn’t a philanthropist, yet does quite a number of things in secret which reap zero returns.

Victor: Actually, it doesn’t count as zero returns. This program offers public welfare courses and training in universities. Each year, there are graduates who choose to work in LFG. The value they create is a form of return.

MC: Do all investors like such long-term strategies? Snatching up investments quickly, but only obtaining benefits after a very long time.

Victor: It’s also possible that there wouldn’t be any benefits. Since risks can’t be avoided, why not shoulder the greatest risk, and find that biggest “fish”.

MC: ...that’s what someone strong and capable would say.

I turn around, storing the file into my bag. Catching sight of Victor’s spectacles on the table, I pick them up, holding them in front of my eyes.

After adjusting to the slight dizziness from the spectacle degrees, I hold the spectacles and scan the surroundings.

MC: Victor, I’ve always been curious. Does the world you look at differ from other people?

Victor: How do you think it’d be different?

MC: For example... can you see the shape of time?

My imagination roams uncontrollably. If I could see time, and even adjust its speed, I might become the second Victor...

However, a sigh at my ear very quickly interrupts my daydream.

Victor: Even if I could see it, it wouldn’t be the way you imagine it.

MC: ...

Victor: If I remember correctly, a certain someone still has the job of broadcasting LFG’s charity gala. If you want to do a proper job, don’t place your hopes on shortcuts.

Hearing his cool voice, I purse my lips.

MC: You’re putting emphasis on efficiency again. You’re really skilful in managing your time... In that case, could I look forward to you returning early? With CEO Victor supervising me personally, my mentality at work will be even better.

Victor: I find that you always have a hundred reasons for not doing honest work.

MC: That wasn’t my main point...

Perhaps hearing my grumbling clearly, Victor laughs.

Victor: But you can look forward to it. Do what you have to do properly, and wait for me to return.

-

The next day, I send the document Victor needs to the office. After that, I take a taxi over to conduct a pre-interview.

Aside from preparing for the charity gala, I’m also doing a documentary with the theme of “Craftsmen of Time”. It records people who are able to maintain their craft despite having a fast-paced life.

Today, I’m visiting a boutique for custom-made suits which has been in business for several decades. It’s hidden in a small alley in the downtown area, and it’s as though time has stopped at a corner.

The boss shows me around the store while giving me introductions. After making one round, he lifts his head to look at his watch, then turns to me apologetically.

MC: Miss MC, I’m sorry about this, but a customer has made an appointment for a fitting, and will be here soon. We do a one-on-one service here. If the customer is unwilling, you might have to step back for a while.

Just as I’m able to wave my hands to express my understanding, the sound of the door being pushed open drifts from not too far off.

What follows is a familiar voice -

?: She doesn’t need to leave.

I turn my head. As expected, I see Victor walking in.

Boss: Mr Victor.

MC: Victor!

The boss and I speak in unison, then stop at the same time.

Seeing the slightly shocked expressions on both of their faces, I’m a little embarrassed as I scratch my cheek.

MC: Ooh... erm. Welcome.

Victor: Mm, thank you.

A few employees behind chuckle softly. However, Victor is unaffected, and he walks over to look at the notebook in my hand.

Victor: You’re working?

MC: Mm, I'm here for an interview. What are you doing here?

Victor: Didn’t you hear it earlier? I have an appointment at this timing. I’ll be interrupting you for a while, but it won’t take too long.

I shake my head to show that I don’t mind. Only then does Victor turn his head towards the boss.

Victor: Today’s the fitting, isn’t it.

Boss: That’s right. The clothes have already been hung in the changing room for you.

Victor: You’ve worked hard.

Victor walks into the changing room. I hold onto his outer coat while sitting on a chair at the side, waiting. Once again, I look around at the suits displayed in the shop.

Before, I used to tacitly agree that formalwear were more or less the same. Today, I realised that there are many differences when it comes to the details.

They can also be custom-made according to various settings and personal preferences, to become a form of personalised “fashion”.

Not following the crowd and not being set in stone is indeed very appropriate for Victor’s style.

After a moment, Victor pulls open the door and walks out. The boss immediately steps forward to check the measurements.

I stare directly at Victor in the mirror.

Even though the suit isn’t finished, the superior quality and lines have already made the person before me appear even taller and more capable.

It’s just that...

Boss: It’s been a long time since I last saw Mr Victor. It seems you’ve become much thinner recently. The suit will be done in a few days. To be safe, we’ll take your measurements again today.

Victor: I’ll have to trouble you then.

I flip the notebook open as a guise, but my gaze never leaves Victor.

The employee measures his neck. Victor lifts his head, and I realise that his lower chin has become thinner. When he’s expressionless, he looks even more solemn.

The measuring tape extends and retracts on his body, leaving light wrinkles on his already-fitting vest.

Ever since we met, it seems like his appearance in my mind has never changed.

A serious expression, wearing a well-fitting suit, always with people clustering around him... just like the sight before me right now.

However, in contrast to the usual, the Victor of this moment is a little different.

What the boss said is correct. He has indeed lost weight. But only a week passed - how could there be such an obvious change?

I recall how he looked before he left on the business trip. For a moment, I find that he was different from the way he is now. In the next moment, I find that he was the same as the way he is now.

I finally realise that before this, I never even noticed that he had grown thinner...

Wanting to look at him more carefully, I narrow my eyes, only to suddenly meet Victor’s gaze.

Victor: Looks like you learnt quite a lot today.

MC: What? 

Victor: Are these numbers needed for work?

Following his gaze, I look at the book in my hand, and realise that I had subconsciously recorded down many numbers.

These numbers seem to be the measurements taken by the employee...

MC: T-this is just an accident!

Seeing that the employee has finished taking measurements, I hurriedly shut the book, stuffing it into my bag.

Boss: We’ll make some adjustments, and will contact you in a few days to collect the finished suit.

Victor: Thank you for the hard work.

After saying this, Victor walks over to me. Pretending to be professional, I shake and open his outer coat, helping him put it on.

MC: Is the new outfit for the charity gala?

Victor: Yes.

MC: When the time comes, I’ll remind the director to do more dashing close-ups of CEO Victor!

Victor: You’re still so proud despite using your professional capacity for personal gain.

Victor casts me a sidelong glance. Since I have nothing to fear, I give him a smile.

MC: Oh yes, why didn’t you tell me that you returned early?

Victor: Didn’t I promise you over the phone last night?

MC: But it’s still too quick... Did you board the plane right after hanging up?

Victor: It just shows that the timing was just right.

As he mentions this casually while fastening his buttons, I can’t help but ask him a question that I should have asked from the start.

MC: So was this chance encounter also a coincidence that was “just right”?

Victor: This wasn’t a chance encounter. You shared your location with me in the taxi earlier. You don’t remember?

MC: Ah, my fingers must have slipped...

Victor: You can maintain this habit. I guessed that you had work to do, so I didn’t send you a message. But I remember that a certain someone mentioned wanting me to supervise her at work, so I came over to have a look.

Victor appears to be in a good mood, and he pats the top of my head.

Victor: I’m done with my task here. You can continue with what you were doing.

MC: Wait!

Seeing that Victor is about to leave, I hurriedly take a step forward to stop him.

MC: I’ll go with you.

Victor: Are you done with the interview?

MC: Today’s portion has been done. Give me a moment.

I blink at him, then run swiftly to the boss to make an appointment for the next collection of materials.

Even though I did hope that he’d be by my side to “supervise me at work”...

When the person I’ve been yearning for day and night appears in front of me, my train of thought is unable to remain entirely on work.

-

It’s rare for Victor’s to have a free schedule, so I urge him to return home to rest.

The sun sets, and the clamour of the city gradually goes away. Life seems to return to its original rhythm in this tranquil room.

I’m leaning against Victor as I tap on the keyboard, yet can’t help but peek at him from time to time in secret.

I watch as he wears the spectacles that were in his study room before, and the curiosity that I shelved aside from the previous night surfaces once again.

MC: Victor, do you still remember when you first stopped time?

Victor: I can’t remember clearly. Back then, I didn't think of deliberately stopping time. I just had a blurry wish.

MC: That’s really nice...

Victor: You seem to really like this ability?

MC: Anyone would be envious. Being able to stop time is both cool and useful. To take it even further, if you want to, life can even be extended.

A soft chuckle drifts from the side, kneading into the sound of flipping paper.

Victor: It isn’t that easy to control time. Simply stopping it for a while doesn’t change any outcome. The time that’s “stolen” isn’t very meaningful either. Instead, why not watch time flow by and see what it can bring?

After hearing his words, I stop typing.

MC: As expected, when it comes to the topic of time, you’re the person with the most right to speak. You really won’t consider letting me add an episode featuring an exclusive interview with you?

Victor: Rejected.

MC: You rejected so quickly... hm?

Just as I turn my head to look at him, a slight sharp pain drifts from the back of my head.

Thinking my hair is trapped on something, I reach out to look for it, and bump into VIctor’s hand accidentally.

Lowering my head, a few strands of hair spread over his fingers. The tips of my hair brush against my hand, and finally fall back into his palm.

Was he... tangling my hair earlier?

This action doesn’t seem to fit with Victor’s style. I glance at his slightly unnatural expression, controlling my laughter as I ask him a question.

MC: Victor, what are you doing?

Victor: ...I just realised that your hair has grown a little longer.

MC: It does seem like a while since I went to the salon.

I smoothen my hair in front of my chest to take a look, but don’t find any obvious changes.

MC: I can’t tell, but it’s definitely a little longer than when I had it cut.

Victor: Of course you can’t tell if you see it every day. But it’s much more obvious when looking at it after a period of time. Yesterday, you asked if I could see the shape of time. It probably looks like this. It isn't difficult to find proof of time’s existence. You can see it too.

Victor smoothens my hair a little clumsily, the corners of his lips lifting upwards.

I suddenly recall my hug with him earlier, and how I felt that his waistline was evidently thinner.

Time is constantly flowing, leaving numerous, subtle traces on our bodies.

And these little discoveries after reuniting are a form of compensation, enabling people to see the things we’ve grown accustomed to in a fresh light.

Lifting my head, I reach out to prop up his spectacles.

MC: So this is the time in your eyes.

Victor: What do you mean?

MC: In the past, I used to think that the passage of time was something a little sad. It seemed like many things fade away and vanish with time. But maybe this isn’t the fault of time. It’s just that we neglected those things because we’ve grown accustomed to their existence beside us.

Victor: Not a bad thought.

MC: See? There are benefits to occasionally deviating from habits! At the very least, I discovered another side of “Victor”.

Victor: A dummy being able to enlighten herself counts as a form of improvement. But based on the number of anniversaries you commemorate, some things are difficult to ignore.

MC: ...just treat it as a periodic review!

Victor: So at this current stage, what do you want to review?

MC: Right now...

I turn my body towards Victor. While thinking about this question, I subconsciously scrutinise Victor up and down.

His washed hair is no longer restrained by hair gel, and the eyes beneath his fringe are warmer and brighter.

I can’t recall when he started looking at me with that gaze often.

How many days and nights have we spent together? There are probably so many that I wouldn’t be able to segment them into “periods” soon.

But no matter which anniversary it is, or which moment I wish to inscribe, my feelings are the same.

MC: I thought of a poem I once read in a book - “Now is the time for drinking!” Being able to discover new surprises from a life one is accustomed to... Right now is the best time.

Victor glances at me, then turns my hand over, making a stamping gesture.

Victor: I approve of this “periodic review”.

-

After a tight schedule of preparations, the day of LFG’s charity gala quickly arrives.

In previous events like this, I’d remain backstage, constantly rushing around.

Even though I'm sitting with the distinguished guests this time, I take occasional peeks at my phone, paying attention to the happenings backstage.

The first half of the soirée goes smoothly, and many people make use of the intermission to rest and relax.

Just as I think of searching for Victor, my phone vibrates. I hurriedly slip away to the corridor of the venue to answer it.

MC: Willow, did something happen?

Willow: Boss, some issues cropped up with one of the auction items for the second half. Come quickly and have a look!

I check the time, realising that there are only twenty minutes before the second half of the soirée starts.

With no time to hesitate, I rush to the props room immediately.

-

People are bustling around backstage, and only the props room is unusually quiet.

Willow leans towards me, quietly explaining the situation before me.

Willow: When preparing the props earlier, we accidentally bumped into Auction Item No. 4 and it fell somewhere. The item’s too small, and we haven’t been able to find it. The person responsible for No. 4 has a bad temper, and is stopping us from working until we find the auction item.

I pat Willow comfortingly.

MC: Don’t panic. Our colleagues are always watching the props room, so it shouldn’t be lost. First, tell the director that this item will appear later in the evening. Pick a few meticulous colleagues to look for it. The others can handle the props as soon as possible. Leave the person-in-charge to me.

Willow nods, and very quickly attends to the matter. I suck in a soft breath, walking towards the person-in-charge who is not too far off.

MC: Hello, may I know if you’re Mdm Zheng? I’m the producer of this soirée...

While I’m conversing with the person-in-charge, my colleagues hastily deal with the props.

And that “missing” Auction Item No. 4 is finally found in between several large paper boxes.

After the person-in-charge checks it personally, she rushes to send it to the stage at the very last minute.

-

Stepping into the house, the phone which has been vibrating for the entire evening finally returns to silence.

The second half of the soirée was more or less spent coordinating the auction issue backstage.

By the time I finished replying to all the messages accumulated in my phone, the car had already reached the house.

I watch as Victor minds his own business and hangs both of our outer coats properly, and doesn’t seem to have an intention to probe. Clearing my throat, I follow after him.

MC: Cough cough. Isn’t CEO Victor going to ask what I was busy with this evening? 

Victor: I heard all about it. You resolved a big problem.

MC: ...you don’t sound very surprised.

Victor: You think I don’t know what you’re busy with? Also, this is something you’re already capable of doing.

MC: Hmph, whatever you say makes sense.

Despite my words, the corners of my lips lift upwards involuntarily.

Victor glances at me, then pulls me towards the cloakroom suddenly.

By the time I return to my senses, he has already settled me down onto a soft chair.

MC: Whats wrong?

Victor doesn’t respond. He squats down in front of me, pinching my ankle.

Victor: After busying yourself for an entire evening, are you tired?

MC: I’m pretty okay. I usually run around like this too. I’m the type who’s good in both books and martial arts!”

Victor seems to chuckle. He lifts my left foot and places it on his lap, then helps me untie the numerous shoelaces.

MC: !

My heel presses against his newly made trousers. I freeze for a moment, subconsciously wanting to retract my foot.

As though undisturbed, Victor continues holding on to my ankle, studying the knot tied to my calf.

Victor: Looks like making you take on a few large-scale events is quite meaningful. I still remember how you used to get nervous when meeting people who were the slightest bit famous. Also, when faced with trouble, you’d first lose your head and panic. After resolving it in a roundabout manner, you’d even ask me for praise.

MC: You actually remember such embarrassing things...

Victor: It’s meant to show how much you’ve improved.

While saying this, Victor tugs at the shoelace, brows furrowing slightly.

Victor: Why are these shoelaces so complicated...

Glancing at his somewhat perplexed expression, I chuckle as I pull on his hand, guiding him in untying the knot on my leg.

MC: Knowing that CEO Victor was attending the event in splendid attire, I had to work hard to dress up as well. Aside from improvements in work, don’t you find that my aesthetic sense has also improved?

Victor removes my shoe for me, rubbing my toes gently.

Victor: These shoes suit you, but they don’t fit your feet adequately. Your toes are swollen, and you didn’t feel it?

MC: Isn't this what happens when wearing high heels for a long time?

Victor: Things that are truly suitable will be comfortable no matter the circumstances. Although there are improvements in certain areas, there isn’t much progress when it comes to taking care of yourself.

After saying this, Victor once again lowers his head to untie the shoelaces on my right foot. 

Staring at the top of his head, I can’t help but find this situation a little abrupt.

The person who was receiving the applause from an audience just a few hours ago is now voluntarily taking care of me tenderly.

Not only that. Even when I’m unaware, he’s always paying close attention to me.

Even when it comes to details I don’t realise, he takes note of them for me.

In this instant, a faint, stinging emotion is in my heart, urging me to blurt out my genuine thoughts.

MC: The reason why I haven’t made progress is because you’ve been taking such good care of me, isn’t it? CEO Victor may be an investor in other areas, but in this area, you’re a big philanthropist.

Victor: Are you blaming me?

MC: I’m complimenting your conscientiousness and patience, and how you’re willing to spend time taking care of a dummy.

Victor chuckles, and I feel warm breaths faintly on my skin.

Victor: Looks like this dummy hasn’t realised that I didn’t help you this time.

MC: Hm? Are you referring to the soirée?

Victor: Mm. From planning to execution, including the sudden incident, I didn’t provide any advice. Do you know what this means?

MC: It means... that this was a test?

Victor: It’s just a periodic test. Not bad. You passed.

MC: In that case, do I get a periodic prize?

Victor: From now onwards, I can give you the right of choice. You can judge for yourself if you want to accept the programs I give you. Whether it’s a request from other businesses or from LFG. As long as you give me a clear and logical reason, you can reject them.

I’m stunned, and it’s only after a long while before I blink my eyes slowly.

MC: But rejecting CEO Victor’s goodwill sounds like a wastage of natural resources...

Victor: How do you know that everything I give you is “goodwill”?

MC: Huh? 

Victor: I said that I'd let you judge for yourself. There aren’t many good things that fall from the sky.

MC: In that case, if I simply feel tired and want to take a break, could I reject them too?

Victor: If it isn’t because you’re being lazy, you can.

MC: What if it’s because I’m giving the opportunity to our competitors?

Victor: You’ll bear all the consequences yourself.

MC: ...as expected, you’re still an investor.

Victor: If you aren’t happy about it, you could become an investor yourself and confront me.

MC: That’s even more absurd!

Victor laughs, glancing at me.

Victor: The quantitative and qualitative changes will require time. You can get used to it slowly. But the next time you take on several jobs, remember to change into a comfortable pair of shoes. Don’t make others worry.

With a gentle brush of my leg, the shoelaces of my right shoe loosen.

My ankle relaxes, and I subconsciously lower my head to look at Victor, suddenly thinking about something.

MC: Victor... I have one more question to ask you. Is the reason why you’re giving me this reward because of sympathy or because I’ve really improved? 

Victor: The latter of course.

MC: But I can’t really sense any changes in myself. You mentioned it earlier too. What happened tonight was something I should already be capable of doing.

Victor: When I said that you could do it, I was referring to the you of right now. The mistakes you made in the past didn’t surface, and the issue was resolved very well. Of course it’s an improvement.

I scrutinise his serious expression, and the corners of my lips gradually curve upwards.

MC: Is this an assessment criterion CEO Victor made specially for me?

Victor: I treat everyone equally when it comes to work. But this reward was indeed prepared specially for you.

MC: Thank you for the special care, CEO Victor! On a certain level, such improvement should also count as a trace of time.

Victor: That’s right. In that case, I’ll look forward to seeing more time on a certain person.

The final shred of doubt at the bottom of my heart is smoothened out. I cradle Victor’s cheeks, giving him a quick peck at the side of his lips.

MC: T-this is a “stamp of approval”! From now onwards, CEO Victor has to mentally prepare himself for my “rejections”.

After saying this, I try to seize this opportunity to retract my foot, but Victor catches me firmly.

Victor straightens up, looking at my expression with interest.

Victor: You seem to really like this method of “stamping”.

MC: [blushing] Well... After all, this is a tiny special privilege that I have.

Victor: Even though you know that it’s a privilege, you still use it so guiltily. Your face is as red as a tomato.

MC: [blushing] ...

Hearing the teasing tone in his voice, I feel my face becoming even warmer. Slightly embarrassed, I duck my head backwards.

Victor chuckles softly, a hand propped against the cabinet behind me, blocking my way out.

Victor: Don’t forget that this is a “contract” that both parties have to sign. Before I “stamp” it, you still can’t refuse.

The unique scent of the person in front gradually encases me, as though wanting to return in full the warmth of an evening spent apart.

As the distance gradually closes, even the lights are unable to come between us.

My vision begins to blur. It turns out that being at a close range would render one unable to see the person before them.

Yet, I am very certain that at this moment, even if we’re very close, we will still be able to see each other.

The corners of our lips meet gently, and a familiar temperature is branded on my skin.

The subtle ticking of the second hand drifts to my ear, as though penning down this memory.

In the very long time we share, one more stroke is written.

👠 Phone calls: First l Second

👠 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[angryschnauzer]

Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

 Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

 You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

 The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

 “Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

 “Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

 You glanced at the clock;

 “Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

 You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

 “You got any Chilli left?”

 “Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

 He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

 “No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

 “Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

 You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

 “Hey, you want a free muffin?”

 “I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

 The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

 “Have a good evening Detective”

 As he turned he smiled at you;

 “Call me Walter”

 -

 Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

 The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

 “Detective” you greeted him happily

 “Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

 “I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

 He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

 “What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

 “I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

 “Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

 “Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

 As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

 “... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

 He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

 “Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

 “Sure thing”

 Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

 “You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

 “I… I have no idea what that is…”

 “Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

 He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

 “You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

 He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

 “That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

 You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

 “Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

 -

 Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building. 

 Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

 The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

 He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

 “Fuck!”

 He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

 “Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

 Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

 “Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

 “You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

 “I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

 “I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

 Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

 “Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

 “Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

 You tighten your grip around his waist;

 “I wasn’t complaining…”

 There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

 He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

 “Leave those on…”

 You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

 As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

 When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

 “You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

 “You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

 Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

 “I need you inside me”

 “I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

 “I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

 With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

 “Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

 He paused, a smirk on his face;

 “You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

 “NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

 “You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

 “Please… please fuck me…”

 He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

 “Well, as you said please…”

 You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

 You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

 “Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

 Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

 “That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

 At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

 “I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

 Nodding you smiled;

 “That'd be nice”

 -

 A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

 “Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

 Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

 “Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

 You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

 “I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Part 2 >>>

[champion-leon-imagines]

Chronicles of Galar - Chapter 3: A loss & Gain of trust

This chapter is kinda sad at first. As a warning, a minor (and non-canon) character death that hit you hard and you don’t know what to do.. then you meet Leon and everything changes. Your level of friendship increases and he gives you comfort in a way, no other person would ever be able to give you. Comfort!Fluff.

"[Y/n]..", Cynthia's voice was sad and battered and that alerted you directly. Cynthia rarely called, and only when it was important or bad news. Her pitched voice suggested the worst. "I hate to have to say something like that over the phone .. ... Grandmother died .."

Your eyes widened and tears began to run down your cheeks. You had expected all sorts of things, but this news threw you completely off the mark.

"W-what ..? W-How ..? She was very healthy and not yet that old .. ", you mumbled sadly and clutched your smartphone tightly while more tears ran down your face. Professor Carolina, the village elder of Celestic Town and grandmother of Cynthia, was like a mother to you. Carolina had cared for you since the beginning of your trainer career. Since you lived in Sinnoh for several years and lived with her, the two of you cultivated such an intimate and harmonious relationship. Her death news had torn the ground from under your feet.

"She had a heart attack .. Caused by an allergic reaction after she had been exposed to the poison of an aggressive Roserade .. Roserades release a special toxin that has so far remained undiscovered by researchers, as they only eliminate it when they are really feel cornered and have to protect their offspring .. Grandmother had found a nest and wanted to study it from a safe distance, but one of the Roserades has lost its nerve. She fought for survival in the hospital for days, but .. ", Cynthia said and could no longer speak through her own tears .

"For days ...? And you call me NOW ..? Cynthia, I would have left everything and gone to Sinnoh .. "

"I didn't wanted to ruin your adventure in Galar. None of us expected that Grandmother ... would not survive .. The doctors also said at first that she was recovering nicely, but then her condition deteriorated so rapidly .... And then I was just too occupied and sad that I forgot to call you earlier. I am so sorry.."

You felt terrible. Not only because of the loss, but also because you screamed at Cynthia like this for not letting you know sooner. "Don't apologize .. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh .. I .. can't believe it .." you mumbled sadly and wiped your face.

"We all feel that way in Celestia Town.. Believe me .. The .. funeral is next week .. on Wednesday ... Are .. are you coming ..? "

"Of course I'll come .. Cynthia, thanks for everything you've done for me. I'll never forget Carolina .. I'll see you on Wednesday .. I love you, big sister, okay ..? "

"I love you too, little sister .. take good care of yourself."

With these words, Cynthia hung up and you dropped to your knees to completely give in to your emotions. You were crying so loud that your brother and his fiancée ran from the study straight to your room and wanted to know what was going on.

It wasn't long before you felt overwhelmed by the comforting hugs and words of your real family. You gently pushed the two of them away and stood up. "Sorry .. But I would like to be alone for a moment .. I'll go for a walk ..", you said and walked to the door.

"Now..? Do you took a look outside? It's raining cats and dogs. Take an umbrella with you at least. ", Aki said , worried and crossed her arms.

"I don't mind .. It's just water .. I'll .. I'll come back later, okay ..?", You smiled sadly and raised your hand to say goodbye before you just stormed out into the rain. Aki shook her head and collapsed onto the hotel couch. You and them currently stayed in Motostoke.

“I never realized how close the relationship was between her and Professor Carolina. Her death hits her as hard as if a family member had died. ", Aki said quietly.

"She was a family member for her." Mamoru began sadly. “When [Y/n] lived in Sinnoh after our parents started to argue daily, the professor behaved like a mother to her. She raised [Y/n] without hesitation, and became more or less like a little sister to Cynthia. Professor Carolina was the caring mother, our mother couldn't be at that time. So I understand that her death takes [Y/n] with it ... ", he explained.

"Shouldn't we then follow her and be there for her?", Aki insisted. Mamoru shook his head slightly.

"No. She said she wants to be alone. My sister is strong. She won't do anything stupid. Let's give her some time. And when she has recovered, she will come back and then we can still be there for her. ", he smiled confidently.

"If she hasn't caught pneumonia by then.", Aki sighed slightly. Mamoru smiled sadly.

“Then we mustn't blame her. This is what she needs least of all at the moment. "

You ran around aimlessly in the rain for a few minutes until you lost your strength and sat down on a wet bench. Your clothes were soaked and your hair was stuck to your face so that you could barely see anything. But you didn't really care about that at the moment. You pulled back your knees and put your arms around them as you leaned your head on your drawn knees and sobbed softly into them. You couldn't even say goodbye to Carolina .. You wanted to tell her so much, show her so much .. So many things were unsaid .. For example, how grateful you were that she welcomed you so warmly .. How much you appreciated you had learned and how much you  loved to bake Christmas cookies with her one last time .. that was all over now. That thought just didn't go into your head.

Minutes passed. The minutes turned into hours and the rain just wouldn't stop. It was like the heaven cried for her too. Not that it helped in any way, because your own tears just wouldn't stop. At some point you could only hear the rain, but the droplets didn't seem to hit you anymore.

'Have my senses become so numb that I can no longer feel the rain on me ..?' You thought bitterly and then looked up. You blinked perplexed when a red cape was stretched over you. You saw Leon, who was holding his big cape over him and you and protecting both of you from the rain.

"You didn't choose a good day to sit out here." Leon laughed slightly until he saw that it wasn't just rainwater that had moistened your face. Your gloomy eyes made his smile fade and he held the cape over you more generously. "Did you .. cry ..?" He asked quietly. Normally you would have been happy to meet him here, but under the current circumstances, you couldn't utter a single word. Instead, you bit your lip to hold back more tears. Unsuccessful as it seemed, because more tears ran down your cheeks again and made you sob softly in response.

Leon seemed a little overwhelmed. How should he behave now? Nobody has ever cried in front of them, especially not a woman. The purple-haired man looked around for help until he noticed that his hotel was not far from here. "You don't have to speak right now, but we should get dry first, don't you think so?" He smiled and you nodded slightly when you got up. Then, under the protection of his cape, you ran to the hotel. As he entered, Leon called the receptionist to bring fresh clothes and a towel to his room. And a hot tea. You two went to an elevator and drove to the floor where his room was.

Once there, Leon took the towel and rubbed your hair dry. Then there was a knock on the door and the room service had brought a sleeping gown that you could slip into for the time being. Leon gratefully accepted the  gown and handed it to you.

“I'm going to have a look after the tea. So you can change in peace. ", He smiled and patted your head lightly before he got up and left the room. You looked after him slightly. The tears finally stopped, but you still felt miserable. Although another emotion was budded in your heart. A warm, pleasant feeling.. You were glad that someone was looking after you at the moment .. and he was so thoughtful.

A few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. "It's me," Leon called. "Can I come in?" He asked, not wanting to burst in while you were changing. You thanked him very much for his courteous manner.

"Y-yes. I've already finished dressing. ", You said a little broken. The door opened and Leon held a small tray with the tea on it. He saw you on the hotel bed. The towel around your shoulders and in the hotel's white night gown. He smiled a little, because you didn't seem so exhausted anymore. After placing the tray on the bedside table, he sat down next to you.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Terrible .." you replied quietly. "But better than before," you added after seeing Leon a little worried.

"Would you like to talk now about what happened?" He asked further, looking at you.

"... The woman who practically raised me ... and was like a mother to me ... died." You wiped away the new tears and sobbed softly. "She was such a wonderful person .. Why did she have to die so early .."

Leon was silent for a moment and then looked sadly at the floor. His hands clenched into a fist and he didn't even know how to react.

"Professor Carolina ..?" Leon didn't even had to guess, since he already knew a lot about your past. You nodded sadly and Leon's face grew sadder. "I'm really sorry about that .. My deepest condolences .." he said sadly.

"Thanks ..", you mumbled and hugged yourself, trying to find some warmth.

"If I can do anything for you .. Tell me.", He offered you and you looked next to you. You swallowed lightly and sighed.

"Can you .. just hug me ..?" You asked softly. Leon blinked slightly. Although you had met a few times, both of you hardly had any physical contact so far. Except for a short, half-hearted hug as a greeting. This time it was different.

"Of course," he replied immediately and put his arms around your trembling body to pull you close. You buried your face right in his jersey and wrapped your arms around his stomach.

"Thank you ..", you whispered softly and muffled when you felt how he caressed your back soothingly.

"Don't mention it." he said and hugged you to give you the greatest possible comfort. You and Leon lingered in that embrace in silence. Your sobs grew quieter and your breathing became calmer. At some point the purple-haired man noticed that your eyes were closed. You must have fallen asleep. Leon smiled a little and laid you on the bed properly before covering you and caressing your cheek. Then he looked at his smartphone, which was about to remind him of an appointment. He got up and wanted to go when he noticed how you grabbed his hand and prevented him from going. "[Y/n] ..?"

"Please don't go now .. I .. don't want to .. be .. alone ..", you stuttered with half-open eyes. Your [e/c] irises shone from all the weeping and Leon looked at you desperately. He thought about his appointment and sighed. Then he put his other hand on top of yours and smiled.

"Alright. I'll stay with you. ", He said and sat down on the bed again. You smiled gratefully and pressed his hand to your cheek.

"Thank you ...", you mumbled softly and then held up your other hand, asking that he lay down next to you. Leon smiled and lay down next to you to pull you into his arms and hug you. You both looked at each other for a while before closing your eyes and falling asleep.

On the next morning, Leon's voice woke you up. He didn't sounded angry, but a little louder than usual. And he seemed to be talking to someone. You opened your eyes and blinked when you saw Leon pacing up and down the room.

“I told you Oleana. I couldn't meet with President Rose on this appointment because there was an emergency. ... a private emergency. No, it didn't concern me personally, but ... ... Now please listen to me. ", Leon sighed and rubbed his face in annoyance. You just couldn't talk sensibly to this woman. “Of course, I am aware of the consequences if I fail to keep important appointments for no good reason. But the reason was important to me. And I don't care if you see it any other way. … Yes, then tell President Rose that we will postpone the appointment until next week. ”He hung up and sighed deeply again. "I wouldn't want to work with this woman .." he mumbled quietly and turned around. He saw that you were awake and looked at him in shock. "Oh..“

"You had an appointment with President Rose yesterday ...?" You asked and Leon averted his gaze guiltily. "Why did not you say anything..? I wouldn't have held you here if I had known that you had an important appointment .. ", You said ashamed and straightened up.

"You needed someone.", Was his only answer when he looked at you again. His words only made you more shocked.

"You had put my well-being over your appointments ..?", You asked incredulously and put your hand over your mouth. Leon smiled and walked towards you when he put his big hand over your head.

"Of course. I can always make up or postpone appointments. But you cannot control your feelings. That's why .. it was more important to me to be there for you than to give Rose another stupid interview about why I'm the unbeatable champion. ", He said with a charming smile.

You felt like you were about to start crying again. This time, however, not from grief. The warmth of this man simply took in every fiber of your body and you literally threw yourself into his arms after these words. Leon blinked in astonishment before putting his arms around you and hugging you again as you buried your nose in his neck.

"I-I'm sorry, only because of me...Because of me your schedule got messed up .. I'll make it up to you, I promise," You said quietly. Leon laughed softly before pulling away a little and caressing your cheek.

“If you want to make it up, then .. I know of a small, cozy ice cream parlor. That serves the BEST Alcremie sundae in Galar. How does that sound? ”He asked and winked. You smiled and your grief was almost forgotten for that moment.

"Sounds good."

Since that day the friendship of you had reached a new, more intimate level.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[beauregardlionett]

i think i might understand the concept of home

AO3 Link

Yasha’s car had broken down on the side of the road in some tiny town she only meant to pass through. She hadn’t even read the welcome sign half-a-mile back, so gods knew where she was. Thankfully, there was a shoulder and a sidewalk, so she wasn’t stuck in the middle of traffic. She had the hood popped and stared helplessly down at the tangle of mechanics she did not understand.

Nothing was smoking, so she figured that must be a good thing.

“Need a hand?”

Yasha glanced up, catching sight of a woman standing just outside the coffee shop Yasha broke down in front of. She stood defined in the sunlight, composed of sharp lines and lean muscle, contained by planes of smooth, coffee-colored skin. She had on a simple grey sports bra under denim overalls littered with stains and distressed patches torn in random places on the legs. Her hair was in a low bun sat over what looked like an undercut all tucked messily beneath a backward cap.

Damn...she was hot.

The woman cocked an expectant eyebrow, reminding Yasha she had yet to answer.

“Oh, um...yes?”

Hot Lady smirked and stepped off the curb to stand at Yasha’s shoulder, leaning over the open hood and inspecting the mess. Yasha was busy inspecting the tanned slope of neck to bare shoulder, all of her quite a sight in the midday sunlight.

Gods, was that a tattoo on her back?

With abrupt yet easy precision, Hot Lady hauled herself up onto the lip of Yasha’s truck and shoved her hand between various pieces of metal. Startled, Yasha looked down at the engine, hoping she wouldn’t have to call emergency services for a hand lost in her car engine.

“The alternator might be shot,” Hot Lady said, squinting as she moved her hand around a little.

“What does that mean?” Yasha managed, only a little strangled.

“Means you need to get your car into a shop because you aren’t going to have much luck getting far without it.” Hot Lady removed her hand and gave a little hop back down to the pavement. She wiped her hand carelessly on her overalls and shrugged a little.

“It’s not a super challenging thing to fix, but it will take a minute. I can point you to a good garage if you need.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you...um...”

“Beauregard,” the woman said, sticking out her hand with a grin. “Call me Beau.”

After hesitating a moment, Yasha grasped Beau’s hand and gave it a tentative shake, cheeks warm. Her face flushed even warmer when Beau raised her eyebrow again, clearly waiting for Yasha’s name.

“Yasha,” she blurted, horrid awkwardness muddying her chest. “I’m Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said as she slowly took her hand back. Yasha already like the way her name sounded rolling off of Beau’s tongue - perhaps far too much for someone she just met.

“You might need to shack up somewhere for the night,” Beau said, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting someone. “Depending on how long the garage takes with your car. I haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You got a place to stay?”

“Oh...no,” Yasha managed. “I’m just passing through.”

“Well, I texted my buddy over at the garage to come get your car. He’ll be here soon. There’s only one hotel in this town, and to be honest, it sucks. My buddy Caleb moved most of his stuff out of his apartment, but he hasn’t turned the lease over yet. He got a big wig job two hours from here and they had him start early, despite the fact he still had a month on the lease. You can crash there if you want. I’m pretty sure he left his mattress.”

Yasha blinked, dazed and flabbergasted at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I...what?”

Beau looked up from her phone, fingers pausing in their rapid texting. She seemed to take in Yasha’s stunned expression and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry, that was a lot all at once.” Beau tucked her phone away and crossed her arms over her chest. Yasha recognized the defensive tactic attempting to look casual with ease. She performed that move often enough herself.

“This ‘helping’ thing isn’t my forte - more Jess’ thing. But uh...yeah. If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. Promise there're no strings attached or anything like that.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“True,” Beau shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything to steal from Caleb’s place. It’s basically an empty apartment he’s not getting anything out of. Might as well put the place to good use.”

“Okay,” Yasha said after a moment of strange quiet. What else was she supposed to say?

Beau blinked up at Yasha, then grinned, wide and delighted. “Cool.”

A few minutes later, a tow truck pulled up. Beau greeted the driver enthusiastically as Yasha watched on, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

--

“This is it,” Beau said, shoving open the door with her hip as she wrestled the key out of the lock.

Yasha followed Beau in, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her meager duffle bag. The apartment was near barren, as Beau had said. It had a small living area that faded seamlessly into a kitchenette. Down a short hallway appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom, both doors open. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The only sign someone had recently been occupying the space was the old mattress just visible through the bedroom door and the sagging sofa in the living room.

“Sorry there’s no food in the kitchen, but there’s a store about a block from here if you’re up for a walk. I’d hang around but I have to get to a class.”

Yasha twisted to look at Beau, something bubbling up in her chest that felt a lot like gratitude and a little like something indescribable. She watched as Beau fiddled with her key ring, only realizing what was happening when Beau pulled a key off and tossed it to Yasha. She just barely managed to catch it and not make a fool of herself.

“That’s the key to the door for ya. And,” Beau pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from her pocket, holding it out to Yasha. “My number, in case you have questions or you need anything. I’m a night owl and an early riser, so chances are I’ll answer whenever.”

“Thank you,” Yasha warbled after a long moment, clutching the key so hard the grooves of its identity imprinted into her palm. The notches stung like she would never forget their shape. “I mean it. This is...a lot.”

Beau rubbed the back of her neck, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the worn floorboards. “It’s nothin’ really...”

“No,” Yasha insisted. “It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Beau’s gaze met Yasha’s intense stare, her bright blue eyes wide as they took in Yasha’s sincerity. A handful of seconds stretched into eternity before Beau ducked her head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah...sure.”

Yasha was getting the impression she wasn’t the only one completely out of her depth in this situation.

“I’ll come around tomorrow with updates...bye.”

Yasha watched her duck out the door, disappearing down the hallway before she shut the door behind Beau and clicked the lock.

--

The garage had Yasha’s car fixed and ready to go after two days. Yasha was still in town three months later.

In all honesty, she’s not sure how it happened.

The night she planned to leave, Beau had swung by and insisted on seeing her off. They ended up at a diner, tucked into a booth, talking like they actually knew each other. Next thing Yasha realized, it was nearing midnight, and they were being asked to wrap up so the diner could close. The chef had called to them from the window, an older looking man with bright pink hair who gave Beau a knowing look and a wink.

Somehow, that unplanned extra night turned into months. Yasha had taken on the lease from the absent Caleb for his apartment. She found a job at the local florist, a job she quietly enjoyed. The gravity of her situation only set in after she bought sheets for the mattress.

She met Jess - real name Jester, or Genevieve, but Yasha couldn’t sure - a bubbly girl with deep blue hair and the sweetest attitude ever. Her fingertips were permanently paint stained, and she left hastily sketched dicks everywhere she went. Yasha also met the tow truck driver from the first day, a guy named Fjord. They were a weird mix of individuals, but somehow they got on just fine. They ate dinner together every Thursday night at the same bar owned by the guy who tended the bar - one of those small town things. His name was Mollymauk - Molly for short and sometimes they instead of he - with inordinately purple hair and makeup to match.

Yasha never really spent a lot of time in her apartment. She didn’t see the point, not when she had access to the florist shop, or the diner, or anywhere else with Jess, Fjord, Molly, or Beau. Especially not when Jess’ apartment she shared with Fjord was so much warmer, much more like a home.

It took three months before Beau stopped mid-sentence of a story and blinked at Yasha over their pancakes in the diner.

“This is probably a stupid question, but did you have somewhere to be?”

Yasha looked up, confused. “Right now? Uh...no? My shift at the shop doesn’t start for another three hours.”

“No, no, I meant like outside this town. You told me you were passing through, before.”

“Oh,” Yasha set down her fork and looked out the window. Her chest felt tight. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago - a whole other person ago. “Not really.”

“Do...uhm,” Yasha looked over at Beau to find her pushing her food around her plate awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This was difficult for both of them. If Yasha had learned anything in her time here, it was that they both struggled to convey their emotions eloquently. But that Beau tried meant everything to Yasha. The least she could do was meet her halfway.

“I was running, and I didn’t know where or when I would stop. But I guess this place is where I’m meant to be.”

“Why were you running?” Beau stared at her, gaze intense in a way Yasha found endearing. She watched like nothing else in the world could distract her.

“I...I had a wife. And I lost her rather abruptly almost six months ago. I tried to stay for a while, to keep what we had built together, but I wasn’t strong enough. So I ran and hoped that I would find something worth staying for again before I fell off the world.”

Beau stared at Yasha openly over their half-eaten breakfast, eyes wide.

“You stayed here. Does that mean you found something here?”

Yasha looked at Beau, at her messy bun and her undercut that needed a fresh shave. She took in the puddle of syrup, slowly saturating Beau’s pancakes and the half gone pile of bacon. Beau’s cellphone sat face down on the table so her attention stayed on Yasha. She realized the baggy sweater Beau had on was one Yasha had misplaced almost a month ago. Yasha lost her breath at the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach.

“I think so,” Yasha breathed, tethered and unhinged all at once.

--

They didn’t talk about it, because of course they didn’t.

But two weeks after their pancake conversation, Beau invited Yasha out for a night on the town. There were only two bars with decent night life here, and Yasha had been to both of them exactly once during her time here. (The daytime trips to Molly’s bar didn’t count, of course. She had only been to their bar for the night life once.)

She met Beau in the middle, and they walked together the rest of the way.

Beau had gotten her undercut shaved tight again, but it was hidden with the way her hair spilled loose and long down her back. She had a cobalt lace crop top on - the one with the built-in bra. The way it showed off the definition of her muscles was doing things to Yasha. The black cigarette pants didn’t help either.

A few drinks and way too many EDM songs later - or maybe only a few? Yasha couldn’t tell them apart - Yasha remained upright from adrenaline alone. Somewhere between the drinks and the beat of the music, Beau pressed up against Yasha, wiry arms winding around Yasha’s neck as they danced. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer in any regard, but she was just tipsy enough to not care.

Beau’s hips fit comfortably in the space between Yasha’s hands, and Yasha resolutely tried not to follow that train of thought. For no other reason than she didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and there was no way Beau felt the same.

Beau pushed onto her toes, shiny black boots creasing with the motion as her lace top rode up her enticing torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” Beau called over the heavy thrum of the base. Her voice nearly got lost in the din, but Yasha heard her. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. The weight of her heart dropping into her stomach hit too heavy and real to ignore.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss Beau, too.

Yasha’s t-shirt stuck to random parts of her torso with sweat, a detail she was now hyper-aware of with how little space existed between her and Beau. The press of bodies around them was abruptly unnerving. So much so, Yasha wound an arm around Beau’s shoulders and steered them both free, ducking into the hallway that lead to the bathrooms as Yasha gasped for air.

Beau leaned her back against the wall for support, peering at Yasha with far too much clarity for someone who could barely stand upright.

“Are you okay, Yash?” Her voice was quieter now that they had moved out of the main bar, but the base still pounded like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

With more confidence than Yasha would ever possess in her life, she caged Beau in, a hand on either side of her head against the wall. As Beau stared up at her with unabashed awe, Yasha’s face warmed with flushed embarrassment.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Then do it,” Beau said. It sounded like a dare, but she said it as if she were asking permission.

With a quick swoop into Beau’s space, Yasha pressed her lips to Beau’s with the barest amount of pressure. A feather-light, electric brush of a promise, a question, and an invitation. Yasha moved no closer.

Beau leaned in, and as far as kisses went, it was simple. Neither of them surged toward the other, or grappled for purchase to deepen the embrace. It was an easy press of lips, testing the waters despite the alluring tug of the tide.

Tipsy seconds later, Beau pulled back first with a soft gasp. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt like a cheesy teenager when she realized they had closed without her knowledge.

“Do you want to do this?” Beau asked, voice soft and a little wrecked despite the chaste kiss.

Yasha, never one for many words, gave a quick nod and ducked back in. It wasn’t confidence, more like the beginning of a realization.

Beau held onto her, this time hands back around Yasha’s neck and fingers tangled deep in Yasha’s wild hair. Yasha took one hand from the wall to cup the back of Beau’s head, fingers sliding easily over the short hairs of Beau’s undercut.

It wasn’t a fireball kiss, but it tasted like the whiskey shots they had done half an hour ago. Beau’s lips were soft and a stark contrast to the way she kissed Yasha. It wasn’t falling stars and fire lit in her chest, nor was it a cosmic shift of puzzle pieces snapping into place. As before, it was a realization, a revelation of something that might have been there for a while.

Beau kissed Yasha back, and she thought about pancakes at the diner and memorizing the way Beau’s eyes scrunched when she laughed. Yasha rubbed her thumb over Beau’s jawline and Beau’s sharp grin burst to life behind her eyelids. A tug to Yasha’s hair reminded her of Beau offering to braid Yasha’s messy locks every time they all slept at Jess’ place. Beau licked into Yasha’s mouth and all at once, Yasha pictured her apartment. She saw the walls she had kept carefully bare, the sheets she had bought, but no other furniture. The echoing emptiness of a place abandoned for a better chance, and inhabited by the echo of who Yasha used to be.

And what did people say about echoes being louder in empty rooms?

Beau kissed Yasha, and Yasha realized she didn’t want to be an echo anymore.

Beau made her feel solid in a way that was undemanding. She merely held out her hand and asked for the pieces of Yasha that were real, the parts she was willing to share. She helped Yasha make them into a complete picture.

Yasha kissed Beau back with all the gentle strength she could muster through the weight of her epiphany and the whiskey.

This time, Yasha knew she found something worth staying for.

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Promises (Reader x Zemo)

Zemo and his guard make their escape

Word Count: 3,395

Warnings: Violence. Part 2 of the Escape Series, Here is Part 1 Zemo Tag List: @lucky-luck-lucky @neoarchipelago @mrs-mischief-209 @londoninamerica

“This is a terrible fucking idea” You kept Zemo close behind you as you rounded the tight corner, the deafening sound of the alert alarm had started blasting the second someone realised a prisoner was no longer in their cell. You’d tried your best to get as far through the plan as possible but part of this involved trusting him to get you both out of here and something irritating in the back of your mind was making you doubt that decision. The corridor was in darkness except for cuts of light from the small windows high up towards the ceiling - sunrise was almost over. “Well I hate to inform you my dear but I’m just following your plan” Zemo whispered back, following closely at your heels as you both half walked, half ran down the corridor. “Also, may I add, you look beautiful in this light”

“Shut up” you hissed.

The alarms blaring in the corridors were making your heart pound almost as loudly. You were running out of time, you know you’d planned this down to the last second but this was reckless in the best of circumstances. The Raft was no normal prison; it was a prison for enhanced persons which meant security was tighter and much less likely to fail. Early morning was your choice due to the lack of guards around on each floor; you’d made it so that you were on inspection duty again. Due to the limited prisoners things had gotten lazy around here and you figured you could only make this work to your advantage. It was going well, it was perfect even. You’d given up trying to avoid cameras as you ran down the service corridor towards a blind spot you knew existed that would give you a moments respite ready for the final step. You would bet money on the fact they knew it was you doing this so as much you were aiming to get himout it was also imperative to get yourself out too. Who else would it be? It was Zemo and there was only one person in this whole place who would want to break his cocky ass out and that was you.

“Your friend better show up” you whispered through gritted teeth trying to steady your breathing.

“He will” Zemos breathing was just as fast but his face remained stoic. He watched you when he thought you were looking, curious eyes scanning your face. You presumed he was calculating how best to get rid of you when he was out of this place but you were doing this to give him the benefit of the doubt. Much like everyone else The Raft housed he was here because he thought he was doing the right thing. Everything he did was for his family and you couldn’t help but feel for that side of him. The man who kept his promises.

You rifled through the backpack you were carrying and handed him a pair of dark jeans and a black hoodie to change into “Wear this; I’m not walking you around wearing that uniform”. He smiled taking them from you instantly pulling the top of his prison uniform over his head; you hastily diverted your eyes. Both of you were huddled in an enclosed part of the corridor to stay out of sight of anyone who may come searching, a great choice for safety. However this also meant that, despite the fact you diverted your eyes, you could feel his bare skin brushing against your arms as he moved to change.

“I’ve had guards watching me use the bathroom for months dear one, do you really think I’m concerned by you seeing me change?” he chuckled quietly before handing you his discarded clothes, “Also how did you know my sizes?” he asked adjusting the hoodie that sat perfectly across his shoulders.

“I read your file” you shrugged. Your phone beeped in your pocket, the message simply read ‘On the roof’

You grabbed Zemo by the scruff of the hoodie and pulled him closer “Do exactly as I tell you, got it?”

He nodded “Of course, a woman in charge is simply irresistible”

You scoffed and started dragging him along the service corridor. There was an access point to the roof along here that stupidly sat in a complete blind spot from the cameras. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you heard a clear, ringing gunshot behind you “Stop right there” You sighed, knowing the gruff tones of your superior officer anywhere; you raised your hands mockingly and spun in place on your heels staring him down. Zemo followed your motions throwing you a quick, indiscernible look before his back was turned to you. “Of course it would be you. You and your boyfriend better keep your hands up where I can see them” “David listen – “ he cut you off by firing another warning shot. “Shut up” he shouted, voice reverberating off the metal walls. He reached up and spoke into the radio that was clipped to his shoulder. “Did you bring what I told you too?” Zemo whispered over his shoulder. You stuttered, your brain was going at 30 miles an hour and it was hard to keep yourself on point. You knew exactly what he was talking about; you could feel the metal of it pressing into your back. “Yes but no, you can’t” you mumbled, your eyebrows raised in panic as Zemo turned to you. You internally rolled your eyes at how surprised you felt by his calmness, it was like you’d forgotten who he was.

“I said don’t move” you heard David shout, another warning shot hitting the roof. You flinched and urged Zemo turn around with wide eyes.

“It’s now or never. Do you trust me?” Zemo asked simply.

You paused, searching his face for any sign of deception. Sighing you lowered your arms, you blocked out the frantic shouting from David as best you could by keeping your eyes trained on Zemos. You could see David in your periphery with his gun raised; you slipped your hands behind your back and under your shirt. You pulled out the weapon you’d been given by Zemos friend and slotted it into his hands.

Before you could blink Zemo spun with the gun raised. You had expected him simply to shoot but he began walking slowly forward towards David, you panicked and your feet stumbled after him. He shot one hand back firmly to stop you before returning it to its steady position holding the gun.

“Stop right there Zemo” David shouted, his gun also raised and trained on Zemo who was steadily still walking towards him. You could see Davids confused panic matching your own.

You shuffled on your feet wanting to shout out to him to stop, did he have a death wish?! Then you remembered the story he’d told you about Siberia and your heart pounded harder. He’d held a gun in his hand then too but you certainly don’t have the bulletproof Blank Panther armour to stop him this time. ‘Please tell me he’s not going to commit suicide by cop and just leave me here’ you thought to yourself, begging to the voice inside your own head. David was practically screaming instructions, ranting demands in his confusion at Zemos steely defiance. Then before you could ascertain what happened Zemo fired a shot. David dropped – it was that quick. Mere seconds. Blood oozed slowly out onto the cold concrete floor and you stared half in shock.

“You know for a man who was always so hot on officers wearing protective uniforms you’d think he’d a least wear a scrap of armour himself” you whispered, thinking out loud. As Zemo reached you once more you tsk’d and smacked his chest hard “Don’t show off like that again!” He chuckled and tucked the gun into the back of his jeans. Pushing his hair back he then gestured to the laddered stairs that lead to the roof, “After you” You made your way to clamber up the ladder, “Don’t stare at my ass!”

-------------------

As you reached the roof the helicopter blades were already going, winds blasted you both causing your hair to swirl in front of your face. You watched Zemo greet the pilot with a small wave and he began walking forward towards the open helicopter door. For some reason it was at this moment your body froze. Your hair whipped your face and you struggled to stay in place with the force of the winds but you couldn’t move your feet. You’d given up everything, just like that – he’d somehow convinced you to give up everything for him. There was no way to come back from this, not one single way.

You wanted to scream at yourself for being stupid or naive but you couldn’t help yourself - you trusted him. You didn’t understand how or why but you did; something about him made you want to follow him to the ends of the earth and never look back. If someone asked for an explanation you wouldn’t have the words and that was a strangely beautiful notion to you.

Something told you he was a good man; despite his past and all he had done he was a good man. He had murdered, tortured and maimed but to you he was a lost soul who needed company. A man who had lost everything and fought like hell to keep one simple promise.

He shouted your name over the whirring blades, you looked up to see he had stopped also and he was running back to you, crouched low to avoid getting hit.

“Second thoughts?” he asked as he got close enough to you to lower his voice, a small smile played on his lips. You shook your head but didn’t speak. He stepped closer to you again, almost toe to toe “I apologise about your friend”

“H-he wasn’t a friend”

“Then why did you stop?”

You opened and closed your mouth stupidly, like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out. You felt him cautiously put his hands on your upper arms, running his thumbs over your skin.

“I promised I would protect you, you deserve a life outside of this prison as I do” You noticed that despite the strength of his Sokovian accent it was also calm and delightful in its gravelly tone. You found it almost comforting listening to the way he formed his words so delicately.

That was the moment you realised it wasn’t that you didn’t believe him, as he spoke you trusted what he was saying, you trusted he wasn’t lying. It wasn’t Zemo that had made you stop.

“It’s just… this is the first time I’ve been in fresh air in 9 months”

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your admission before his face softened, he reached up and ran the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He didn’t speak but took your hand and pulled just a little. You staggered on your feet but followed, he placed his hand softly on the back of your head as you both moved together to keep you low and out of harm.

He stepped in first, speaking in Sokovian to the pilot whom he called Oeznik. Scrambling in behind him you gathered your backpack between your feet. You sat huddled against him as a deep shiver wracked through your body. He looked down with sympathy set behind his eyes and leaned his arm across your shoulder. You leaned forward out of his touch suddenly and bent down for your bag.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean too-“ he began hesitantly, afraid that he’d offended you with his physical affection, but you stopped him by sitting up and placing a small plastic wrapped package into his lap.

“What is this?” he asked curiously, turning it over in his hands before unravelling the wrapping slightly. Small hard multi-coloured candies tumbled out into his waiting palm.

“Turkish Delight. You said your son liked them.” you blushed at your own words, embarrassed at the familiarity you showed him and you were unable to hold his eye contact as you continued “I thought it would a comforting introduction back into the world”

He unwrapped a sweet and popped it into his mouth, he closed his eyes and a soft smile spread across his face. You watched him for a second before he opened his eyes; you gave him a shy unsure look before he leant in and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you milaya”

-------------------

“Holy shit” you whispered under your breath.

The room he led you into was expansive, he’d told you this was one of his homes in the area but the place looked like a palace inside. Everything was adorned in deep ornate gold tones with rich ruby and burnt orange colours intertwined. The ceilings were impossibly high and housed a huge crystal chandelier that twinkled in the beaming sunlight that came through large elaborate windows at the back of the room. The floors under your feet were intricate mosaic tile and you suddenly felt the need to tread a little lighter in your heavy boots.

“Impressive isn’t it?” he smirked; he gesticulated to a rack of clothes that was against one wall. “You need to change, pick anything you like” and with that statement he disappeared behind a curtain. He was still sort of visible to you, ruffling around in what you presumed were his own clothes.

“So what, I break you out of prison and you give me a dress? Seems like a fair deal” you said sarcastically, voice raised so he could hear you.

“No, you break me out of prison and I give you the life I promised you. If you want it” he shouted back.

“You’ll be on the run for the rest of your born days Zemo. What life?!” that panic had set back in again now you were out in the real world. Your fingers tapped against your thighs and you stared around you wide eyed. This was all so overwhelming.

“Exactly. We can go wherever, whenever. We’ll stay in the shadows and live how we want too”

He appeared from behind the curtain, he was now dressed cleanly in fresh black jeans and an aubergine purple turtleneck. He draped a fur collared coat around his shoulders and extended his arms “You like it?” he grinned at your staring.

You swallowed hard and nodded. He looked expensive and far out of your league. As you absentmindedly smoothed rich silk materials between your fingers you suddenly remembered you’d run away with a Baron. The teasing smirk still played on his lips as he approached you, he traced down your arm watching the way his touch raised goosebumps on your skin.

“You think people are just going to let you go? The Raft will be looking for you. The Wakandans! You think they are just going to let this slide?”

He shushed you and pushed hair out of your eyes “What I said was no lie, you deserve a life and I’m going to give it to you. A woman as skilled and beautiful as you deserves to show off no?”

You swallowed again, nodding gingerly at his words trying to convince yourself more than him to calm down and trust him.

“Why am I picking out dresses?” you asked quietly, noticing you were still slipping silk material through your fingers that belonged to the beautiful dresses far beyond your pay grade.

“We’re going out” he said matter of factly, walking across the room and pouring himself something from the decanter on the side.

“We can’t go out!” you protested frantically, abandoning your dress choices and scurrying after him. You grabbed him by the forearm of his free arm and gripped him tightly.

“I’ll only take you to places where I know you will be safe. Let me show you freedom” he whispered, leaning close to your face. Whispers of whatever golden brown liquid he was drinking filled your nostrils and you exhaled the breath you had been holding. He put the glass down and spun you so your back was against his chest, his breath ghosted over your exposed neck and you resisted the urge to shiver. He directed your body towards the wrack of clothes and brought his lips to your ear, “Plus any chance to see you out of that guards uniform would be a blessing”

You tutted and wriggled out of his grasp, rolling your eyes at him over your shoulder before turning away hiding a blushing smile.

You hummed to yourself, pushing clothes back and forth on the rack before you pulled out a wine red dress, admiring its beauty. The red was deep against your pale skin, the feeling of the silk was like butter and the thought of it brushing your upper thighs made you tremble.

Like he could read your mind Zemo had walked quietly behind you and placed a hand lightly against your thigh, brushing his fingers with just a little pressure. His voice at your ear snapped you out of the trance “It will suit you”

You took the dress, grabbing a pair of shoes, and sauntered behind the curtain. Gingerly starting to remove your clothes that were sticking to you with sweat you thought about how you could probably do with a shower but something told you there was no time. Your body was thrumming with anxiety, your first night of freedom from that place – for the both of you – and mostly you wanted to relax and enjoy Zemos company. Talking to him without bullet proof glass and steel bars between you seemed like bliss in your head. The thought of getting to brush his hair back as he spoke, like you had thought of doing so many times, made your fingertips tingle. But you were still fighting back a nervous tremble that shook your entire body, was this going too far? Was it too soon? He could sense your anxiety from behind the curtain as you moved quietly but hastily so he spoke up, voice soft “I mean it, you are mine. I keep safe what is mine” You poked your head out from behind the curtain holding the gold shoes you were about to slip on; you raised a stern eyebrow at his presumption that you were ‘his’. He smiled, playfully trying to peek behind the curtain but you pulled it up to cover yourself “You know what I mean” he said.

You giggled and pulled the curtain back fully, watching his eyes drift down your figure as you smoothed the silk of the dress over your curves self-consciously and bent to fasten the shoes, “I know” you said with a soft smile.

He guided you closer to him with light hands, just the cautious tips of his fingers creating a tantalising pressure on your hips, “You look simply ravishing” he gushed; accent accentuating the low gravel of his voice. You simpered and shook your head, he tsk’d at your defiance “You do, a princess!”

You openly laughed this time, pushing against his chest teasingly “Shut up”

He smiled with you, refusing to let go of your hips and pulling you back, the heels of your shoes clicked quietly on the tile floor as you stumbled closer to him raising your hands to press against his chest to steady yourself. He drifted his hands up your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, eyes studying every inch of you. His fingers linked gently into your hair, massaging ever so lightly against your scalp and you sighed closing your eyes for just a split second. Suddenly you felt lips press against yours; you gasped and he took that chance to deepen the kiss just a little. You whimpered softly and your fingers tightened their grasp on his clothes before sliding down to wrap around his waist as you melted against him. This wasn’t a moment for hot and heavy; it was affectionate and shy – a delicate exploration of something new, terrifying and captivating. As you felt him lean slightly back from you your eyes fluttered open, body protesting his momentary retreat.

“I keep my promises” he whispered against your lips.

“I know you do”

[salandition]

Its,,,,, so basic but Maybe Leon and Reader are training out near Circhester and get caught in a snowstorm? They find an old cabin amongst the trees and tHeReS OnLy OnE BED and they have to keep warm,,,, (Love your writing btw)

A/N: yes, the classic trope. I will gladly take a bite out of it :) Also this one kind of really dragged on, so it’s a bit long lol took me way too long to finish. if any of you recognize the title, ur a real one 

Chilly Down (Good Times, Bad Food)

Leon x Reader

--- --- ---

You feel like you should have expected something like this to happen. Despite what a great guy Leon is and how fun it is to hang out with him, he was sort of a magnet for trouble. He had an ability to draw in unfortunate events wherever he went it seemed. 

So you’re not completely surprised when you and Leon are hit with an unexpected snowstorm while training together outside of Circhester. Are you a bit miffed about it? Yes. But surprised? No, not really. 

“Training with the Champion is great and all,” you yell over the storm, one arm in front of your face to uselessly protect you from the snow, and your other hand is holding tightly onto Leon’s. Grabbing hold of him was almost more important than making it out of the storm- if you lost sight of Leon during this, you might never see him ever again. He’d find some way to end up on an undiscovered continent, you just know it. “But I think I’ll pass on your invitations after this!” You finally finish, continuing to trudge through the snow with him. 

“You know, usually I’d argue, but I think that’s fair,” Leon laughs, and then immediately shuts his mouth as a rush of cold air hits him and tries to travel down his throat. He hacks a few times- a few ice crystals probably hit his uvula or something- and then you feel a harsh tug on your hand. “Look!” 

Leon points toward a dim but very much real yellow glow in the distance. Immediately, the two of you head for it- desperate for any shelter you could be given. Part of you was doubtful, wondering if it was just some luminescent Pokémon or a random streetlight. Though even a streetlight would be better than nothing- that would mean you were back on the route’s path and could find your way back to Circhester if you were lucky. 

But it wasn’t a random streetlight. Thank whatever Gods that may exist- the light was coming from a big, sturdy wooden cabin, a sign being viciously blown by the wind read that it was even a hotel. What are the odds? 

“This is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Leon yells as you both make a run for the cabin. 

“I believe it!” 

You almost fall with the amount of force that you and Leon enter the cabin with- both frantic to get out of the biting cold. You actually do fall, tumbling into a roll on the ground and snow scattering everywhere as Leon fumbles for the door and slams it shut before you bring too much of the storm inside. 

Heavily breathing, you don’t even notice the lady behind the counter before she coughs. 

Leon looks up with a beaming grin, laughing as he huffs and puffs, leaning against the door. “Hell of a storm, innit?” 

Not the smartest thing to say, but the lady gives out an amused snort anyway. 

“I’m assuming the two of you will be purchasing a room?” She tilts her head with a gleam in her eye. Something tells you that business isn’t going so well if she’s working in a hotel in the middle of nowhere and she’s still charging when you’re both obviously stranded- but hey, that’s life. You look up to Leon as you stay on the floor, hands on your chest as you continue to try and catch your breath. 

“Let me see,” you huff and wheeze, “those Champion benefits,” another huff, “big guy.” 

It’s not that funny but Leon laughs so hard that he starts to slide down the door, knees buckling beneath him, and you think that’s really funny so you start laughing too, rolling on the floor. The lady watches all the while, and if you notice a flying Rotom recording you while you and Leon lose your minds over nothing, you don’t say anything about it. 

Once Leon manages to shuffle over and pay the woman at the desk after your post-adrenaline delirium, she gladly shows you over to your room. You’re suddenly feeling exhausted after trudging through a snowstorm, so you don’t pay much attention to what she says as she leads you there- but it’s not like you need to. Leon does most of the talking as he keeps you steady with an arm around your shoulder. 

You don’t notice the look the woman gives you, nor do you notice the look Leon gives back. All you feel is the comforting rub of his hand on your arm, and it’s nice. 

“Enjoy your stay, you two,” is the only thing you pick up from her before the door is shut and you’re left alone in your newly-purchased hotel room.

There’s an important detail here, and that detail is the fact that there’s only one bed, and you’ve never shared a bed with Leon before. Sure, you’re friends, but you’ve never been the cuddling-type of friends. This detail is completely missed by both of you as luck would have it because as soon as you and Leon manage to remove your clothes, you’re out like a pair of lights the second your backs hit the mattress. 

No, the problem and important detail doesn’t really announce itself in your mind until morning comes. Well- afternoon, actually, if you managed to look at a clock. 

When you awake- at first, it’s not strange. It’s not strange until you recognize the hand around your waist, hair in your face, and legs entwined with yours- which is definitely not something that’s a usual occurrence for you. Recognizing all of these details, your eyes snap open, and you begin to take in the situation as it is. 

Leon and you both stripped down to your underwear, definitely cuddling, and definitely in the only bed available in the room as far as you can see. And from what you can tell with how the walls shake and the windows vibrate, the storm is still going strong. 

Right. 

“Leon,” your voice is hoarse from sleep as you smack your lips, your hand lifting up to shake Leon’s arm that’s wrapped tightly around your waist. “Leon, you daft idiot, wake up,” 

“Mmmgh,”

“I’ll… I’ll steal all your Pokémon, and run off to another country. Wake up, Leon.” The threat is creative, but lacking any real malice behind it as you continue to shake Leon’s body. A few more rough shakes and he finally blinks his eyes open. 

“Where… where am I?” He mumbles almost incoherently as he blinks a few more times, lifting himself up on his elbows as he takes in his surroundings. A bit of drool falls from the corner of his mouth. 

It’s kind of cute, but also kind of gross, and Leon is still kind of on top of you in nothing but his underwear. You begin to wonder if he’s ever going to notice- but finally, his expression seems to come to life as his mind wakes up and he looks up and down your body again. 

“...Right. Yeah, my bad.” Grunting, Leon finally rolls off you and to the other side of the bed. You want to laugh at the pinkness of his ears and cheeks if you weren’t vividly aware you probably looked exactly the same, so you bite your tongue for now. Apparently, the both of you have agreed to ignore your partial nudity for now as Leon holds his head in his hands, keeping his gaze off you as he asks, “why on Galar am I so tired?” 

“Maybe we were supposed to die,” you snicker, sitting up yourself and bringing up the covers as you do, trying to stay somewhat-modest. “And now our brains are realizing we’re actually alive and it doesn’t know what to do.” 

Despite himself, Leon giggles. “Yeah, maybe.” 

The window shakes from more pressure of the storm outside. It gets your attention for sure, and you realize that you should probably check your phone to see when this storm would even end. Very, very slowly, you shuffle out of bed, analyzing the floor and looking at how scattered your clothes are. It takes your tired mind a minute to find your bag, but when you do, it’s not good news. 

Of course there’s no service. 

“Ugh,” you groan again. “This sucks.” 

“Put on some clothes,” Leon says from the bed and you roll your eyes.

“They’re drenched, mate, and so are yours,”

Leon’s head snaps up from his hands at that. “Really?” You’ve got no reason to lie about that but he scatters toward his clothes anyway, feeling the damp and dirty texture of them with his own hands, as if that would change their outcome. You’re definitely not checking out his butt as he bends over to pick them up, because that would be silly and childish. 

Very nice view, though. 

Leon sighs. “Of course. Don’t suppose this hotel has a store of any sort?” 

“Good one,” you laugh. “Probably not, but I’ll check the bathroom for robes-“

“Oh, let me do it,”

“Why?”

“I’ve really got to pee, mate,” 

“Right on, then,” you point him toward the direction of the bathroom and Leon immediately makes himself sparse. You can only laugh as you watch him go, and while you wait, you gather all of your wet clothes and start to hang them all around the room so they might dry while you wait out the storm. 

“Good news,” Leon comes out of the bathroom and you look over your shoulder, seeing him hold up two white, fluffy robes. He tosses one your way and you catch it easily, wrapping yourself up quickly and Leon follows suit. “So, roomie,” Leon raises a brow at you, hands on his hips, “what do we do now?”

You wave your phone that’s in your hand. “We got no service, so we should probably check in with that lady who was at the desk if she knows anything about the weather reports.” Your eyes move to look at the bed. “And maybe you should talk her into changing us to a room with two beds.” For both of your sakes. 

“Right,” Leon nods. “Let’s go, then.”

More bad news, though. The lady didn’t know anything about the weather other than the fact that these storms usually lasted a day or two, so, in her own words, ‘if you’re lucky, you won’t be here much longer, but I can’t assure that. Also, you’re charged per night, per room.’ 

And all the rooms in this shotty little hotel only had one bed, so the idea of getting privacy at night was a lost cause. You weren’t the biggest fan of wasting your money or Leon’s on two rooms, anyway, especially since the owner seemed to be somewhat rude. So that’s nice. 

‘At least she had food’, Leon had told you positively, and you suppose he was right. She had a rather weak list of a menu, but ‘at least there was a menu’ so you wouldn’t have to eat whatever berries you had in your bag. The two of you seemed to dance around the fact that you were going to most likely be sleeping partly nude again tonight, except this time you’ll both be a lot more awake and conscious of it. You distracted yourself with the mediocre food that tasted mildly burnt or undercooked, no in-between, and playing with what Pokémon could fit in your small hotel room instead until both of your eyes were drooping and you couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. 

“So.” You stand on one side of the bed, Leon on the other. Both of you stare at each other with your hands on your hips. 

“So,” Leon nods. 

“Should we… make rules?” Looking down at the bed and up at Leon, you know that technically you guys could try to stay on your side of the bed and probably not touch each other all night. 

But you were keenly aware that this man is a cuddler and you had a subconscious habit to scoot over to the warmest thing while you slept, so it seemed like physical interaction was going to happen one way or the other.

“I think that’s a bit pretentious,” he scratches his chin and shrugs. His nonchalance is downplayed by the heat on his cheeks and the sweat on his temple. “It’s fine if we… Cuddle. Right?” 

You suppose so. “I guess,” you purse your lips. “Typically friends cuddle with clothes on, though. And these robes are too awkward to sleep in.” 

“I mean, we did it before.” 

That’s true, but again, both of you were a bit delirious. But you can’t really argue with that, and you’re getting tired of dancing, so you nod and sigh. With a burst of courage, you square your shoulders, narrowing your eyes. Leon looks at you strangely before he squawks, his hands flying to cover his face when you remove your robe, the material falling and pooling around your feet. 

“Some warning!” He chokes and coughs. You laugh through your embarrassment, quickly getting on the bed and under the covers. 

“Come on. We could be sitting here all night. Lose the robe,” you cheer him on and Leon glares at you through the spaces of his fingers. “Lose the robe! Lose the robe!” 

“Stop!” He laughs and you giggle along, but it slowly ebbs and abruptly comes to a halt when Leon does, in fact, lose the robe. It’s too much to ask for him to not notice how you stare, so of course he does- humming proudly as he snuggles under the covers. “Speechless?” Leon smiles. 

“Don’t push it, I saw you ogling me the first time,” 

He coughs when you smirk. 

“Fine. Come here and cuddle me if you’re so smart.”

“Fine, I will!”

“Do it.”

“I’m gonna.”

The two of you lay under the covers, Leon’s arms open and beckoning, and you- frozen, not moving an inch. It’s not until he gives you a cocky look and starts to wiggle forward that you finally bite your lip and shove down your ego, rolling over to his side. It should be awkward, and it is, but only because the two of you somehow manage to fit together perfectly and that’s a bit odd. Your head resting against his collarbone, his arms wrapped snugly around your body, your legs entwined in a comfortable and fitting manner. It all happens almost instantaneously as if you’d both done this for years, as if it was a habit.

“Not that bad, right?” Leon murmurs in your ear and hums when your fingers trail little patterns across the skin of his waist and back. You mostly just did it to ease your nerves, not realizing how intimate the action was, but you figure it’s fine if Leon seems to like it. His hands explore your hair and the nape of your neck, the feeling making you curl further against him with a sigh. 

“Not bad,” you whisper. “Still odd.”

He hums but doesn’t prod the conversation along any further.

Several odd minutes pass, your breathing slowing as your body relaxes against Leon’s. Right as you find yourself on that warm, lulling cusp of falling asleep, there’s a brushing feeling against the top of your head. Leon’s body shuffles and lowers on the mattress and you’re about to whine a complaint about him moving around so much- but you’re silenced by the feeling of lips against your forehead. 

The hand that was previously teasing the skin of your neck trailed up and lightly grazed your cheek as Leon’s lips moved across your forehead to your brow. The actions are relaxing, yes, but your body tenses regardless because friends don’t do this. 

“Leon,” your whisper is like a shout compared to the dark silence in the room. Leon freezes up instantly at the sound of it and when you open your eyes, his head is angled in a way with his lips still pressed against your temple so you can’t see his expression. “...What are you doing?” You lick your lips nervously.

“...I thought you were sleeping.” Is all he has to say. You can’t say anything in reply to that because it’s fairly obvious to the both of you that no, you weren’t sleeping. “Um.” The air that leaves his mouth is hot against your skin.

From where your head rests, snug against his chest, you can almost feel the thundering pace of his heart more than you hear it. You idly wonder if it’s possible for hearts to beat in sync with one another. 

“Leon,” you say again when he doesn’t offer any explanation. He sucks in a shaky breath, his arm propping up from under him as he finally comes into your field of view; his eyes downcast and refusing to meet yours as he scoots away from you and lays his head back on his pillow. His hand lowers from your cheek down to your waist, touching your skin and then jolting back and insecurely moving against his chest, instead. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, “that was a bit creepy.” 

You remember the feeling of his heartbeat, and you don’t think that’s creepy at all. 

You reach your hand forward, tenderly cupping Leon’s jaw as he had done to you. Finally, he looks at you- his golden irises shining like glowflies in the darkness. The moment held between you now is a stark contrast to the harsh snowstorm outside- if you strain your ear, you’d be able to hear the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the trees. 

For now, all you can hear is your heart in your ears and the voice in your head saying kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. 

You’re aware that friends don’t do this. They don’t look at each other like this and they don’t press their lips against each other so softly- meekly. Lovingly. Maybe if you’re experimenting, maybe if you’re a different type of friend. But you and Leon aren’t like that, you’ve never been like that. 

So if things are different now, that’s something that’s a treasured secret between you, him, and the snow.