#an absolutely lethal face are you insane

[derangedthots]

feeling some type of way about user simpofnegan's new cowboy jacemond fic in the tags and by some type of way i mean desperately trying not to scream in my dorm room @ 2am and wake my roommate

[catsukiiee]

# POSITIONS & R&B.

౨ৎ class 1-a & class 1-b boys x masc/fem!reader

[fan favorites only]

wordcount ; 893

paragraphs ; 41

sentences ; 53

songs used ; songs listed by each character.

all of them are their canon ages (24+)

# CLASS 1-A

# TENYA IIDA [ blame by bryson tiller ]

Tenya doesn’t care what position you two start off in, as long as he’s able to get inside you and hear your moans, then he’s sated. Unfortunately, though, our glorious king, Tenya Iida, cannot last long in any position where he can't see your face. That man NEEDS to see your face; he’s absolutely addicted to seeing your every reaction, especially when he goes deep, sound is not enough. He loves having you in the eagle position, don't even try hiding your face in the pillows.

“I wanna see your face, please.��

# DENKI KAMINARI. [ let em' know by bryson tiller ]

Desperate. That’s the only word I have for this motherfucker. Wanna have sex? He’s down. In doggystyle? Even better. Trust he’s losing his mind as soon as he sees you bend over; expect to have your hair pulled and your shoulders marked with bite marks at the end.

“Look at my little masterpieces.”

# EIJIRO KIRISHIMA [ gang over luv by brent faiyaz ]

As gentlemanly as he is, he’s far from a gentleman in the bedroom; in fact, his favorite position is low doggy. Simply because he can push your face into the mattress and go ham. You want to try and crawl away? Nah baby, he’s grabbing BOTH your arms and locking your ass down; you aren’t running until you’re both finished and he’s tired.

“Why are you moving? Cmere baby.”

# RIKIDO SATO [ ballin by partynextdoor ]

Lethal. He’s strong as fuck, so you better expect to have your pussy absolutely obliterated after a couple of deep strokes, but just like Iida, he needs to see your face to cum, and he's not pulling out either. His favorite position to put you in is young stallion.

That's exactly why y'all have five kids.

“A few more won’t hurt, baby.”

# HANTA SERO [ things & such b partynextdoor ]

THIS MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE IS CRAZY.

The moment you mention wanting to have sex, you don’t even need to move to the bedroom, he loves fucking your brains out on the couch anyway, locking one of your legs over his shoulder while his hands hold your other leg down to keep your legs open so he can watch himself going in and out, your hands WILL BE TIED. Sero is obsessed with watching your breasts bounce to, it drives him insane and makes him finish in a matter of minutes, and he’s not stopping even after cumming first.

The messier the better.

“Look at you sucking me in, goddamn.”

# SHOTO TODOROKI [ jaded by drake ]

Probably the calmest man you know outside the bedroom, but when you’re both in the mood? Your back will be hurting. He loves seeing your back arched; if he goes too deep and you ruin the arch, he’s pushing you right back down immediately.

“What did I say? Lower it back down.”

# IZUKU MIDORIYA [ can i by drake ]

A whole power bottom, he loves having you on top of him, guiding your hips while you ride him. When he's feeling a little adventurous, he likes to grab your throat, forcing your eyes to stay on his as he starts to fuck up into you. HE'S A WHINER. The closer he gets, the whinier he gets.

“Can I cum in you? Please let me cum in you. I wanna cum in you so bad, please. Fuck, I'm cumming."

# KATSUKI BAKUGOU [ altitude by monetell fish ]

As soon as the “Wanna have sex” comes out of your mouth, it’s over for you; it doesn’t matter if y’all are in the living room, bathroom, kitchen, or out in PUBLIC. Trust, he’s going to find a way to have your ass folded and panting. He likes folding you into a pretzel just as much as he likes having you on your hands and knees.

Wanna try and move his hands? They’re locked behind your back. Start squirming and crawling away? He’s got a solution for that ass.

“Stop fucking squirming and take it.”

# HITOSHI SHINSO [ first fuck by 6lack ft jhene aiko ]

Gentle touches and hard deep strokes.

He’s far more focused on having his hands explore your body while doing it, might accidentally brainwash you when he asks, “Is this okay?” or “Want me to go harder? I can’t understand you baby.” 

He loves positions where he can see your face as well.

# CLASS 1-B

# NEITO MONOMA [ sweat by zayn ]

This bitch cannot accept defeat; all that shit talking about lasting longer only to cum inside you after a couple of pumps, seeing your back glistening and your ass rippling each time his hips snapped against you was enough to send him over after five minutes. Don't worry though, he keeps going until you're finished, and then keeps going... and going just to get the 'last word' in his own way.

“What was that? All I hear are mumbles, tsk tsk, what a shame.”

# TETSUTETSU TETSUTETSU [ feel it by jacquees ]

Oh baby, he LOVES folding your ass as much as he loves your reactions to him going balls deep each time. Pulling your hair, shoving his fingers into your mouth when you got too loud, and pushing your back down into a deeper arch just to hit it deeper when he has you on your hands and knees.

'Overstimulation is key' is his mindset when he's fucking you.

“Yeah baby, keep cumming.”

i think y'all can tell who i listen to a lot and which characters are my favorite by writing this 💀..

I'M SORRY IF THE SONGS DON'T FIT THE CHARACTERS </3 THIS WAS ORIGINALLY GOING TO JUST BE ABOUT SERO BUT THEN I HAD AN IDEA

TEACHERS ARE NEXT!

[lunavrse]

DREAM GIRL

CHARLES LECLERC

summary ★ : charles decides to take a page out of justin bieber's book. let's see how that works out for him.

category ★ : smau.

notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. everything is fake and unrealistic but thank you delusion. terrible flirting and the usual type of jokes/language you see on the internet.

me basically:

tagged: yourbestfriend

Liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend, user61 and 147 272 others

youruser so proud of ﹫yourbestfriend, she absolutely killed it and even took some cool pictures of me💚🥂 new video coming 🔜

View all 534 comments

yourbestfriend thank you for coming my love💚

youruser always😘

yourbestfriend it's not hard when you have such a gorgeous subject

youruser thank yewww

user6 stunning 😍

user12 you look amazing and ﹫yourbestfriend did fantastic!

user89 THE DRESS🤩

youruser i knowww, it's from meshki

user3 you're a beauty

user62 i need to know where the dress is from 🙏

youruser it's from meshki !

user56 can't wait to stare at the screen for the next few hours

user47 isn't her videos usually like 20~45 minutes?

user56 i know what i said

user1 oh !

user9 she did her big one😌

user11 pretty!

yourfriend serving face and body

youruser 🤍🤍🤍

user24 face card is lethal

user61 ﹫charles_leclerc

user60 ❤️🔥

user77 can we get a little commotion for the dress🗣️🗣️

Liked by pierregasly, user61, landonorris and 516 382 others

charles_leclerc who is she? if anyone knows, please tag her.

View all 3 272 comments

user4 nah, this guy

user26 this is crazy.

user92 WHAT IS GOING ON ?!!?!!

user5 is this real? like am i actually seeing this?

user15 he's got to have been hacked

user25 ain't no way

user13 actively going insane thanks to this actually.

user8 giving me flashbacks to december 8th, 2015

user14 i've got ptsd 😭

user10 from what? the war?

user49 bros acting like they were in a war💀

user8 it was a tough time to be a jb fan 😭

user3 IM CRYING

maxverstappen1 is this who we are, is this what we represent??

user3 max is done💀💀

charles_leclerc i said i had a plan, not that it was a good one mate

user1 wish it was me he's looking for

user45 that's me!

user86 in your dreams maybe

user58 get over yourself<3

user20 ﹫youruser

user67 She's so pretty, I want to cry

user76 she's so pretty, i want her

user48 ^^two types of people

user93 my brother in christ, stand up!!!

user50 BRO FORGOT HE'S FAMOUS😭🔥🗣️

user07 he's just like me fr

user84 mans is moving mad📢

user100 this is embarrassing

user34 think im gonna be sick

user30 don't be so dramatic

user51 i don't blame her

user70 she's obviously the prettiest girl ever🙄

user68 ﹫youruser !

user97 that's me !

user59 I'm gonna go cry myself to sleep now

user31 side eye

user29 who is she? she's stunning

user40 why is my fav youtuber in this picture

user46 iconic actually

user17 I know we can't see her face clearly, but she's serving

user21 i know her!

user37 what's her ﹫

user21 it's ﹫youruser, i follow her

user101 i want harry styles to do this but with me

user88 me too lol

user65 this is down bad behaviour

user201 thanks for ruining my day 👍

user248 it's giving wattpad vibes

user119 charles, look at me, this isn't you, think about the kids

user996 i was genuinely scared this was a hard launch

user123 alexa play that should be me

user8 how ironic

user147 ﹫youruser

user313 that's my girlfriend ﹫youruser

user05 praying for this girl cause the toxic charles fans, yikes😬

user000 gonna be delusional and pretend it's me 😁

user128 see i was so excited when i saw the notif and now i'm just 😐

user01 i cried when i saw this post btw

user306 imagine he posted a pic of asking who u are ﹫user43

user43 pls i would cry

user61 ﹫youruser

user007 idk and idc

user400 this is me if you even care

Liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, user4 and 253 953 others

youruser hello new people, where'd y'all come from?

View all 1 753 comments

yourbestfriend do you not check your notifications or...

youruser you know i don't

user245 girl...

user4 im in love with you lol

user500 just came from ur yt video, i'm so glad you had fun at the event!

user16 so this is the girl my husband is leaving me for🥲

user04 charles leclerc in her likes😭😭😭 ooh i'm sick

user287 then you're not gonna like this... he's flirting w her

user04 just fell to my knees in despair

user61 so real for that last slide

user56 pretty😍

youruser tysm pretty girl🤎

user791 charles mfing leclerc posted you!?!!!

user792 charles mfing leclerc liked!!

user793 charles mfing leclerc commented!!!

friend3 let's kiss 💋

youruser 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

user005 i too wish to kiss all the pretty girls

user800 idk what's going on rn but i loved your latest video, you and yourbestfriend were so cute and seeing you guys backstage together was sooo wholesome

user494 the part where they saw each other and started hyping each other up was my favourite

use712 her looking up a makeup tutorial 2 hours before she had to leave was so me

user55 he's in her likes y'all!

user942 thanks bud, i would never had noticed without u

user039 oh so she's dumb and ugly 😒

user44 and you're bitter and jealous...

user91 CHARLES LECLERC KNOWS YOU EXIST

use222 I wanna kiss you too 😞

user777 personally, i came from yt

user420 hi *louder than everybody else*

user311 what lip liner are you wearing babes?

youruser ﹫makeupbymario brown lip liner : )

user42 need a makeup tutorial!!!

charles_lerclerc my fault 🧍‍♂️

youruser i'll let it slide cause you're cute

charles_leclerc you think i'm cute? giggling, kicking my feet

youruser and blushing?

charles_leclerc mhmm, yeah

user0 THEY'RE FLIRTING!!!!

user456 deffo flerting

user942 YEAH?!???!!!!

user011 you guys know dms exist right???

user0 damn, i wanted to see this play out more 😭

user811 chill, my man is on this app

user35 she a baddie she know she a ten

user555 face card is never declining 😍

user411 do i want to date you or be you?

user87 so real!

user05 so we all saw them flirt right?

user942 yes😭

user28 STAY AWAY FROM HIM

user69 GET A JOB (directed to you user28)

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, user12 and 443 854 others

youruser day(s) n night(s)

View all 2 748 comments

user103 nottt her trying to be sneaky👀

yourbestfriend am i seriously losing you to a MAN???

youruser 'm always urs pooks💚

yourbestfriend tell loverboy that

user656 charles' new nickname is 🔥

user48 the way charles was here in the first few minutes of her posting💀

charles_leclerc et le prix de la plus belle fille te revient [and the award for the most beautiful girl goes to you]

youruser merci beau garçon

user12 Them speaking French to each other is all that I'm thinking about rn.

user707 A YT MAN?!?!?! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!!

user349 wish she was calling me a beautiful boy 😭

use117 i see you 4th slide, studious queen🤧

user824 charles try not to be a simp challenge

user107 level : IMPOSSIBLE

user41 ﹫user23 50 quid that's charles

user23 do you think i'm stupid?

user41 do you want an honest answer or?

user23 do you want to tell me your lastest test score or?

user41 ...

user23 yeah that's what i thought

user662 noooo pls don't be who i think it is

user35 she a baddie with her baddie friend(s)

user723 okay but the lashes ate💅🏾

user991 this is so weird, why are you posting him?

user75 you don't even know if that's him and you're already being defensive over a man who don't want you or even know you exist? don't pmo. get off her page!!!

user940 me when😔

user129 what about us?

user130 what about everything we've been through

user329 who is that man girl

user477 so are we just gonna ignore charles' comment or...

user452 just made me even more sure that it's him

user02 pretty girl<3

user170 if my future boyfriend don't bring me flowers on the first date, i don't want him🙅🏽‍♀️

user244 we get it, for some reason charles leclerc wants you😒

user311 ugh,,, the lip look always eats

user710 real, I'm obsessed

user536 is that charles?

user537 be serious, that is not happening

user539 ok 😐👍

user536 i actually can't be sirius, he's dead. hope this helps👍

user863 imagine that's not him and we're all just being crazy

user37 if that's not him, he's probably crying

user11 shittt, I would too, look at her

user29 he's probably the guy in the photos

user163 we all saw that interview right? it's definitely him

user288 yass, he looked so cute

user565 enough about charles, can we focus on how pretty she and her friends are??

user479 10s across the board fr

user504 I thought you were for the girls 😭

user716 i'm calling it now, that's a date w leclerc

user231 you look stunning 😍

user406 anyone noticed how he liked? he wouldn't do that if she went out on a date with someone else right?

user410 only everybody with eyes?

alex_albon yeah, no, he would be sobbing in a corner if that wasn't him

user410 ARIANA (Alex) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

use535 so he couldn't have fumbled, right....

user534 well...

user210 alex is just here to create chaos and honestly, i respect that

user73 please don't post your man again😒

user66 real!!! i come here to see you not him🥲

user711 love to see women getting treated right 😌

user385 slide 6 made me sick to my stomach

user858 he brought her flowers😫

user132 PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE

user705 that HAS to be him

user701 you never know, sometimes he is his own worst enemy

user898 did NOT 🚫❌ like this

user999 what if this was my last straw

tagged: charles_leclerc, youruser

Liked by user, pierregasly, user0 and others

allthingsleclerc local (monégasque) man seen out with mystery woman who sources claim is yn

View all 843 comments

user624 why is she still serving while blurred

user210 liked by pierregasly 🫣

user833 charles' friends are exposing him 💀

user0 that's definitely ﹫youruser

user04 serving cunt and he's there ig

user547 just becoz it's blurred doesn't mean you can't tell that it's her

user622 he looks miserable, he doesn't like her😭

user595 what? are you of sound mind?

lunavrse pls don't look too closely at the picture 😴

user923 What's the square root of 64?💅🏾

user700 they're just minding their business, why can't y'all do the same?

user674 it's a public place

user700 ☝️🤓 it's a pUbLIc PLaCe

user103 no bc they're lowk matching 😭

user933 it's so over😭😭

user72 that's so cute🥰 who wants to have a sleepover on the highway with me?

user33 that could just be a coincidence?

user172 i actually don't care but THAT DRESS, i need to know where she got it from

user32 oh ! i didn't realise that she was actually his type

user79 ... i wish there was a side eye emoji

user18 oh that's not-

user32 nonono in a sense that he usually dates like brunettes

use499 wdym, 'm pretty sure she is brunette?

user03 we know what you meant lol

user270 wish i could live in delusion

user320 he's probably paying for everything 🙄

user419 and? he's literally a millionaire, if he wants to spend his money on his (alleged) girlfriend let him. it's not your money

user232 girl, pipe down

user890 I don't see the problem?

user52 why do you assume that? do you know her financial situation? or you a close friend of either of theirs who knows what's going on? if the answer to these questions are no, shut the fuck up, thanks<3 peace and light to you.

user562 try not to say mother

user587 [failed]

user612 Why can't she stay away from him?

user258 why can't you mind yr business?

user718 first picture of them out together and they look great

user106 her rn: damn i'm the only bitch serving cunt here😭😭 omg😭 i'm so embarrassedd😭😭😭

user211 she should be at the club, not on gossip pages😭

user261 fuck she looks too good, i wanna kms

user211 real

user586 took a social media break and came back to this😃 great !

user404 i wanna say parents🤭

user648 this actually made my day

user446 Gonna sleep on the tracks tonight🥰

youruser and you're kenough for me❤️

charles_leclerc thank you barbie !

most beautiful barbie ever❤️

landonorris this ken's job is simp

charles_leclerc you'd be a simp too if you could actually date such a stunning woman but you can't 🫶

landonorris you're a cruel, cruel man

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 749 365 others

youruser me gusta la mar🏖️

View all 2 836 comments

yourbestfriend wish i was on a boat right now😔

youruser i literally invited you and you said no?

yourbestfriend i have to face unimaginable horror (work)

user12 that boat looks familiar

yourbestfriend you look stunning babes💚

youruser tysm, means the most coming from uuu pookie 💚

use501 forget about charles and give me one(1) chance pls

charles_leclerc me gustas tú

user779 SCREAMING

user784 chill, it's a song lyric

user779 yeah but have you heard the song???

charles_leclerc gorgeous view, and the sea looks good too i suppose

youruser my view was much better but thank you<3

charles_leclerc i doubt that. je pourrais te regarder pendant des heures sans jamais me lasser. [i could look at you for hours and never get bored]

user055 someone is coming for your smooth operator title ﹫carlossainz55

user964 Charles Rizzclerc???

yourbestfriend she's screaming btw

youruser no i'm not

yourbestfriend then why do i have a vn of you screaming?

charles_leclerc 😊

user96 it's quiet🤐... no back talk

user71 stay focused my brothers, we must stay focused

user53 i am looking respectfully, i promise

user131 when will someone tell me the things he says to her🙃

user677 everytime you post a picture my jaw drops

yourfriend oh my gorgeous coco butter melanated caramel skinned goddess, please notice me🙏🏾

youruser oh you've got jokes🤨

yourbestfriend GOODBYE😭 im showing this to ur man

yourfriend you really thought you did suttin🤣 he knows who he's dating😋

user22 I would sacrifice my favourite duck plushie for just one chance to be in your presence 🙇‍♀️

youruser that's so sweet yet so disturbing pls keep your plush safe

user22 Yes queen, whatever you say 🫡

user803 if you look close enough, you can see me drowning myself in the ocean 🤗

user70 forget vroom vroom boy n give a g(ay)irl a chance😫

user312 charles in his simp era

use314 love to sea it

user312 that's a terrible pun and i hate that i laughed

user2 you know who has a boat??? charles

user057 the way that you're actually glowing in these🫠

user717 i love the hat, it just kinda brings the whole thing together

lilymhe you look amazing! and i love the bikini!

youruser tysm🫶🏾 i love u!!!

user742 a friendship i never knew i needed

user335 Since when did Lily and Yn know each other??

user386 since they're both wags, it only makes sense

user360 but yn's not a wag

user386 yet

user109 hi lol

user634 her body is teaaa

user7 did someone say body-ody-ody-ody

user19 he can do so much better than you

user482 I know you want him but I can be so much better than him in so many ways, I swear, please please please please *begs excessively*

user888 Does Charles have her post notifications on or what?

user938 i'd say yes cause how else would he like her posts so fast

user064 the swimsuit is everythinggg

user229 it's giving hot girl summer ⛱️

user177 i could start a whole new ocean with the amount of tears i've cried

Liked by user621, youruser, pierregasly and 927 375 others

charles_leclerc me gusta el viento

View all 3 276 comments

user905 he knows exactly what he's doing

user200 Not him having the exact same meal picture as her

user080 let's talk about the matching captions

user621 most beautiful man I've ever seen

youruser me gustas tú

user331 Y'ALL ARE NOT SLICK

user331 in fact, you're both so sick for playing with us like this

user774 we know you like the wind, we've seen your hair

user405 jajajaja

user607 okay, you might have nibbled with this a little

user775 jail!!! do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars

user379 what she said wasn't even that bad nor untrue

youruser now THIS is a view. tu as ta place au louvre avec toutes les autres grandes œuvres d'art. (you belong in the louvre with all the other great works of art)

charles_leclerc oh ! thank you, i am so normal about you and this comment

pierregasly great, now he's glitching and going crazy in the group chat again

user2 AGAIN?!?

alex_albon spoiler alert ⚠️ he was not normal about this

user125 who blames him? not me. instead, i am insanely jealous

user457 WHY ARE THEY BOTH BREAKING OUT INSANE LEVELS OF RIZZ?

user508 oh he's so fine🤤

user933 the matching captions and matching replies,,, god I'm NOT your strongest soldier

user36 yesss king, give us beach!!!!

user078 well, boat but yes!!!

user649 he said im speeding up the soft launch

user573 by 0.25x speed

user649 at least it's something?

user378 honestly i will take these crumbs instead of absolutely nothing

user269 i LOVE crumbs 🤤 mmhmm😋

user120 is really considered a soft launch when they make comments like THAT?

user801 someone sedate me, im unwell🤒

user903 he's trying to thirst trap us into ignoring the 4th slide

user754 well it's working😫

user028 charles!!! te amo 😘

user753 gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure like a rat/mouse with a giant block of cheese

user136 One like and I'll drown myself.

user112 why did you like it🤨

user136 Damn Nessa, mind ur business😐, why did YOU🫵🏽 like it?

user388 them posting sea/boat pics on the same day? THEY'RE TOGETHER

user33 hear me out, it could be a coincidence

user388 *shakes you violently* HOW MANY COINCIDENCES DO YOU NEED

user770 i think we're focusing a little too much on the wrong thing here

user911 if i said what i was thinking, i'd be banned from this app.

user762 can't wait to see you at the next race! praying for a podium finish🙏!

user63 Who are you taking pictures of Charles???

user894 Gee that's a tough one/s

user720 he didn't really think we'd ignore the 4th slide

user402 i am here to do some good ole fashion SLUT shaming🗣️📢

user309 Love them trying to out-compliment each other

user61 he has such a gorgeous smile

user7 actual post of you and ﹫youruser when?

user633 nobody wants to see that

use105 speak for yourself

user708 😍😍

user808 i don't know who's luckier, her or him

user809 both, both is good

user007 hope you're having fun destroying my heart😭😭

user169 charles please, please, do you need a dog because i swear i can bark. in fact i am barking and drooling violently rn

user196 you really get me

user45 he's taking pictures of me y'all 🫶🏼

user502 🥵🔥

user19 you can do so much better than her, i promise

user67 i cried a little when i saw your post of her was still up

user64 I feel like a Victorian man™ seeing a woman's ankle for the first time 😵‍💫

user664 feeling like how teachers think boys feel when seeing a girl's shoulders

user325 don't forget to keep applying sunscreen!

user04 he's so pretty, i'm sick to my stomach.

user758 he tryna kill people i swear

user99 honestly, i think he looks so at peace/happy and i'm grateful for that

user74 you're honestly ruining my life by not being mine 😭😭😭

user981 that looks like too much food for 1 person

user523 that's because im with him🤗

user296 screaming, crying, throwing up, banging my head against the wall, wailing like a banshee.

tagged: youruser

Liked by youruser, user291, landonorris and 973 638 others

charles_leclerc play all mine by brent faiyaz

View all 4 726 comments

user39 just fell to my knees in a Walmart

youruser this is not the soft launch we agreed on mon bijou

charles_leclerc just wanted to show you off mon ange

youruser oh !

user505 ALL MINE BY BRENT FAIYAZ!??!! oh it's really over 😭

landonorris can't even get picture creds for the 4th slide

user444 you didn't even get a reply 💀 everybody point 🫵🏼 and laugh

landonorris just looked at your bio and it says ln4, i really is your own fans😞

user528 can't believe she invented green 😮‍💨

user553 them in the photobooth, fuck, is it hot🥵🥵 in here orrr

youruser who is she???

charles_leclerc oh you know, just the love of my life

youruser kicking my feet, smiling SO hard right now. je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime.

charles_leclerc je t'aime encore plus mon ange❤️ (i love you even more my angel)

user378 The launch we've been waiting for

user957 the way they're looking at each other, parting my hair with a knife 🤪

youruser you're obsessed with me

charles_leclerc well, yes! am i not supposed to be??

user39 no shame in admitting it, i respect that🤷🏽‍♂️

user291 serving cunt like she got a master's degree in cuntology from servington universitea

user239 charles, can you fight because i feel like i'm gonna steal your girl

charles_leclerc ... you have five seconds to delete this🙂

user805 If I speak...

user806 charles would probably block you

user575 charlessss i can make you happier, trust me

youruser no, i don't think i will

user575 my bad girl, didn't think you'd see this.

maxverstappen1 you guys are so sickening, please get a room

charles_leclerc who even invited you???

youruser wow max, i thought you liked us

maxverstappen1 YOU DID

maxverstappen1 not enough to watch you both be so touchy sorry

yourbestfriend my stunning girl💚

charles_leclerc i think you mean, MY girl

yourbestfriend i'm not arguing with you, ﹫youruser please come get your man

youruser i think 'm gonna stay out of this...

user332 when will someone post me to my fav brent faiyaz song🫤

user333 manifesting getting posted to stay down 🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾

user334 my wedding song frfr😩

user018 why did daddy's home start playing 🛐

user12 FINALLY

user618 is your girlfriend single?

charles_leclerc read that first part again for me

user466 KHCJTSURS 5HE HARED LAWNCH

user540 not one word spelt correctly, open the schools!!!

user843 who is cutting onions😭😭???

user785 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM

charles_leclerc feeling really blessed 🙏🏻

user912 this is so unserious 💀

user440 love love love 😘

user54 love a black woman from infinity to infinity!!!

user113 in the words of dove cameron, i could be a better boyfriend than him. trust🙏🏾

user53 NOOOO YN come back to meeee!!!

charles_leclerc i think she's good here, next to me

user17 can't breathe!!!

user17 hottest gf alive

user17 she looks too good i can't breathe 🫠

user27 showed this to my therapist and she's finally gonna let me kill myself

user065 to be shown off like this,,, i beg

pierregasly the fact that we were together in the last slide...

charles_leclerc but is this a friend group hard launch?

user513 call this hard launch an ugly twink the way it cannot be topped

use488 CALL IT WHAT NOW🎤🎤

user83 the wording is CRAZY

user48 not Charles beefing with everyone in love w his girl💀💀

user259 just bought a whole house with the 1st pic. her face card is insane

user613 kissin the screen😙

charles_leclerc kissing her👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

youruser ok that's enough

user613 oooohhhh you got scolded 🫵

user6 LETS GO TO PARIS😋

user084 the audacity to use that emoji, ijbol

user40 i hate you

user40 i'm sorry that was jealousy speaking, so happy for you❤️

user069 i - no words

user675 charles, I heard she throws rocks at orphans

charles_leclerc i'm not an orphan but she can hit me😊

arthur_leclerc NO SHAME😭

youruser i do not throw rocks at children, ﹫charles_leclerc hi

user675 yeah, i lied but he's something...

Liked by charles_leclerc, user61, yourbestfriend and 985 732 others

youruser think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else...

View all 4 662 comments

user73 didn't i say don't post your man 🥲

charles_leclerc who is that guy?

youruser he's just this guy i'm hopelessly in love with

charles_leclerc he's very lucky❤️

youruser we both are❤️

user23 we all know who it is girl🤣🤣🤣

charles_leclerc i can't believe you didn't post a single picture of me where my face is visible 😪

youruser i hate you, you know we agreed on the soft launch

charles_leclerc you hate me? so enemies to lovers😏

youruser 🤦🏾‍♀️

user704 she's so mean to him, what does he even see in her

user202 you know there's this thing called banter and he's a grown man who can make his own decisions?

user525 can't wait for the future videos of her at any of the grand prix races

user4 he's got a grip on you in every picture i've seen of y'all together so far, like chill lil bro, she's not gon run away🤣🤣🤣

user206 he's actually just like me bc if she was my girl...

yourbestfriend the best launch because we don't have to see his face

user180 ur so real ily

yourbestfriend jokes, but I'm happy for you both💚

youruser love you💚

user16 i'm so😭 happy😭 for you😭 both😭

user444 lover gyal era!

user407 must be nice to young, sexy and in love

youruser it really is🥰

user350 do y'all need a third, a dog, a maid, or anything really because i can do it all!

user110 shattered.

user12 feeling giddy asf like i'm the one who got posted😵‍💫

user61 you two look great together😊

youruser thank you aoife🤎

user61 you KNOW MY NE?$?$?_? SHE KNOWS MY NAME JEJEJEJ IM SCREAKING

user08 lord, i see what you've done for others 🙏🏼

user940 when will it be me.(with you)

charles_leclerc never, not even in the next thousand lifetimes 🤣

user838 CHARLES???

user839 OHMYDAYS?!?!

user516 the rope in my backyard looks so tempting

user133 I love k. so much

user48 feet? for free? in this economy?

lilymhe leave him for me, let's run away together💒

youruser packing my bags 🛍️

charles_leclerc ﹫alex_albon please come get your girlfriend

alex_albon lily... what is this

lilymhe as the saying goes, never let your boyfriend stop you from finding your wife

charles_leclerc NOT MY GIRLFRIEND THO

youruser boooo tomato tomato tomato i'm throwing tomatoes🍅🍅🍅

charles_leclerc mon ange???

user909 lily was cooking ♨️🍳

user102 remember everyone, he is NOT a mountain, he CAN be moved!

user00 Donatella VERSACE💜

user6 i love the eiffel tower

user315 because you're parisian, right????

user57 i don't think that's the reason💀💀

user510 do you want another boyfriend?

user204 i just think it really weird that you're not posting his face when he literally posted multiple pictures of you on his account, like what are you hiding?

user832 i think it's weird that you don't know how to mind your own business? like it's crazy that you think you're entitled to a reason. this is her account to do what she wants with it, even if she posted him, you'd complain. so please, just shut up.

user278 not my boyfriend having the audacity to steal my girlfriend from me🫤

user98 honestly if I looked like her, i would not know how to act

user122 facts

landonorris what is with you and your boyfriend not giving credit for pictures i take???

youruser this isn't about you right now🫶🏾

user444 at least you got a response this time

landonorris again, for someone who has ln4 in their bio, you sure like to bully me

user444 you think this is bullying? i can actually bully you if you want

landonorris no, i'm good👋🏻

user303 that one girl was right about you liking the wind a lil too much

user926 yeah this is cute and all but can i land this backflip off a cliff?

user376 those flowers are so pretty 🤍🎀

user401 driving home in the wrong lane tonight🤣

user527 the way i was right the whole time and now my friend owes me money 🥰

user830 you guys are such a cute couple

user010 this would have been such a good soft launch dump of we didn't see his hard launch 😅

youruser added to their story.

user09 posting a man to MITSKI?! oh it's serious, ur actually down horrendous

yourbestfriend hard launching on ur story when you soft launched in a post is crazyyyy🤣🤣

youruser hard launching when i see a ring 🤗

nah, im kidding but if they want to see him, go to his profile🤷🏾‍♀️

yourbestfriend IKTR 💅🏾

user215 now my man's gonna expect me to post him on my story like this😑 but i forgive you queen 🙄

landonorris finally made it in a post!

youruser finally you can stop complaining 🫶🏾

landonorris why are you and charles so mean to me

youruser because you deserve it, hope this helps🙌🏾

francisca.cgomez double dating with you was so fun! can't wait to do it again 💞

youruser yes! gonna go bother charles to make plans for another one soon 😁

user121 the sun drawing around ur eyes🥲 crying, that's so effin cute

yourfriend not you being all sentimental with the daniel caesar song AND the puzzle pieces

youruser damn, can't even do something nice🧍🏾‍♀️ see if i post you again

yourfriend you're so dramatic pookie

user531 the bear and the flowerss, please where can i get man like that😖

user479 so many gorgeous girls🥰

user06 glad you're surrounding yourself with people who make you happy and bring out this lovely light 🤎

yourfriend2 when the plans finally make it out the group chat🙌🏾🎉

youruser love that for us🤧 but i swear getting stuck in that elevator made me reconsider all my decisions leading up to that moment

yourfriend2 the 1st hour wasn't that bad tho

yourfriend3 we will never be free🙁

youruser please shut up😭😭

yourfriend3 no bc you didn't listen when dr umar said "SNOW BUNNIES NEVA🙅🏾‍♀️❌"

youruser i do not see it🧘🏾‍♀️

𖦹 𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𓂃 𖦹

⤷ end note ‧ ★ : halfway through making this i went "hmm, this should be a lando smau" but then i continued doing this. it posted like 5 times which freaked me out and was supposed to be done ages ago but yeah. also french is from deepl. enjoy.

[silentglassbreak]

an idea for a fluffy blurb? you've been dating Noah for a few months and he finally gets the courage to say "I love you" 🥺

Oh my loooooove! I think this would be the cutest shit everrrrrrr.

Imagine, right? You and Noah met, maybe somewhere totally normal? At a bookstore or a movie theater? Since we know the man likes to see movies alone?

It’s not always concert sightings or music-related.

Cause Noah, under all the talent and fame, is a normal guy! He has normal wants and needs…and nerves.

He had the hardest time introducing himself, so you had to. You had noticed him staring, an unsure smirk on his lips, and decided…hey, maybe you should give it a shot? Maybe the cute boy with the boba brown eyes was worth talking to?

Oh…he was.

And he struggled to make the first move. It had taken four dates, three meals, two movies, and a shared bowl of ice cream before you finally had to ask, “Are you planning on kissing me? Or did I read this all wrong?”

And when he did…the sparks that erupted put the Disneyland finale show to an absolute shame.

Needless to say, Noah didn’t know how to initiate, so sex took…longer than you would’ve liked. You told yourself you’d hold out. You’d wait until he grew the nerve. If he wasn’t ready to take that step, you should respect that right?

But you knew he wanted it. You could see the hunger in his eyes. The angle of his stares. The way he licked his lips when you borrowed his t-shirts or wore your swimsuit in front of him. His hand always lingered a little on your waist, and you silently begged him to just take it.

But…to your dismay…three long, dry weeks will make a girl desperate. So you begrudgingly caved, and jumped him one night while you both spent hours watching movie after movie on his couch.

He invited you in with open arms, and the experience was lethal. You were hooked. He was never getting rid of you.

So that’s how you ended up six months in, standing on Pier 49 in San Francisco, smiling at the seals, with Noah’s arms around you, chatting with Folio about fish and whatever else.

So many soft touches, passionate kisses, longing stares.

But still…no mention of that one word.

You felt it. You felt it long ago. Did he?

Why wouldn’t he say it? Noah clearly had trust and commitment issues, you had learned. But he could’ve left ages ago. He had a sparkling career, money, looks that could kill. He could have any woman he wanted.

The man bled confidence and tenacity…until it came to you.

With you, he was timid and shy, carefully calculating words. He never said anything he didn’t mean or could be misunderstood.

So, he hadn’t said it out loud for a reason, then. You had decided it just had to be that he didn’t feel that way toward you. And that made your sides split, and your heart sink every time you thought about it.

It would break you when Noah decided to finally move on. Find something that he did feel that way about.

You put it out of your head, for now. At least you had today.

“Ready?” His voice was low in your ear, and you turned, swallowing the lump forming in your throat.

“Sure am.”

You rode the ferry off to Alcatraz Island for the prison tour. When he asked what all you wanted to do on their off day in the city, all you could think about was seeing it up close. He vowed to take you there.

The tour was mesmerizing, taking you through the cell blocks that still stood, getting to hear the insane history of the once-feared penitentiary.

The tour group took you out through the warden’s office and gave a ten-minute break before they began heading down the hill. You approached the rail near the edge of the island, where just below the rocks striated up out of the water at least twenty feet down. The water of the Pacific splashed angrily against the stones, the cool spray barely reaching your face.

As he always did, Noah circled his arms around your body, his face resting in the crook of your neck before his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You smiled, staring off at San Francisco’s skyscrapers in the distance. “Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve always wanted to see this.”

His pressed his nose against your cheek, and you could feel him smiling against you. “Of course.”

Your eyes scanned the deep gray waters below. “Can you believe men tried to escape by swimming through that?”

“Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

He hummed, head lifting to gaze down at the raging waves.

“Well, I don’t know.” You listened to his voice as he continued to stare at the ocean. “I read on one of the plaques in there that one of the escapees? He did it because his wife was just across the bay waiting for him. She was pregnant with his kid, and he swore he’d see them.” He sighed heavy, “He was doing life for killing a man.”

You followed his eyes to the sharp rocks below. “Wow. That’s awful.”

He shrugged. “Is it? When he was caught, he told the police he would do anything to see the woman he loved.”

You nodded, humming. “I mean, I guess? It’s still insane.”

“Yeah, it is.” His eyes looked up, glancing over to look at your face. You didn’t see this, eyes still trained on the water. “But I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.”

This made you look at him. “You would?”

His eyes were so bright, but his face looked unsure. That same shy smirk pulling at his lips that you’ve come to recognize.

“If I was here, and you were on the other side of that bay,” His arm lifted to point across the water, your eyes following. “I’d jump in this water a thousand times over to get to you.”

Your heart stopped, your knuckles turning white where they clutched the railing.

“You’d do that?”

His hands moved you, turning your body so you stood facing him. “For the woman I love?” He flashed his teeth then, all sense of uncertainty dissolved.

“I’d do whatever it takes.”

IDK I GOT CARRIED AWAY BABE SORRY.

[silverzoomies]

Screwball

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: smut, slow burn, kissing, hand jobs, loss of virginity, temperature play, mutant reader, ice powers, porn with plot, clunky writing

word count: 14,151

a/n: im so late posting this. i meant to finish this one like a month ago. but it's already september !! and a heatwave fic seems so out of season !! oh well !! i hope someone out there enjoys this. i went through hell tryin' to finish it. but i'm pretty happy with the way it panned out,,

apologies for the usual: clunky writing, slow as fuck execution, potentially ooc dialogue, etc etc etc kbgsjbdghsoiheg

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Westchester, New York had never seen such a record breaking heat wave.

And in all his reckless, fast paced years up to the ripe age of thirty, neither had Peter.

His fragmented memory is jam packed. Cluttered with disorganized checklists of every place he’s ever been. Not that he’s bragging or anything. But Peter’s basically seen the entire world, and then some. If one were to count those gnarly, X-Men space missions. He’d gone places no non-mutant could ever conceivably dream of reaching. From the deathly cold peak of Mount Everest, to the blistering sands of the Sahara desert itself.

Even with all that collected experience, Peter’s a hundred percent sure; he’s never faced summertime heat as insanely lethal as this.

Okay, sure. Maybe declaring Westchester as hotter than the Sahara might be a bit of a stretch. But to Peter’s credit, this heat wave is dangerous enough to warrant a citywide advisory. Which, in layman’s terms, means: don’t get ballsy. Unless you wanna end up fryin’ like an egg on the sidewalk.

The weather outside is so grisly, in fact, the X-Men themselves had to call their latest mission quits. Imagine that! Crazy, right? A fierce team of mutant heroes, capable of taking on behemoth sized sentinels. And even they didn’t dare another second in the heat.

Peter detached himself from the concept of religion ages ago. But thank the mysterious powers above, whoever they may be. Because he was legit two seconds away from collapsing to the ground, in a boiled heap of skin and bone.

He stumbles off the X-jet on wobbly legs. And no joke, Peter swears his muscles have somehow melted into jelly. It’s supremely embarrassing, the way he struggles to keep up with the team as they move ahead. They all stop before going upstairs, waiting to reconvene with Xavier. Organized in a careless, half circle; the X-Men look as though they’ve returned from an Olympic marathon. Their bodies exhausted, and blanketed in buckets of sweat.

Naturally, on account of Peter’s super dope, mutant genes; his body functioned at a nonstop rate of super sonic speed. As a repercussion, his average body temperature burned leagues hotter than any non-mutant’s. It wasn’t abnormal for Peter to dread the tormenting heat of the summer season.

In the blazing eye of a dangerous heat wave, swarming the city like an apocalyptic storm; Peter’s absolutely certain – like, for sure, he’s teetering on the brink of death. A miserable, stewing-in-your-own-sweat kinda death. Leave it to Logan to recite the eulogy at Peter’s funeral. No doubt, Wolvie would have nothing but positive things to say about Peter after he died. Most definitely.

Peter might be a teensy bit freaked out actually. Since he had no idea he was even capable of experiencing heat exhaustion. It almost makes him paranoid. Like a hypochondriac with a chest ache. In an attempt to force his recovery, Peter chugs through exactly thirteen bottles of dollar store water in a flash. The source of his stash? A stainless steel, mini fridge in Hank’s lab.

He knows Hank’s gonna be totally peeved when he finds the fridge raided clean. But Peter doesn’t bother worrying about that right now. Instead, he makes a mental reminder: Water bottles. An IOU. One he’ll probably forget about within the next two seconds. And never get around to fulfilling.

Professor Chucksters is talking, but Peter can’t find it in himself to listen to a single word. Whatever momentous info the ol’ baldy drops, flies a thousand miles over his feverish head. Peter cranes his neck back in overheated agony, lazily chugging Hank’s last remaining bottle of crisp, cold water. The smooth bite of that cold down Peter’s throat makes him exhale with relief through his nose.

Halfway through, he stops to shower his head in the rest. Letting chilly droplets rain down over his silver hair. Sharp tingles erupt down his neck and across his shoulders. Peter shudders, humming in delight to himself.

Oh. Shit. Wait…

Peter then comes to the regrettable realization that, in a heatwave so hazardous; water is a necessity to be shared.

No shit, blockhead.

Now, mind you, Peter isn’t known for his forethought. He’s pretty overzealous. Had he taken time to stop and think for a hot sec…yeah. Sure. Maybe he should’ve been more mindful of his suffering teammates. Oopsie daisies.

Much like a careless dog, Peter shakes off the cold drops soaking his hair. Sprinkles of water splash all around him, with Jubilee caught in the line of fire. She jumps in place with an abrupt, but silent exclamation of ‘ew!’ Shooting Peter a look of burning fury. Damp strands of Peter’s hair fan over his eyes. He runs his fingers slowly through them to give his forehead some air.

Maybe Peter’s a little delusional. Because he swears on his life he catches a red tint in Jubilee’s cheeks. She scoffs, like she can’t stand his bullshit. He throws her a wink. A beat later, she smiles and rolls her eyes.

Peter smirks. Lucky for him, his speedster charm has yet to fizzle out.

The team waits patiently for their opportune moment to flee. It’s obvious they’re all pretty antsy. Probably since they’re dying to change into something lighter. Better fitted for Satan’s city wide celebration of hellfire and brimstone. Anything but the jumpsuits, at least. But that’s just a hunch.

In Peter’s own personal opinion? The most ideal scenario would be to strut around naked, in nothing at all. Sounds awesome, right? Freedom from the suffocation of needless threads! However, societal standards and modern customs definitely wouldn’t allow such debauchery. Not to mention, Peter isn’t super keen on the idea of peeping his teammates in their birthday suits.

Except for Raven, maybe. He never gets tired of looking at those scales. All that blue. Nice.

Oh. And…you. Frankly, Peter’s willing to risk it all just to catch a glimpse of you in the buff.

He swallows a thick lump forming in his throat, sneaking a lightning fast glance in your direction. Observing you with a gawking gaze, Peter ignores the way his heartbeat kicks up to roadrunner speed. Faster than fast. Like, cartoonishly fast. It’s ridiculous.

You’re completely impervious to any heatwave debuffs. Lucky lucky. Standing there without a care in the world, you listen attentively to professor Charlie Brown’s ramblings. Since you’re so distracted, Peter lets his speedy eyes shamelessly wander. Trailing down the glittering, icy blue of your jumpsuit. Uniquely personalized to coincide with your wintry gimmick.

Which doesn’t at all explain why it’s so inappropriately skin tight.

Peter feels himself choke on his next breath. But he’s quick to blame it on the weather. Yeah. It’s just the heat that’s stifling him. Nothing else. Get real, dude.

The sparkling material of your suit hugs your figure a little too perfectly. Complementing every irresistible curve. Peter always thought you looked so ludicrously fine in that suit. If not way, way, way too distracting. Sometimes, he found it ultra hard – ignoring any euphemisms – to maintain focus during missions. Usually because your frosty ass came twinkling in his peripheral, throwing off his mojo.

But let’s chalk Peter’s lack of focus up to his chronic ADD instead, ‘kay?

Heck. Maybe it wasn’t the ADD’s fault. At least, not entirely. Like, cut the bullshit for a sec. Peter doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience. He’s never gone any further than a dozen heated sessions of heavy petting. And from time to time, though he hates to admit it; it haunts him. The way he’s so suppressed. Overflowing with pent-up desire.

Thirty years old and still a virgin? Clock’s ticking, Quickie. No wonder he can’t take his hungry eyes off your body.

Speaking of your body.

Damn, is it hot in here? Or is it just you?

It’s most definitely not you.

Your body naturally radiates a refreshing aura of frigidity. It’s no coincidence, the way your teammates linger so closely in your proximity. Peter can’t really blame them for doing so. You’re the human equivalent of an icebox. Even a touch of your finger could turn the entire X-mansion into a winter wonderland. Part of him wonders why you haven’t done so already. Since you’d be sparing everyone the infernal anguish of this awful heat wave.

Maybe you’re just as absentminded as he is.

Anyway, right about now, Peter desperately yearns to be a long lost tub of neapolitan. Stuffed deep inside your metaphorical freezer.

Which…sounds way dirtier than intended.

Fuck. Alright. Moving on.

Tugging at the collar of his jumpsuit, Peter fights to catch his breath. The fierce heat from outside has somehow seeped its way into the X-Men’s base of operations. Almost like an act of god. Or more like a punishment, maybe.

In desperate need of relief, Peter looks to you once more. He finds himself struck with an ingenious, lightbulb moment then.

A blink, and he bolts, appearing directly behind you. A faint gust of wind flutters your hair. But the breeze fails to even make you flinch. Peter isn’t the least bit subtle with his actions, as he presses his burning body a little too closely into your back. And hoooooooooooooo mama! The sweet relief of your icy presence is so worth any consequences, should they arise.

You whip your head around suddenly, giving Peter a weird look and a once over. He can’t really blame you for staring at him like that. Sure, you’re both teammates. Even family, one might argue. You’re both fighting for the same cause. But you haven’t built an inseparable bond with Peter or anything.

Honestly, he’d be totally down if you did. But that’s neither here nor there.

Peter always thought you were pretty damn cool. In more ways than one, if your glacial mutation was included in the mix. If he were more honest with himself, he would’ve acknowledged his dumb, boyish crush on you an entire ice-age ago. Oh well.

He’s still too much of an awkward spaz for his own good sometimes.

You seem…confused. Staring at Peter as if silently asking him a question. If he had to guess, it’s probably something along the lines of – what the hell do you think you’re doing, you handsome scoundrel? Peter exchanges your puzzled look with an uneasy smile. Dramatically, he fans himself with a hand. Hoping you get the hint, he pokes his tongue out to playfully express his suffocating torment.

Thankfully, you pick up what he’s putting down. As you turn back around, you giggle cutely. Peter breathes an alleviating sigh. He’s left to bask in the glory of your wintry aura. So freeing, and so, so cold. He could kiss you as a thanks, if only you’d let him. But you’ve already directed your attention to Xavier’s painfully long lecture.

Wait. Seriously, how long was this talk supposed to last? It feels like a million years at this point and-

Peter checks the Star Trek watch on his wrist. It’s only been…five minutes. Huh.

The gathering of ye olde X-council draws to a close. At long last! Xavier wraps up his spiel of heroic efforts , world peace , and wonderful work everyone. Bla bla bla. Don’t get Peter wrong. He harbors a lot of respect for the guy. Any other day, and he would’ve found those words somewhat awe inspiring. If not the slightest bit misguided.

But today? Professor, dude, now’s not the time to be preaching words of wisdom. Your nerd club’s literally cooking from the inside out. Give it a rest.

The team wastes no time. As soon as Chuck’s given the go-ahead, they’re gone. High-tailing it upstairs as fast as their tired legs can go. Which isn’t all that fast. At least, not by Peter’s standards. But he’s hella impressed with the enthusiasm.

Unlike everyone else, you move at a frustratingly slow pace. Walking behind you feels akin to waiting too long in a DMV line. Something Peter’s never had to do a single day in his life. And he’s not about to start now. It’s monotonous, and borderline infuriating. But his heightened impatience is probably just another consequence of this outrageous heat.

You take your sweet ass time – and holy moly, did you have a sweet ass – as you ascend to the first floor of the X-mansion. Peter follows after you like a lost puppy, not too far behind. On your way to – presumably – your room, you climb another, dreaded flight of stairs. And since when were stairs a hindrance to a speedster like Peter? He’s never once felt winded making a simple ascent like this. Ever.

Peter’s growing more and more restless. His skin feels sticky and uncomfortable under his jumpsuit, but he can’t rush home to grab a change of clothes. He’s unwilling to risk a race through whatever hellscape lies in waiting outside. No matter how little time it takes him. Not while his lungs are cooking to a crisp.

He aches for the touch of your icy hands. Plain and simple. Nothing to it. Nothing sexual. No strings attached.

Unless…you had a preference for strings. Peter would tie them around his wrists and move like a marionette puppet if you asked. Shit, you want a whole show? Bring out the dancing Muppets.

Midway through your ascent, Peter appears in front of you. He stops you suddenly, leaning casually with his hand against the wooden railing. His other hand rests on his hip. Lamely, he forces himself to act as naturally as he can. Which is virtually impossible, considering the circumstances. But even so, Peter throws you his signature grin and nods his head.

Be cool, dude. Be cool. Ease into it. Just try not to think about how you’re literally baking to death here.

His overheated exhaustion is impossible to miss. Even a dense chimp in a blindfold could sense something’s off about him. The quick rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a dead give away. Revealing how labored his breathing really is. Trickles of sweat race in a tense competition down Peter’s temples. Warm heat pools in his cheeks, and his skin appears ghostly pale.

That…might be the reason you gaze at him like you’re worried sick. As if you’ve seen a haunting, silverette ghost. Peter looks like he’ll pass out sometime within the next five minutes. Realistically, he should probably seek medical attention immediately. But he fakes his aloof casualness anyway.

“Heyyyyy, what’s the haps? Where’re you headed in such a rush, Screwball?” Peter asks, somewhat condescending.

“Screwball?” You narrow your eyes, puzzled, “Oh, y’know, my room probably? I might take a nap. Why?” You laugh despite your confusion, crossing your arms. Fixing Peter with a look that only suggests one thing: suspicion.

Fair enough.

He nods, rapidly tapping his fingers on the railing.

“Cool. Coooooool. I can dig it. Nothin’ wrong with that. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna spend a summer afternoon like this lazin’ around in bed, amiright?”

Good. Nice and easy. Peter should probably stop there, and speak no further. But his hazy, addled mind works on autopilot. The words race past his lips faster than he can keep up.

“It’s hot as hell today too. So, you could totally sprawl out butt ass naked and-”

Too late.

“...Yeah?” Based on your expression alone, Peter knows he’s made a total ass of himself. By some miracle, you don’t deck him with an icy fist of freezing fury. Not that you seemed the violent type to begin with.

“Wait, no-” He abruptly pauses to try and make sense of his thoughts. A stifling heat in the air swarms his head, drowning Peter in hot molasses, “Oh. Gah! What the hell am I even saying? Sorry, that was-uh…that was totally weird, right? Uh, lemme start over-uhm-”

Peter clears his throat, masking his mortification with his speedster charm. Super popular with the ladies. Tested on the battlefield of life and approved. A five star rating. No need to question why he still hasn’t managed to get laid, like ever.

“Sooooooooo…anyway. Y’wanna hang out?” He asks, cheesing a dorky grin.

“You never ask me to hang out with you. But today, of all days…that’s when you do? Everything’s closed, Peter. Y’know, because of the heat advisory? I mean, clearly…you look like you know.” You gesture to Peter himself.

A sweaty sheen coats his skin. He really should’ve taken a cold shower in the communal washrooms. At least before confronting you like this. Man, he really screwed this up. If this interaction falls flat, Peter’s just gonna bail. Maybe he’ll try and stuff himself in that mini fridge of Hank’s. He’d be way better off there. Until Beastie finds him, anyway.

“Uh, yeah? Pffft …no duh. I knew that. But, so what? Just ‘cuz there’s some lame stuff happening outside. That doesn’t mean we can’t do somethin’ totally cool inside. Know what I mean?” Simple and subtle.

“Hm…” You think on his offer for a moment. But it feels like he's aged another thirty years by the time you reply, “At least let me change first, okay? You probably should too! I know you gotta be burnin’ up in that jumpsuit, sweetheart!”

A dopey smile plays on Peter’s lips, pressing into his dimples.

So…sweetheart, eh? That’s a new one.

Politely, you push past Peter to make your way up the remaining stairs. Without any forethought or plan of action, he cuts you off again. He slides across the floor into your visual radius, worn sneakers squeaking along polished wood. Wait…why’s he losing his balance?? Peter doesn’t usually lose his balance. Shit.

Ah. he’s lightheaded now. Great.

You’re close enough that Peter can feel the tempting coldness radiating off your body. Oh, man. If only you’d envelop him in your frosty arms completely. You could even lay on top of him like a blanket of snow post avalanche. Anything. Please. Peter is so beyond desperate to beat the heat, he’d let you pelt him with a flurry of snowballs. At least then, he wouldn’t feel a spark away from igniting into flames.

Staring at him with an impatient look, you tilt your head and furrow your brows. Awkwardly, Peter shifts on his feet. Thick humidity overflows his lungs, close to bursting with the force of an atomic bomb. Breathing is near impossible at this point. Peter may as well bite the silver bullet, before he finally kicks the bucket.

Godspeed, or however the saying goes.

“Hi…sorry. Okay-uh…hear me out, please?” He begs. Peter brings his hands together in front of him like he’s praying at the altar, “This is gonna sound weird. Like, next-level weird. Yer probably gonna think I’m a huge creep. And I’m not tryna freak you out ‘er anything. ‘kay? Like, I totally get it if yer not down for this. ‘Cuz, y’know, we’re not really all that close. Plus, you probably have other stuff you’d rather be doin’ than helpin’ out some loser like me, but-” Peter rapidly stammers over his words.

Way to go, ponyboy. Graceful as ever.

Holding out a small hand to politely silence Peter, you utter his name in the sweetest tone he’s ever heard. Hushed, soft, and so gentle. Your voice is the equivalent of candy to his eardrums. He kinda really digs the way you sound when you talk. So courteous and nice all the time.

Be still, his palpitating heart. Seriously. Calm down. Or he’s literally gonna die.

“Peter?”

“Uhyeahwhat?” He stammers again.

“Are you…okay? You’re sweating like crazy. You look like you’re gonna pass out, dude.”

Peter throws you an ‘ok’ sign with a hand, his grin sluggish.

“Peachy keen, baby.”

He swears with every fiber of his sweltering soul that calling you ‘baby’ made you blush. But, y’know, since he’s a little bit doubtful, he might have to test that theory again. Just to be a hundred percent sure. Break out the ol’ chalkboard and sketch some x’s and o’s like a scientific diagram. Top of the line research. He’s the leading psychoanalyst in speedster charisma. 

“You sure about that?” You ask, arching a brow, holding an easygoing smile.

Taking a few steps closer, you bless Peter with your emanating chill. He doesn’t at all expect you to raise your hand. Peter swallows a thick, blistering lump in his throat. Frozen in place, he watches in slow motion as you bring the tips of your frosty fingers to his chest. Brisk, winter cold spreads in fractals of frost over his jumpsuit.

Freezing heaven on scorching earth. It’s sorta…poetic, in a way. Peter blinks rapidly, caught in a mind-altering daze for a beat or two. Your touch really is like a miracle cure, alleviating that stifling thickness suffocating his lungs.

“W-Wow. Okay.” He chokes awkwardly, cheeks flushing. His skin tingles under his jumpsuit, “Wow. That’s cool. Literally cool.”

“Peter?”

“Mmmmmmhmmm?” He hums, slouching his shoulders. Peter shamelessly relaxes under your wintry touch.

“You’re suffering in this heat, aren’t you? You need me to help you out?”

Stupidly, like a colossal, doofus dumbass, he shakes his head. You’re offering the exact thing Peter came to you for. A golden opportunity. He’s really hit the jackpot now. All he has to do is face the music, and admit it. Just be honest. Say it, doofus!

“Huh? Naaahhhh! Pffft …why would-...hey, I told ya! I’m juuuust peachy, Screwball! Don’t gotta worry about me!”

Hanging in the air by a delicate string, is a tension Peter’s too stunned to identify. Taking another step closer, the swell of your breasts meets his chest. The hand you’ve placed over his speedy heart trails tantalizingly slow, up to Peter’s flushed cheek. His dark eyes flutter closed, and he almost falls face first into your touch.

“I can take care of you, y'know? I really don’t mind, honey. It wouldn’t be an issue.” Your soft voice exudes genuine compassion. The sweet, gentle attention burns his skin to a boiling point, his veins melting underneath.

That unidentifiable tension in the air permeates, thicker than summertime heat. Despite the relieving cold you’ve given him to bask in; Peter finds it even more difficult to breathe. It confuses him, the way you act so nice and considerate. And now? He’s melting entirely.

Literally. No dramatizations. Peter can feel his damp skin drooping slowly off his bones.

He’s already close enough to death as is. What’s with the tenderness and affection, huh? Were you going out of your way to make sure he dies faster? Have some humanity, for Geddy’s sake. Jeez.

“I-uh…I…” Peter stutters, at a loss for words, “I wouldn’t wanna put you out like that, but…uh…”

“Alright. Whatever you say.” You steadily pull your hand from Peter’s face, “Offer’s still on the table, though!”

Wait. Wait. Wait. Why are you pulling away? No, no, no! You can’t pull away! Not yet! Come on!

All at once, the soothing cold you’ve gifted Peter disappears. No thanks to the steaming fever brought upon by his overheated, speedster body. He nearly whines at the loss, pulling his lip between his teeth to stifle any embarrassing noises.

It takes Peter only a millisecond to give in. With a slower reaction time than usual – not really all that slow, from an outside perspective – he darts his hand out in a flash. Peter lightly grabs your wrist, stopping you from retracting your hand any further.

“Wait-” Peter groans, acting hasty. Frustrated with his own awkwardness, he rolls his eyes, “...I’m…I’m literally dyin’ here, okay? Like, no joke. I think my heart might actually explode. And I…kinda can’t breathe right now? So, uhm…can you just, like, touch me? Just a little bit? But not-” He panics suddenly, eyes widening, “N-Not like-...not in a weird way, I swear!”

He almost tacks on a suggestive ‘unless you really want to,’ but decides against it. Better not, lest he dig himself into a deeper hole. So far under the Earth’s surface, he’ll come out the other side. Not a bad idea, actually. Maybe it’s cooler over there.

“And I’ll totally make it up to you. I promise. Pinky swear. Cross my heart, hope I don’t die of heat stroke.” He insists.

You giggle again, cute as can be. It’s not the least bit condescending either, thankfully. Peter feels the weight of a billion megatons finally lift off his shoulders. With a nod, you take his hand in yours. A surprisingly intimate gesture, since the two of you have never done anything quite like this before. Hell, you’ve never spent time with each other one-on-one outside of the X-Men.

“C’mon, you silly goose.” You lightheartedly joke.

Your affection catches Peter off guard. Not that he’s got a problem with it. No siree. In fact, his heart might’ve skipped a few beats. A lazy smile plays at his lips, as you guide Peter down the hall to your room in your usual, slow stride.

Oh, sweet, frosty sanctuary calls.

As soon as Peter steps inside, you quickly close the door behind you. Feeling somewhat out of place in the unfamiliarity of your space, Peter distracts himself with the posters on your walls. He casts quick glances over the silly knick-knacks occupying your desk and dressers. Turns out, your room has a lot of personality. Neat.

He overhears a faint click suddenly. Whipping around to find you locking the door, Peter narrows his eyes in thought.

Huh.

Maybe he’s overthinking. Probably. But doesn’t locking the door like that suggest some…implications? Then again, Peter could be looking at this in all the wrong ways. Like, okay, if he were being realistic? More than likely, you didn’t wanna risk someone walking in. Not while you got handsy with one of your teammates in your room. Totally reasonable, he thinks.

But then-

Leaning your back against the door, you steadily unzip your glittering suit. Pulling the tiny, snowflake zipper down just enough to expose the swell of – Oh, hellllloooooooooo snowy cleavage. Where in the world have you been all his life? Peter has to refrain from whistling.

Okay. You totally did that on purpose, didn’t you? That was completely intentional. And Peter’s definitely not reading too far into things. He’s most unequivocally not letting his attraction to you affect his perception of a simple gesture. Not at all.

He can’t control his lingering gaze. Peter’s droopy eyes follow the slow movement of your hand, his mouth falling agape in a heat-exhausted stupor. Somewhere around him, he can barely make out your voice. But it’s muffled. All noise. Akin to a teacher from a Peanuts cartoon. Bwah Bwah Bwah Bwah.

Peter blinks.

“Huh? Sorry…you say somethin’?” It’s a failed attempt at a recovery. Peter taps his temple, “Gotta couple screws loose in here right now. Y’know, heat’s kinda gettin’ to me.”

You arch a brow, gazing at Peter like you see right through his bullshit. And yeah, he’s gonna go ahead and bet you probably do.

“Uh huh?” You scoff, giggling, “I asked if you’d be more comfortable on the bed, doofus.”

Moving closer to your bed, you bend over to adjust the fuckload of plushies resting on the blankets. Wow. Check that out. It’s like a Toys R Us threw up. A colorful mess of too many plushies for Peter to count. There’s barely any space to lie down, even if he wanted to.

Doing a quick double take, he glances between you, and your occupied bed. Peter sways where he stands, light headed from heat exhaustion. His brows shoot up in unexpected surprise. He whistles through a suggestive grin.

“Waiiiit, seriously?” Peter huffs a charming laugh, “Wow. Didn’t peg you for the direct type, Screwball. Y’wanna take me out to dinner and a movie first?”

“Dinner and a movie? I dunno, Peter. You’re askin’ for a lot.” You giggle again, acting nonchalant. You make your way around the room to a record player on a corner shelf. Neatly organized vinyls are aligned meticulously next to it. As you poke through your collection, you continue, “But sure. Fuck it, right? Why not! What movie?”

Distracted, as he usually is, Peter glances curiously around your room. Framed photos, postcards, and letters adorn your walls. Pinned carefully in place. Some of the photos, he suspects, are of your family. Others, more than likely friends. There’s even a few group photos of the X-Men together, bringing a fond smile to his face.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah?

Wait. Shit. You’re talking again. And Peter totally missed whatever you said.

“Huh?” Peter darts his head in your direction, watching with half lidded eyes as you set up the record player.

“Dude.” You roll your eyes affectionately, chuckling, “I said, is it hot in here, by the way? Just wondering. Since I can’t really tell.”

“Oh-” Peter exaggerates a sigh, “It’s really bad, babe. Like, sooo bad. I’m definitely gonna die if you don’t come over here and put those icebox hands on me, like, right now. Seriously.” He snickers, falling limply backwards into your bed.

Several plushies bounce with the impact of his weight. Some tumble onto the floor. Others topple onto Peter himself, but he leaves them be. He clutches a Beatles Blue Meanie plush to his chest. Breathing in quick, muggy breaths. Peter finds he’s even more consumed by the record-breaking heat. It’s a miracle he hasn’t disintegrated into a pile of ash by now.

“Howard the Duck.” Peter adds, staring at the ceiling in cloudy thought. He twirls the Blue Meanie in his hands.

“Pffft…what?” You laugh, “What are you even-”

“That’s the movie I wanna see. When you take me out? I wanna watch Howard the Duck. Oh! And I want popcorn too. Can’t watch a movie without popcorn. But it’s gotta be one of the big ones. With extra butter. And some candy-”

“ When I take you out. C’mon, really? Dude, didn’t critics totally pan that movie? I swear, I saw that in the paper just recently! It’s such an awful movie, Peter!”

“Uh, yeah? And so what? That’s kinda what makes it the ultimate date move, babe. Check it out – we could have the most awesome time makin’ fun of it.” Peter throws his head back further into your bed, peering at you from upside down, “Ooooh! Did you hear about the duck boobs scene? No joke. I kid you not. It’s got duck titties.”

A mellow tune slowly encompasses the quiet, muggy space of your room. Peter instantly recognizes it from the first few beats alone. Obscured by Clouds. Pink Floyd. …Cool. Peter’s pretty fond of that album himself. It’s not necessarily his favorite, per se. But it’s awesome enough. And it’s perfectly fitting for the mood of sweltering, summertime vibes too, he thinks.

“I didn’t until now.” You sarcastically scoff. Meandering towards Peter on your bed, “Spoilers, dude.”

He brings his head up to look at you. Spreading himself out, Peter knocks more of your poor plushies to the floor. Carelessly, he drops the Blue Meanie plush. Letting him fall to his ultimate demise. Au revoir, his blueness.

“Right. My bad.” He snickers. After a beat, Peter adds, “I love this album, by the way. It’s a nice vibe.”

In your eyes, he must look a lot like a beached starfish. Sprawled out and helpless. Drying to death in the heat of the summertime sun. Peter has his long legs hanging loosely off the edge of your bed. Moving in between those spread legs, you carefully climb onto the bed. Your knee stops just short of his crotch. As you inch yourself further over his body, Peter’s eyes widen. He blinks slowly, feeling hot beads of sweat roll down his temples.

“I know you do.” You grin down at him with a warm gaze. Peter’s lungs threaten to shrink into nothingness.

“Y-You do? Huh…no shit?” He appears put off, raising a silver brow, “How’d you know?”

You shrug, keeping your grin, “Guess I pay more attention to you than you think, hmm?” Perched over Peter with a palm to the sheets, you brush the silver bangs out of his eyes, “You got any limits?”

Peter blinks again, dumbfounded.

“Lim-...uh, what now?”

“Limits, y’know. Like, where am I free to touch? Anything you’re not comfortable with?”

“Oh. Uh…you can…touch me anywhere? It’s whatever yer comfortable with. Yer the one doin’ me a favor here.” he gazes at you with an unsure, sleepy eyed look. Nervously nibbling his lip, tasting the salt of his sweat, “Do you-uh…do you do this kinda thing a lot? Fer…other people?”

“Nope.” You blink down at him with that genuine, sweet smile again. Shrugging, “Just you.”

A subtle aura of addictive cold radiates from your body like a light. Peter can feel the faintest hint of it as you move in close. It teases him, promising sweet relief from the merciless summer heat. With his lips parted, Peter stares longingly into your eyes. His smile reveals a glimpse of his front teeth, as he snickers in disbelief.

“Uh huh. Alright. See, now I know fer sure yer just messin’ with me.” He bashfully laughs.

“Not yet I’m not.” You throw him a coy wink. Innocently, you ask, “Where do you want me?”

Which could so easily be misconstrued. Dammit.

Yeah. So, this one’s definitely on him. Peter’s inexperienced, sexually charged instincts immediately jump somewhere totally depraved. He’s a little ashamed of that fact. But hey, who’s the one climbing over him on their bed? Who’s the one fluttering those pretty lashes? Giving him those flirtatious smiles. Come on. Really? No wonder he’s lost his mind in the gutter.

Where do you want me?

Peter’s dark eyes immediately dart to his crotch for less than a second. But it happens so fast, he doesn’t doubt you missed it.

“Uhhhhh…I dunno. I didn’t…I didn’t really think about it? But, you cou- HHHHHHhnnnnnnnaaaaaaa-”

Frigid cold invades the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, as you press your hand gently there. A tiny thumb brushes his adam’s apple. Shivering, Peter bunches his shoulders. Tingling chills surge across his body.

“That’s good. That’s g-great. Awesome. Totally awesome. Thanks. Thank you.” He chokes in a rush, instantly melting into your icy touch.

Relaxing his body in your bed, Peter’s head falls loosely back. He breathes a long sigh of relief, his mouth falling open in a dopey smile. His eyes flutter closed as he laughs. Steadily then, your hand travels lower. Grazing frosty fingertips over his chest. Your fingers soon find the zipper of his jumpsuit, and you tug it down a little further.

That heavy tension from earlier grows a thousand times more distracting. For whatever reason, the mellow melody of Pink Floyd’s ‘When You’re In’ only seems to heighten said tension. Almost like it’s setting a certain kinda…steamy mood. 

Did Peter wake up in some cheesy, VHS porno? He’s definitely living the plot of one.

Peter flutters his eyes open, met with the sight of you on your knees over him. Your gaze appearing heavy, focused intently on your task. You nibble your lip in thought, looking fine as hell while doing so. Pressing your small palm to his chest, you finally grace him with glorious cold again. Right over the sweaty abomination for a shirt he wore under his jumpsuit. He’s almost embarrassed that you’re even touching it.

Using your glacial gift, you manifest more coolness. Allowing it to spread all over Peter’s body. He sucks in a harsh breath, freeing his lungs from their heated asphyxiation.

There it is. Sweet, icy sanctuary, at long last.

“Ohhhhhhhh …” Peter groans, “Nice.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat, his veins straining under his skin. Digging your nails firmly into his chest, you manifest snowy trails of glittering frost. The biting cold nips at his skin over the fabric of his shirt. Like walking chest first into an arctic glacier.

“Is this helping you much at all?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“You have nooooooooo idea, babe.” Peter breathes a grateful sigh, “This is, like, so amazing. Thanks. I owe ya one.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

Your freezing hand meets Peter’s sweaty forehead, pressing into his skin. Like you’re checking his temperature with the gentleness of a mother’s touch. Humming to the music, you card your cold fingers through his damp locks. Firmly massaging Peter’s scalp.

Peter lets his eyes drift shut again. His mouth falling open out of his control. Leaving his hair, you bring your attention back to his body. Watching him carefully for any sign to stop, you tug the wet, frost nipped fabric of his shirt. Bunching it up over his neck, exposing his broad chest.

He shoots an eye open, fixing you with a curious look. Feeling hot skin under your soft palms, you slide your hands over his raised pecs. Your fingers gliding in a touch as delicate as powdered snow. It sends sharp chills down his spine. A sensation he’s quickly finding extremely addictive and all too pleasant.

Instantaneously, something clicks in Peter’s brain.

A beat, and your touch goes from relieving, to downright pleasurable. Even sort of…arousing. Peter immediately reacts, arching his back in an abrupt jolt. He laughs his surprise through a broken moan, tossing his head back for the umpteenth time.

“O-Oh, fuck.” He chokes, loud enough to disturb whoever occupies the room next door.

Peter’s so righteously fucked now. Because he really shouldn’t be as turned on by this as he is. It’s just…he’s so boiling hot. Miserable as hell. And not only are you finally breaking him free of hellfire’s tyranny. But you’re also touching him sorta intimately. Peter’s really not immune to attention like this. Especially not from a stone fox he’s super attracted to.

His nipples harden under your frigid spell, perky against the tips of your fingers. Peter hisses, whimpering another moan without meaning to. Your only response is to giggle. Curiously, you tilt your head. Quickly taking notice of the way Peter’s noises have changed in pitch.

They’re more like moans of ecstasy now. Because, well, they sorta are. Whoops.

Lowering your hips, you suddenly move to rest on Peter’s lap. Just to give your knees some much needed rest. His hammering heart threatens to burst straight through his ribcage. Rising from the bed onto his elbows, Peter tries to protest.

“Wait! Wait, don’t sit- hoooohhhh.” A throaty groan slips off his tongue.

The full weight of your lower half drops onto his lap. Right over the stiff hard-on in his jumpsuit, doing little to hide itself. Your ass is so outrageously cold against his crotch and… oh, fuck. That’s so perfect. Peter groans again through a shuddering breath. Limply, he lowers himself onto his back. Hoping to conceal his shame, he brings his hands to his face.

Except, there’s no denying his obvious desire anymore.

“Auuuuugh.” Peter curses himself, “Shit. I am seriously so, so sorry-” Your name plays on his tongue in a desperate, apologetic tone, “I-I really…I dunno why I’m so-uh…I’m not usually-”

“Hey, don’t worry! It’s okay. Believe me, I don’t mind…”

Gosh. There you go again, doing that thing. The thing where you act so unexpectedly understanding in the face of an awkward situation. But even then, Peter can hear your smooth voice waver. Despite all you try to hide, he can tell. You’re just as nervous as he is, but ultimately better at masking it.

He doesn’t see it, but you gaze down at him rather suggestively. A fresh, newfound sense of lust lingers in your eyes. Raking your nails teasingly down his chest, you draw numbing streaks of snow, making him wince. The frost manifests seamlessly from your fingers, tickling Peter’s ever burning skin. It melts instantly, leaving beaded droplets.

“Does it really feel good when I touch you like this, pretty boy?” You tease, that waver in your voice barely leaking through again.

Wooooah. Okay. Okay. Hold up. Rewind. What?

Peter isn’t hearing you wrong this time. He couldn’t be. It’s impossible to misread the dirty tease in your tone. In the blink of an eye – rapid fire speed – the blood pooling in his cheeks vacates straight to his dick. Peter’s cock twitches, pulsating under his jumpsuit – under you – and shamefully unveiling just how horny he really is.

The high-speed boom boom boom of Peter’s heart skids to a deafening halt. His exhausted lungs finally collapse. Squeezing out his final remnants of life. If someone were to hook him up to an EKG, he surely would’ve flat-lined. Sayonara, suckers. This foolhardy speedster’s at the end of his road.

But…what’s this?! Peter’s still alive and breathing? Who could’ve predicted such a phenomenon??

He lowers his hands from his flushed face, peering over the tips of his fingers. His black coffee eyes blown exceptionally wide.

“Woah. Hold on now. What?” Peter snorts. He shakes himself free of total shock, frantically nodding, “Uh, yeah? It feels…really fuckin’ awesome, to tell you the truth.”

“Mhm?” You hum a sensual vibration, biting your lip, “Mind if I try something bold then?”

Peter arches a curious brow. You’re kind of a little minx, aren’t you?

“Literally? You can do whatever you want with me, babe. I’m all yours.” He heaves an exasperated laugh.

A smirk dawns your pretty lips, and you shimmy backwards over Peter’s lap. Until the bulging swell of his hardness lies before you, squirming under his jumpsuit. Teasing him, you drag your biting touch down to his crotch. Euphoric cold dances across his pelvis. You stop short of his hard-on, and Peter draws in a ragged breath.

“Awww…feelin’ a little stiff, sweetheart?” You coo in a sultry sound. Peter feels his blood pressure drop to a life-threatening degree, “Let me help you out.”

Testing the metaphorical, frozen waters; you bring your frigid palm over his bulge. You watch Peter for any sign to retract your hand, fixing him with an intense look. But to your surprise, his cock doesn’t soften under your frosty touch. Not like one would expect. Oh, no. The opposite happens, in fact.

“Mmmmhh…oh my god.” He moans, his front teeth clamping hard into his lip. Jolting in response to his own sensitivity, he rolls his hips into your small hand, “Please…”

You squeeze the thick length of him as well as you can over his jumpsuit, applying more pressure. Awkwardly stroking his dick with your wintry tipped fingers. The bleak touch you cast sends chills racing through Peter’s veins, and sharp pleasure rises in his groin.

“F-Fer the record, by the way, this is not how I expected this to go.” Peter shivers, breathlessly chuckling.

“Oh, no?” You mutter, climbing over Peter on your knees. Glacial breath ghosts his lips. You lean in close, giving his cock another firm squeeze, “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Fuuuuuuck no, baby. Not a chance.” Peter groans his reply, lifting his hips. Yearning for more of your gratifying chill. Another wintry wave of cold seizes through his groin, and Peter’s eyes roll back, “Holy shit. That’s it.”

Peter finds himself a little conflicted. His brown hues can’t decide if they wanna gaze into your own, or stare longingly at your lips. In the past, Peter thought about those same lips more often than he’d admit. But to be so up close and personal with them like this…

“I’m not even gonna lie to you, Screwball. I really wanna kiss you right now.” Peter admits defeat. Even in your polar proximity, humiliation burns his cheeks with the force of hellfire.

Knitting your brows, you narrow your eyes. And for a painfully long instant, Peter thinks he’s finally fucked up. As if confessing his desire to kiss you was somehow a step too far over the line.

Is there even a line left between the two of you anymore? Or did you both trip over it the moment you gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes?

You lean in a touch closer, quietly chuckling. Cold puffs of air fan over his lips, a needle-thin space away.

“You’re so silly, y’know that? Why do you keep callin’ me Screwball?” You ask, placing a tantalizing kiss to the corner of his lips. Like the touch of a delicate snowflake, “You make it sound like you think I’m crazy.”

“Well, okay, first of all, you gotta be some kinda crazy. ‘Specially if yer screwin’ around with me.” Peter jokes. He’s beyond winded under the teasing brush of your soft lips, “S-Second of all, it’s an ice cream thing. You ever-uhm…stop by an ice cream truck before?”

Why’s he even doing this? Making casual conversation like it’s a date at the diner. Peter half expects you to pull away. Since this is the least sexiest thing he could be doing. Amazingly, you remain where you are. Trailing kisses across Peter’s cheek, down to his ear. Leaving feather-light sparkles of frost in your wake. Still, they melt within seconds.

“Yeah. Of course I have. So?” You mumble.

He tenses as goosebumps descend down his neck. The tight grip you have on his dick doesn’t let up. Any words Peter planned on saying seem completely lost on him now.

“Uhhhh…Screwball’s the little…it’s got the-uh…gumballs at the bottom. It’s, like, a cone-”

Righteous work, casanova.

“Right. And I’m Screwball because…?”

Damn you, little minx! You know why. The answer’s totally obvious. There’s no way you’re that dense. Nah. You’re just so set on teasing Peter, tempting him to nervously ramble. Like you find his embarrassment…humorous or whatever. Pfffbbtt …

“You messin’ with me? It’s ‘cuz it’s ice cream, yeah? No duh. And ice is, like, yer thing, babe. I dunno. It made more sense in my head.” Peter laughs in spite of himself, “Listen…can I please kiss you? Before I make even more of an ass outta myself?”

In this position, Peter can’t kiss you. Even though it’s all he can think about. You’re too busy mouthing at his neck, grazing his skin with your teeth. Fondling his cock in freezing strokes, making him whine under his breath.

Up until this very moment, Peter’s hands remained mostly still. He’d dig his fingernails into your blankets, as the pleasure of freezer burn simmered in his pelvis. But he held himself back from ever really touching you. Since this little interaction wasn’t supposed to end up like this to begin with.

But now? Well…shit.

You knead at his junk like you’re making biscuits, flicking your icy tongue across the skin of his neck. Eliciting another husky whine from deep in his throat. Peter’s pretty sure, judging by your forwardness; you wouldn’t mind so much if he touched you just a little, right? Like, you totally wouldn’t protest if he brought his large hand to the back of your head, would you?

He threads his fingers through your soft hair, tugging your head back gently. Pulling you from his neck, just so he can meet your wanton eyes again. There’s a single second of hesitation, as both of Peter’s hands claim your cheeks. That second seems to stretch for what feels like an hour, while Peter memorizes the features of your face. His racing, speedster heart leaps at the sight.

He swiftly pulls you down for a kiss. It’s clumsy as all get out. Initially, anyway. But if there’s one thing he can actually pride himself on? At the very least, he’s had a lot of experience with canoodling. Kissing you comes as naturally to Peter as running does. His skillful lips and tongue guide yours effortlessly. Coercing you into a heated makeout session. Against his own, your lips are frosty cold. Like drinking crisp water straight from a chilled glass.

Or…it’s more like he’s lapping his tongue across some kind of…slushy ice cream. Like…a Screwball cone, maybe?

No?

Fuck it. Whatever. The only difference is, you don’t taste anything like cherry. You taste like you. And Peter would argue that’s almost better. Almost. Cherry’s pretty hard to beat. It’s a tough competition.

As you fall victim to his bitchin’ makeout skills, Peter indulges himself. He touches you the way he’s dreamed since forever and a day. His hands glide thick fingers down your chilly body. Feeling every glittering facet of your suit under his fingertips. Meeting the curves of your hips, he squeezes them firmly.

“Mmmmm…this is awesome.” Peter breathes, “This is really fuckin’ awesome.” He hums into your lips, stifling a moan by kissing you again. You stroke his clothed cock a little faster, and he chokes, “O-Oh…yer so awesome. Fuck.”

“You’re really awesome yourself. But I’ve always thought that about you.” You titter, nuzzling his nose so tenderly, “The others on the team? Yeah. They’re alright. But you? Peter, you’re the coolest.” You admit with a bashful smile. After locking him in one more, passionate smooch, you pull away, “Sexy too.”

“W-Wait, really? Are you bein’ serious right now?” Peter asks, stupefied. He furrows his brows. Another beat, and he forces himself to smirk proudly, “I-I mean…well, yeah. Pssshh …of course. Why wouldn’t you think that? I’m the bomb, baby.”

Peter keeps his hands on your hips, feeling your ravishing curves. Stroking them with his thumbs. They fit so perfectly in his grasp. And Goddamn, Peter doesn’t ever wanna let go. Mark his words. Right here, right now. He’ll glue his hands to you forever if he has to.

Lowering your ass over his crotch, you keep your erotic gaze focused on his. Your intense eye contact never seems to break for even a moment. Pressing into the exposed, damp skin of his chest, you brace your freezing hands over Peter’s pecs. A filthy moan teases your lips, as you roll your gorgeous hips forward and back. Grinding into his needy bulge.

Oh.

This is happening now. Fuck yeah.

Peter squirms in place, tightening his hold on your hips. His nails tear at the tiny sequins of your jumpsuit, digging into the sparkling material. It’s such a needlessly skin tight thing, for fuck’s sake. Criminally skin tight, even. How did Xavier ever greenlight that? Peter can see the tempting outline of your pussy in it, deliciously rolling into his clothed cock. His mouth waters at the sight. Lifting his hips off the bed, he meets your slow thrusts.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, what the fuck-” He moans an octave louder.

A strangled sound catches in his throat, and you’re quick to shush him the moment it frees itself.

“Pietro, honey, you gotta be quiet, okay?”

Hushed moans pour from your parted lips as you speak his given name. Peter’s completely bushwhacked at the mention of it. Since no one ever – excluding his mom, in her more frustrated moods – uses that name. A tickling flutter erupts with a burst in his belly. He almost creams himself at the sound of that name in your voice.

“Come on. Be good for me. You can be good for me. Can’t you, baby?” You plead. Moving your hips in a painfully slow, steady rhythm.

“Fuuuuuuuck. Babe, please-” Peter begs, “Faster? Faster, please. Yer killin’ me."

Your sharp nails sink into his bare chest, manifesting more glassy shards of frost. Winter cold seizes Peter’s body entirely, infecting him with frostbite’s kiss. Peter knits his brows tightly, his dark eyes mesmerized with your every movement. The freezing solace permeating from your pussy proves a little too overwhelming. As sharp, pinpricks of cold rush through his veins; it all morphs into carnal heat.

His muscles quickly tighten, every inch of him tensing in an instant.

“Wait wait wait! Fuck!” Peter whimpers in desperation, a flurry of moans erupting from his throat. His rock hard cock twitches, pulsating under you as he cums. Leaking thick streams of his seed into his boxers and jumpsuit, “F-Fuck! I’m sorry, baby! Ohhhhh god! I’m so sorry.”

As far as Peter knows, you have no clue he’s a virgin. Until now, he was content with that. He hadn’t planned on announcing it anytime soon. In hindsight, it’s pretty fucking embarrassing how easily he comes undone. All from a little dry humping, no less.

Yeah. You’re bound to figure it out sooner or later. Yikes.

Sticky, white pearls of his cum seep through his jumpsuit, staining the material. Your erotic motions slow to a stop, once you notice the streaks sticking to your clothed cunt. Tilting your head, you raise a brow. A delicate blush swarms your neck and ears, as you stare down at Peter with genuine surprise. He tilts his head back shamefully, sighing.

“D-Did you just-” You hesitate to continue. Wintry fingertips trace over his bare chest, “Damn, Quickie, that was fast.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Peter sighs again, bringing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, “Dammit.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling blistering warmth rapidly return. Taunting him with the promise of death by suffocation all over again. Before he finally succumbs to it, you crawl over him. Knees braced on either side of his body.

“I’m…god, I’m really fuckin’ sorry about that.” Peter awkwardly stammers, “I-I just…fuck! Yer just so-”

You shush him, chuckling, “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. That was so, sooooooo hot. Really hot, if I’m being honest.”

By virtue of his blessed genes, Peter takes very little time to recover. And hell, you make it an impossible feat not to chub up all over again. Your arctic tongue intertwines with his hotter one, as you meet him in another sloppy kiss. Cold hands grasp his cheeks, quickly sliding through his hair. Dragging your nails across Peter’s scalp, you kiss him with more urgency.

Peter sneaks his hands to your juicy ass, warm palms feeling at your plush booty cheeks. He gives one of them a light, playful smack. Drawing out a squeak from you, Peter giggles into your mouthy kisses. He’s distracted enough, he almost doesn’t notice you tugging the zipper of his jumpsuit.

“C’mon, get this thing off already.” You pull the zipper down even further, murmuring through frantic kisses, “Before you die of heat stroke in my bed.”

With a hmph , Peter nods his head, “Hey, if it’s life ‘er death? Guess I’ve got no choice then, huh?” He replies, fabricating his confidence, “Just a sec.”

Peter sits up fully on your bed, his feet absentmindedly kicking a few plushies on the floor. You slide off the bed entirely. Stepping back to give Peter the space he needs. From your perspective, the removal of his sweaty jumpsuit takes less than a second. But from Peter’s own POV, it’s a thousand years before he finally pulls himself out of his clothes. Clumsily, he peels his sticky limbs free.

“Fuckin’ shit-” He curses, struggling to free one of his ankles once he’s done.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but a faint air of raw cold filters through the space of your room. With his body free of stifling clothing; Peter can finally embrace that coolness in full. It bites sharply at his skin, making him shudder. Peter inhales a slow, deep breath just to feel it all

“Oh, wow! It feels damn good in here, Screwball! Like, woahhh! I feel like I’ve been sweatin’ my balls off this whole time until now.” He says.

“That’s the most charming thing you’ve said all day.” You sarcastically chime. And he snorts.

Peter promptly rids himself of his sweat soaked shirt, aching to feel more frigid air on his skin. He tosses the drenched fabric to the floor. Left in his cum stained boxers, Peter shifts uncomfortably on your bed. Self consciously, he gazes at you with a doe eyed look. He twiddles his thumbs in his lap.

“Sooooooo…uh…a-are you gonna take off yer-uhm…” Peter gives you a once over, gesturing to your jumpsuit.

He lets his long, sturdy legs hang off the side of your bed. Watching as you take slow steps backwards, pulling that tiny, snowflake zipper of yours. Dragging it all the way down. A mischievous spark twinkles in your eye, and Peter’s heart skips a thousand beats. Even though you’re trying your best to be sexy, you’re still just as clumsy as he was.

Which somehow, ultimately makes you even sexier to him.

You peel your limbs out of your glittering jumpsuit. Revealing the underwear beneath, fitting your body in all the right ways. Peter’s adam’s apple bobs, his eyes flitting up and down your curvaceous form. Drinking in the image of you almost completely bare.

“Holy shit.” Peter mumbles, leaning back and bracing his hands on your bed.

You’re giggling again. Blessing his ears with a precious sound he’s grown to adore over the last…however long it’s been since you invited him in. Peter can’t really remember. It’s impossible to hold any sense of rational thought while watching you like this. Especially when you pull off everything except your little, lace panties. Freeing your-

Whoaaaaaaa, mama.

There they are. In all their beautiful, freezing glory. Your icy cold knockers bounce freely. And with a flawlessly executed jiggle, too. If Peter had a sign, he'd rate them a perfect ten.

The skin of your breasts is heavenly soft, dusted in a faint motif of frosty snowflakes. Nipples perky.

Peter's wondered about those suckers for ages. And you most definitely don't disappoint. He whistles, his eyes flying open. Black pupils dilating like drops of heavy ink. No matter how hard he tries, he can't tear his gaze away from those bouncy beauties.

"Damn, Screwball…" Peter grins, shaking his head, "Yer a smokeshow, babe."

Subconsciously, he palms his hardening dick over his boxer briefs. Momentarily grimacing at the texture of drying cum in the fabric. His focused gaze lingers a little too long on your totally righteous titties. You're talking again. Speaking words in that sweet voice, though they go unheard.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah!

You must have given up on trying. He barely sees you coming, as you collide your lips with his again. Shocking him out of his boob-induced daze. The moment you're in close enough range, he reaches out to touch you. Burning hot palms fondle your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples. Furrowing your brows, you squeal into his mouth.

"Your hands-" You whine, "Your hands are so hot. It's like you're on fire." And Peter chuckles a heated breath in response.

"See? And that's why we're here. Gotta beat the heat somehow, eh?" He says, his hands playing with your frosty titties. Silken and cold on his skin.

Sinking to the floor, you lower yourself onto your knees. Peter knows without an ounce of doubt; your poor knees have to be aching like hell right about now. Yet, you persist. He scoots a little further at the edge of your bed, allowing you to ease yourself between his spread legs. With one less layer of clothing in the way of your touch, the coolness feels even more crisp and harsh over his cock.

“God, you’re so pretty…” He mumbles.

Peter stares down at you in awe, curling his fingers into the sheets. Biting your lip with an impish grin, you ease his boxers off completely. As your glimmering eyes meet the full length of his cock, you're instantly enamored. His dick, colored a scarlet hue and pulsing with thick veins, bounces over a silver bush of hair.

You haven't even touched him directly yet. But Peter can already feel that freezing aura easing in close. Swiping your tongue across your plush lips, you gaze at Peter's dick like your hunger hasn't been satiated in weeks.

No words are spoken between you both. As one of your hands treads carefully. Barely touching his thickness with your fingers. You stroke him in slow, but firm motions at first. Peter arches his back in shock, the cold like electricity rushing through his veins. Arctic temperatures rapidly pump his body full of adrenaline.

Maybe that’s why he’s so into this. Being a speedster, he’s always been addicted to the rush of exhilaration.

“Ohhh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Peter moans.

Your strokes slide up to the swollen, purple-ish head of his cock. Squeezing tightly. But the tip is too outrageously sensitive. A simple, icy cold tug of it gets Peter practically seizing. White light flashes through his vision. And just like that, he’s going totally mental. He jumps with an abrupt jerk, his body vibrating.

Peter whimpers in quick gasps, “Ah! N-Not the tip, baby! Not the tip!”

You make a quick retreat, sliding your hand down to the thick base of his length. Pumping his vascular cock in a frosty fist. He can feel his blood vessels constricting with every motion. Cold creeps under his skin, bringing with it a burning sensation. Peter’s groin tightens, and his moans turn to pleading whimpers.

With a cheshire grin, you flutter your lashes over a naughty gaze. Leaning forward, you tease the smooth length of his cock with your lips. Kitten licking a vein with the tip of your tongue.

“W-Wait! Hold on, Screwball! Fuck-” One of Peter’s hands finds your head, clutching strands of your hair between his fingers, “It’s too much, baby! I can’t-”

A long, chilling swipe of your tongue brings momentary crystals of ice. Igniting the burn along his skin. Peter never thought himself a masochist. But this freaky, frosty jerk-off session has somehow completely rewired his brain chemistry. Pain never felt so good.

In all your wickedness, little minx, you refuse to heed Peter’s warning. Your mouth engulfs the scorching heat of his cock. Surrounding him in a crisp, cold shroud. Bringing upon him a vengeance of the bleakest kind. Like a frostbitten hug, sending shockwaves of pleasure fluttering through his bones. Peter’s breathing quickens.

“Ah! FUCK! Gonna fuckin-...I’m fuckin’ cumming, baby! Sorry, sorry, sorr-” He falters over broken whines.

Acting on impulse like the total spaz he is, Peter panics. Tugging your head from his cock so he doesn’t bust a load in your mouth. He lags a few seconds behind. Late again, as per usual.

Peter accidentally showers your precious lips in his cum. Painting your face in hot, messy strands of it. He writhes in place, sluggishly rocking his hips forward. The spurting tip of his dick kisses your lips, the length bouncing with every eruption of thick, sticky heat.

For a second time in a row, he’s blown his load prematurely. Impressive, in a really lame way. But, hey, even if Peter feels a little bad for glossing you in his cum. He’s gotta admit, you look drop dead gorgeous like this.

Peter quickly snaps out of his post-nut daze, his eyes dancing across your decorated face.

Ah. Actually, now that he’s thinking somewhat clearly again…it’s a little gross. He fumbles over an onslaught of apologies. Reaching to the floor for his discarded shirt without thinking, he wipes your face clean of his nut.

Wait. Fuck. Why’d he use his shirt? Shit. Get it together, Quickie!

As always, you’re just as chill about this as you have been everything else, “That wasn’t so bad. But thanks. Sorry about your shirt, though.” You giggle. But all Peter does is shamefully laugh in response.

You’re perceptive enough to catch onto his sudden hesitance. He tenses, avoiding your pretty eyes. Bouncing a nervous leg at the speed of a rabbit’s kicks. Twice now, you’ve seen him finish way too early. And though he knows in his heart you wouldn’t judge him for his lack of experience; a small part of him fears the worst.

He really likes you, actually. It’d hurt like hell if you thought less of him over something so trivial.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” You ask. Playful, but still concerned.

Peter’s heart aches in the presence of your gentle nature. Swallowing his pride, he opts to confess. And if you think him pathetic for being a thirty year old virgin? Fuck it. He’s betting Hank’s mini fridge is still vacant.

You’re resting on your knees in between his legs, tracing feather-light, frosty patterns into his thigh. Peter’s skin swiftly erupts in goosebumps again, his body never accustomed to your arctic touch. Taking a deep breath, he drops his head forward.

“I…gotta be honest with ya about somethin’. I’ts-...” Peter cuts himself off with a sigh, burying his face in his hands, “I’m kind of…a virgin. Y’know, if you couldn’t already tell. I just…didn’t wanna say anything.”

“Pfffttt …” You puff in disbelief, like you’re assuming he’s messing with you. But Peter blinks, staring down into your eyes with a look that tells you he’s all business, “You’re serious? But, Peter, no offense? I’m really surprised! You always seemed like such a player. Like, you flirt with literally everyone.”

Peter stares at you in silence. He shakes his head, brows furrowed. A timid grin curling into his lips.

“I guess? I talk a big game, yeah. And I’ve made out with a lotta girls. Screwed around a few times. But…nah. I’ve never-uh…actually, really screwed. I dunno if the timing was never right or what, but…” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Despite fighting an internal war of crippling shame.

“Well, we’ll just have to remedy this then, won’t we?” Your hand rises to his chin, thumb tenderly stroking rough, silver stubble.

His eyes fly open, cheeks swarming a bright red. A beat, and Peter’s dick already twitches to life again at the prospect of your offer. However, despite his body’s insatiable desire, he waves his hands and shakes his head.

“N-No! No, babe! Listen, you don’t have to. I really wasn’t implyin’ anything when I said…uh…it’s just…I-I’ve never told anyone. That's all!”

“It’s fine! I said I would take care of you, didn’t I?”

He swallows, caught off guard by your choice of words. ‘Take care of you.’ His brows raise high, and the cartoonishly fast pounding of his heart returns. Fluttering in his chest, hiking up to sonic speed. Peter opens his mouth to protest, to remind you that you shouldn’t feel pressured into stealing his v-card.

But you’re already pushing yourself off the floor, climbing over Peter on your bed. With your icy hand to his chest, you guide him down onto his back. He gazes up at you with an uncertain, but lustful look in his dark eyes. In spite of the significantly cooler temperature of your room; Peter’s entire body breaks out in a humid sweat.

Okay. Calm down, man. Take a chill pill. Relax.

“You got any condoms?” You ask, blunt and up front.

So. This is really happening, huh? Yeah. Peter’s gonna lose his v-card to one of his teammates. No biggie. Screwing his fellow X-Man Screwball? Totally not a big deal.

Peter swallows dryly again, an awkward chuckle vibrating over his tongue.

“Not on me, no. I don’t really-uhhh…carry those around.” He makes a hasty move to sit up, “But I can run to the store really quick and grab some. Y’wanna snack ‘er a drink while I’m at it? I could really go fer somethin’ sweet like-”

Your frosty lips capture his in yet another, intimate kiss. For the sake of Peter’s inexperience, you take your time. Guiding Peter down onto his back once more. Working with tender consideration. When your tongue so lovingly swirls with his, he scowls. Tasting the lingering bitterness of his nut. He curls his lip.

“Euuuugh! Augh! Blegh! Is that really what I taste like? Eck! I’m so sorry, Screwball. I’ll try to spare ya next time. Eugh. That’s disgusting!” He rambles, overcompensating for his uneasy nerves again.

“Next time?” You raise your brows. Supple, wet lips smirking.

“Y-Yeah? Yeah…like… pfftt …if you want…” Peter shrugs, casual, blinking puppy dog eyes, “I dunno about you, but I’m havin’ a killer time fuckin’ around like this.” He adds, fingers toying with the hem of your panties.

Reaching for his cock, you take his length into your icy cold grip. Peter jolts again, cursing under his breath.

“I need to confess something too.” You say, bashful. Peter watches your facade of confidence diminish for a moment, “Would you still wanna do this if I told you I’m just as cold on the inside?”

“Woah…yeah. Listen, that is the opposite of a problem for me.” Peter reassures you, looking between your bodies, “Call me crazy? I’m really diggin’ the whole cold thing.”

He watches your fingers hook through the hem of your panties, sliding them down your smooth legs. It’s a bit awkward for you to get them off in this position. But eventually, you’re entirely exposed.

No more messing around. This is the real deal.

Wiggling your ass, you position your wintry cunt over his cock’s swollen head. Peter’s fingers tremble as they grab your ass for purchase. Holding you steady, he keeps his lidded gaze on your pussy. Entranced in the sight of your puffy lips lowering over his tip. Barely nudging it in, giving just a little tease of what’s to come. He shivers, muscles locking, shockwaves of glacial cold racing through his veins already.

“Ohhhhhhhh …wow…” He whines, teeth clamping his lip, “Please, ya gotta gimme more than that, baby.”

“Pietro, be patient.” You chastise him, fluttering your eyes closed.

Sighs and erotic moans of euphoria rise from the both of you in unison, just as his leaking tip dives through your cushiony walls. Peter shudders again, craning his neck back. Moaning a broken, strangled sound from deep in his chest. The tight, freezing sting of your cunt causes him to tense up. Peter digs his nails into the flesh of your ass, his lips parting for breath.

“Mmmmmfffuuck. You good? You okay?” You ask, little mewls bubbling in your throat.

Through frantic, wordless intakes of breath, Peter nods.

He’s never felt anything like this in all his thirty years of life. It’s a completely new sensation. The plushiest of pins and needles constricting tightly around his cock. Or the world’s softest pillow, pulled straight out of the freezer. Sex with you is the kind he could so easily become addicted to. If it was possible to stay connected this intimately forever, he’d do so in a heartbeat. No questions asked. Totally worth the searing pain of frostbite.

You take a few moments to adjust to the length and girth of him. It feels like centuries before you’re moving, but the wait is more than worth it. Your cunt weeps around his cock, swallowing him up completely in a frosty slickness. Peter chokes, his breath hitching. The pace you set is frustratingly slow, bouncing into his pelvis in steady slams of bush on silver bush.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that. More? C’mon gimme more, baby, please. Oh, please!” He whines, submissive and needy.

Sitting up a little straighter, you balance your cool hands on his chest. Peter’s skin is all raw and red, frostbitten from your previous teasing. It’s a little painful now, actually. Leaving a tingly burn. But the stinging pain registers as pleasure in Peter’s speedy brain.

Your pussy molds perfectly with the thick shape of him. Roughly shocking you with a surge of dull pain, Peter’s cock knocks straight into your squishy cervix. His expression contorts in overstimulation, his mouth falling open. He wets his lips with his tongue.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ ride me. Mmmmm yeah~” Peter moans, “Yer so fuckin’ cold. Shit-” His moans steadily trail off into whimpers.

“Should I stop? Is it too much?” You halt your movements for a second too long.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ stop.” He groans, animalistic and ragged, “Ohhhh~ Please don’t stop.”

As you thrust your beautiful body into his lap, Peter follows your lead. Driving his hips against your ass with each bounce of contact. Overshadowing that sultry melody of Pink Floyd with the lewd smacking of skin on skin. Your cunt hugs his cock in a grip tight enough to induce more freezer burn. But it’s such an alluring feeling, he bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

Peter’s brown-eyed gaze rakes down your body. Intoxicated with the way your titties bounce and your pussy sucks the ever-speeding soul out of him. He has to mentally-prep himself so he doesn’t cum too soon again. But the piercing cold compressing his dick sends thrilling pulses through his limbs. Erotic pleasure burns deep in his gut.

“Pietro!” You cry. Riding his dick and mewling soft kitten noises, you circle your little clit with your fingers, “Want me to cum on your cock, pretty boy? Wanna feel this tight, little pussy cum for you?” 

Ohhhhh. You can’t do that to him. Dirty, little minx. He’s never heard such filthy words like that come out of your mouth. And the way you sound, how you look touching yourself on his cock; It all triggers a carnal instinct in the recesses of his mind.

Peter lifts his hips in a display of super strength, abusing your cervix repeatedly with his cock. Pounding your pussy so fast and hard. With a force deep and rough enough to make you see stars. A filthy squelch of a sound echoes from inside you.

“Oh my god-” Peter’s face contorts in needy desperation, brows creasing, “Please? Wanna feel you cum, baby. Need you to cum on my dick so bad.”

Sitting up on his elbows with his mouth hanging lazily open, Peter brings his fingers to his drooling tongue. His eyes are half lidded and cloudy, almost rolling back into his skull. He reaches out, the wet pads of his fingers meeting your cute bud. He buzzes his digits in a scorching vibration, knowing how sensitive you are to his heat. Easily coaxing you towards release.

“HOH! FUCK-” Peter’s eyes flutter in shock, “ Ohmyfuckingod that’s really fuckin’ tight. ”

His body tenses hard as stone. Feeling you clench around him while he fucks you so deep he thinks he’s reached your stomach. Within a few, measly seconds of teasing vibrations on your clit; you’re cumming. Coating his cock in a wave of crisp slickness. You tremble uncontrollably, tilting your head back and crying like a siren of the arctic seas. Singing a mantra of the name Pietro.

Peter grips your hips hard with both hands, sinking his blunt nails into your skin. Animalistic instinct overflows his mind as soon as he’s reached his own peak. Ecstasy tumbles over Peter in an overwhelming crash, much like an avalanche. And just as he’s pumping you impossibly full of hot, thick ropes of cum; something happens.

His release burns inside you, pooling in a milky heat. A stark contrast to the freezing temperature constantly flowing through your body. Your nails scratch red lines into his chest, manifesting glass crystals of frost. They burn like hell, and Peter hisses. One, final slap of your ass against his lap, and –

A ripple of explosive, winter cold rushes from your body in a flash. The bombastic wave coats your entire room in powdery snow and sheets of ice. Turning the small space into a glorified freezer. It even hits the record player, slowing the final tune of Obscured by Clouds to a creeping stop. Piercing cold fires through Peter’s lungs, and he chokes on it.

…D…Did that really just happen??

Glancing around frantically, he pushes himself up on your bed.

A soft, tingling blanket of snow drapes his body. Peter sputters, quickly brushing as much of it off as he can. You’re still sitting over his lap, his softening dick tucked safely between your pussy’s plush walls. With every puff of warm air from his lungs, Peter can see his breath fanning like smoke through the air.

“Woooahhhhh, babe…” He nudges you on the shoulder to get your attention, his expression wide eyed and bewildered, “Are you seein’ this shit?”

Recovering from your numbing state of euphoria, you lazily scan your room. You gasp, though it sounds more like a really cute squeak; covering your mouth with a hand.

“Ah! What the hell did I do!? I’m sorry! Oh my god, Peter, I’m so sorry!” You say, dropping your face into Peter’s frost-bitten chest.

He hisses as you lean into his sensitive, scarred skin. And before you can spout off another flurry of sweet apologies – a noise catches the attention of you both. Outside, the two of you hear the unmistakable sound of children’s laughter. Joyful cries, followed by playful giggles and screams. You raise your head, meeting Peter’s doe eyes with a questioning look.

Narrowing his eyes, he pats your thigh. Signaling you to hop off his lap.

Clumsily, Peter zips around the room in a blur, searching for something to cover himself up with. But his clothes are all caked in snow. And not to mention a little something else. Peter has to resort to a blanket stuffed underneath all the others on your bed. Untouched by your surprise blizzard. He cloaks himself in the blanket, appearing at your door in a fwip.

Discreetly, he pulls the door open.

Or, at least, he makes an attempt. It’s completely frozen in place, sealed with ice around the lock and hinges.. Why is he even surprised at this point? Peter tugs the handle once or twice with barely any strength. And when that doesn’t work, he jerks it open with a harsh flex of his muscles. He pokes his fluffy, silverette head halfway out the door. Looking up and down the hallways.

Only to find…

Your orgasmic snowstorm reached places far beyond the confined space of your room. Looks like Christmas came early this year. The hallways of Xavier’s mansion are all drenched in frosty spreads of snow. It’s not nearly as much as what’s accumulated in your room. But it’s enough to stir up the students and teachers. Many of the kids run around excitedly. Bouncing, cheering, celebrating.

And who can blame them?

To those unseen forces of the universe out there: thanks for blessing us all with the power of Screwball's ecstasy.

Out of nowhere, the X-Men’s laser eyed leader makes his appearance. Scott comes skidding to a halt outside your door just at that moment. He balances himself with a hand to your door, a genial smile on his face. A fuzzy fust of red tickles the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Across the hall, Logan leans casually against a wall. Puffing a cigar, wearing a thin undershirt that compliments his jacked form a little too well. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his fitted jeans.

For a moment, Scott doesn’t seem to register why Peter’s even in your room.

But in this life, one speedster can only be so lucky.

“Wh-...Peter? Hey-uh…where’s-” Scott mentions your name, and continues, “I wanted to give ‘em my thanks for doing this.” He gestures over his shoulder to the mess of snow covering the walls and floors, “Some of the kids were getting really sick from the weather. And I know Xavier's gonna be pissed, but-...” His voice slowly trails off.

Scott’s smile falls for a beat. But Peter finds it hard to read his emotions without seeing his eyes clearly. Those sunglasses must do him loads of favors on a daily basis. If he tries, he can gauge what’s going through Scott’s head based on the look of surprise that crosses his face. Followed by a sly, knowing grin.

Summers is an intelligent guy. It doesn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

Especially with the way Peter stands in your doorway. He’s draped in a blanket that clearly isn’t his, shoulders bare underneath. The surface of his skin burns cherry red in some places. His hair is a tousled, fuzzy mess, and his cheeks are flushed bright pink.

Peter awkwardly swallows, avoiding the vibrant gaze of Scott’s red-tinted sunglasses. He directs his attention over his shoulder instead, making accidental eye contact with Logan. Wolvie arches a thick, quizzical brow, his eyes glancing over Peter’s blanketed form.

He really hadn’t meant for anyone to find out about this. But it looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“You kids better be using protection.” Scott jokes, patronizing.

Which is funny, coming from him. Peter’s got ten years on him at the least.

“Uhhhh, yeah. I’ll totally tell ‘em you said thanks. We cool? Bitchin’. Later, Summers.” Peter rushes through his words ultra fast, before slamming the door shut behind him.

That’ll be a rough one to explain later. But hopefully no one’ll be nosy enough to pry. Besides, Peter doesn’t wanna think about it right now. Since, y’know, he kinda just got laid for the first time. Which is really fucking awesome, now that he can stop and really digest that it happened. And with someone he’s been crushing on too.

Maybe he’s luckier than he thought.

Peter presses his back against your icy door, letting the thick blanket covering his body fall to the floor. Leaving him butt ass naked in your freezer of a room. He rakes his fingers through his hair, cheesing a goofy smile to himself.

“What’s goin’ on? Were you talkin’ to someone?” You ask, emerging from your bathroom and brushing snow off a towel.

“Oh- pfffttt …just Summers. Yeah. He-uh…wanted to tell you thanks. ‘Cuz you kinda went all blizzard on this whole place and now it’s, like-” Peter makes a wide gesture with his hands, mimicking the sound of an avalanche falling. Or, that’s what he tries to do, anyway. He’s never been the best at charades.

“HUH!? What are you-” You rush to your door. Those pretty titties of yours bounce with every step. And Peter ogles them shamelessly. Poking your head through the door, he overhears the sound of your gasp. Followed by the shyest little, “Heyyyyyy, Logan.”

Before you’re closing the door again, marching to your bathroom with your head cast down in shame. 

“Xavier’s gonna kill me, dude! I can’t believe this!” You whisper-shout.

Your bashfulness and frustration are so cute, Peter has to refrain from snickering. And as you reach the doorway, you stop yourself. He catches the motion of your eyes checking him out, before your gazes meet again. Peter smirks.

“Uhm…how was your first time, by the way?” You ask in a quiet, uncertain tone, “Was it…okay?”

Oh, you cannot even be serious right now.

Peter gives you a weird look. Staring at you like you’re some strange, newly discovered entity from a far off universe. Really, you must be, if you’re gonna question a good time like that.

“Okay? Okay?? ” Peter appears before you in less than a blink’s time.

He wraps his strong arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body. Grinning confidently, he darts down to kiss your frosty lips.

“Screwball, baby, that was a total rush. Are you crazy? It’s not every day I make somebody cum so hard they kickstart an early winter, y’know. Not bad fer my first time, if I do say so myself.” He waggles his brows.

I’m really glad I could help you out…” You mutter, smiling so sweet.

Your fingers trace the burns littering Peter’s chest with a feather-light touch. Even the faintest brush makes him wince in pain. But he’s not ashamed to admit it’s totally worth it. What’s a little freezer burn and frostbite between friends, huh?

Or, between…whatever the two of you are now.

“Oh, you did wayyyy more than help me out.” Peter winks, kissing you once more, “You rocked my world babe. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay? I had a great time.”

You saunter off to your bathroom then. And Peter reaches out to playfully smack your ass as you walk away. He admires your gorgeous figure in all its naked glory. His eyes following the jiggle of your booty cheeks.

“Yer still takin’ me on that date, right? Dinner and a movie?” He asks, startling you with his sudden appearance in the bathroom. Peter presses himself into your back, standing tall in comparison to your height.

“Can we hold off? Do you think you can wait until the city isn’t on fire?” You meet his dark eyes in the mirror over the sink, “And it can’t be Howard the Duck.”

“No. It’s most definitely gotta be Howard the Duck.” Peter brings his warm hands to your shoulders, thumbs gliding along your soft skin. He leans down to pepper your sex hair in kisses, “I won’t accept nothin’ else, got it?

“Mmmhm. Shouldn’t I be the judge of that, Peter? Since, like, you keep implying I’m the one paying.”

He scoffs, slowly gliding his large hands over the irresistible curves of your body. He gives a mischievous grin through the mirror, his look oozing speedster charm.

“Who said anything about paying?”

[jiminjeonging]

on the bed hcs sry i meant fucking

Jimin loves being called “unnie” – like, LOVES it. It hits her pride and her need to feel in control all at once. It doesn’t matter what they’re doing, the second Minjeong breathes out a shaky, “Unnie…” in that soft, whiny voice of hers, Jimin’s entire demeanor shifts. Suddenly, she’s gentler, more eager to please. She thrives off being needed, being the one Minjeong relies on when she’s feeling small and overwhelmed.

Jimin overstims Minjeong constantly – Jimin has that teasing dominance where she whispers all soft and sweet, like, “Just one more for me, baby. You can give me one more, can’t you?” while Minjeong’s trembling and begging her to stop because she can’t take it anymore. But Jimin is persistent and they're only stopping when Jimin had enough!

Minjeong edges Jimin mercilessly - If Jimin’s overstimming game is lethal, Minjeong’s edging is pure evil. Minjeong’s surprisingly patient about it, too. She’ll kiss and tease Jimin just enough to get her begging, but the second Jimin gets too close, Minjeong pulls away, all wide-eyed and innocent. “What’s wrong, unnie? Do you need something?” Minjeong doesn’t do it often but when she does, Jimin is a mess. It’s the only time Jimin’s composure cracks entirely.

Minjeong’s shyness is absolutely Jimin’s weakness - There’s something about how flustered Minjeong gets when Jimin’s being pushy or openly affectionate that drives Jimin insane. Like, Minjeong covering her face with her hands when Jimin praises her? Or squeaking when Jimin backs her into a wall and smirks down at her? Yeah, Jimin’s obsessed. “Don’t hide from me, Minjeong. You’re so pretty when you blush.”

Jimin loves to praise, Minjeong loves to be praised - I feel like this is a key part of their dynamic. Jimin’s the type to whisper things like, “You’re perfect for me,” or “You’re so pretty when you fall apart,” while Minjeong melts under the attention. Jimin knows exactly how to get Minjeong to relax—sweet words, gentle touches, and reassurance that she’s doing well.

(Jimin loves being praised too!!! She needs to be told how good she is making Minjeong feels when she is eating her out or she'll explode!)

Minjeong is a brat. She doesn’t mean to be, but her reluctance to listen or follow Jimin’s instructions sometimes gets her in trouble. Like, Jimin will tell her to keep her hands to herself, and Minjeong will cling to her instead because being denied of touching Jimin doesn't sit right with her, that's like her birthright. Jimin has to tie her up if she wants to stop Minjeong but she loves the scratches on her back so..

They’re soft when it counts. Despite all the teasing, they always have these quiet, tender moments afterward and mostly do tender love making. Jimin loves tucking Minjeong against her chest, stroking her hair and murmuring how proud she is. Minjeong, despite being shy, likes to press sleepy kisses to Jimin’s jaw and mumble a soft, “Thank you, unnie,” before dozing off. I think the opposite happens too with Minjeong stroking Jimin's hair and Minjeong loving Jimin's weight on her.

Jimin’s stamina is INSANE. Jimin’s the type to keep going no matter how wrecked Minjeong is, just to see how much she can take. And Minjeong, for all her shy protests, loves it.

Jimin lives for Minjeong’s reactions. She doesn’t care what they’re doing—her favorite thing is watching Minjeong’s face, how her eyes flutter shut when Jimin kisses her neck or the way she bites her lip when she’s trying to stay quiet. Jimin’s always pushing her buttons to get those reactions, just because she can.

[voxofthevoid]

Yuuji's also extremely comfortable with violence, whether that's lethal violence toward curses or training/sparring with peers and mentors. The little we know of his pre-canon backstory features him beating up bullies, and he may not have been as dramatic about it as Megumi was, but the look on his face was sure something else.

LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK 🗣🗣🗣

Those who think Yuji is a uwu sunshine and rainbows baby seem to forget that he got the "Tiger of West Junior High" moniker because he used to beat up bullies (also that name goes SO hard and I love it deeply) and that doesn't happen if you only do it once or twice... He probably did it on the regular, or at least did it enough time to warrant the name! (Also in Japan junior high is between 12 and 15 y/o, so like... he was a menace long before getting pulled into the world of jujutsu)

I need more people to accurately portrait how truly feral and insane my son Yuji can be

YEAH

Though if I say it any louder, I'll start crawling out of people's devices "It's Me, I'm the PS5" style.

He was absolutely a menace well before jujutsu entered his life. Even before we see his fun afterschool activity of beating people up, we see him admit that he's always been good at fighting and later express beaming pride at his physical capabilities.

Honestly, pre-canon Yuuji fascinates me. The few glimpses we see of him at 14 show he's pretty much the same kid in terms of values, but he's also more subdued and stony, depending on whether he's with friendly classmates or random bullies. His more overt cheer in canon proper seems to have come later, and given his life circumstances, I wonder how much of it is a committed choice to being bright and positive. We also see it fade to reveal his quieter, introspective, and perceptive side at many critical points.

Another facet that fascinates me is the sheer control he has over his physical strength. Being that controlled at fifteen speaks of long practice and exacting care: He can't "turn off" his strength by controlling his CE because he's inhumanly strong because of Kenjaku's wombtecnics, not CE, and unlike Maki or Toji, it's not like he'd have had any idea why he's so strong, fast, etc. Yet, he can still touch people gently with the same hands that can casually punch through concrete. Makes you wonder how his strenth developed, whether the control is largely instinctive or painstakingly learned, and how many mistakes he made in the process of wrangling it. He doesn't hide his power, clearly, and we mostly see people appreciate it in sporty/showman contexts, but that kind of thing can also very easily be isolating, especially when you're a kid.

...Half of this has barely anything to do with your ask, but I am prone to yammering when Yuuji's brought up. But yes, he's insane and feral. The adaptability alone is downright unhinged, and it only escalates throughout the series. Gojou clocks him as crazy a few days into meeting him, and Yuuji sure earns that.

I Love This Kid A Normal Amount.

[questionable-sanity]

listen, i believe in my soul that if feng xin were a woman, she would still be primarily sexually attracted to women.

but, she would also still be terrified of them.

picture it. you have a walking, breathing lesbian wet dream, complete with a strong jaw and muscles and striking eyes and a chivalrous spirit and, if rumor is to be believed, an absolutely insane strap game. every poor lesbian and bisexual woman the scene is salivating.

but put a woman within 10 square feet of her and feng xin just books it.

however, there are 2 exceptions.

the first exception is her childhood best friend, who is very much taken by her tall, dark, and handsome girlfriend.

the second exception, to the dismay of every other woman in the vicinity at any given moment, is mu qing - slender and intimidating with waist-length black hair and a lethal face card, always with eyeliner sharp enough to kill.

feng xin does not run from mu qing, no. even if she wanted to, she wouldn't get the opportunity. because whenever mu qing approaches, they're almost immediately in each other's face - glaring and sneering, hurling insults, staring unblinkingly into one another's eyes.

flirting or fighting? it's impossible to tell most of the time.

but, no one misses the way mu qing would toss her hair, strutting away with feng xin growling and griping in her ear as she follows the raven into a bathroom, or dimly lit corner, or empty office, or -

[recycledraccoon]

Quick! I'm from the future!! I need your inkblade headcanons or scenarios or the universe will implode!

Ok ok, I can do this. I can answer this ask without going out of control. I can be normal about this, I can.

I don't have very many hardset headcanons, but more vibes that rise and fall like the tide. Oisin's fins/head-crest flare out ramrod straight and the spines turn as purple as his face if he's blushing hard enough. I will die on this hill. Oisin's non-verbal emotions are actually really easy to pick up on if he's too distracted to keep them tightly in control. A thick dragonborn tail lashing back and forth like an outlet for Emotions That Are Too Big can be really inconvenient in a highschool hallway. The rise and fall of his fins/head-crest are MUCH harder to hide however. Oisin also smells perpetually of petrichor, and it drives Adaine insane.

1. I think Oisin's crush started softly, and with indescribable longing, probably before he ever knew who she was. Freshman year, a Thursday Intro To Glyphs class. He doesn't know or talk to her at all, just a face in a class he has that he barely notices. So he's not falling for her quite yet.

I think he first fell in love in the way one does when you see a stranger sitting across from you on the public bus or train. The sunlight hit her hair and he couldn't take his eyes off suddenly. Maybe he saw her smiling and laughing with her friends, maybe she was rolling her eyes at them with her nose scrunched up just a little in faint judgement, maybe he can't even remember because while walking past in the hallway he had been so dumb-struck for a second he walked face first into an open locker door to Ivy's absolute confusion. (She does laugh at him mercilessly, even if he won't say why he walked into it.)

It's a moment of "I don't know you, you don't know me, but for one unfathomably long moment I wanted nothing more than to imagine a life lived that included basking near you and your smile every day until I die."

Unrealistic right? Just a passing stranger, this isn't a love story, it's an average Tuesday and Oisin has homework and an appointment with his party in the forest after school.

He gathers his bearings and moves on, and if his mind wanders back to the girl in the hall who had captivated him to lethal effect? Well it's a pleasant memory for him and he thinks that's allowed, right?

Except she's in his Glyph class two days later, he realizes, and suddenly that hallway moment of longing rushes back until his entire face is purple and he's trying not to stare at the occasionally stuttering but brilliant wizard girl two rows ahead in class.

1a. I think Oisin continued to take Glyph classes at first because he hoped she would too. Adaine doesn't, but Oisin continues because he is good at them and enjoys it and it's certainly easier to learn when he's not distracted in class 70% of the time.

2. As Oisin gets older, more and more of his dragonic nature becomes apparent. It's like a second puberty happening concurrently with normal puberty, which means it's a rollercoaster nightmare for him and the High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders.

2a. Dragons have hoards, but not all dragons hoard the same things, even within their own subclasses. Still, Oisin has quite a few gems and jewels in his fledgling hoard, despite not knowing what he most wants to hoard, and if his favorite gem just so happens to be one that reminds him of the shade of blue in a particular elven girl's eyes then-

2b. Oisin also has a deep fondness for rain and storms. He always knows if it's incoming even if it's not in the forecast. Something primal in him connects to the raging skies, for good or ill. It makes him feel confident and powerful. He also considers it very romantic. Unfortunately, Adaine gets so cross with him anytime she hears him predict a storm coming, even if he's talking to literally anyone else. (Adaine thinks Oisin is a storm himself, and if she is not careful she will be like the last Oracle and have forgotten to stock up on water breathing spells and drown in him amidst the storm of his being.)

2c. Dragons also hold great respect for power and prowess. Physical fights for hierarchy, play, or even courtship are very normal. For all that they are sentient brilliant beings, Dragons are still wild, untameable, primal things. This lurks underneath all of them, good or evil. Some are just more adept at hiding it. For courtship, this comes into play as sizing the other up. Both sides are looking to find out whether or not the other has any worth as a long term partner who would need to help guard the nest. Protecting eggs and hoards from greedy adventurers is serious business. There are reasons there aren't many truly ancient dragons. Too large a discrepancy in strength can sometimes be a turn off for the stronger one, so the most successful courtships are usually of similarly strong dragons, or at least, ones that put up enough of a fight despite the gap.

c1. Oisin, seeing the great accomplishments and prowess of Adaine Abernant over the course of Freshman year, feels a deep stirring even before he's rage-starred. He wants to fight her so badly, to sling magic and bloody teeth until the raging beast inside is sated. Naturally this scares him at first, and Oisin REFUSES to seek Adaine out to talk because of it, because the teen boy part of himself wants something kind, soft and tender between them, while the dragon making itself known as he ages wants to prove itself strong to her.

Later, he will tell himself this urge was ENTIRELY because he'd been on the path towards being contaminated-then-consumed with rage and wanted the Bad Kids dead. Absolutely not because it's the first step in traditional dragon courtship. He just wants to prove himself to her. He wants to feel for himself the confirmation of her renowned battle prowess. This is all for purely rival-related reasons, he tells himself. He is, perhaps, a bit of a liar.

3. Adaine's crush, not just her thinking he's cute but her actual legitimate crush on him, actually starts when the Rat Grinders are being redeemed post-Junior Year.

Like, she hates his GUTS. He made her feel belittled and stupid during Junior year, and yes they kicked his and his friends asses, but also now they just have to deal with them still being around. (Yes this is how they made friends with Ragh too, but they're petty.)

Except...so now they have to spend time together, maybe in classes maybe because Lucy loves her friends despite everything but is also now a friend of The Bad Kids. The former Rat Grinders are CLEARLY trying so hard to be better and kinder, but still the parties are mingling and there is tension but its also so fucking funny.

So Adaine and Oisin's interactions is just a montage of them being assholes to each other. Oisin can be polite and respectable, funny even, with everyone BUT Adaine apparently. Bickering about wizard things, taunting cutting words, and Adaine repeatedly trying to punch his smug face whenever he gets too close while gloating if he's right about something.

3a. Adaine literally tells Aelwyn that while she wants and needs kindness, she does acknowledge that it's messed up that she wishes someone was a little mean to her sometimes. This rivalry with Oisin is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!!!!!! (the monkey paw curls)

3b. The worst part, is no matter how much Adaine hates Oisin, is that it doesn't stop him from being attractive. Oh sure, she thinks he's an absolute asshole when he's sitting across from her in the library, but......

He's still absurdly tall, with large arms that are for more than just show. The conjuration tattoos are both practical and very pleasing to the eye, the almost electric blue of them a pleasing contrast to the softer blue shade of his scales.

The contradiction of those large round spectacles resting on his snout makes him look just dorky enough to go from being just another buff guy to being....well. Unfortunately, the glasses also do nothing to shield Adaine from the weight of his gaze.

When he looks at her with his full attention, behind those glasses are eyes of molten gold, and trained solely on her that gaze feels searing hot wherever it lands.

3c. Or perhaps, the worst part is she despises how he laughs. Sometimes, when she says something as clever as it is cutting, Oisin throws his head back just a little to laugh, bright and warm, all while his throat rumbles. It must be something draconic in nature, like a strong purr or distant rain clouds. It's much harder to get him to make that particular sound when he laughs, and the rumble feels unfairly like victory. Like she cracked the careful fascade he puts up to pretend like he's not a dragon.

The rumble also feels particularly reminiscent of butterflies in her stomach. (She elects to ignore this part.)

4. Oisin is a dragon, and he is a little obsessed with Adaine even if he doesn't dare to dream of going on an actual date with her after everything from the previous year. He cannot imagine a world where she would ever again believe him to be genuine in affection or intention towards romantic feelings. No instance of genuine fluster could ever be seen as anything but a clever ruse, he tells himself, he certainly wouldn't believe it if it was him.

But he's got her attention now, and he is possessive of that, of what he CAN get. Even if she hates his guts and pointblank threatens to kill him if he steps out of line-

Even if it's because she hates him, Oisin still has her eyes on him. Eyes like clear skies before the rolling storm, like they can pierce through everything he is and will ever be and know the truth of it.

Every conversation is like a battle, a verbal sparring that he TELLS himself is nothing at all like the courtship fights, but oh how sweet does it sound to his inner dragon. She could be cussing him out and he could feel like his heart would burst from his chest from the affection he feels, even as he riles her up further, until she slips into saccharine elven curses that he can practically taste on his forked tongue.

4a. Once he tosses back a clever jape in draconic at her. When she immediately starts in on him with the gutteral words of his native tongue, perfectly fluent but lilted ever so slightly like a refined melody, his tail accidentally knocks over a chair and his crest flares so strongly that he KNOWS his face must be more purple than a ripe plum. He's lost a battle and her laughter at the way he flees claiming he forgot something haunts him for days. He tries to get revenge by whispering things under his breath at her in Elvish, and her glare is divine, but it's so risky because she might just start talking to him draconic again and Oisin fears he could live a thousand years and still not be able to handle the sound of it when it falls from her lips.

a1. It's a lost cause. Adaine has a weakness now, and she wields it with all the precision she's developed on a battlefield. It's the cutest surest way to put him in his place, rile him up with the same burning fire that he seems so expert in stirring up in her. Oh he might try to argue back in draconic, or even throw a taunt out in Elvish, but he always stalks off first. (He makes the refined, posh but ancient language of Elvish sound like something Tracker would appreciate. He makes it sound ever so slightly wild, like something else is lurking behind all the refinery. Adaine is well practiced in steadying her breathing, and Oisin always cracks first.)

5. Everyone has seen these two bicker back and forth, and everyone knows trying to get them to stop or get between them means the two turn as a united front against whoever interrupted, and that's honestly worse.

5a. The Bad Kids and High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders have an ongoing bet amongst themselves on on if the two will snap and legitimately murder each other, or snap and start making out in the library. It's honestly way too elaborate of a betting system with odds changing all the time, but it is actually probably the most fun, non-tense bonding the two groups have together. They have also gone to GREAT LENGTHS to keep it secret from the two wizards, especially when one of them is the fucking ORACLE.

6. It's not all bickering and scathing words. Sometimes, when nobody else is around to see behind this precarious curtain...its soft and tender too.

6a. Sometimes, when Adaine is genuinely having a bad day and feels one wrong moment from truly snapping, she feels the magic of a conjured summon passing by whatever table or nook she stowed herself away to hide in. The smell of arcane-tinted petrichor lingers afterwards, and settled nearby is a warm drink that hadn't been there before. Sometimes its tea's she's fond of, sometimes a warm peppermint mocha from her favorite coffee place downtown. Against her better judgement, she is increasingly fond of the smell of rain. 6b. Sometimes, the rage feels like it never left Oisin's body. It burns him inside and out, and he's so exhausted fighting back these aftershocks. He is trying every day to make up for what he's done, but the feeling of unbridled rage haunts him. To indulge is to fail, fall off the wagon, and he will not falter, even if he squeezes his hands so tightly they bleed beneath his claws. A message cantrip blooms to life in his mind. Melodic, lilted draconic, giving not words of comfort, but familiar unafraid taunts. It's a challenge, he knows it, and somehow that makes it easier, rage giving way to fondness and the desire to prove himself. 6c. There are more late nights in libraries and sitting close at tables in out of the way restaurants working on difficult projects then either would ever let anyone know, not that they let anyone know of them at all. It's quiet honest conversations over dusty tomes and scattered papers. (They couldn't know how to make the most cutting of remarks if they knew nothing about each other, after all.) a1. Its Oisin, laying his head down in his arms over the library table, eyes watching her sitting next to him with hair falling in her face like it always does when shes bent forward focusing intently on her work. There are many, many times when Oisin does nothing but watch in silence. Sometimes, rarely, when its late and nobody will come by except to kick them out- He reaches a claw to gingerly tuck the silken gold hair behind the bright red ear of a girl who doesn't say anything about it, before he looks away entirely, trying to ignore the way he can feel his crest fluttering up and down as it seemingly contemplates flaring out.

a2. It's Adaine, rolling her eyes with no heat, as she steps into his personal space and is enveloped in the smell of petrichor. Calloused fingers lingering on rough scales as she ever so gently corrects a stance or spell casting motion that the unfairly tall dragonborn boy next to her had been working on perfecting.

The both know she doesn't have to be so close for this, that another demonstration from beside him would work just fine. He doesn't have to bend ever so slightly, dip his long draconian neck down so he can better hear her murmured words either, so close they can feel the heat of the others breath. He casts the spell perfectly, and Adaine steps back out to a respectable distance, and neither of them say anything about it.

7. Neither of them ever mention any of it. It feels taboo, like the triggering of a spell that will destroy both of them. The fighting, the bickering, the cutting words and sharp swords aimed at jugulars? That's easy, that's familiar and safe. It's what's supposed to happen between them, safe territory they can walk with eyes closed. It's the tenderness that's hard. It's the yearning and soft touches aborted at the last moment-

This is what would be their ruin, and the threat of it lingers above them, rolling clouds heavy with rain that just wont fall. Days, weeks, months pass by and they do not mention it.

8. Adaine, flush with Oracle-sure certainty, gestures for Oisin to slow down, to bend down low so she can tell him something. He protests, its about to rain any second and really Abernant, they're going to be late- Adaine kisses Oisin first, soft and sure as her hands cradle his scaled jaw, just as the dark clouds above them break open.

The kiss tastes like rain, and the loud, pleased rumble in her ears certainly isn't from the storm coming down on them.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 10

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: The powers that be reveal that they've been pulling the strings all along, and you're forced to finally choose a brother.

Warnings: Mature Content, Love Triangle, Klaus' Filthy Mouth, Violence, Blood, Knives, Cutting, Blood Drinking, Witchcraft

Word Count: 3.6k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

“Oh good, you’re awake!” A woman’s voice rings in your ears, echoing off the walls of the room that you open your eyes in. It’s an older southern accent, it’s pitch and volume signaling that she’s standing only a few feet away from where you sit, even if you can’t see her just yet. “You must be exhausted from entertaining two of the world’s most lethal vampires for the past few weeks. I’ll bet you needed that rest.”

“Excuse me?” You blink a few times and try to focus on what’s around you, noticing the chill of night and the steady drip of water leaking down from the roof a few dozen feet behind you. It drips in a slow, unchanging rhythm, surpassed only by the increasing beat of your heart as panic begins to settle in, stifling your breath along with it.

Oh great, you’ve been taken.

“Where am I?!” The smell of rust and sage surrounds you as the rest of your senses start to kick back in, your eyes now focused enough to take in the barren walls towering over you, flanked by rows of boarded up windows with all sorts of symbols painted on them as outdated newspaper clippings peel off their corners. It doesn’t take long to figure out that you’re in an abandoned warehouse out in the middle of nowhere.

“I almost feel sorry for having to put you through all of this, baby.” The voice comes again, this time curving around your right side as it gets closer with each click of her heels against the concrete floor. “Almost.”

You turn your head to look at her, to put a face to that voice which taunts you, but quickly realize that it’s the only thing that you can physically do. You can’t turn your torso at all in the chair that you’re tied to, the tightly bound ropes digging into your wrists, chest and ankles as you try to move your limbs in a painfully futile attempt at freedom.

Holy shit, you’re not going anywhere! This is bad… REALLY bad.

“What do you mean, feel sorry for me?! Did you really knock me out and bring me here? Kidnap me?” You ask, absolutely dumbfounded. “People still do that?” You have to admit that out of all the absolutely insane things you’ve witnessed recently, this is the most incredible. You expected there to be violence from your immortal suitors in your immediate future, but kidnapping? Well, you didn’t predict that at all. She must be one of their enemies, one of the people Klaus had trained his men to protect you from. Lot of good that did. “Who are you?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter who I am, child.” The woman steps in front of you, her dark hair littered with streaks of gray as it falls down onto her shoulders dressed in a colorful linen dress. She holds a stick of sage in front of her as she chants indistinguishable words beneath her breath, the white smoke wafting off of it slowly thinning into the stale air around you both. “All that matters now is you and the part you still have to play.”

“Look, I don’t know what I did to offend you, or what ancient tradition I broke, but whatever it was, it was an accident. I’m sorry, I swear to God, I promise I am! I was on my way out of the city anyways, I’m not even staying in town anymore after today, so none of this is really even necessary! We can just forget about this and all go home. Both of us.” You try to plead your case as she continues walking circles around you, her chants getting a little louder as you notice the large ring of salt around the bulk of the room.

Shit. She’s a witch. Another one of Klaus’ warnings that you should have heeded… but how? What would you have done differently besides ask more questions about how to avoid them? Would he have even answered them for you?

“Oh honey, I wish it were that simple,” she smiles somberly, amused by your ignorance. “But I still need you to bring them here for me.” She sets her sage down somewhere that you can’t see, its earthy scent still lingering in your nostrils before she comes back into your field of vision. “Which shouldn’t be that hard at this point. I was planning on waiting a little longer before doing all this, planning to let you bond with them both just a little bit more, to really twist that knife. But you had to go and wise up, now didn’t you?” She shakes her head and laughs.

“What are you talking about?” You force your wrists upward again, testing the strength of the ropes one more time as their frayed strings cut into your skin, drawing little droplets of blood out in the process. “Wise up to what? Is this about Klaus, about Elijah?”

She nods. “A little slow, aren’t we, child? Did you honestly think that both of the original vampires could fall in love with ‘little old you’ at the exact same time? That it was mere coincidence that these two wildly different monsters wound up in your bed absolutely smitten with their little nurse?” She pulls out a phone… your phone that she had to have taken from you sometime between leaving your brother’s place and tying you up here. She holds it up to your face to unlock it and then turns it around to take your picture. “Smile for the camera.”

Wait, WHAT?! Is she saying that everything you’ve experienced in the past few weeks has been nothing more than a lie? A spell? A curse? But how could she do that? How could that BE?!

The flash nearly blinds you in your devastated stupor, forcing your eyelids to close as you hear her fingers type away on the digital keyboard of your smartphone, your eyes finally adjusting enough to see her grinning the entire time.

“You put a spell on me?” You venture a guess as your heart feels like it’s being torn in two, each tattered piece slowly sinking down to the very bottom of your chest.

How can what you feel for them not be real?

“The spell I cast is for all three of you, actually. It was the only way that any of this could work, and despite your little hiccup with the time frame, I think it will all work out in my favor.” She smirks with a tilt of her head. “Only one of them has true feelings for you, and you for them. But in order to find out which one, to break the spell, you have to choose one of them.”

“What? No… no, that’s not fair!” You scream shakily, the pain in your chest taking root in your stomach as nausea bubbles beneath the surface. You’ve already weighed the pros and cons of choosing one of them, and neither result is favorable. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why would anyone do this? You may have just moved here, child, but vampires and the Mikaelson family have been terrorizing the people of New Orleans for centuries; killing innocent people like my Charlotte just to get a meal, or simply for their own entertainment! I needed a way to divide their house, a way to tear their family apart from the inside out, and what better way to do it than with a pretty girl like you in their beds? Once they get here and find out the dirty truth, they’ll have no other choice but to destroy each other.”

“You’re sick, you know that?” Your lip quivers in fear, realizing now that you’re going to die here in this empty warehouse as you imagine the very worst ways for that to happen.

She puts your phone back in her pocket as it vibrates almost immediately, a smug look gracing her aging features as she glances up at you in silence, refusing to answer. She gives you a look that no one else has ever given you before, a look that shakes you to the very marrow of your bones; as if somehow you’re the answer to all of her malevolent prayers.

“Please!” You beg again, a single tear falling down your cheek as your sinuses begin to fill with a sick sorrow. You feel your heart race as the taste of bile backs up into your mouth as you watch her pull a large knife out of her bag, its blade glinting in the dim candlelight. “I don’t even know you! I’ll forget your face! I’ll leave them both alone, I swear, you’ll never see me again!”

You watch in awe and devastation as she raises the knife up into the air before cutting into her own palm, letting her blood drip onto the array of random objects and ingredients she has scattered on the floor.

“It’s too late for all that now, child. They’ll be here soon.” Her tone is cold and flat as she steps toward you, her blood glistening a ruby red on the blade before she drags it across both of your arms.

It stings at first, the piercing pain searing into each layer of your skin before cutting through to the muscle. Your own scream surprises you at first as it vibrates in your throat, nearly deafening you as it bounces off the empty walls of the warehouse. More tears stream their way down your reddened cheeks as she pulls the knife away, swiftly disappearing from sight as the pain from your wounds simmers into a low, heated throb. Your bound hands are unable to do anything to stop her or subdue the bleeding as it spills onto your thighs, staining your jeans a deep burgundy before the rest of it drips onto the floor in an off beat of the leaky ceiling.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

This is it, isn’t it?

——————

“It’s okay, I’m here now.” Elijah’s voice suddenly distracts you from the growing pain as it radiates up your arms, his nimble fingers making quick work of untying your right wrist.

Oh thank God, you think, just before remembering the rest of the witch’s plan. Uh-oh.

“Elijah, I’m so sorry.” You mumble, the rope digging deeper into your skin before it eventually eases up and releases your arm altogether.

“Shhh, don’t be sorry. I should have been here sooner. I should never have put you in any kind of danger.” His voice is tinged with a hint of fear and regret as he unties your other wrist and immediately bites into his, bringing it up to your lips to drink.

You open your mouth and swallow it without question, knowing that his blood will help heal your wounds and give you strength as he kneels to untie your ankles. You can feel it working almost immediately as the pain begins to dull, then subsides completely as your skin seems to stitch itself back together right before your eyes. You’ll never get used to that.

“There, you’re free.” Elijah gets up off his knees and reaches his hand out for you to take, a confused look knitting his brows together as you refuse to take it. “What is it?”

You can’t help but stare at Klaus as he storms through the entrance of the warehouse, his presence sealing your fate as he fulfills the requirements for the witch’s twisted revenge plot. His dirty blonde curls fall in front of his eyes as he takes in everything from your healing injuries, the tears on your cheeks to his brother’s blood smeared across your lips to tell enough of the story for him to clench his jaw in frustration.

“What’s all this, then?” Klaus’ tone is cold and dismissive as he waltzes toward you, noticing the familiarity between you and his brother while Elijah still reaches for your hand.

You remain speechless as you watch the wheels in his head spin, each cog fitting into the next as he puts all the pieces of the puzzle together, setting the blue of his eyes ablaze in an infernal, glowing yellow. But just as he’s about to open his mouth to speak, to yell and scream at you and Elijah, he steps into the circle of salt, igniting the candles that surround it with a nearly deafening WHOOSH.

Elijah flinches just slightly as the flames grow taller, turning reluctantly toward his brother, “Niklaus, what are you doing here?”

Niklaus? Who the hell is Niklaus?

“What am I doing here, you ask?” Klaus laughs, casually pointing to you as if you’re nothing more than a mere piece of furniture as you sit there, frozen in fear. “Well, I could ask you the same thing, dear brother. I just got a message that my lovely little protégé was being held here against her will, and here you are, so quick to swoop in and play the hero once again.” He smirks, tapping that pointed finger against his lips as he continues. “You know, I’m beginning to think that your desire to save her is fueled by much more than just your noble oath of ‘always and forever’.”

“Your protege?” Elijah’s breath catches in his throat as he looks at you before glancing back at his brother, eyes shining with the realization you’d hoped he’d never come to.

FUCK.

“You’ve been seeing her, too?” The hurt in Elijah's voice is everything you dreaded it to be, another painful stab in the series of a thousand tiny cuts that you’ve endured tonight. You watch him take a deep cleansing breath, shifting the weight in his hips as he tries to regain his composure before speaking again. “For how long?”

“Well, why don’t you ask her?” Klaus leans forward and grabs onto your neck with a nearly deadly squeeze, lifting you up so far out of your seat that your legs begin to dangle. “How long after I pulled out of you did you let my brother slip inside, hmmm? Did you even allow the paint to dry on your skin before letting him into your bed? How far did my come drip down between your thighs before you so desperately helped him out of his three piece suit, whore?!”

“Klaus…” You attempt to explain yourself as he squeezes even tighter, the betrayal in his eyes shifting to anger as your hands frantically grasp onto his fingers. “I didn’t know you were… it wasn’t my fault!” You gasp for air as he lifts you even higher, his strength so much greater than you could have ever imagined.

“I’m sorry, love, what was that? It sounded like you were trying to speak.” Klaus’ eyes glow gold again as the veins around them darken and engorge with blood, showing you a side of him you’ve never seen before as fangs descend from his canines. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Enough, Niklaus!” Elijah finally stops him, releasing his grip with a mere pinch to his brother’s wrist. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, but this is clearly some sort of… witch’s plot meant to trap us here. Perhaps we should focus on that instead of our menial transgressions against one another.”

Menial? Do you mean that little to Elijah? Does he even care?

Klaus stares at you like a lion would an antelope beneath its paw, ready for the kill at any point, but after what seems like an eternity of torment, he eventually softens. “Very well.” Klaus’ features return to normal before loosening his grip on your neck, gently lowering you back onto the chair as a growl brews just beneath the surface of his words. “After all, you always know best, now don’t you, brother?”

“She put a curse on all three of us! She needed to pit you two against each other!” You push your words out as fast as you can in your now gravelly voice, rubbing your palm across your neck to soothe the irritated skin.

Jesus!

“What else did she say?” Elijah consoles you with a palm to your cheek before pulling back a second later, feeling Klaus’ eyes on you both.

“She said that only one of you has real feelings for me. That I only have feelings for one of you. But we won’t find out who, we won’t be able to leave the circle until…” You choke up a little as they both stare at you with rapt attention. “Until I choose someone.”

Elijah clenches his jaw as Klaus huffs.

“Well, I say we get on with it then, love!” Klaus lifts his arms up in the air like the dramatic showman that he is. “Why waste any more precious time to chance?” He steps in close to watch every micro expression on your face as you wrestle with the pain and heartbreak of this zero-sum game that you’ve been forced to play with them. “Ticktock, darling.”

“I can’t…” you look into his eyes as he closes the space between you, your whole body trembling with the anticipation of what’s to come before looking over at Elijah for guidance. “I can’t possibly choose.”

“I see,” Klaus nods with a whisper, pressing his lips together as he pulls back from you slightly, his anger still simmering just below the surface. “Let me make it easy for you then.” He grins before instantly reaching back and snapping his brother’s neck with a loud CRACK, all while keeping his eyes fixated on you.

You gasp as Elijah’s limp body falls to the floor, your eyes darting back and forth between the two brothers dozens of times as fear immobilizes you completely, nearly paralyzing your lungs.

“I would have given you everything! Can’t you see that?” Tears blur in his eyes, making that deep blue seem a slight shade of green in the glowing candlelight. “How could you even think of choosing him after what he shared together? Just so you can be judged for every mistake, ridiculed for every flaw and controlled for the rest of your life? I would have let you be who you were meant to be! I would have helped you grow!” Those tears stream down his cheeks in tragic trails of saline, dripping down onto the floor as they mix in with your blood near his boots. “I would have loved you no matter what!!!”

His scream nearly shakes your entire body, triggering your lungs to expand again enough to take a gasping breath. You aren’t sure what to say, or what to do next, afraid that no matter what course of action you take, it will lead you down a road that ends up just like Elijah’s. So you decide to take a page out of his favorite book, to try to appeal to the monster before you.

“I was the one who had my brother look you up.” You confess, figuring you might as well tell him the whole truth. “I was scared that I was falling too fast for you, and I wanted to be sure that you were real, but when he came up with nothing… no driver’s license, no property, no nothing, I freaked out.” You pause and see the tension release a bit in his shoulders, urging you to keep talking. “I’ve been lied to a lot in the past, and I didn’t want to go through that pain again. I know now that I should have confronted you and asked you about it myself, but before I had the chance, we were attacked by those men warning us to forget your name. You can imagine why I didn’t come back to see you after that.”

Klaus’ maddening mask of anger morphs into a sullen shade of hurt as his tears curve down the outline of his pouty lips, reminding you of the champagne from the night you first met. He lets those tears fall down his face as he gently strokes your hair, searching your expression for any signs of deceit, but unable to find any.

“So you fuck my brother instead, thinking he’s the better, safer choice, hmm?”

Damn. So much for honesty.

“Klaus, please,” you beg, your tone changing to one of nervous desperation. “It was the curse, the spell… the witch, she…”

“And where is this witch now, hmm? How do I know you aren’t actively working with her to destroy me? That you haven’t been conspiring against me with my brother from the very second you stepped foot in New Orleans?” He cradles your face with both hands, an act that might normally be mistaken for intimacy, but in this case is clearly a threat.

“She was here just a second ago, I swear!” You feel your breath become more rapid and shallow as his fingers press against your scalp, this newly heightened state of stress dizzying you as he tightens his grasp. “Can’t you read my mind or something? Isn’t that one of your powers?” You offer up in a last ditch effort of transparency, hoping to God that all the vampire movies you’ve watched up until now haven’t led you astray.

He smirks as he watches you struggle, licking his lips before leaning in close enough to whisper into your ear. “I’ve got a better idea, one that’ll make your body choose once and for all.”

He bites into your neck without hesitation, pulling you in as close as possible as his fangs sink deep into your flesh, swallowing what little blood you have left. The pain is so much different than the cut from the witch’s knife, the sensation of his lips and tongue massaging your skin lulling you into a false sense of euphoria as you drift off to sleep.

------------------

Tags: @hcqwxrtss123 @hayleym1234 @derangedangel @spnaquakindgdom @natalie668 @arbesa-mind

[myuni-moon]

IT WAS JUST A JOKE AT FIRST. A funny little thing that you wanted to test, something born from your boredom and underlying fear of forever being unloved. You had written a letter of what you wanted your future partner to be like and put it under your pillow before going to bed - just like how the video told you. It was only going to be some manifestation, so how did you end up here?

You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyes shifting to every corner of the room reflected in it. There was something horribly wrong. You could feel it in your bones, that thrum of the unknown lurking in the shadows of your own mind. Something so real in your subconscious but so uncertain that it felt like you were going insane.

You gulped as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Were you going crazy? It wasn't like there was anything really wrong with you up until that point. Your mental health had actually been fine, and you're sure you hadn't accidentally been consuming anything that could be causing you to feel this way.

Maybe it was just stress or a weird week. It would blow over soon, becoming nothing more than a silly, little story you tell your friends when you get together once a month.

You sighed. You weren't going crazy; it was just a weird week. Yeah, a weird week.

A chill went up your spine, making you quiver. Your eyes darted around. Still, you found nothing out of place, but you couldn't seem to shake away the ring in your ears. It became louder and louder until it consumed your hearing entirely. It felt as if you were underwater, cotton blocking up your ears and making your head feel fuzzy. The shadows in your vision started to shift.

"It's so cute watching you, pretty," a voice rang out. Something deep and almost guttural. It chuckled, watching you hold yourself tighter. You were wrong, it was real - unfortunately and horribly real.

"I'm surprised, you know, dear. I never thought such an innocent thing like you could summon me."

Your nose scrunched up in confusion. The fuzziness in your head spread down your body, locking your limbs in place. Anxiety clawed at your stomach. In no way did you ever remember summoning anything.

"What do you mean?"

It laughed again. A small pressure pressed itself on your shoulders, as if fingers lingered there. "Silly, little creature. You're so endearing, aren't you?"

Another weight settled on your other shoulder, another ghost of a hand on your skin. Even worse after, the brush of something solid against your back frightened you despite there being absolutely nothing but you reflected in the mirror.

"What are you? What do you want from me?" You whispered. You heard the click of a tongue next, followed by a tut.

"Don't be so alarmed, sweet thing. I won't hurt you. I was made for you after all. You're very lucky. It's not every day Cupid decides to grant a wish."

You felt a caress against your cheek. The semblance of an entity gripped at your chin, locking your head in its grasp. Adrenaline trickled down your veins and screamed at your muscles to move, but your body refused to budge. You wanted to scream. You wanted to call out for help - anything to get you away from whatever it was that latched itself onto you. You prayed to anything for help.

It started with a breath that tickled your ears, as if something really was behind you. The graze of lips followed after, and you were helpless to the unwanted advances. Something slithered around your waist.

The lights flickered, and you became vaguely aware of the darkened pair of eyes which appeared in the reflection. Another second of darkness, hands. Everything followed after that, until you were face to face with the hauntingly charming face of the entity keeping you in his grip. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He was the spitting image of a sinner, tempting enough to entrance anyone who looked at him, but the aura of maleficence around him made him feel lethal.

"Call me Lucian, darling."

[kikyoupdates]

Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

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There are three possible love interests that you can pursue in the game.  

Firstly, Alistair Calderwood. Prior to meeting the heroine, he is engaged to the villainess, but holds no romantic feelings for her. Needless to say, he falls deeply in love with the heroine and ends his engagement, which drives the villainess absolutely insane. In Alistair’s route, her obsessive tendencies result in her regularly harassing the heroine. Although it starts off small, similar to playground bullying, it quickly devolves into something more vicious. On one occasion, she even succeeds in poisoning the heroine, though she survives because the dose is thankfully non-lethal. And also because of plot armor. Definitely plot armor.  

Anyways, long story short, the villainess spirals more and more due to her obsession with Alistair, and she is eventually punished for her crimes through execution—by none other than Carmine, the man standing before you.  

That’s only the first route, though.  

Carmine Mortis is the second love interest in the game. His is an admittedly clichéd story, with that whole trope of a knight falling for a noblewoman and coveting her affections, but societal norms and social status end up standing in the way of their relationship. It’s not a particularly original concept, but you’ve always had a soft spot for characters that will fight tooth and nail for their loved ones, which is why he was your favorite out of the trio.  

Eventually, Carmine and the heroine overcome all the obstacles in their way and obtain their happy ending. But this ending unsurprisingly comes at the cost of the villainess’ life. She is a recurring antagonist, regardless of whether or not you choose Alistair’s route and her engagement falls through. Yet another reason why you think she’s such a poorly written character, because her motives in this route are much less established. The premise of the game is that the heroine is from a failing noble household, and her family moves to a new kingdom after being driven from their own land. The villainess kind of just decides to pick on her when she is introduced into high society, for remarkably petty reasons.  

God. You seriously don’t know who’s writing these villainess-type characters, but it’s a literal tragedy how poorly done they are. How hard is it to create a convincing and humane antagonist that people can maybe even sympathize with at times? Even villains that are flat-out meant to be hated can still be well-written, provided you understand their motives and they have a compelling character arc.  

But you suppose it’s a bit too late for such criticism, because from now on, this isn’t just a story, and these people are no longer simply characters.  

This is your life.  

And you’re sure as hell not going to throw it away.  

Carmine purses his lips. “Is everything alright, my lady? You seem a bit disoriented. The shock of the situation must have really frightened you.”  

You blink, realizing that you’re still holding onto his hand after he helped you to your feet. You pull away as fast as you can, and while it’s true that coming face to face with your would-be executioner is jarring, to say the least, there’s no reason for you to actually panic at this stage.  

You are innocent. You have yet to commit any of the crimes the villainess did—and you don’t ever plan to. There’s no reason why Carmine would ever slice your head off with his sword. Having played the game, you know exactly how powerful he is, and how incredibly easy it would be for him to end your life, but there’s simply no situation where that would ever occur.  

As far as you’re concerned, this will be the last meeting the two of you ever have.  

“I’m fine,” you reassure. The longer you stare at him, the more you calm down. He’s still a knight, after all. A protector of the people. He only punishes criminals, and since you’re not a piece of shit (presumably), there’s no conflict to be had.  

“Why did you try to apprehend that thief all by yourself?” Carmine frowns. Rather than looking angry, he just looks confused, which seems to be how most people react to you these days. “Even if he wasn’t concealing a weapon, did you plan on restraining him on your own? He would have overpowered you with ease.”  

Well, that’s not necessarily true. You could have done… something. Probably. Maybe.  

…fine, it was a stupid, spur-of-the-moment idea. But at least your heart was in the right place.  

“I just wanted to help,” you shrug. “I couldn’t let that man get away with stealing. I wasn’t sure if anyone else would act in time, so I took my chances. Admittedly, the thought that he might have a weapon didn’t really cross my mind… but I’m sure he wasn’t actually going to hurt me.”  

From a little distance off, the thief, who has since been tied up and bound with rope, proceeds to glare at you. 

“No, I had every intention of stabbing you,” he states.  

“Oh. Well, that’s… good to know. Thank you for your candor, I guess.”  

You flash him an awkward thumbs-up, but he merely spits on the floor and curses you in response. Meanwhile, Carmine stares at you in abject horror, and Fiona looks like she wants to curl up in a ball and die.  

Carmine shakes his head. “Try to ignore him, my lady. Deplorable scum like that isn’t worth your time. I assure you, he will be punished accordingly. Not only did he steal, but he also threatened violence. It’s a good thing I was able to apprehend him before anyone actually got hurt.”  

You look back at the thief again, who is muttering under his breath, no doubt saying immensely unflattering things about you. Still, you catch him muttering something about ‘spoiled nobles’, and how ‘people like you will never understand what it’s like to go hungry’. While you certainly don’t condone his crimes, you try to remain sympathetic to the fact that there are people who are less fortunate than you, and sometimes, those people turn to drastic measures in order to survive.  

“I wish I’d at least ripped a hole in your stomach before I got arrested,” the thief snarls.  

Dude. You’re making it really hard to feel sorry for you right now.  

Carmine narrows his eyes. “On your feet, criminal. And don’t speak to her like that. Have you no concept of respect?”  

Carmine jerks the thief up by the rope binding his limbs together, and makes a big show of keeping one hand poised above the hilt of his blade. It’s a silent threat. A warning of what will happen if he doesn’t cooperate. 

“I need to have this man brought in,” Carmine says, turning towards you again. He pauses to look you over. It seems like he’s still worried you might be hurt, or perhaps shaken up, and it’s true that you were shaken up—but for a different reason entirely. 

After what feels like an eternity of silence, he smiles.  

“There’s no doubt that what you did earlier was incredibly reckless. However… I can appreciate that you have a penchant for justice. It’s very admirable that you were willing to put yourself in harm’s way to stop a criminal.”  

Oh, wow. He’s actually complimenting you? That’s awesome! This was pretty much exactly what you intended. The more favorable impressions people have of you, the better your reputation will be, and the less likely it is that you’ll find yourself on the wrong end of a pointed blade.  

It’s definitely going to take a while, but already, it looks like your villainess title is starting to be stripped away.  

“I just want to help, however I can,” you say, smiling sweetly and batting your eyes.  

Carmine chuckles. “Yes, well, your intentions are respectable, but from now on, please be more careful and avoid placing yourself in harm’s way. Us knights are always on the lookout for criminals. We’ll be sure to keep everyone safe.”  

“Will do, boss.”  

Your smile turns to a wide grin, and Carmine gives you a curious look, clearly not used to your modern-day slang. You’ve been trying to adopt the mannerisms and way of speaking of people in this setting, but it’s difficult to completely overwrite old habits. Maybe you’ll get used to it with time. Or maybe other people will get used to how much you’ve changed. Whichever comes first.  

What started off as a rather tense encounter has fortunately ended without any issues. If you avoid the heroine, there’s no reason your path should ever cross with Carmine’s again. It’s possible you might catch glimpses of him in town every now and then, but otherwise, you will both lead separate lives.  

So far, it looks like you’ve managed to distance yourself from two of the three major love interests in the game. Not bad for less than a week in your new body. Not bad at all.  

“God, I’m so epic,” you sigh. 

Fiona, however, doesn’t seem to think you’re that epic. In fact, she has rather strong opinions on the matter.  

“Lady [Name]!” she fumes, and you watch as she balls her hands into cute little fists and shakes them wildly. She’s clearly upset, but honestly, she’s just too adorable to take seriously.  

“What is it?” you chuckle.  

“How can you even ask me that? You could have gotten seriously hurt earlier! If that man’s knife had struck you, you could have died!”  

She gasps for breath after exclaiming her last point, more riled up than you’ve ever seen her. What a loud scream to be coming from such a small little maid. It’s actually rather impressive.  

“Yes, I was reckless,” you admit. You reach out, hesitating for a moment, then you grin and pat her on the head. “It’s a good thing you reacted so fast. I sure am glad I brought you with me. You saved my life, Fiona. You’re amazing.”  

Fiona bristles. “Huh? O-Oh. Well, of course! I couldn’t possibly have let my lady get hurt! B-But what you did still wasn’t safe! There’s no telling what could have happened if that knight hadn’t been passing by!”  

She puffs out her cheeks, still very much indignant, but it looks like she’s not opposed to you patting her head. It actually seems like she’s enjoying it quite a bit. 

You finally let your hand drop, then smile again. “You’re right, Fiona. That was very rash of me, and I promise it won’t happen again. I overestimated my authority and thought I could get a criminal to behave. I guess I just wanted to feel like I was doing a good deed.”  

Fiona’s eyes widen, and you can’t blame her, because based on everything she knows of the previous [Name], wanting to ‘do good’ must sound like some kind of sick joke.  

But you can see it in her expression. Slowly but surely, her doubts and reservations are melting away. Perhaps she felt your sincerity when you patted her head, or even before, when you expressed interest in remembering her name. Whatever the case, you can tell that she’s making an effort to look past all the offenses [Name] committed against her, and is choosing to believe in the you of the present.  

You’ve just gained the cutest little ally you could possibly ask for.  

“I-I understand what you were trying to accomplish, but it was still terrifying!” she insists. She presses a palm to her chest and exhales shakily. “Just… please don’t ever do that again. I’m not sure if my heart will hold out.” 

“Aw. I’m sorry for scaring you. Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.”  

You wink playfully, to which she just sighs and hangs her head in resignation.   

Still, Fiona has a point.  

At this rate, it’s much more likely that you’ll die because of your own stupidity, rather than the plot of the game.  

“...holy shit, is that stall selling mini donuts?!” 

“I’m telling you, honey, our daughter might actually be a genius!”  

Your father beams proudly as he flips through the latest pages of homework he assigned you. Needless to say, you completed everything again, and with stellar marks too. Your mother watches on with obvious skepticism, peeking out from behind her frilly hand fan. She can’t quite seem to wrap her head around what’s happening. As far as she knows, you’ve always been, well… an idiot.  

“[Name] really solved all of these questions herself?” your mother asks, still not buying into the whole thing.  

“She most certainly did,” your father hums. “I even sat here and watched her do it! Isn’t that incredible? To think that we were housing such a prodigy all this time!”  

You grin cheekily, to which your mother starts fanning herself faster, mumbling something inaudible under her breath. Probably to do with the fact that she thinks you might be possessed. It’s a popular theory that still hasn’t died down, by the looks of it.  

Whatever. You’re fully aware of the fact that you’re behaving very differently than the previous [Name], but you need to do this. You need to make a massive change, otherwise, there’s no doubt that people will resent you for the heinous acts the villainess committed before. Besides, it’s not entirely unheard of for people to reinvent themselves. It’s not especially common, but it does happen every now and then.  

Also, you think it’s really funny how your parents keep acting like you’re the second coming of Einstein. You’ve always considered yourself to be decently smart, but given how straightforward your father’s math problems are… they’re definitely giving you too much credit.  

Oh, well. It’s much better to have naive, supportive parents than ones that will make your life hell.  

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” your mother frowns. “[Name], you always used to whine and avoid studying. You said you would rather die than have to do homework, and one time you threw a fit and threatened to jump out the window.”  

“...”  

I already knew the villainess was a whiny little bitch, but come on. Whatever happened to standards, sis?  

“Um.” You awkwardly clear your throat. “Yes, well, I’d rather not speak of that incident. I’m embarrassed with how I behaved. It’s true that my sudden change in demeanor might seem rather shocking, but I really am trying to become a better, more accomplished person. Once I started actually applying myself, I realized it wasn’t as difficult as I initially thought. I only wish I’d done this sooner.”  

Unlike your father, who is absolutely giddy with the newly-improved version of his daughter, your mother seems to be much more dubious of this whole situation. Perhaps it’s a mother’s intuition or something. Obviously, she would never be able to guess that you’re an entirely different person trapped inside a new body, but it’s clear that she still has her suspicions.  

She snaps her hand fan shut, then nods. “I see. Well, this is a relief. It’s good to see you taking things seriously for a change. A strong work ethic is something to be admired.”  

She pats your shoulder and smiles encouragingly, but as she’s walking away, you swear you catch her frowning at you out of the corner of her eye.  

Yeah. She’s definitely not fully on board yet. You can only hope that, with time, she’ll come to accept the change.  

At least your father’s having a field day.  

“My darling little genius,” he praises, ruffling your hair affectionately. “[Name], I want you to know that your mother and I are both very proud of you. In fact, we’re considering finding a tutor for you to work with. Clearly, someone of your intellect needs to be challenged accordingly, and with their help, you’ll learn at a much more accelerated pace.”  

A tutor, huh? Well, you’re not opposed to it. You’ve spent the past few years of your life listening to countless professors drone on during lectures, most of which didn’t teach you jack shit. The better portion of your academic career has been self-taught. A tutor should be fine, because you get to work one-on-one with them and they’ll actually listen to your questions.  

“Of course, father. I’m excited to expand my knowledge and push past my limits.”  

He outright squeals in delight, then pulls you into his arms and gives you the biggest bear hug of all time. He was initially furious when you broke off your engagement with Alistair, but it looks like he’s completely gotten over to it.  

And to think that all it took was solving a few math problems. 

“Thank you, math,” you mumble quietly, which are undoubtedly words that nobody has ever spoken before.  

Your father eventually pulls away from you, still smiling. “Keep up the good work, my dear. And remember that we’ve been invited to attend a social function tonight. I wanted to remind you in case you’d forgotten. If you continue to be diligent with your studies, I’d be more than happy to let you pick out some new dresses for future events. You mentioned before that your wardrobe has been looking rather sparse as of late.”  

You’re tempted to roll your eyes, because what the villainess considers to be sparse is easily a hundred times more clothes than you’ve ever had. 

“Thank you for your generosity, father. I would certainly appreciate some new clothes, but I’ll shelf the issue for the time being. I’d like to make sure I’ve earned my reward. It still feels like I have a long way to go.”  

Your father chuckles. “My, my. To think that you’re even exerting so much restraint! Who are you and what have you done with my daughter? Haha.”  

“Haha… ha.”  

Don’t play with me, old man.  

He grins one last time, pure adoration in his eyes, before eventually leaving. So far, it’s pretty safe to say that your father is on your side, Fiona is loyal and is slowly coming around to the fact that you’re a better person, and your mother remains to be fully convinced. But either way, you’ve successfully broken up with Alistair and haven’t had to face any consequences, which is a win in your book.  

Now, then. It’s time for the most challenging task you’ve had thus far.  

Etiquette. 

Having played the game, you’re somewhat conscious of how certain characters within the nobility were expected to behave, but putting it in practice is a different matter entirely.  

Up until now, you’ve been able to get away with your crude, modern-day way of acting, mainly because you haven’t attended any parties or notable social gatherings. You’ve stayed within the confines of your manor, and save for when you went into town that day, you haven’t made any public appearances.  

This time, however, things are different.  

Your parents can mostly excuse your erratic behavior. You are their daughter, after all, and so long as no one important is there to bear witness, they don’t seem too concerned with it. But when faced with countless members of the nobility, most of which are looking for just about any opportunity to gossip and scrutinize, your carefree attitude won’t go over that well.  

Your one saving grace is that people already have a bad impression of the villainess. They already expect you to make rude, shameless remarks and go around trying to stir up trouble. Obviously, you won’t be doing any of that, but you hope that whatever mistakes you might make tonight will be overlooked. The last thing you want is to stick out like a sore thumb.  

“Can you believe it? [Name] actually had the gall to show up.” 

“Didn’t she make one of the other ladies cry at the last party?”  

“She did. I heard that poor thing couldn't handle the abuse and ran out into the garden, then she tripped and broke her ankle.”  

You blink tiredly.  

Looks like not standing out is a hollow dream. 

“Shh! She’s coming over here,” one of the gossiping women chides. They’re all huddled up in a group, but the second they notice you passing by, they throw on practiced smiles and pretend like nothing ever happened.  

“[Name]!” the same woman coos, using a very obviously fake, superficial tone of voice. She then curtsies, most likely because you outrank her. “Oh, how lovely it is to see you! I was wondering if you’d been invited. You always have a way of… spicing the evening up.”  

The women standing behind her giggle obnoxiously. It’s obvious that this is intended to be a passive-aggressive display, as well as an attempt to humiliate you. 

But what they don’t realize is that you’re not the same person anymore—quite literally. Therefore, no matter how they try to insult you, there’s no reason for you to take it seriously. And besides, your foremost concern is ensuring that you survive. What’s a few catty bitches compared to the threat of death?  

“Hello,” you smile. “It’s nice to see all of you as well. Also, in regards to what you were whispering about earlier, I’m afraid I don’t remember. Did I make someone cry? Truly, it must have slipped my mind. Perhaps I need a reminder.”  

They stiffen up, because normally in high society, these underhanded remarks are rarely acknowledged face to face. You’re expected to play the long game and retort with passive-aggressive comments of your own, not call them out on their bullshit.  

You have to admit, pretending to be a villainess can be pretty fun at times.  

“I-I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” the woman mutters. She then gestures towards her lackeys, glaring at you before she leaves. “I believe a close friend of mine has just arrived. You’ll have to excuse us.”  

They leave without further issue, good riddance. It’s best to keep people like that at arm’s length. You do want to establish a better reputation for yourself, but if you let others walk all over you instead of holding your ground, you’ll never be taken seriously.  

Anyways, for obvious reasons, it looks like most people are avoiding you. Officially, your parents are the actual guests, but as their daughter, you’re expected to accompany them. They’ve already gone off to exchange niceties with the host of the evening, which fortunately leaves you free to do what you want.  

And right now, what you want is to have some of that expensive wine that everyone’s drinking.  

There are a few servants roaming around carrying trays stacked with alcohol, and you gingerly pick up a glass, smiling appreciatively.  

“Thank you,” you say, and the servant reacts by flinching in surprise. Being thanked by the villainess is probably just as big of a shock as being hit by a bus.  

He scurries off, and surprise, surprise—no one else has come to talk to you yet. You take a sip of the wine and let out a sigh. Well, this is fine. From what you remember, the villainess doesn’t have many actual friends, for obvious reasons. There are a few noblewomen who occasionally flock around her and help her harass the heroine, but those same noblewomen also talk shit about the villainess behind her back, so it’s hardly a genuine friendship.  

You decide to make like a wallflower for a bit and just observe. There’s a lot to be learned, after all. High society has all kinds of unwritten rules, and the more you know, the better you’ll fare.  

Okay, so… that dude is apparently having an affair. Everyone knows it, including his wife, but they’re pretending like it doesn’t exist. And that woman over there showed up wearing the same dress as someone else, which is apparently mortifying enough to quietly cry over.  

“This is all so confusing,” you mutter, taking another gulp of wine.  

“What’s confusing?”  

You squeal. You’re so startled that you nearly drop the glass of wine in the process, but fortunately, your amazing (self-proclaimed) reflexes kick in just in time.  

Some rude bastard just snuck up on you! The absolute nerve! You’re actually about to chew him out for it, since you nearly had a damn heart attack, but you stop yourself the moment you make eye contact.  

Standing before you is none other than the third and final love interest—Flynn Pearce.  

Flynn leans closer, tilting his head. “What’s so confusing? You look unusually focused. I noticed you standing over here and mumbling to yourself. You seem to be drinking much more slowly than usual too.”  

You press your lips together. The third love interest from the game, Flynn, is none other than the villainess’ close childhood friend. They basically grew up together. That’s how far back their friendship dates. This of course means that when he starts developing feelings for the heroine, someone that the villainess has decided she hates, she openly expresses her disapproval and makes efforts to keep the two of them apart.  

Flynn is an interesting character, because he’s a bit more morally gray than the other love interests. He is obviously aware of all the villainess’ flaws, but still defends her in the initial acts of his route, because of their long-standing friendship. Unlike Alistair, who is written to be charming, poised, and compassionate, or Carmine, who despises acts of injustice and can’t stand the villainess’ wrongdoings, Flynn isn’t meant to be so clear-cut. It takes a while for him to come to terms with his feelings for the heroine and realize how permissive he’s been of the villainess’ behavior over the years. His character arc leads him to realize how guilty he is by association, and after dealing with the self-loathing that comes with this realization, he eventually casts the villainess out of his life.  

This is the only ending where the villainess isn’t executed by Carmine. In an act of hateful desperation, she lunges at the heroine with a knife, fully intent on killing her.  

But the villainess obviously doesn’t succeed, and instead, she finds that same knife plunged into her chest.  

By none other than her dearest friend.  

You could argue that Flynn is the only real friend the villainess ever had, which could have potentially made her death more tragic, if not for the fact that she was horribly written and had no redeemable qualities.  

Anyways, that same friend is now standing right in front of you. Just like Carmine, if you make the wrong choices and somehow end up tangled in the plot, he too has the potential to end your life.  

It’s always fun staring death in the face.  

“Um, nothing really,” you say, doing your best not to openly grimace. “I was just thinking… that this wine is a weird choice. I’m not sure why they picked it. It’s a bit confusing, is all.”  

Flynn frowns. “I tried the wine. Didn’t you say before that it was one of your favorites?”  

“Oh. D-Did I? Well, maybe the batch is off or something. Either way, it’s not a big deal. I’ll drink it all the same.”  

To prove your point, you throw your head back and chug the rest of the wine. Come to think of it, you do recall that the villainess is a bit of a heavy drinker. You suppose you should do your best to play the part.  

You hoped that would put Flynn’s suspicions to rest, but instead, he narrows his eyes even further. 

“Not a big deal…? If the wine really wasn’t to your taste, surely you’d have more to say about it. Normally, you would have been more vocal about your complaints. I remember you once argued with the hosts for their poor choice of hors d’oeuvres.”  

You gape at him. 

Oh my god. Fuck you, shitty villainess! Why do you have to be such a massive asshole all the time? It’s impossible to meet your ridiculously trashy standards! 

“Ah, right,” you chuckle, hurrying to compose yourself. You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s true. To be honest, I have a lot of improvements in mind for tonight, but I’m rather tired. I just don’t have the energy to go and throw their mistakes in their face. Besides, incompetent people will never learn, I’m afraid. It’s just a waste of my time. Anyways. I’m off to go grab more wine! It may not be good, but it’s palatable, at the very least. I need something to keep me busy for the rest of this mind-numbing ordeal.”  

You leave without giving him another chance to comment. Shit! You weren’t expecting to run into him so soon, and you knew from the start that he’d be the most troublesome one to deal with, since he knows the villainess so well. It won’t be as easy to cut him out of your life as it was with Alistair and Carmine. You’ll need to avoid him to the best of your ability, but you just don’t know how.  

While you clumsily weave through all the people, freaking out internally, Flynn stares at you from afar, without blinking once.  

He purses his lips.  

“She’s… acting strange.”  

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[reriart]

[Heinrix x F!RogueTrader] A Sweet Heart

Summary: The Rogue Trader has called Heinrix… to eat some biscuits. Some sexual tension rises between the two and ends with a sweet promise. You can read it on AO3 too at this link. Tags: fluff, unresolved sexual tension, sfw with some hints *wink wink*

Notes: This is my first WH40K fic ever! I've been a huge fan of this universe for almost 10 years. While I didn't liked Owlcat's Rogue Trader videogame immediately, I've become fond of it later. Now I'm obsessed XD I've started playing the game for Marazhai but I fell in love with Heinrix :) This experimental one-shot is based on our favorite biomancer's official background: he can't cook! I hope to write something more elaborate in the future... this one was my way to test how to write about these two idiots. I hope you'll enjoy this silly fic.

Thanks to J., @icastcoconoclast, @blue124th, and also a huge thank you to @redbatchedcumbermayned, who supported me a lot. ^_^

“Van Calox! Interrogator Van Calox!”

Abelard’s voice was clearly recognizable, although distorted by the vox he wore. Composed, austere. Heinrix couldn't take it any longer. Something about how he was forced to listen to  these comments every time they set foot on a different planet or, even worse, every time he tried to direct a word to Cassandra, the former Astra Militarum officer. Despite her young age, she had climbed the ranks, far too quickly in his opinion. Just at the incredible young age of 30, she had succeeded in obtaining the title of Rogue Trader, gained almost absolute power and a noteworthy business network. Her nom de guerre, “banshee”. Just like the creature of legends, she had pale skin, long black hair, eyes of a light green that looked like glass, and... she was lethal.

“Van Calox!”

Heinrix ran a hand through his dark hair, huffing. “Come in, seneschal.”

The mechanical door swung open, emitting an agonizing creak. The man entered briskly, then stopped in front of the black desk in the center of the room, hands behind his back. He smelled of boot wax, cologne and ... spices?

Heinrix stood up, making his way around the table. He glanced at the clock: dinnertime, an unusual time of day for a visit by Werserian. Perhaps the scent was related to something exotic being served in the refectory.

“To what do I owe the honor?”

Abelard raised the chin, clearing his voice. “I have come straight from the Lord Captain's chambers, Master Van Calox. Lady Cassandra requests your presence there in fifteen minutes,” he announced, his sole remaining human eye now narrowed and intent on analyzing his every step and reaction.

Heinrix reciprocated the gaze, clenching his jaw. 

“Thank you, seneschal. However, I guess you are not here just for this purpose; otherwise, you could have reached me by vox.”

“Indeed,” Abelard replied, blinking as if taken by surprise. The bionic eye pulsed with a red light. “I wanted to talk to you about the Magnae Accessio.”

The Rogue Trader's ascension on Dargonus would be held in several months. So why talk about it right now? Heinrix frowned, intrigued, and nodded to the seneschal to continue.

“It will be a celebration throughout the galaxy. The Lord Captain notified me this day that it will be you and I, Master Van Calox, standing by her side during the ceremony,” he continued, then cleared his throat with a cough. “This is a great honor for both of us. This gesture will make public the relationship between the Inquisition and House Von Valancius, among other things.”

He felt his cheeks on fire and immediately called upon his powers to slow the flow of blood that was flowing straight to his face at an insane speed. It was not like him to blush, but the realization that Cassandra had requested his presence knotted his stomach, causing him to feel increasing heat in his chest. Pride? Affection?

He allowed his imagination to wander for a fleeting moment. Dressed in a long gown, she sat on the throne, her pale skin contrasting with the dark fabric.

The green eyes intent on observing him, then giving him the sincerest of smiles. The hand, with a plethora of scars, between his own. 

Heinrix. Stay with me.

Here, in Dargonus.

He shook his head, trying to banish the vision. He could not allow himself to daydream as if he were the protagonist of one of Lady Cassia's beloved books. Then the heat in his ribcage turned into a tightening. Why had she sent the seneschal to tell him this news? Why had she not done so herself?

“It would be a great honor. I will make sure to be all set for the occasion.”

Abelard flattened his mustache. “I suggest an appropriate suit for the occasion. I presume the Inquisition has provided you with formal attire...and, mind you, no gifts: they will be the prerogative of the guests, not our Lady's entourage. Be sure to investigate the records of the principal invitees,” he said, handing him a datapad, then stepping back, bringing his own arms behind his back. “That will be all.”

Heinrix absentmindedly scrutinized the list of names. He already knew almost all of them and, in all likelihood, those he had never heard of were probably useless pawns in a regicide chessboard already filled with pieces.

“I will take care of it as soon as possible. Now, though, the Lord Captain awaits me.” He stood up, retrieving his crimson cloak from the coat rack. “Have a good night, seneschal,” he murmured, thankful to be done with it, for the tone of his cheeks was not much different from the piece of cloth in his hand.

*** 

When the elevator reached the Lady's quarters, Heinrix's senses were immediately tantalized by a strong, pleasant fragrance. He allowed his powers to probe, gliding through the corridors until he located the room from which the spicy aroma was coming. He walked on, only to clear his throat. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. On all the occasions when he and Cassandra had been alone, she had shown some affection toward him, even if they were only a few caring gestures. Sweet words that concealed an attention the man was not used to.

Are you getting enough sleep, Master Van Calox?

The uniform suits you particularly well today.

I like your haircut.

“Lord Captain? Have you...”

When Heinrix arrived at the main room, he found all the furnishings quite different from the way he had seen them the last few visits he had made. Instead of the various trophies, among monster heads and xeno artifacts, there was now a long stone and golden shelf, and next to it, a stove. In the center stood a kitchen island adorned with the family insignia.

Cassandra, in shockingly casual clothes - just simple cargo pants and a black shirt - was kneading something.

Her tapered, pale fingers, almost silvery from the incredible number of scars, were playing with what Heinrix hazarded to be ... well, he didn’t know, because he'd never cooked anything in his life but camp rations. Nor had he ever actually seen anyone cook.

“Oh, Master Van Calox! You're finally here!”

The woman's voice, despite the name that haunted her, was often cheerful and ringing, in stark contrast to his voice, which was almost always stern. She wiped her hands in the basin of water on the table, then dried them. She approached him,  and he bent his head enough to kiss the back of her hand. The Interrogator's index finger slid lightly to the center of Rogue Trader's wrist, and Heinrix relaxed control over his powers, allowing him to appreciate the woman's pulse, the scent of spices hovering over her skin.

The air suddenly grew cold, and he withdrew his own hand abruptly.

“You called me, Lady Von Valancius?”

She smiled, if visibly a little puzzled by the drop in temperature. She closed and reopened her right hand a couple of times, then returned to the table in the center of the room.

“Would you like to keep me company while I bake some cookies?” she asked, blowing away an unruly wisp that had escaped from her long, voluminous tail. When she was in battle, the woman sported a striking mane as black as the void, made of bright, lustrous black waves. However, Heinrix had noticed that when he could finally return to her beloved Unforgiven, the woman preferred to tie them into a tail or a long braid. As a matter of practice, he would have easily imagined the opposite.

He, however, loved her with her hair undone. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining kissing such hair, inhaling its scent. He clenched his jaw, trying to banish that thought.

“I ... certainly,” he lied. He wished he could go back to his room and get to work. Safe, away from whatever strange, inappropriate scenario his imagination kept coming up with regardless of his efforts. He stood where he was, feeling uncomfortable, his arms behind his back. “Do you wish to talk about anything? The seneschal has just...”

“Oh, come on!” she teased him, as she resumed kneading. The blue veins under her almost transparent skin danced to the rhythm of her movements. Heinrix observed her, captivated. Despite having spent so many years in the Astra Militarum, the woman possessed incredible grace. “You don't want to stand there all the time like a servitor. Have you ever cooked?”

“I'm afraid not,” he replied, flustered. “My family had personal chefs. And since I left...” he continued, scratching at the top of his neck, ”...let's just say the food on this ship is very good.”

Cassandra rolled out the fragrant dough with a rolling pin, applying pressure. The muscles in her arms swelled slightly, emphasizing the veins that ran along them like climbing plants. Heinrix focused all his attention on the woman, then swallowed and tried to spread his collar a little wider.    

“And, tell me, Master Van Calox...have you ever tasted flour? Some real flour?” she asked, smiling and red-cheeked.

He squinted his eyes. He looked first at her, then at the big bag of dust by the counter.

Aeldari characters.

He raised a finger, pointing it at the woman. “Lady Cassandra, I would like to remind you...”

“What, Heinrix?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He swallowed, feeling his stomach clench violently. He would have liked to hear his name called again in her voice. “Do you want to, I don't know, interrogate me? Am I a threat to the Imperium just because I bake treats? Let me remind you of my position as Rogue Trader,” she smiled slyly, as she bent to open the oven: apparently she had already baked some cookies. Helping herself with gloves three times the size of her hands, she pulled out the tray and set it on the stone. The scent, sweet and spicy, filled the rooms with disarming speed. Thanks to his powers, he could smell the same delicious aroma on her snow-white skin, on her clothes, on her hair.

...On her lips?

Only then did he notice how shiny and full they were. He looked at the table and noticed a thick, amber liquid with a pleasant smell. He was tempted to taste it ... but it was definitely another xenos product. He would rather starve to death than eat filthy food.

“I didn't say that, but you should avoid consuming food of questionable provenance. Only that which is imperial sourced is reliable.”

She set about cutting the dough with the help of a goblet, creating wide circles. “Well, I bought it on Footfall thanks to Jae. Imperial enough, if you ask me.”

That woman was impossible. Heinrix sighed, pinching the bridge of his own long, straight nose with his fingers. “You are irresponsible, Lady Cassandra. Let me tell you.”

“Is that so? Despite my years of service in the Astra Militarum, am I being declared irresponsible just because I am enjoying my life a bit?” she asked, curious, as she placed the disks - some more precise, some less so - on another baking tray, and then placed it in the oven. She then picked up one of the already-baked cookies and, after careful inspection, bit into a piece. A slight crack interrupted the silence between the two, and then she licked her lips, catching the crumbs that had escaped her. “And what else am I to your eyes, Master Van Calox… Heinrix?”

His attention was all on those plump, red petals. He found it difficult to search for a meaningful answer. He looked up at the forest-green mirrors as soon as he heard his own name, feeling his heart skipping a beat.

“You are irresponsible, I have already said that. Flamboyant. Eccentric. On the battlefield you are a fury and risk your neck every time,” he began, as his eyes descended on her exposed neck. A blue vein, almost perfectly straight, divided her neck vertically. He wished he could have caressed her, felt her pulse. He wetted his lips and blinked, trying not to be distracted. “And young, too young, to be a Rogue Trader.”

He came closer to her, as if attracted by an invisible force. He tilted his head slightly. “You are also fearless -- brave. Despite being hotheaded, you also manage to care for your comrades on the battleground. All attributes that have made your career.”

She smiled, her cheeks a little red. He could feel the warmth of her skin.

“And you know what you are?” she whispered, her eyes firm on his lips.

“What?” he asked, his voice even more barely audible as he stroked the stone of the shelf with one hand, catching Cassandra between it and his body, yet without letting the bodies touch.

What was he doing?

“...a xenos cookie eater!” she laughed, shoving a cookie into his mouth with a speed to make a Drukhari envious.

He jumped on the spot, furrowing his brow and making to spit, but Cassandra promptly put a finger to his lips. “No. Just chew. Let yourself go a little. No one will know that you have eaten non-imperial food. It will be our secret.”

He tried to disagree, but a wave, sweet and spicy, tantalized his taste buds. He chewed slowly, without taking his eyes off the pale index finger.

How could hands so full of scars be so soft?

It was ... delicious. The best thing he had ever tasted in his life. During his years with the Inquisition, Calcazar had often taken Heinrix with him to prestigious dinners; he had then participated in undercover operations, where banquets with nobles were a must if he wanted to extort important information. But never, ever had he tasted anything so unique: the food of the Imperium was often bland or strongly chemical tasting. But that one? It tasted of a childhood he had never had. Of peace, tranquility. Of an evening without work, spent reading and sipping a hot beverage. Things he had never experienced in his life.

He swallowed, parting his lips. The stoic mask gave way to a sudden and, just vaguely hinted at, smile. “Where did you learn? I've never tasted anything like that.”

“My home planet is vaguely similar to Catachan: you really have to get your claws out to survive. But...” she explained, now in a wistful voice, as Heinrix gave her room to move. She took some cookies and placed them in a small tin box. “...It was not always so. The animals changed because of the warp during my teen years. Before then I lived with my family... unaware that I was a Von Valancius. I didn't even know who Theodora was. My mother loved to cook and taught me many recipes. Would you like to try some more, Master Van Calox?”

“Heinrix.”

She tilted her head to the side.

“In private ... you can call me by my name, as you did before,” he almost stammered. He felt his cheeks burning. “And yes, I would like that very much.”

To the void, the xeno ingredients...

She smiled, her eyes bright and happy. She took his left hand, resting the box in his palm, then resting his other hand on it.

“Do you remember when you offered to teach me Regicide, Heinrix?” Cassandra took care to say his name slowly, her gaze now turned to the chessboard on the opposite side of the room.

He looked at the box, savoring its cool temperature compared to his skin, which was getting hot, and then followed her eyes. The memories of that invitation made him smile. “Certainly.”

“Then meet me here, every seven days, at this hour. You will teach me how to play, and I will cook you something different each time. Maybe I'll even make an effort to use less...exotic products. Now, I think it's good for me to rest, the day has been exhausting. Good night, Heinrix.”

He smiled, gently kissing the back of her hand, savoring her soft skin. He left another kiss, this time far from the polite greeting everyone reserved for the woman, on her spice-scented fingers. He felt her pulse race dramatically.

“I will look forward to these seven days with delight, each and every time. Good night...Cassandra.”

[xetlynn]

Twilight- Youngest Shadow: Chapter Nine, Memories

(Alice X Reader X Jasper)

[Eight] [Nine] [Ten]

“He’ll forgive you two.” Edward was at Bella’s side of the window, startling both of us. “Scoot over.” She listens, sliding over and I try to make as much room as possible. He takes over the wheel. “His face… I said the same words my mother used when she left him.” She slumped and slowly took my hand in hers. I stared out the window but still listened to them talk. “It was the only way he’d let you guys go.” Edward then floors it and it makes me wonder if this truck can even handle that. “Your father’s safe now Bella. The tracker is following us.” 

It feels as if I can breathe lighter but at the same time, I’m scared of what’s going to happen. Then a dark figure jumps onto the bed of Bella’s truck. Bella screams as I let out a tiny noise, gripping her. I think her scream scared me more than what jumped onto the truck. “It’s alright, it’s just Emmett. Alice is in the car behind us.” He informs us, I look back to see Emmett standing there, he gives me a smile, waving and I do the same. Well, I tried to.

Arriving at their house Edward, Emmett, and Alice rush us to get inside but we all came to a harsh stop when the door opened and it is revealed to be Laurent. “He came to warn us. About James,” Carlisle announces and they back down from their attacking posture. “I’ve grown tired of his games. But he’s got unparalleled senses. Absolutely lethal. I’ve never seen anything like him in three hundred years. And the woman, Victoria will back him. Don’t underestimate her.” Laurent is warning them, trying to tell them this won’t be a normal fight even if he’s cornered or one against all of them.

He then turns to Edward. “I’m truly sorry for what’s been unleashed here.”

He walks off disappearing into the woods. We’re now in a garage with the Volvo, a red BMW, a black Mercedes Sedan, and an SUV. Rosalie was grabbing everything, cell phones, extra batteries, maps, portable GPS units, change of clothes, cans of gasoline and so many other things. 

“I’ve had to fight our kind before. We’re hard to kill.” Jasper says while standing beside me. “But not impossible, We’ll tear him up,” Edward says as if to reassure us. “We'll rip him apart with our hands then burn the pieces.” Emmett joins in with blood lust and it almost made me want to laugh but of course, under the circumstance, I’ll look psychotic. “I don’t relish killing another creature. Even a sadistic one like James.” Carlisle deadpans. 

“If he doesn’t get to one of us first,” Rosalie says and I glance over to Bella who had a horrified expression. “This is insane. You can’t put yourselves in danger like this for me.” She tells all of them and I sort of sit there for a moment not understanding why she only said it for her like I’m not a part of it as well. “Too late.” Rosalie rolls her eyes. “And it’s not just for you. [Name]’s in this too.” She sticks up for me but I notice Edward shoot her a look. He grabs two sets of keys, throwing one at Carlisle.

“I’ll run Bella and [Name] south, while you lead the tracker away.” He says but his foster dad disagrees. “No, Edward. The tracker thinks you won’t leave Bella. He’ll follow you. His main focus was how you reacted to him sniffing out Bella.” Again this feels off, it really feels like they’re only worry is Bella and if that’s the case why am I a part of this. Then Alice steps up.

“I’ll go with them. Jasper and I will drive them south. I’ll keep her safe Edward.” 

Edward looks frustrated, Alice steps one closer. “Can you keep your thoughts to yourself?” Edward studies her, obviously torn. She nods and the two have an unspoken agreement. He surrenders the keys to her and then goes to Bella and Mine’s suitcase. 

“Esme, Rosalie put these on so the tracker will pick up their scent, mainly Bella’s.” I was slumped once again, I felt Jasper tense but not saying anything. “Why should I? What is Bella to me? [Name] I understand she’s been in the family for years but Bella’s just a danger you’ve inflicted on us.” Rosalie was man, not understanding this at all if that wasn’t obvious. “Rosalie, Bella is with Edward she’s a part of this family now. And we protect the family.” Carlisle was strong with his words and the blonde listens, resistently picking up the clothes. He then hits a button and the large metal doors open. 

Jasper and Alice lead me to the car, Edward and Bella have their own little moment together before we have to leave. I lean against the car. “You’re confused.” Jasper quietly says and I shrug. “I’m not understanding why I’m here if you guys are only really worried about Bella. The tracker doesn’t seem to want me.” I cross my arms, and they both stared at me. “What?” Alice raises an eyebrow. “James doesn’t want you dead. He wants to torture you.” Jasper informs me and my eyes widen, not expecting that. “He knows of your past lives he wants to hurt you enough to where you remember him.” He tells me and I think back to Esme and Carlisle’s conversation. “A near-death experience.” I think out loud, their eyes shoot up at me. “I uh I overheard Esme and Carlisle talking the night you invited me over to meet them. That’s what I was panicking about.” I sigh, they don’t say anything at first.

“I kind of came to comfort with it but I am scared nonetheless.” I laugh nervously, Alice was hard in thought as Jasper seemed saddened by what I said. “I think what really bothered me was you two wouldn’t warn me.” That was all I told them as I got into the car after I noticed Bella was coming towards the car. 

Jasper has been driving as Alice was in the passenger seat. Bella had just stopped crying, her eyes were red and puffy. “Mom, it’s me again. You must have let your phone die. Anyway, [Name] and I are not in Forks anymore but we’re okay. I’ll explain everything when you call.” She hangs up the phone and looks out the window right as we pass the Olympic Peninsula sign.

Now in a hotel room, I sit on Jasper’s lap as the three of us stare at the t.v. screen. They haven’t brought up our conversation from before the drive and honestly, I’m a little grateful. I’m not in much of a mood to talk about any of it. They bought a ton of food too and I don’t think they realize with our lives on the line there isn’t much of an appetite to be had. “I wish he’d call.” Bella suddenly says as she enters the room we’re in. “You two should eat.” Alice ignored her words, her hand has been laid on my knee. I shrug, leaning back onto Jasper. Bella flops down to see. “They could get hurt, it’s not worth it.” She insists and I hum in agreement.

“Yes, it is.” Jasper disagrees and Bella is shocked as he doesn’t really engage with her often due to his thirst troubles. “Edward’s changed since he found you. And none of us want to look into his eyes for the next hundred years if he loses you.” He turns back to the t.v. his hand now rubbing the outside of my thigh. “It’s worth it.” 

Then Alice goes blank, Jasper and I stand up immediately and he goes up to her. “What do you see?” He asks her and her face is full of deep worry. “The tracker, he just changed course.” She tells us and I glance over to see a pencil and a pad of paper. I grab it, handing it over to Jasper who gives it to Alice. “Where will it take him, Alice?”

“Mirrors, it’s a room full of mirrors.” She begins to draw at lightning speed, her eyes shut to help her remember perfectly. “How do the visions work? Edward said they weren’t always certain.” Bella questions, standing behind the two of them as I’m kind of off to the side. 

“She sees the course people are on, while they’re on it. If they change their minds the visions change.” Jasper explains and Bella looks over at the drawing. “So, the course James is on now will lead him to a ballet studio?” 

Alice snaps her head to look over at her. “You’ve been here?”

“No. I don’t know. We used to take ballet lessons as kids. The school had an arch like that.” She points to the room and now that I take a look I remember the room. “Was your school here, in Phoenix?” I nod but don’t speak up. “Yeah, around the corner from our house, but we haven’t been there in ten years.” Bella was confused about why he was going there. “Do you have any reason to go now?” He questions but it was mainly for her as he knows I would have no interest in going to a dance studio. 

“No. Hell no. I hated that place.” 

Alice and Jasper share a look right when a cell phone rings. Bella jumps but picks it up, I watch relief fall over her once she sees the caller's I.D. “Edward. Are you alright?” 

“I’m coming to get you. We lost the tracker. The woman is still in the area. Rosalie and Esme are protecting your father.” We could hear him as he spoke through the phone. “This is my fault. You warned me, I didn’t think. I just-: He cuts her off. “Bella we’re in too deep. We can’t change how we feel.”No, we can’t. When will you get here?” She was antsy to see him again. “In a couple hours. Then you and I will go somewhere. Together. The others will keep hunting. Bella, I swear to you I’ll do whatever it takes to make you safe again.”

 

They hang up the phone and everything else moves quick as Alice and Jasper left us in the room to go check out.  Bella and I gather our things, then her phone rings again and I go over to her to look over her shoulder. It was mom. “Mom, I’m so glad you got my-” “Bella,  Where are you and your sister?” She was panicked and I hold onto my sister. “Calm down mom. Everything is fine, okay? I’ll explain every-” Then it sounds like the phone drops as we hear rustling in the background. “Mom? Are you there?” 

“Nice house you have here. Not the best on the black but comfortable.” A voice we did not want to hear, my eyes widened and I hear Bella shiver. “I was prepared to wait for you two. But then mom came home after she received a very worried phone call from your dad. It all worked out quite well.” He tells us and I squeeze my eyes shut and lean my head down. “I must say, Forks High School doesn’t protect its students' privacy very well. It was just too easy for Victoria to find your previous address.” James was mocking us. 

“Bella? [Name]?” 

“Leave our mother out of this,” I say. “You’re protective of her. That’s nice. You can still save her. But you’ll need to get away from the other two lovers. Can you two do that?” 

“I don’t think so.” Bella sighs. “If your mother's life depends on it?” And it looked like we didn’t have much of a choice here. “Where should we meet you?” 

“The old ballet school around the corner. And I’ll know if yo bring anyone. Poor mommy would pay the price for that mistake.”We then hear him sniff the air. “She smells like you, Bella. Delicious.” He taunts but she hands up the phone, both of us now freaking out.  

I watch her look around in the drawers searching for something then closes them, rushing to her purse and dumping everything that was in it out. Grabbing her pepper spray. “You have yours?” She asks and I lift mine up from my pocket, she gets all her stuff back into the purse, grabs it, and then we lock hands and run out of the room. Once we get to the lobby we scan for Jasper and Alice. I point outside where they’re under the Porte Cacher. We slip out the opposite door getting into a taxi, this older lady in the driver's seat. “8th and Palo Verde, please.” 

Instead of a near-death experience, it’s just death with my sister.

Not the way I had thought we’d go. 

At least we’re together in this life.

My next one will be alone, but I’ll find the love of my existence once again.

Getting to the dance school, we rush out of the taxi. It pulls away and it doesn’t feel like I’m about to be tortured just for living so many lives. It makes me reminisce about the feeling of me being here as a kid with Bella. She absolutely hated it, the kids making fun of her and me hitting a kid is what got us kicked out. I take a deep breath through my nose as Bella reaches for her spray as mine was already in my hand. I think back to Alice and Jasper knowing they probably just realized we are missing and my heart physically hurts having to go behind them. We walk closer and we hear our mom's voice. “Bella? Where are you and your sister?” We get through the doors that were already unlocked, the room full of mirrors that Alice had drawn out earlier. 

“Bella? [Name]?” We search for where her voice is coming from and we land upon the door to a closet. Bella throws the door open. It was a t.v. screen and a video is playing of Bella and me at the ages 7 and 6. Little Bella looks up as I was hugging her. It was in this exact closet too. “Don’t you want to dance, baby?” Little Bella shakes her head as little me pushes away gently but I was visibly angry. “Everyone makes fun of me.” Bella cried out. “I’ll fight them all, Mom! I will!” Little me says and Rene laughs, giving the camera to someone else, she kneels down to both of us. “[Name], no violence.” Then she looks right at Bella. “But you’re a wonderful dancer.” She tries to encourage her. “Mom, I suck.” Then laughter emits from behind us, and we spin locating James in the mirrors.

“That’s my favorite part. Stubborn children weren’t you both?” Bella steps closer to him with rage but then has a feeling of relief shower through both of us as we realized he never had our mom captive.”She’s not here.” Bella mutters.

“Sorry, but you two really made it too easy.” He sighs, disappointed then he gets walks to us, pointing with a camera at us. “So to make things more entertaining, I’m going to make a little film of our time together. Borrowed this from your house, hope you guys don’t mind.” He turns it on. “And… Action!” Bella flings her purse at him, gripping my arm to make a run for it. It was no use as he was right behind us. “Excellent! An escape attempt!” He was excited about this and it made me sick. “It’ll break Edwards's little heart.” He smells her hair, touching her hair. 

“Edward has nothing to do with this.” She angrily states as I slowly back up he ends up snatching my other wrist that wasn’t taken by Bella. “He will, His rage will ake for more interesting sport than his feeble attempt to protect you. And not only him but Alice and Jasper? They think I just want you to remember me, don’t they?” He laughs, having too much fun to notice Bella take out her pepper spray, spraying him. He only backs away for a brief moment but doesn’t let me go. She makes another run for it, he lifts me up over his shoulder and jumps right in front of her. I struggle against him, kicking my legs. He throws me into one of the main mirrors causing it to shatter over me. He does the same thing to Bella and she smashes into one of the mirrored columns. He captured it all on film too. “Beautiful, a very visual dynamic I chose my stage well.” He advances over to her as I try to sit myself up feeling every bone in my sides and back. “Still stubborn, aren’t you? Is that what makes you special because frankly, I don’t see it.” He inhales as if he’s already tasting her. He walks in my direction as Bella is slightly dazed and I push back further into the wall as if that will do anything. 

“See I thought you were unkillable when I first met you. It was maybe your second or third life. Did you know that none of them last over 22 years? Crazy huh?” He rubs his lips together, remembering all the times he’s seen me. “This is probably your sixth life and I’ve got you two times already! Of course, your little lovers didn’t know that until Edward told them!” He laughs like an insane person… which he is. “What.. what are you going to do this time?” I whimper from the pain in my sides. 

“Hmm, I could do this.” He raises his foot to stomp on my leg and I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut as I wait for the pain but instead of the pain sensation in my leg it’s on my shoulder. My eyes pop open and I scream in agony. “I want you to change for good. So when I do kill you for the last time, it will be the last time.” He laughs, picking me up and placing me right in the closet from before where the t.v. was. 

I can still hear him speak but my shoulder was burning, I start breathing heavily, trying to get up. “Too bad he didn’t have the strength to turn you. Instead, he kept you as this fragile little human. It’s cruel really.” There’s a moment of silence and due to the door shut in front of me, I can’t see what’s going on. “Well done! You’ve succeeded in annoying me.” Seconds later I hear Bella scream and a crunch sound, and if I wasn’t already groaning in pain I would’ve gasped at the sound. “Tell Edward how much it hurts.” He tells her. “Tell him to avenge you.” 

“No, Edward. Don’t!” She hisses, I feel the burning sensation start to grow further down my arm and to my chest. I couldn’t even speak if I wanted to. “Cut! The end!” I then hear a loud bang, and moments hit. “You’re alone because you’re faster than the others but not stronger,” James shouts, I hear another thump. I try not to focus on the burning, pulling out the pepper spray. I grunt, kicking at the door repeatedly. I hear a voice say something but nothing was clear enough anymore. Hearing loud movements and a body drop to the ground along with Bella’s voice clearly distressed, he did something to her, worse than the other thing. 

I get a hole through the door and I hear multiple other people. “Her femoral artery has been severed. She’s losing too much blood.” It was Carlisle, I hear him. “It’s burning! My hand!” Bella cried out, grunting. I try to kick at the door even more, not being able to move my torso. The adrenaline in my body sort of soothed the excruciating pain in my shoulder. I felt like at any moment the pain could paralyze me as it grew larger and larger. “You have a choice to make either let the change happen-” “No!”

“It’s going to happen anyway. I’ve seen it”

Alice, that’s Alice. I try to shout out her name but it goes out as just a loud scream. But I got someone's attention as the door opens. “It’s [Name]!” Emmett yells, he bends down and I look over his shoulder to see fire. Jasper was keeping it going before he heard my name being called out. I hum out suffering. “He, hah, he got me.” I grip the pepper spray in my hand and now Emmett’s arm. “He got you?” His face was panicked and I grit my teeth. “My shoulder, my shoulder.” I tilt my head to the shoulder he bit me on and he pulls me out of the closet to put me on a flat surface in a bigger space. Jasper and Alice surrounded me, “Help her!” I scream out as the pain shot through my body. “No, we can help you too!” Alice tells me, she rips my shirt where the bite was being covered. I hear Carlisle say something about it killing her and I look over to Edward hovered over Bella. 

“It reached her heart, Alice. It’s too late.” I listen to Jasper speak, I am still gripping onto Emmett’s arm but he hasn’t even tried to take it back. “It’s… it’s okay.” it calms down for a second and I stare up at Alice trying to reassure her but she shakes her head. “We have to try!” She exclaims. “No.. no!” I shout as it was in waves, my nails digging into what felt like glass but was still Emmett. 

And like waves soon came back my memories that I have never seen before. 

I see a desert and I’m with Jasper on two separate horses, then it cuts to me searching for Jasper. He’s gone. And I get shot in the middle of a field, left behind by what look like soldiers. Left to bleed out. Now I’m in a hospital wearing a hospital gown. In a different life. I go into a room to see Alice for the first time. I’m giving her something then it cuts to me out of the hospital and with a man… James! He attacked me while I had walked out of my car. 

Now at a party, I’m talking to the Cullens, every single one of them as if I have known them my whole life. Partying with Rosalie and dancing beside Alice. But I don’t seem to be in love with Jasper or Alice as there’s another man by my side. A man I don’t recognize. There’s a ring on my finger and it looks like this is my bachelorette party or something. We go into a bathroom and I tell the girls something that makes them cheer for me. I don’t hear anything though. It just cuts to a memory of me in the hospital room and Rosalie is holding my baby. But I’m sleeping? I’m dead? How am I seeing this if I’m dead? 

In my next life and I see extremely peppy, I’m wearing a bunch of colors but I’m only a child. I’m around the age of 8 and I’m in the forest with a woman who is holding my hand. Before it even goes far into this life it cuts to James once again attacking me and who I believe is my mother. The second time he’s killed me in one of my lives. 

Then my fifth life, the one before this one, and it looks like the late 70s or real early 80s and I’m at a school dance with Alice, people making fun of us as they pass by but I seem happy, she seems happy. I also have a tube that goes onto my nose. I look down to see an oxygen tank. Later that night after the dance I died from an asthma attack. 

And now this life. I don’t see any memories flash back to it. And my body shoots up awake, I go to gasp for air but it feels different. “You’re up.” A voice spoke up, I look around and it looks like a hotel. “What?”

“Lovebug, look at me.” Alice comes into my vision as Jasper stood right behind her.

“Did I die?” I glance around, sitting up against a wall. “No, not necessarily.” Alice frowns, “I changed? I’m one of you guys.” I state out loud and all they could do was nod.

4100 words bitches and I am fucking tired but the last chapter for this movie won't be as long I think. I don't know yet I still have to figure out some things for that. If you have any things you'd like to see or want to know for the story just comment and I'll try to reach back. I've been sleeping a lot lately and I do not know why. I'm going to work on the requests I was given tonight but I can tell anyone for sure when they will be out because even with sleeping I've been busy for no reason. I just already have most of the chapters for this story written out lol.

[bradleysass]

Knives - Word Count: 608 - Rosekiller

The dimly lit Slytherin common room hummed with an air of restless boredom. Barty Crouch Jr. leaned back on the plush emerald sofa, a sinister grin tugging at his lips as he opened a battered leather case. Inside lay his prized collection of knives, gleaming wickedly under the low light of the flickering fireplace.

Evan Rosier, perched on a nearby chair with his characteristic languid elegance, raised an eyebrow. “Is this what you do for fun? Collect shiny metal sticks and hope they’ll make you interesting?”

Barty’s grin widened. “Mock all you want, Rosier, but these are works of art.” He picked up a slender throwing knife, twirling it deftly between his fingers. “Each one perfectly balanced. Lethal, precise.”

Evan leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, feigning disinterest. “Impressive. Truly. You should take up knife juggling; it suits your chaotic brand.”

Barty’s eyes lit up, the spark of an idea blooming dangerously. “Actually, juggling sounds tame. I’ve got something better.” He jumped up, grabbing a stack of dartboard rings from his trunk and pinning them haphazardly to the stone wall. With a flourish, he turned to Evan. “Fancy being my target?”

Evan’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Barty shot back, positioning Evan in front of the makeshift dartboard. “Relax, I’m not aiming for you. Just around you. Trust me.”

Evan crossed his arms, his cool demeanor intact. “This is either the most brilliant idea you’ve ever had or the absolute dumbest.”

“Why not both?” Barty quipped. He grabbed a throwing knife, took a step back, and flung it. The blade landed with a satisfying thunk in the wall just above Evan’s shoulder.

“Nice aim,” Evan said dryly, not even flinching. “But I’m not a painting, Crouch. Let’s wrap this up before your incompetence kicks in.”

Barty ignored him, his focus sharpening as he threw another knife, and then another. Each blade landed closer to Evan, the thrill building with every throw. Until, of course, it happened. A knife slipped from Barty’s hand at an awkward angle, hurtling directly toward Evan’s head.

Time seemed to slow. Barty’s eyes widened in horror as the blade spun end-over-end toward his friend.

Evan, however, moved like lightning. His mouth snapped open, and to Barty’s utter disbelief, he caught the knife in his teeth. There was a moment of stunned silence as the blade gleamed in Evan’s mouth, the handle protruding at an absurd angle.

Then, impossibly, Evan began to chew. The metallic crunch echoed in the room as shards of steel disappeared between his teeth.

“What the—?” Barty stammered, stumbling back a step. “Evan, you’re eating my knife!”

Evan held up a hand, chewing thoughtfully as if it were a particularly tough piece of steak. Finally, he swallowed, licking his lips with a casual air. “Not bad. A bit metallic, though. Needs seasoning.”

Barty’s jaw dropped. “You’re insane. You just… you ate a knife. Who even does that?”

Evan shrugged, dusting off his hands. “Guess you’ll have to update your collection. This one’s mine now.”

Barty stared at him, a mixture of awe and horror plastered across his face. Then, slowly, a manic grin returned. “You’re not human, are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Evan replied with a smirk, walking away as if nothing had happened.

As the common room door closed behind him, Barty glanced at his remaining knives, then back at the dartboard. “I’ve got to get this guy a real challenge,” he muttered to himself. And just like that, the seeds of his next harebrained scheme were already taking root.

[werecat1234]

Merging Timelines Chapter Three

Sans was killing everyone quickly and effectively, making everything as fast as possible for his victims, Chara watching on from the background with a grin on their face, occasionally joining in for the fun of it. He was merciless, delivering lethal blows each time. This happened on repeat multiple times, before Sans started getting... sadistic. He started drawing out fights, becoming entertained by them, making sure to make it painful.

He knew their every attack by then, every defense strategy, and he used this to his advantage, making it painful and gruesome. Mettaton was a fight he particularly enjoyed, crushing everyone's hopes as he destroyed Mettaton to the point of turning the metal to dust, obliterating him with a burst of black magic that was out of view. It was starting up again when everything suddenly changed, what he was seeing seemed to glitch out into black before starting again, but was noticeably different. 

There was hundreds of Resets, nothing ever changing, everyone always dying, timelines blurring together until everything was taking up most of his memory. Every time it was a human, laughing as everyone died, stumbling about with dust on their clothes and a dusty knife in their right hand. Sans felt hopeless and desperate, the memories becoming clearer and clearer until every single Reset from that point on was clear as day, and then... Sans felt a Determination to stop it. To stop them from killing everyone and becoming too powerful to stop, and to give himself the power to beat them instead.

It was an insane idea, but he was so desperate... The next Reset, he started early, destroying the cameras Alphys had hidden, killing monsters with tears coming from his eye sockets, making it as quick and painless as possible, never once drawing it out. He had the lady behind the door let him in, killing her quickly in front of the human, and then finishing off in Snowdin, and Papyrus... Papyrus.... It went by in a repressed blur, yelling and tears and dust. Sans picked up his brother's scarf, wrapped it around his neck, and kept going.

Next was Waterfall, then Hotlands, the human killing who Sans had missed. In the end, they met once again in Judgement Hall, and Sans.... absolutely slaughtered them. He killed them hundreds of times, always changing his patterns. Until he got sloppy. They landed a hit on him, a 99999 attack, and he lasted a bit longer fighting, Determination keeping him alive, hoping to kill them before he died, but... he was unsuccessful. Everything fading to black as he watched himself dust...

Sans woke up with a gasp, falling out of bed, panting. He saw someone bending over to his head level, as he was on the floor, and he yelped in surprise. It was him, but... so much different... Black streaks were coming from his lightless eye sockets, right eye socket half closed, and he wore a black turtleneck and fingerless gloves, glowing red target in the center of his chest dark blue coat with tan fur on the edge of the hood, and Sans could see an inverse color version of his shorts, along with blue sneakers. Wait.... was this...?...

'morning, sunshine.' Killer grinned down at him, 'wow, you look rough, bad night? that wasn't me you saw at the end there, lucky.'

"how... how are you...?" Sans whispered, trying to regain his bearings. 

'here? i'm not. you, lucky, are hallucinating. you went full schizo, and you're in a psyche ward on the surface.' Killer said, grinning at him. "what?!" Sans asked in alarm, and Killer burst out laughing, right eye socket opening all the way as he doubled over, slapping his knee.

'oh, you should see your face, lucky!' Killer laughed, smirking darkly, 'i'm kidding, mostly. you are hallucinating me, yes, but it's just another reset, you can relax, quit grinding your bones together, don't give yourself arthritis at a ripe age of... how old are we? so many resets i can't tell.'

"eighteen.." Sans muttered.

'right. as i was saying, just another reset. again. forever. never aging, never changing for eternity, slowly delving into madness.' Killer's voice turned monotone after the first sentence.

"you're extremely depressing." Sans said.

'thanks, that's what i was going for.' Killer snickered, grinning at him, and Sans groaned. 'kinda funny how what happens to you is the only thing that changes in a reset, almost like it only affects you and the kid. maybe it's a determination thing...'

"what?" Sans asked.

'think about it, you've got a bit of determination in you, it comes outta you as you die. we both know skeletons can't sweat, and we both know what was actually happening when you were 'sweating'. you had determination to not get killed, to kill the kid, and it was starting to become too much to handle. low lv monsters can't handle that determination, but when say, me or whoever the hell just played in your head like a trailer for a movie, when you do what we did and kill everyone, or mostly everyone, and obtain a high lv, you can handle more determination. otherwise you can't handle it and you just melt like a snowman in summer on the surface.' Killer leaned again the side of his treadmill as he explained, snickering a bit at his comparison. 

"that... actually makes a lot of sense..." Sans said.

'i know, that's why i said it, because i'm right. now, next order of business, we gotta roll out the welcome wagon when guest number two arrives at the fabulous, and by fabulous i mean the two star at best, motel that is your mind, where, like hotel california, that one human song, no one can ever leave!' Killer said, and Sans just looked at him like he was crazy, and he technically was. Killer ignored the look, 'now, we have to do a red carpet, try and get some balloons in here, and maybe, just maybe i can get a lion in here. can't promise it won't bite anyone, i'll have to get everyone to sign a waiver.'

Sans just looked done with everything. Killer started laughing, enjoying this, and Sans groaned, closing his eye sockets. While Killer was crazy, he did have a point, it was about to get a lot more crowded if this kept up...

'it's already too crowded with just me here.' Sans heard his voice right next to his head, and his eye sockets shot open, seeing Killer kneeling next to him on his left, grinning. He suddenly smirked mischievously, right eye socket half closed, asking, 'marry me?'

Sans's jaw dropped, eyelights shrinking from shock. He did not just say that. Killed fell on his back soundlessly, crying laughing, the black tar-like substance running down from his eye sockets a bit quicker. Killer sat up slightly, looking at his face, before he laughed harder, soundlessly punching the floor with his fist a few times. 

'i hope the new one will be as fun as you, lucky, oh my god... i haven't laughed that hard in a long time..." Killer chuckled.

"can i go back to sleep?" Sans asked.

'like i have a say?' Killer asked.

"we both know you could just keep being annoying and keep me awake." Sans deadpanned.

'hmmmm... true. well, we got nothing else to do before the kid falls in the morning, and you probably won't be able to sleep again after... that. i say we have some fun. you, me, grillby's. get some actual good food instead of... whatever the stuff papyrus makes is. you know i'm right, lucky. now come on, he should be open.' Killer suggested, and Sans was pretty tempted.

"i can't believe i'm agreeing with you." Sans sighed.

'you know i have a point, now come on, up and at 'em.' Killer insisted, grabbing at his shoulders which did literally nothing, Killer's hands just phased through him, but Sans felt the sensation mentally either way, and he sat up with a sigh. This was probably a bad idea.

'yup.' Killer grinned at him, the grin combined with the empty eye sockets was unnerving.

Sans looked up at his window, seeing Killer's soul on his chest, and his eye sockets were empty, black, tar-like liquid coming from his sockets. It looked like his reflection had changed more this Reset, probably a result of whatever was happening getting worse. Crap.

A few minutes later, Sans was walking into Grillby’s, Killer, or at least his hallucination of him or whatever his mind was doing to make him see him, following him in, whistling a demented version of his boss theme, and no one else was there but Grillby, who was cleaning a glass. 'so, when's the last time you were in here this early, hmm? it’s probably been a while. can’t remember the last time i even ate here.'

Sans didn’t know how to feel about that. 

“Sans? What are you doing here this late at night?” Grillby asked in concern.

”not much. papyrus’s cooking in the morning is giving me nightmares and sleeping is an impastable task right now.” Sans joked, sitting on one of the bar stools, Killer appearing at the edge of his vision on the stool next to him. Grillby chuckled a bit at the joke.

”I see. I don’t have much for breakfasts, but I got a gift basket from Muffet for Gryftmas. Would you like something from that?” Grillby asked, “Her baking is too sweet for me, and don’t refuse saying you don’t want to put me out. You’d be doing me a favor and making her happy.”

'well, when he puts it that way… go for it! come on, you know you’re hungry, and it’s a generous gesture you should really appreciate and accept, it is rude to refuse a gift~' Killer said.

Sans knew that Killer just had a sweet tooth and was trying to get Sans to indulge in it for him.

'that… damn it! fine! seriously though, it’s been so long!' Killer hopped onto the counter next to Grillby, and Sans had to force himself not to look at him, so of course Killer got in his face, saying in a monotone tone, 'spider donut.' 

Sans sighed in defeat, saying, “yeah, that’d be great, thanks grillbs.” and Killer grinned victoriously, fist bumping the air before sitting on the edge of the counter and kicking his legs over the edge as Grillby went to go grab the gift basket. Sans hadn’t seen or heard him this excited before.

'hey, I can feel some things. not a lot, but some. one thing i can feel is a sweet tooth, and another is- oh here it is!' Killer grinned widely, sitting back on the bar stool next to Sans.

Grillby came back with the basket, unknowingly setting it where Killer had previously been sitting.

”Take your pick.” Grillby said.

”thank you.” Sans thanked him, receiving a nod as Grillby went to clean some pots and pans out of view.

Killer frantically pointed at the neatly packaged donut, jumping on the counter next to the basket and pointing at it from there, and Killer actually had lights in his eye sockets now. They were like his own, but Killer’s were just a thin white outline of a circle, and the lights were smaller than Sans’s. Killer looked up at Sans, who realized he’d unintentionally been staring, and Sans looked back at the basket.

'careful, don't get lost in 'em.' Killer said, a flirty look on his face, and Sans barely held back a reaction. Killer snickered at him. Killer was a jerk. 'yup.' Sans wasn’t going to eat the donut. 'NO!!' Killer yelled dramatically, eyelights shrinking in obviously exaggerated horror, now the size of the tip of a needle.

'fine, i’ll stop…' Killer sighed, and Sans grabbed the donut, and Killer sat on the bar stool again.

Sans unwrapped it, eating it, and he sighed in content. Killer did the same, a satisfied look on his face. Sans thought he was basically an emotionless jerk.

'oh i am, but i haven’t eaten or tasted a sweet in a long time, and it tastes good. besides, like i said, i have some emotions, just not in the usual way or from usual things. i enjoy feeling, i like different and new things, and i enjoy pissing people off to name a few, and murder is... definitely a way to pass time, i like it. oh, and i hate ketchup and chocolate, brings back memories.'

Sans knew all about that from his nightmare of Killer, of his timeline and how he took joy in what he did. Sans, as much as he wanted to be furious with him about it and hate him, just couldn’t bring himself to be. He’d seen what he’d gone through, everything that happened to him, felt everything himself… truth be told, he felt bad for him.

'take that back.' Killer said, narrowing his sockets at him, eyelights vanishing.

”enjoy your donut.” Sans countered quietly, narrowing his eye sockets back, and Killer muttered something under his breath. 

Sans counted it as one of his few victories against Killer. After thanking Grillby again for the donut, Sans teleported to Waterfall, sitting on the bench with the quiche hidden underneath. Killer sat cross legged on the ground, facing him, and fidgeting with a knife. He looked distracted, movements precise yet he didn't seem to be concentrating on his hands, like he'd done it multiple times.

'i have. it's like one of those fidget spinners, but, y'know, dangerous and lethal. makes it fun.' Killer grinned.

'how much worse do you think this'll get?' Sans asked him.

'hmmm... can it get worse? i mean sure, we'll probably be getting a new roommate soon, and he probably won't pay rent either. wait, do i need to pay rent? you can't exactly evict me if i don't.' Killer asked, looking thoughtful.

'you don't need to do anything other than not drive me crazy.' Sans replied, and Killer grimaced.

'tsk, tsk, tsk, no can do, lucky. you're already crazy. how about we settle for me letting you sleep.... sometimes.' Killer said.

Sans sighed out loud before thinking, 'fine, and no killing anyone.'

'damn, fine.' Killer sighed.

'hey, can i ask you something?' Sans asked.

'shoot.' Killer replied.

"do you.. ever feel remorse? about what you did and everything else?" Sans asked.

Killer looked to think about it for a while, looking at his hands, head down.

'not really. i can't really miss anything or feel guilty or sad or regret. can't really care about stuff that much either, and i don't feel upset when someone or something dies or is hurt. i mean occasionally i can get bits and pieces of it, but... i hate those moments and try avoiding them whenever i can.' Killer replied.

'chara really messed you up, huh?' Sans asked sadly.

'you could say that. don't even think of feeling bad for me, i don't want your stupid pity.' Killer glared.

'i'm not pitying you. i'm sympathizing, something you don't know how to do, but i still know it. i feel bad about what you went through, but i don't pity you. i feel sad you went through it, and i... i want so badly to be furious with you, to hate you for everything you did, but... i saw how much you were put through, and i saw how much you resisted before you caved.

'i.. know i might be a bad person for not hating you, but i'm trying to keep in mind that you were like me, once. a long, long time ago, and i.. i figure if we're gonna be stuck in this situation, i'd rather not spend my time hating you. besides, the one i saw before, the one that didn't have you in it... i know you're not the only version of me who killed everyone out of desperation to get everything to stop.' Sans told him, and Killer looked at him blankly for a moment.

'was i seriously this sappy and forgiving?' Killer asked, half to himself.

'yeah, pretty much.' Sans replied, chuckling a bit at the reaction.

'damn, i really was pathetic..' Killer muttered, and Sans ignored him.

Sans sat there for a bit longer, Killer either fidgeting with a knife or just pacing around, and they talked a bit longer. Sans teleported back to his room after a while, when Papyrus would usually come to wake him up, and Killer walked around a corner when Sans teleported there, laying in bed. Killer leaned against the wall, looking at the door when Papyrus opened it.

"GOOD MORNING, BROTH- OH, YOU'RE ALREADY AWAKE! WONDERFUL! COME ON, SANS! I HAVE A GOOD DAY ABOUT TODAY! A HUMAN WILL FALL, I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES, NYEH HEH HEH HEH!" Papyrus ran out, and Killer chuckled a bit, shaking his head. 

Sans got out of bed, heading downstairs, seeing Killer reclining on the couch, and he said, 'took ya long enough.'

Sans rolled his eyelights, and a few minutes later he was sitting on the couch, choking down some of the pasta Papyrus had made. Killer was laying on his chest on the table, legs kicking in the air slightly behind him, holding his head up with his hands, elbows on the table. 

'the donut was a good idea, wasn't it?' Killer asked, and Sans sighed slightly, knowing he was right. 'quick, put the pasta in your pocket, he'll think you ate it all and head to work on puzzles. we need to get moving, kid's gonna be outta the ruins soon.'

Sans remembered Killer guiding him through Undyne's attacks, and he knew Killer had a lot of experience dealing with everyone combat wise, which was a given for dodging attacks and fighting them quickly. Sans didn't think that that also applied to how they'd react in different situations and to different things, but he took a shot at the dark to see if Killer was right about this. Sans waited until Papyrus wasn't looking before wrapping the pasta in a napkin before putting it in his pocket like Killer had instructed, wanting to see if Killer was right about this too.

"jeez, i am stuffed. thanks, pap." Sans thanked him, patting where his stomach would be if he had one.

"YOU'RE WELCOME, BROTHER!" Papyrus replied, happy, "I HAVE TO GET TO WORK ON PUZZLES NOW, BE AT YOUR POST WHEN I CHECK LATER, SANS!" Papyrus said, and he headed out the door.

Sans looked back at Killer, and Killer snickered. 

'do i know him or what?' Killer grinned, and Sans sighed. Killer looked over at the knife block, and when Sans looked at where he was looking, Killer asked, 'grab me one?'

"absolutely not." Sans replied.

'might need it~' Killer said.

"why would i ever need that?" Sans asked.

'if the kid's a genocider, can cut them down really quick.' Killer grinned, and Sans snorted at the pun, which made Killer grin wider. 

"still no." Sans said.

'oh come on!' Killer sighed, 'i'll go easy on messing with you for the rest of the timeline. besides, what's the harm? if anyone sees it, they'll forget about it once everything resets again. there's no consequences here, lucky. wrap your skull around that.' 

Sans headed out the door a minute later, grumbling under his breath angrily. He couldn't believe Killer had talked him into it. Killer had a lot of pep in his step, skipping through the snow without leaving any footprints. Sans had wrapped a knife in a thick napkin and put it in his inside coat pocket. 

"you're still a psycho." Sans muttered.

'but i'm your psycho.' Killer winked at him, and Sans stopped walking, glaring at him.

'stop doing that.' Sans glared.

'but it ticks you off, and your anger is extremely amusing.' Killer grinned.

"killer." Sans said flatly.

'fine, fine, i'll save it for the newbie when he gets here.' Killer sighed. 

Sans started walking again, teleporting to the Ruins doors, waiting for the kid to walk out. The doors opened fifteen minutes later, Killer leaning against the door the kid never opens, and he was fidgeting with a knife, seemingly enjoying his reflection in the blade. When the door opened, Killer immediately looked them over, and Sans recognized their expression.

'well i'll be damned.' Killer said, putting the knife in his coat pocket. It was Frisk.

"hey, frisk." Sans said, walking over. 

"Hey Sans. You recognized me?" Frisk asked.

"yeah, recognized the look on your face. met riley last reset. they were a good kid." Sans said, and Frisk nodded.

"Riley is one of the nicest ones; a true pacifist." Frisk said, "I was relieved they got to be in control last time."

Sans nodded in agreement, seeing Killer tossing his knife up and down in the air, and Frisk turned around to see what Sans was looking at, but upon seeing nothing, turned around to look back at Sans.

"What is it?" Frisk asked him.

"huh? oh, nothing, just uh... thought i saw something... wanna get this over with?" Sans asked. 

Frisk seemed hesitant, but nodded a bit. They still looked concerned. Killer slowly peaked over Frisk's head, grinning at Sans with his right eye socket half closed, and Sans immediately started walking, not looking at Killer who then poked his head out from around a tree in front of Sans, waving. Frisk followed behind Sans.

"Are you ok?" Frisk asked, "You look like you're seeing something."

"yeah, i'm fine. just... try figuring out a way to stop the resets from happening sooner rather than later, ok?" Sans asked.

"Is something happening to you?" Frisk asked in concern, jumping to correct conclusions.

"just... please, frisk." Sans said.

'you seem desperate, that obviously means something's wrong, idiot. you think the brat won't catch on? who knows, maybe they'll hurry up on a solution..' Killer's face went blank and his voice went monotone with what he said next, 'or you'd be handing chara something to use on a silver platter.'

Sans was unnerved by that. He hated when Killer did that to no end. Killer smirked a bit, going back behind the tree and out of sight. He was gonna pop up again eventually. Frisk thankfully seemed to drop it, and the interaction with Papyrus went by in a blur, Sans went on autopilot during it, just getting through it with generic dialogue, and Frisk seemed even more concerned. Waterfall went the same as the last time with Riley, Papyrus tagging along. It was in Hotland where things got... out of hand.

"Alright, here we are! You and Alphys are gonna get along so well!" Undyne declared. 

This was going the same as last time so far, only this time Killer was walking backwards in front of them, twirling a knife in his left hand. Sans could still feel the weight of the blade Killer had made him grab before leaving the house. Undyne knocked on the door to The Lab with her free hand, and she bolted inside, excited. Papyrus followed behind her, walking through the hallucination of Killer, who appeared next to the fridge when the brothers entered.

"O-Oh! Hi U-Undyne! Hi h-human! S-Sans! P-Papyrus! Hi!" Alphys greeted, both nervous, flustered because Undyne was present, along with the kid, Papyrus, and Sans, who she knew that he knew more than he let on.

"Hey Alph! How you doing? Just wanted to bring my new friend over to meet you! They totally idolize me! Fuhuhu!" Undyne grinned, putting Frisk down to pick up Alphys to hug her, and when Undyne put her down, Alphys was extremely flustered. 

"O-Oh! N-Nice to m-meet you!" Alphys greeted.

"You too." Frisk replied, smiling a bit.

"S-So, umm.. h-how've you been l-liking the U-Underground s-so far?" Alphys asked.

"It's really awesome down here! I've made a lot of friends so far, and it's been a lot of fun." Frisk answered.

Alphys nodded in understanding, smiling a bit, "Y-Yeah. S-Some m-monsters r-r-really are a-amazing.." Alphys said, looking up at Undyne.

'oh my god, for asgore's sake, just kiss already!' Killer snapped at Alphys and Undyne despite them being unable to hear him. 

'not this crap again...' Sans groaned mentally. 

'oh yes! they need to hook up before the timeline ends! i need some alphyne!' Killer grinned.

Sans's eyelights vanished as he tried holding back several choice words and reactions.

"S-Sans? A-Are you o-ok?..." Alphys asked him, looking unnerved but also concerned.

"yeah, i'm ok. just gotta.. umm.. just remembered i had to do something. be back in a few minutes." Sans answered, eyelights reappearing and he teleported to the bathroom. The True Lab was hidden in an elevator in one of the stalls, but otherwise it was just a bathroom. Sans locked the door, glaring at his reflection, seeing Killer grinning back at him.

'stop.' Sans glared, crossing his arms, but Killer only folded his arms behind his head.

'nah, i'm good. c'mon, lucky, you can't actually expect me to stop just because you told me to~ you might wanna pull yourself together though, they're getting worried~' Killer grinned at him, leaning forward in the mirror.

'that's difficult to do when you're being obnoxious. you said that you'd lay off messing with me for the rest of the timeline.' Sans growled.

'i did, but you couldn't have actually expected me to just stand by and leave you alone. no no no. y'see, lucky, i'm holding back saying some things, but i'm not just gonna do nothing or watch everything like a movie.' Killer said.

'i... i know. i'm sorry. just... can you tell when i'm getting irritated and just lay off?' Sans asked.

'i suppose so, but just for this reset. i have all next reset to mess with you~ if not that one, the one after. consequences mean nothing here and time is endless. i have all the time in the world to mess with ya, lucky, and you know what? eventually, you'll finally understand."

Killer vanished, leaving Sans glaring at a wall. He sighed and turned around to leave, but was met with a disturbing reflection. He was looking at himself with empty eye sockets and a glowing red target on his chest, black liquid coming from his eye sockets. Killer's appearance flashed in front of his vision, the mirror covered in dust and blood and the glass cracked, and Sans stumbled back. His reflection didn't move, though, and Sans saw his reflection twirling a knife before throwing it to the side, and Sans heard the sound of a monster dusting. The image vanished a moment later, and Sans panted, soul pounding in his chest from the jump scare. He looked where the knife had been thrown, and there was no one there. What the hell?...

"not funny." Sans said, eye sockets narrowed in anger, panic receding.

'i didn't do that.' Killer said.

"what?.." Sans asked, and Killer appeared in front of him, leaning against the wall.

'i didn't cause that to happen. i can appear and talk to ya, lucky, i can't do... that." Killer said, and Sans sighed a bit. 

"if that wasn't you, then... what just-" Sans was cut off by a loud explosion, the ground shaking.

'there's mettaton. should probably hurry and get back.' Killer advised, and Sans sighed, knowing he was right.

Sans unlocked the door and teleported back out, seeing a hole in the wall, Mettaton rolling out of the gaping hole and Papyrus looking at Mettaton with a surprised and giddy expression, practically jumping with excitement.

'you ever noticed how similar those two are? talk about media influencing kids.' Killer said, and Sans sighed. Killer had a point there. Sans still didn't like the robot, and Killer looked like he was itching for a fight with him too.

"HELLO, DAR-! OH! I WASN'T ANTICIPATING A LIVE AUDIENCE! HELLO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE FRONT ROW SEATS TO MY SHOW?!" Mettaton asked.

"YES!!" Papyrus cheered. 

'no.' Killer and Sans thought at the same time, and Killer snickered.

"VERY WELL! NOW, LET'S BEGIN WITH A MARVELOUS QUIZ SHOW! STARING... THE HUMAN! WHAT IS YOUR NAME, DARLING?" Mettaton asked.

"Frisk." Frisk replied.

"FRISK! LOVELY! NOW, LET'S PLAY A GAME! ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS CORRECTLY, OR... YOU DIE!" Mettaton challenged.

"Wait, what?" Undyne asked.

"WHY IS THEM DYING A PENALTY?" Papyrus asked, "IT SEEMS... EXCESSIVE..."

"IT PROVIDES DRAMA! ACTION! A THRILL, AND DON'T FORGET SUSPENSE AND TENSION!" Mettaton answered, "NOW, ENOUGH CHATTER BEFORE WE LOSE OUR LOVELY VIEWERS, HERE'S YOUR QUESTIONS, DARLING!!" 

Frisk answered the questions correctly that they could, but it was difficult, the whole thing was completely rigged. They got zapped a few times, and Sans noticed something odd. They took more damage than the last few timelines. Weird. The kid seemed to notice too, because they seemed surprised. Soon enough, they were at just 1 HP, but the quiz show wasn't stopping. Alphys intervened before Sans could, which he knew she was planning on inserting herself into the story because she wanted to feel important and befriend the kid, but usually... things were different. The kid didn't usually get this hurt.

"W-Wait! M-Maybe... u-ummm... d-do you th-think you're e-ending this t-too s-s-soon?... T-There... umm.... there's n-no s-suspense..." Alphys piped up nervously.

"HMM? ALPHYS... THAT...." Alphys tensed up, "IS A LOVELY IDEA! FABULOUS! WELL DONE, DARLING!" Alphys breathed a sigh of relief, "VERY WELL, I AM OFF TO SET UP THE STAGE FOR OUR NEXT PERFORMANCE! TOODLOO!" 

Mettaton flew out through the roof, and Killer looked up after him before looking at Sans, 'well that was interesting...' Killer stated.

"you ok, kid?" Sans asked, and they gave him a shaky thumbs up.

Alphys rushed to her fridge, grabbing some instant noodles and heating them up, and giving them to Frisk.

"H-Here.. t-this sh-should help you h-heal..." Alphys told them.

"Thank you." Frisk said graciously, eating the noodles, regaining some HP.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST MET METTATON..." Papyrus said after a moment, still kind of giddy, "I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY HE'D WANT TO HARM YOU, HUMAN." 

"I-I... umm... h-his coding... i-it's messed up..." Alphys said after a moment, "H-He... um... he's uh... I-I a-accidentally g-gave him s-some human k-killing f-fixations..."

'hey lucky, did you know me and chara used mettaton's cameras and everything for a soap opera once with his ripped off and sparking head for a candle?'

"WHAT?!" Sans asked in shock and confusion, and everyone flinched. Sans looked between everyone, and coughed a bit, "sorry... what?"

"Y-Yeah... s-sorry.. I umm... I c-can try f-fixing him, b-but..." Alphys trailed off, thinking Sans had been responding to her. 

Sans didn't miss Frisk's concerned expression, and he decided to look away from the kid.

"WELL, DON'T WORRY! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WON'T ALLOW FRISK TO BE HARMED AGAIN! EVEN IF IT IS FROM MY FAVORITE TV STAR!" Papyrus announced.

"I'm with you on that one, Papyrus. That robot doesn't stand a chance!" Undyne declared, punching her right fist into her left hand, her eye narrowing. 

"i'll help you out too, kid." Sans agreed. He noticed Alphys fidgeting, and he said, "but probably not as much as alphys can. i'm too lazy for that."

Alphys smiled a little, surprised but happy. "Y-Yeah! I can h-help too!" 

"Yeah you can! You got this, Alphys!" Undyne agreed with Sans. 

After Frisk finished the noodles, they were seemingly encouraged, and continued on through Hotlands, going through the area like usual, Undyne and Papyrus providing encouragement while Alphys played hero, and Sans encouraged them occasionally. Everything seemed to be going mostly ok, with Mettaton being a tiny bit more murderous than normal, but at the final interaction between the two of them... something seemed to go wrong. Mettaton was being much more violent than usual, to the point the kid died almost right away upon entering the area, a Reload almost immediately occurring.

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RELOAD

RELOAD

It was this Reload that Sans felt something snap in his soul...