#and getting my drawing to look like the references took IMPOSSIBLY LONG

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hellishjoel]

ride

7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”  “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.  You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.  “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M. 

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident. 

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked. 

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t. 

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he. 

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable. 

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now. 

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight. 

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary. 

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now. 

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights. 

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.  

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road. 

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.  

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night. 

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover. 

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light. 

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck. 

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself. 

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave. 

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.” 

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries. 

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers. 

“Gross, Joel.” 

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck. 

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks. 

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there. 

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands. 

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once.  It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word. 

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you. 

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either. 

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her. 

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.” 

Yes, I do, you think. 

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.” 

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors. 

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?” 

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you. 

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?” 

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants  ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.  

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything. 

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.” 

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more. 

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?” 

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance. 

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things. 

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack. 

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man. 

“Damn shame.”  He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on. 

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser. 

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person. 

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.” 

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back. 

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused. 

“Course it is.” 

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you. 

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional. 

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.” 

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing. 

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug. 

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away. 

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat. 

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear. 

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest. 

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks. 

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.” 

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong. 

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God. 

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.” 

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made. 

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to. 

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously. 

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy. 

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message: 

Hi

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away. 

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself. 

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose. 

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake. 

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach. 

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center. 

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance. 

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room. 

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky. 

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it. 

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in. 

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free. 

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water. 

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile. 

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.” 

His joke elicits a giggle from you. 

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold. 

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.” 

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat. 

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts. 

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently.  “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk. 

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body. 

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you. 

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone. 

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.” 

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more. 

He offers you his hand, one final offer.  “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.” 

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest. 

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time. 

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength. 

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry. 

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.” 

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron.  He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length. 

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles. 

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass. 

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more. 

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together. 

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle. 

“I like that I’m the one causing it.” 

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room. 

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot. 

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.” 

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in. 

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.” 

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth. 

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait. 

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile. 

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together. 

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.” 

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort. 

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin. 

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall. 

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant. 

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman. 

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth. 

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh. 

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears. 

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower. 

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man. 

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand. 

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly. 

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace. 

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake. 

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh. 

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” 

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. 

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. 

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk. 

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps. 

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon. 

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm. 

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.” 

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped. 

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.” 

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls. 

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower. 

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside. 

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again. 

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled. 

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on. 

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass. 

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation. 

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head. 

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath. 

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim. 

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch. 

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore. 

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin. 

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower. 

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name. 

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you. 

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue. 

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy. 

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before. 

All you know is Joel Miller. 

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears. 

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip. 

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision. 

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation. 

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come. 

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you. 

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry. 

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out. 

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug. 

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now. 

“You’re alright.” He assures. 

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug. 

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek. 

“Y’alright? Feel good?” 

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.” 

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel. 

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms. 

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it. 

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring. 

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you. 

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head. 

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief. 

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does. 

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress. 

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger. 

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side. 

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan. 

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message. 

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up? 

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask. 

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out. 

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

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[bradshawssugarbaby]

Full of Surprises - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by @galaxy-of-stories's post

pairing: Lt. Robert Floyd x reader

warnings/content: virgin!bob x fem reader, oral (f receiving), p in v, swearing, hangman actually being a decent friend towards bob.

word count: 3k

minors dni below the cut

Bob chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he watched you from across the beach, his dark blue eyes watching you intensely from behind his wire framed glasses. He rarely took part in off-base activities with the rest of the Dagger squad, but today, he’d been coaxed out by Rooster and Phoenix to join the team for a relaxing beach day. What he didn’t know though, was that you would be there. You were Maverick’s niece, and Bob had pretty much instantly fallen for you. Smart, funny, beautiful and friendly - Bob thought you were the whole package. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever you spoke about something you were interested in, the way your cheeks blushed whenever Maverick and Rooster started reminiscing about your childhood, having grown up playing with Rooster on occasion when you were little, and he loved the way you were so outgoing, and so unlike him. He always hated his incurable shyness, the fact that he struggled so hard to come out of his shell, he resented it, especially now that it made it next to impossible for him to hold a conversation with you. 

“Hey, Baby-on-Board, you coming?” 

Bob turned his head around to face one of the pilots on his squad, Hangman, calling over to him. Bob rolled his eyes at the nickname Hangman had given him and shook his head quickly, his cheeks turning red again. He prayed that the UV rays were strong enough that day that he could lie and say the reddening of his face was due to too much sun exposure, but he knew that wasn’t likely going to work as an excuse on anyone, much less Hangman. The tall blonde pilot raised an eyebrow at Bob as he folded his arms over his broad chest. 

“Jeez, Bagman, don’t you ever wear a shirt?” Bob laughed dryly as he poked fun at Hangman, who had long ditched his t-shirt to show off his sunkissed skin, trying desperately to attract any female attention he could get on the beach.

“Hey, at least I don’t keep mine on the whole time at the beach.” Hangman shrugged as he sat down on the sand beside Bob. “Why do you anyway? I mean, you do all the same workouts as the rest of us do. It’s because you’re covered in chest hair isn’t it?” Hangman smirked as he playfully shoved Bob, flipping his sunglasses down over his eyes.

“No, I just don’t like to,” Bob shrugged his shoulders, “You know me, I’m not one to draw attention to myself.” 

“I hate to break it to you, Bobby, but you’ve definitely drawn someone’s attention,” Hangman grinned at him as he pointed towards you with his thumb as he spoke, “Mav’s niece hasn’t been able to stop herself from giving you the bedroom eyes, it’s hilarious that you haven’t noticed it yet though.”

“Bedroom eyes?” Bob laughed and shook his head, “What the hell are bedroom eyes?” 

“You know,” Hangman put his sunglasses atop his short blonde hair and grinned, imitating the lustful look he was referring to, the one he was so convinced you had for Bob.

“I have never seen anyone make that face in my life, Bagman. Are you bullshitting me?” Bob raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on his palms in the sand and sighed softly as he watched you again. The breeze blew your long hair back and the sunlight hit your tanned skin just right, making you appear to have a sunkissed glow. The sight alone was almost enough to drive Bob crazy. 

“Hah!” Hangman grinned as he pointed at Bob’s facial expression as he watched you, “You’re doing it to her right now!”

“I am not!” Bob protested, shaking his head. “Look, don’t you have something better to do?”

“No, I know I’m a shitty wingman half the time, but this time, I’m making it my personal mission to be yours.” 

Bob sighed again as he rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn’t winning on this one, and Hangman wasn’t going to leave him alone anytime soon. He just wasn’t ready to make a move on you yet. He’d had a handful of girlfriends over the years, but he’d never gone any further than making out for one reason or another, usually due to nerves. As badly as Bob wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to be humiliated in front of you.

“I’m fine,” Bob said through clenched teeth. 

“Dude, you can tell me what your hang up is. I’m not gonna go blab it, I promise,” Hangman said, placing his hand over his heart playfully to show that Bob’s secret would be safe with him.

“Fine…” Bob exhaled and shook his head, “I don’t know what the bedroom eyes are or anything because I’ve never, you know…gone to the bedroom…with anyone,” He said as he gave Hangman a pleading look, his facial expression begging him for some sympathy and compassion instead of the relentless teasing he expected from him.

“You mean, never?”

“Never. Not even close. I think I’ve made out with a girl once. I was like 18 though.” 

“Wow,” was all that Hangman could muster out.

“So now you get it?” Bob asked softly, “It’s not that I don’t want to ask her out. It’s that I’m scared I’ll screw it up because of that.”

Bob sighed and shook his head again as he stood up. He brushed the sand off his shorts and forced a laugh.

“I’m gonna head home, Hangman. See you later.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hangman laughed as he put a hand on Bob’s shoulder, his firm grip stopping Bob from walking away, “You’re at least gonna talk to this poor girl. She’s been interested in you the whole time she’s been here visiting Mav. Christ, even Mav’s noticed it,, and we all know how observant he is.”

“What if you’re wrong though and she’s not interested in me? Maybe she’s just being nice. I bet you’re more her type anyway.” Bob frowned.

“Me? No, she’s uh…she’s made it very clear I am not her type,” He laughed softly, shaking his head, “I tried. She outright told me “the cute guy with glasses” is her type. And how many guys with glasses are on our squad?”

“Just me…unless she meant sunglasses. Then it could be anyone.”

“Robert, I swear, you’re the dumbest guy I’ve ever met sometimes,” Hangman laughed as he rolled his eyes, “She meant you, jackass. She likes you. She told me. Now, what are you going to do with this information?”

“Talk to her…?” Bob tried, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he thought about it.

“Attaboy, Baby-on-Board, you got this,” Hangman grinned as he stood up, “Now, do me a favour? Try to look a little less like you’re about to shit your pants over this ok?” 

Bob rolled his eyes and took a deep breath as he approached you, a friendly smile on his lips as he nodded his head towards you. 

“Hi, I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself,” Bob offered his hand out to shake and smiled, “Lt. Robert Floyd, everyone calls me Bob, sometimes Bobby though.” 

“Hi Bob,” you grinned and shook his hand, “Y/N. Nice to meet you. My uncle’s told me a lot about you. You’re a WSO, right?”

“Yeah, I’m the backseater, it’s kinda fun, I’m a big nerd, so I get to use a lot of math in it to calculate where to aim the lasers and all that.”

You let out a giggle as he explained his role to you and he couldn’t help but smile and laugh along with you. Hours passed between the two of you conversing together, Hangman proudly watching Bob impress you from the background. After a while, the rest of the squad cleared out from the beach, leaving just you and Bob there by yourselves. It was beginning to get dark outside when you stood up beside Bob and smiled warmly.

“Want to come back to my aunt Penny’s? She’s not gonna care if I bring you over, she and Uncle Mav speak very highly of you. Aunt Penny always says you’re incredibly polite, and Uncle Mav called you a “good kid” so I doubt they’d mind if you came back to hangout for a little while.”

Bob nodded his head and smiled politely at you, the sunset making his eyes shine as he turned to face you. He leaned forward gently and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulled away after a moment and shook his head. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m not usually that forward. I mean, I wanted to, obviously,  I just normally ask first. And now I’m rambling, fuck sake,” He laughed and shook his head again.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, quieting his anxieties and insecurities as your lips met once again. He moved his lips in time with yours as he kissed you, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip, as if he was asking permission for it to enter your mouth. Your tongues swirled together with passion and lust as you made your way across the sand and over to the front steps of your aunt and uncle’s home where you were staying, your lips barely breaking contact as you walked. You felt Bob put a hand gently on your waist as you pulled him inside through the patio door, into the sunroom where you were staying. You breathlessly pulled away from Bob to come up for air, shrugging your cardigan off your shoulders as you did so. Bob, finding a sudden burst of confidence, grabbed you by the waist with one hand and pulled you into his body tightly, pressing his lips to your neck. As his lips found your sensitive spot on your neck, his hands palmed their way over your breasts, gently cupping them and squeezing them as he felt you up. 

“Mhmm, Bob,” you groaned softly as he made contact with your sensitive skin. 

Bob pulled away for a moment and frowned slightly, remembering his earlier confession to Hangman. He let out a deep exhale before turning to face you, his facial expression full of concern as he spoke.

“Listen, I have to tell you something before we go any further, ok?” His voice was quiet and low, almost in a whisper as he spoke.

You nodded in response and waited, listening intently as Bob spoke.

“I’ve never…you know,” He finally said.

“Never?”

“No, never.”

“Do you want to though…?” You asked after a few moments of contemplation.

Bob bit his lip and laughed softly as he nodded his head quickly. 

“Believe me, I really do.”

“Then I’m honoured to be your first,” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek gently.

His cheeks flushed a bright scarlet red as you spoke. Without further hesitation, Bob leaned in and kissed you passionately again, tangling his fingers gently in your hair as he pulled you in closer to him. He pulled away ever so slightly as he spoke and laughed nervously.

“You’re going to have to tell me if I’m doing any of this right, ok? Kissing is about the only thing I know how to do.”

You giggled softly as you nodded your head reassuringly to Bob as he drifted his lips down your neck to your collarbone. He gently ran his hand up your leg, his fingers brushing against the hemline of your sundress as his hand drifted slowly up your thigh. You felt him take a deep breath as he pressed his lips to your collarbone again, his fingertips grazing your underwear gently. He looked up at you without saying a word, his lips still hovering above your collarbone, as if to ask for permission to keep going. You bit your lip, holding back a grin as you nodded your head, giving him the signal to continue.

Bob’s fingertips grazed against the dampening fabric of your underwear again, moaning softly into your collarbone, he looked up at you as he slowly dragged them down off your legs and laughed softly. 

“Wow.” he said, trying to hide his mix of arousal and curiosity, “You’re uh…you’re pretty into this, aren’t you?” He laughed as he tossed your underwear to the floor. 

“Mhmm,” You smirked at him as you guided his hand, his fingers gently brushing against your folds, feeling your arousal as it began to gather on you. 

“Shit,” Bob laughed softly as he shook his head, “This is where I start to not know what I’m doing.” He gave you an apologetic look.

“Everyone has a first time, Bob, I’ll show you what to do,” You smiled reassuringly at him as you continued to guide his hand along your core. He smirked as his wandering hand found your clit, two of his fingers pressing against the sensitive nub as he discovered it. The sound that fell from your lips was almost enough to make Bob lose all self-control on the spot. He arched his eyebrow at you as he continued to gently draw circles on it with his finger. 

“Y-you can use your mouth there too,” you nodded, trying your best to think clearly as he pleasured you.

Bob bit his lip gently as he positioned himself between your legs. He took his glasses off and sat them beside your leg as he ducked his head down in between your legs. He gently pressed soft kisses to your folds, his tongue carefully lapping up your wet arousal as he kissed at you. You let out a loud moan as Bob’s lips made contact, but before he could lift his head up to see if you were ok, your hand was grabbing a handful of his sandy blonde hair, pulling his head into you gently to tell him to keep going.

Taking the hint, Bob continued to leave soft kisses on you, grinning as he heard you moan out. 

“Feels s’good, honey, keep doing that,” You encouraged as he began using his lips to suck at your sensitive clit, your hips bucking upwards against his mouth, your body craving being as close to him as humanly possible.

Your compliment to Bob’s skill turned something on in him, and suddenly, he began moving his lips in the same rhythm but with more passion, like he’d just discovered his God-given talent on this earth was using his mouth to pleasure you into oblivion. As you reached your boiling point, Bob continued to lap his tongue at you, his lips sucking on your clit as you rode it out. He pulled his mouth away from you before pulling his t-shirt over his head. He wiped his mouth on his shirt before discarding it to the floor and working to unbuckle his belt before dropping his shorts to the ground. His boxers were tenting with arousal as he looked down at you, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

“Do you…do we need anything?” He asked as he tried build up the confidence to do what he was about to.

“I’m clean and on the pill,” You nodded your head and laughed softly, “So you’re good.”

“Right,” Bob chuckled softly as he nodded his head before peeling his boxer briefs down off his body. 

Bob stroked his length before lining his hips up with yours. He took a deep breath and looked to you for an indication that you were ready, that you were sure you wanted to go through with this. As you flitted your gaze to him, biting your lip as you sized him up, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. Bob looked at you, somewhat mortified as his eyes widened.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just…bigger than I’d pictured, if you get me. You might need to take a pause once you get started so I can adjust to you, mkay?”

“Gotcha, don’t worry darlin’,” Bob nodded knowingly and laughed as he ran a hand through his hair. 

You let out a sharp exhale as Bob lined his hips up with yours and gently pushed himself into you. As promised, he paused for you to adjust to his size, waiting for you to tell him you were ready for him to start. Once he heard you give the ok, he began thrusting his hips in and out of you, a deep grunt escaping his lips as he felt your body tighten around him, your arousal dripping from you and onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” Bob groaned as he thrusted deeper into you, finding his rhythm, “You feel so good, darlin’.”

“Keep going, baby,” you purred at him, encouraging him to continue before throwing your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name loudly.

Bob felt your walls clenching against him, gripping his erection tightly as he pumped himself in and out of your body. He felt as you arched your back against the bed, bucking your hips upwards into his thrusts as you came close to your climax again. He groaned loudly in pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier and more frantic.

“Fuck, darlin’, I’m so close,” He hissed as he let out another flurry of sinful sounding moans and grunts as he came.

The two of you sighed in unison as you rode your pleasure out together. Bob panted as he pulled himself out of you, his cheeks red from breathlessness as he tried to compose himself. He hovered over you, a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. You pressed your lips to his passionately, moaning softly against them as your overstimulated body struggled between wanting more from him, and wanting to take a break.

“How was I for my first time then?” He grinned at you. 

“I never would have believed you if you told me that was your first time after we’d done it. I also don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before this either.”

Bob smirked as he laid himself down beside you in bed, putting his glasses back on.

“Well, apparently I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?

[leighsartworks216]

On The Count Of Three

Harvey x FTM!Farmer

I've been thinking about this idea for days, but I've only just been able to write it sort of like how I want it. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but trying to expand it out made it worse so I chose the less worse option (in my mind). Slightly inspired by my fear of needles and my third-degree yearns of wanting Harvey to take care of me

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

Word Count: 1,002

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey washed his hands in the bathroom sink. He wasn’t even thinking about it, so second nature to nearly everything he did at work. Instead, he thought mostly about what he needed to grab from the medicine cabinet.

A bandaid, disinfectant, a fresh needle, and the bottle of testosterone. He repeated them in his head like a mantra as he dried his hands off and began grabbing each item in turn. With everything secured in his arms, he leaves the bathroom behind and heads into the bedroom. 

The farmer fidgeted anxiously as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intensely as he set everything aside and ripped open the disinfecting wipe.

Harvey couldn’t help but feel honored to be trusted with this. Yes, he was a doctor, but it was nearly a year after their arrival in Pelican Town that they told him about their plans for medically transitioning. They’d admitted to him later that they were afraid of the people in this small town rejecting them or worse. They were so alone in Zuzu City for so long, they’d hate to feel that way again here.

This had become a sort of ritual after that. When the prescription first came in, they’d held it in their hands, staring down at it as they sat on the exam table, like it was an alien baby they were holding. He asked if they needed help the first time, to know what to do. But it quickly became abundantly clear when he tried handing the prepped needle off to them that they couldn’t do it on their own.

As he knelt down on the rug by the bed, he looked up at them. They were looking away now, staring hard at the wall. Their hands shook in their lap, fingers tapping uneven patterns against their thighs. The cold shock of the disinfectant startled them, but they just closed their eyes and tapped another rapid pattern against their skin. He set the used wipe aside and removed the guard off the needle, drawing the proper amount of the hormone into the reservoir before setting the bottle aside.

Each sound made them more visibly anxious. He could hear them swallow thickly, hear the slight tremor in their breaths. If he was any closer, he’d hear the rapid beating of their heart against their ribcage.

He took one of their hands in his, and kissed the slightly sweaty palm with deep fondness. He thought this was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen them do. Nevermind going down into the mines, every single week they faced their fear, trusting in him to get them through it. And every single week, he did, and every week after they were ready to close their eyes, grit their teeth, and get through it again.

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths now, alright?”

The first inhale was shaky. The exhale was squeezed out like somebody trying to get air out of a bag before they closed it. He waited patiently as they repeated the doctor’s orders a few more times, each subsequent one becoming smoother and easier. He hummed his approval, encouraging them to keep going.

He kissed their palm again reassuringly before setting their hand aside with a comforting squeeze. When he let go, their next exhale was choppy and nervous. There was nothing for it; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner they’d actually be able to calm down.

“Okay, ready?”

They nodded, eyes shut impossibly tight as they prepared for the sting.

“On the count of three. One… two… three.”

He slid the needle into the appropriate depth, drew some blood into the needle, and pressed down on the plunger to inject the dose. Their hands clenched into tight fists, clutching at nothing or the blanket underneath them. They remained that way for a moment after he removed the needle and clicked the guard back in place and set it safely aside. He peeled open the bandaid, removed the two pieces protecting the sticky parts, and expertly planted it over the injection site.

“All done! How are you feeling?” He took both their hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles to smooth out their fists. They sighed deeply as they finally opened their eyes to look down at him, blinking spots from their vision.

“Exhausted,” they admitted. Harvey was no stranger to how much energy being scared ripped out of a person. He kissed the inside of their wrist. “Thank you for helping me with this. I know it’s kind of stupid.”

He squeezed their hands. “Hey, it’s not stupid. I think being scared of needles is a very justified fear.”

They huffed. “I know, it’s just… We’ve been doing this every week for how long now? I shouldn’t be so scared, but even just thinking about it…” They shuddered. “Which is dumb because it just happened, and it barely hurt at all, so why am I still so freaked out by it?”

He stood up from the ground, letting their hands go to brush some hair from their face, cupping their cheek sweetly. “You remember our first date?”

A bubbly laugh erupted from them. They didn’t expect this to be brought up again after so long. “Yeah, I remember.”

He smiled. “I was terrified of going up in that hot air balloon. But I still did, because…” He chuckles bashfully. “Well, because you were so brave, I felt like I could do it anyway, if you were there. But I’m still terrified of heights!”

“So, you’d go up in another balloon if I was there?”

“In a heartbeat. I’ll always be scared, but if you’re there, I can be a little brave. Or at least try to be.”

They grinned, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to their lips, mustache tickling their upper lip in an oh so familiar and pleasant way. “And I love you.”

[stressfulsloth]

What do you think of the like “It won't put smoke back in her mouth...” from Harry’s dream on the third day?

I took it somewhat literally and thought maybe Dora smoked, maybe she smoked with Harry specifically, but not on her own. Maybe she quit shortly before they split, or maybe he just had a fond memory of her smoking. Harry does seem to go for smokers (Klaasje, Kim, The Smoker on The Balcony, Tommy Le Homme according to some- which I didn’t pick up on but I’m pretty dense) which is pretty much the only thing that lends any credibility to my interpretation.

But I was curious if you (or anyone else) had any other interpretations or if I’d missed something completely.

So I think there are multiple implications to that line, although ofc I could be way off base! Smoking as a literal piece of Harry's life, something that actually anchors a lot of his remaining memories, and also as a pretty layered metaphor for love under capitalism. That line is a continuation of this section:

"The smoke in her mouth," sounding a lot more literal in the first section. These are concrete memories, sight memories- potted flowers, faces in a crowd, a half-remembered woman always mid way through breathing out a lungful of smoke- and the smoke lends them a kind of ephemeral half-obscured quality. It sounds likely in these half-remembered scenes that Dora was a literal smoker and was from the beginning- maybe to impress him? It's something that she refers to in the final dream- she saw him "smoking in the bus stop" and thought he was the *coolest* (as has been pointed out, a parallel to Harry's reaction to Kim smoking on the balcony!). You're right that Harry goes for smokers, and they are not in short supply in Martinaise. Smoking is a stress reliever, an appetite suppressant, a crutch for people struggling to get by- Martinaise has few places to buy proper food but does have a kiosk to buy cigarettes. Perhaps Dora's smoking started like their relationship, as something she thought looked impossibly cool, and slowly became an unhealthy coping mechanism tangled up in stress and poverty.

I think because Harry's fragmented memories are so steeped in cigarette smoke, he also associates cigarettes with longing for the unattainable, with things lost never to be regained, with his youth. He calls the smoker on the balcony the "god of youth and cigarettes". The smell of cigarettes triggers a wave of "warm nostalgia," invokes a time before he became ground down by life and by his job. Dora smoking, mouth full of smoke, sets her amongst these unattainable desires.

I think Dora smoking symbolically has a lot to do with the "lungs are for love" idea, too, with smoking being a slow corruption of that love. Glowing lungs slowly filled up with tar, idealised love slowly succumbing to the pressures of capitalism, of poverty, until there's barely room left in the lungs to draw breath. It's another shadow cast by Dolores Dei and her glowing lungs, glowing because "the world loved her and she loved it back!" (although I think it's fair to say that given the war crimes committed by her "army of humanity," her love for the world can be called into question somewhat). Obviously there are a lot of Dora-Dolores parallels and so I think that if Dolores' lungs are significant then Dora's are too (not even touching on the supernatural subsuming of Dora's self within Dolores, the literal consumption of her via the historical embodiment of white bourgeois femininity). Where Dora and Dolores have become irrevocably tangled in Harry's mind, he fixates on her glowing lungs, her love and her unattainability. Her smoking in that initial flash of memory is something very innately human, compared to the symbolic thing that she warps into later on, more "inhuman," more "unsettling." Putting the smoke back in her mouth- putting the Dora-ness back in her? Rewinding the clock to before this all-consuming unattainability.

Anyway! I am sure that's a much longer and more rambling answer than you wanted, and I apologise for that! But yeah, I agree that Dora probably was literally a smoker 😅

[tanya-shiza]

Tired Gold busts (2/2) // LMK Medicinal Flower AU

Part 1: [LINK]

Yay 🎉 I was finally able to draw Wei Jian and he doesn't look ugly... It's a pity it's not full-length, but I wanted to draw something like a bust 😃☺️

About Wei Jian:

Wei Jian is an office plankton, but he is happy with it. He loves his job, despite the fact that the boss is very strict and changes workers like gloves.

Wei Jian's boss is the richest man in China. (Yes, that's Reng Zhang Ji from my Coin AU. I originally created Reng Zhang Ji for this au, but he fits better in Coin AU. In Coin AU, Reng Zhang Ji also mentions Wei Jian as the kindest person he's ever met 😉 In Coin AU, the Mystic Mayor became Shi Cheng. Shi Cheng and Wei Jian never met.)

Wei Jian was employee of the month 3 times (which is almost impossible) and accordingly his photo was hung on the wall of honor.

Wei Jian is friends with the guard at the entrance to the office building named Yu Cu. He is a bit emotionless and rather grumpy. Employees often encounter his stubbornness. However, Wei Jian has been working for quite a long time and during this time Yu Cu fell for his kindess.

Sometimes the guard even does a little help and marks Wei Jian as «here» if he is suddenly late in order to avoid him being fired for being late often. If managers find out about this, they both are fined, of course. But Yu Cu forgives Wei Jian for this.

Wei Jian is not a fan of sports, much less, beer, but Yu Cu is. Sometimes, for help with delays, the guard asks Wei Jian to go to the bar with him to watch football together. (It was in this bar that Wei Jian first noticed Shi Tiao, who had a bad habit of getting drunk after work.)

Wei Jian is earns above average, which is suprised Shi Tiao because he the one who earns more, but Wei Jian's apartment, car and clothes create the illusion that the opposite is true.

Wei Jian is a great cook and often watches cooking shows, but unlike the Demon Bull King and Pigsy, he is not a fan of Chang'e or her baking. There is a character in Nexo Knights called Gobbleton Rumble, who is a reference to a real person. Wei Jian would be a fan of him.

You might be wondering, since Wei Jian is so perfect, why doesn't he have a wife yet? He's already 36 years old! The thing is that Wei Jian is kinda cursed, but no one knows about it. Wei Jian was born under a star that destroys any chances of finding a female companion. Wei Jian tries hard, but all relationships end before they last even 2 months. His record is 3 months and 4 days.

However, the star did not say anything about male companion 😏😉 But Wei Jian never even thought that he can choose males as a partner.

Due to numerous failures in dates, Wei Jian became very worried about it. He is disappointed in himself and thinks that he is bad at relationships, although in fact it is the opposite.

Shi Tiao and Wei Jian's relationship wasn't official for a long time. They just acted like a couple, but never called each other boyfriend.

Wei Jian is very afraid that his relationship with Shi Tiao will end up like all the others. This is his deep unconscious fear, which only will be find out when Hua Kan mentions that their friendship is more like a romantic relationship.

Wei Jian was born into a "female family". That's means, he has only Grandma and Mom, who love him very much. Especially Grandma. This is important because Wei Jian didn't have a "masculine" figure, so he took his mother's lead, which led to how gentle, kind and caring he became.

Wei Jian is under intense pressure from his grandma and mother towards a wife and children. They are very concerned that their only son has achieved everything except the favor of a woman.

The numerous mentions of women make Wei Jian wary. He worries that his grandma nad mother might not accept Shi Tiao because he is a man.

⚠️Triggers will be mentioned below! Be careful!⚠️

Suicide

Premature babies

Postpartum depression / Regular depression

Wei Jian was born about 2 months earlier than he should have been. He was premature. This affected his body, of course. He was born very skinny, weak, and his eyesight was poor. He has been wearing glasses since he was a baby. None of his family wore glasses before old age.

One nice day, when nothing foreshadowed trouble Wei Jian's mother returned home and find her husband hanged himself in the living room. Such a horrific shock immediately caused labor. The mother gave birth with difficulty.

The loss of the beloved husband, who never said that anything was worring him, hit the woman hard. She fell into depression and completely forgot about her newborn son, who needed a lot of attention given his premature birth.

In order for Wei Jian's young bones to grow properly, his mother often gave him massages that doctors taught her. At such moments, she felt love and care for her son, unfortunately, this was not enough to forget about the grief.

Then the grandma took care of Wei Jian's needs. Seeing how the boy grows incredibly skinny and often undernourished due to the mother's distance, the grandma moves in to live with them in order to support both: her daughter and grandson.

Grandma didn't mean to, but she accidentally overfed her grandson, and Wei Jian was quite chubby for several years in his teen age (high school). This was especially bad because his bones weren't as strong as he'd like. After entering university and receiving a doctor's note, Wei Jian immediately set about getting himself in shape. Even to this day, Wei Jian takes care of his health. He helps Shi Tiao take care of his health and eat right. It was Wei Jian who helped Shi Tiao break his habit of drinking after a hard day at the bar.

Because the massages brought Wei Jian's mother peace and relief, she continued to do it even when it was no longer needed. One day, she even taught Wei Jian some of the techniques. Wei Jian sometimes uses them because Shi Tiao often complains of joint pain.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Faes and humankind are never meant to be together, but Coviello has plans to prove that wrong.

TW/S: Yandere behavior, non-canon to original Coviello, variant of twst! Coviello (huge inspo to Malleus from twst!), stalking, somno but not the sexual kind??, major character death/s (debatable but if you squint, you can see it), huge reference to the original cover of Once Upon a Dream by Lana Del Rey, delusional mindset, lol they're pulling some sleeping beauty shit here.

NOTE: Coviello is not from me, its from Meirin (@zhongrin/@meimeimeirin)! Also, this was something that hit me so hard after hearing the cover of once upon a dream... And drawing Coviello as Malleus did not help my delusions.

As a dragon fae, Coviello is no stranger to the waking of death.

They have attested this by seeing how humans can only live for so long, be it by decades... Or a few years, if they were unlucky. Some were even unfortunate to have their lives snuffed before they were given the chance to live.

To them, they were birthed from an egg, and although they had the temper worse than of a common fae, their family took care of them. At least... To the best of their abilities.

As they grew up, their eyes have witnessed tragedies. Some fell on their kind, while others fell on themselves.

It was when they achieved their signature spell: one that is so tied to the song that they heard their mother sing. However, there was a catch to that spell.

That is... Coviello must know the person's name, for this spell needs it as a payment of it's own.

If it doesn't... Well, they didn't need to remember. They knew what the payment was in return of the lack of name. Who's to say they didn't experienced it themselves?

And so, they lived on. They've watched as times change, but they remained the same. If anything, they were quite displeased with how things seem to happen so quickly.

There was nothing to catch their eye. Nothing that could make them slow down, to admire, aside from the sweets they get or from admiring the simple scenery... Or even with their animal companion.

That is, until they met you.

Housewarden of Ramshackle and Crowley's little helper.

You were the light of their life, something that made them stop to look twice.

And you two met at a time where they thought it was impossible, which was Night Raven College.

At the time, it was a simple nightly stroll for Coviello. They were out to see the abandoned ruins of Ramshackle, to simply get away from the chaos of Diasomnia. And in such a time, they had simply thought they would get a sliver of peace.

However, they were displeased to see that they weren't... And it was because of you.

Still, they held their tongue and became cordial. In their mind, you were simply there to be like them: to escape from whatever dorm you were stuck in, or to get your bearings over something else before heading back to rest.

However, they were gravely mistaken. They realized that, no, you weren't doing that... And you were an insomniac.

That, and you LIVED in that abandoned, dilapidated of a dorm.

Coviello had to reel in the urge to ask you to repeat yourself. That was a shock they never expected, and they were one to have witnessed the horrors of it all.

And yet, from the look in your eyes, you weren't kidding. And you were even more bold to ask them of their name.

In the folklore and basic knowledge of faes, one mus not tell them your real name. This was so to limit the possibility of them taking some form of ownership, a title of their claim on you.

However, Coviello what they didn't expect was for you to willingly give up your name, and even give them a nickname of your own.

You called them 'Vii'. A playful iteriation of their name, but they had no heart to correct you.

You were a peculiar being, but maybe... It was better you stay oblivious.

For their sake.

That day, Coviello was not the same as others had noticed.

If anything, it would seem as though they changed. The once feared leader of Diasomnia had their heart softened over someone that no one knew, but those who did were left confused.

Who knew that one human could make them feel like this? And yet, they did.

Every time Coviello was with you, you made it clear that it was simply to be with them as a friend. You weren't going to restrict Coviello for what they should or shouldn't do, and you were there to support them.

You made the fae feel human. Someone who was worth hearing out for.

And for them, they got addicted.

However, it wasn't long till they have witnessed your struggles. You were still human, so it was clear that you had your own issues, too.

One was how people took advantage of your kindness.

You have your heart on your sleeve far too many times, and Coviello had to witness that happen. It was almost like you never learned how it feels to be used, and when you did... You were hurt.

They hated it. They hated seeing just how miserable you are sometimes. And they hated how you seem to act like your misery was not a big deal.

Still, you trudged on, just like a soldier is to the sight of a war.

As for Coviello, they stayed... Waiting.

Waiting for your walls to crumble.

What they lacked back then was patience, but oh, Coviello had enough time in the world to remain patient. They knew in themselves that the time will come that you'll admit defeat.

And each time that things happened, the burden was placed on you. Each time you try to justify it wasn't your fault, people never believed you.

You were a magicless human. You don't deserve to have a voice, they told you.

And each time, you swore to yourself that you felt someone was on you. Someone who kept watching you from a distance, far from your untrained eyes.

Coviello truly didn't mean to scare you, but they were curious. They wanted to see if you were able to understand the predicament you were under, and how each one of them would let you take the blame.

They were all cowards. You and Coviello knew that. But did you believe them?

No. No, you didn't.

And to see them resort to it after all the warning they gave you was... Disappointing. But maybe it was worth for the beauty that they've seen.

That in some way, you were stubborn to prove their words wrong.

However, Coviello has seen it. Each time that you went through it, they could see how difficult it is to remain the same perception.

Which leads them to now, with cradling your body in their arms after they had the entirety of Night Raven College under their control. Under their power, slumbering as peacefully as they can.

"... But if I know you, I know what you'll do," they whispered by your ear, pulling your body closer to them. "You'll love me at once, the way you did..."

"Once Upon a Dream."

And just like that, your body went limp, your rushed breaths becoming quiet. Coviello could only imagine what pleasant dreams you have under their spell as flowers bloomed, traversing to cover your eyes to keep them 'closed'.

Once Upon a Dream— a signature spell only they can wield, which renders whoever hears those words in a deep slumber. And the worst part?

All they need is a name of the recipient for it to work.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[aqua-the-smiter]

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦୨୧✦•······················•✦•······················•✦ ℑ𝔯𝔬𝔫 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 Ferrus Manus x female oc (Argena Seeva) Other parts in the reblogs Ferrus, in a bid to one up his pain-in-the-ass brother Fulgrim, takes up drawing. Gets some reference help from his long suffering friend and senechal, Argena. Part of my AU I have cleverly called the Primarch Wife AU. Happy endings, the boys get the help they need, Big E is a good dad and, most importantly, everybody gets a wife. Because big husband and small wife makes brain go brr

Sexual content/NSFW after the cut - Very lewd-but-not-lewd touching, Ferrus jacking off to his future wife while trying to get work done, idiots in love. @thevoidscreams @pringles-plaguehaus ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦୨୧✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊ “Gena?” Ferrus asked, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “I have a…strange favor to ask of you.” Argena put down the loop of silver she’d been polishing and turned around on her stool to face him as she heard him out. Throne, he even looked uncomfortable, and she wondered what exactly he needed that he was looking so hot under the collar. Ferrus Manus was many things, but wavering was not one of them. Actually he was kind of cute like that. She mentally slapped herself almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind. HE. IS. YOUR. BOSS. She’d been with him for over a year and half at this point. It felt like it should have been longer. Falling into the role of his senechal had been so easy after a while. Especially after they’d started spending more time simply enjoying each other’s company. He was a surprisingly layered man once he opened up enough to show it. And, she heavily suspected, a lonely one too. So they’d gotten close more easily than she would have first thought. It even showed in the way he addressed her. Gena, a more tender nickname than her given. “Does it have anything to do with your ongoing attempts to one up your brother?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It does, yes. Look, I can’t help it. Fulgrim has been driving me mad recently, so I want to pay him back in kind.” “I know, I know. And if you pull it off you’ll make him absolutely seethe.” “It” in question was Ferrus putting a serious effort into learning how to draw. He could already, but it was an entirely different kind. Technical drawings, machine blueprints, weapon schematics. Nothing really artistic, although it could be counted as a form of art in its own right if you asked her. Watching him work was hypnotic, the movement of the pencil or stylus in his metal hands impossibly graceful. Elegant even. But most people didn’t see it that way. Resident artsy fuck, Fulgrim, certainly didn’t. Constantly making little jabs and jokes at his best friend’s inability to produce anything else than purely practical drawings. Finally, Ferrus had enough and announced to her in private that he was going to produce a piece of actual art better than anything Fulgrim could do (and he wasn’t as good as everyone thought he was, including himself) out of pure brotherly spite. The early results were rough, but promising. Argena herself had quite a bit of skill, picked up from her goldsmithing hobby, and he’d come to her with practice sketches, rudimentary shapes and simple three dimensional objects. It took him a while, but he was definitely getting it. His talent for technical drawings was beginning to shine through with the clean linework. In short, it seemed he might actually do it. “That is the goal.” He said, just a little smug. “So what do you need me for, pray tell my lord?” She prompted. The Primarch seemed to steel himself for a moment. “Well…I feel I’m ready to move on to…organic materials now. I can only draw my own tools so much before I cease to learn any more from the exercise. I was going to ask if I could study you. Your anatomy, I mean.” And it already sounded like that would involve less clothes than she started with that day. “...Study my anatomy? How so? Moreover, why?”

“Feel up your body. Your muscles, skeletal structure, general build. How everything connects and moves together. I find that I learn best when I am up to the elbows in it so to speak, so being able to touch it would be the best thing. You are the only person I feel comfortable coming to with this. It is, ultimately, quite a petty thing I’m after. You have been very understanding of me. More than I thought would be possible.” Ferrus paused for a moment, wondering if what he had to say next was even a good idea before deciding he’d take that chance. “Also, you are objectively a very beautiful woman. Whatever someone’s personal tastes may be, nobody could look at you and deny it. And subjectively, I think you are a beautiful woman. For those reasons you’d make the best subject for what I’m trying to accomplish. If the goal of art is to create something pleasing to the eye, something that captures the beauty of the world and the enthusiasm of the creator in a still image, you would be a perfect basis. Not like the mess of colors and lines Fulgrim throws on his canvases.” He spoke so frankly. Ferrus was always a very no-nonsense type of person, but to have that direct, blunt nature used in such a glowing description of her was something else entirely. Because you knew for a fact when he said something, he meant it. It made her feel very warm inside. “And this is purely for research, right?” She asked tentatively. “Purely objective.” He swore. “And I won’t go any farther than you want or touch you anywhere you don’t want to be touched. I’ll fill in any gaps in my knowledge with an anatomy book. Just tell me where to stop, and I will.” Somehow a Primarch who’d grown up in the wilderness eating sand had a better concept of boundaries than many people. “Well...I trust you, so I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” She said after a moment, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m willing. Let’s do it.” He gave her one of his rare smiles (that seemed to be becoming less rare nowadays come to think of it), genuinely grateful. It made her feel more at ease with the agreement. Who knows, it might even be fun. ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[spectrechosts]

Date Night - Chapter 8

Willow becomes something not quite undead, but not quite human.

She's reading this, the reference landed better when the two stories were posted on the same website days apart.

Full Series

Willow hisses through her teeth as the IV pierces her skin.

"Are you alright?" Senna asks, as if she hasn't seen enough evidence that Willow reacts to needles the same way every single time. "Do you want to stop?"

"Yes I'm alright, no I don't want to stop." She says, letting herself look at the tube sticking out of her arm, trailing up to the hook of a stand and then back down to a pump that is, in turn, drawing blood from Alice.

"Is this how ghouls are made, these days?" Alice says, watching her tainted blood slowly climb through the setup. "'s more boring than I remember."

"Yes." Senna says, tersely. "It's boring and sterile and safe. Willow, do you feel okay?"

Willow smiles softly. "Nothing's happened yet, Senna." She says, tilting her head at the IV tube that is still very much empty. "Pretty lightheaded from all the blood you took to make room, but I'm used to the feeling."

"Right, right, of course." Says Senna, pacing. "Alice, are you-"

"Fine, love. Don't feel a thing, can take it all if you want." Alice hums lazily, and Senna sighs.

"Right, that's- Obviously. Right." She says. "It might be better if I just- Step out for a bit. You know me, I'm fussy."

"If you think that's best." Says Alice, and Senna nods.

"Yeah, I'll just take a little walk. You're both fine."

She lets out a deep breath, and leans over to kiss the both of them.

"Love you both, be back in a bit." She says, and Alice and Willow echo that they love her as she leaves.

They sit and wait, the sounds of the pump filling the room until-

"A-Ah!"

Willow squeaks as Alice's blood hits her veins, begins working its way through her body like a poison.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Alice asks, and Willow nods rapidly, teeth gritted. "That's normal. Try to relax, it only lasts a moment."

It's impossible to relax. It feels like her blood has caught fire, the burn spreading all throughout her insides. She squirms and whines as it fills her, and then-

It's gone.

Almost as fast as it spread it fades, leaving only a slight numbness behind.

"There you go, you're okay." Alice says, and Willow blinks in confusion.

"Th-That's it?" She asks, and Alice chuckles.

"That's the hard part." She says. "Now we just sit here until you're full up, so it sticks."

"Huh. I don't feel any different."

"You will, give it a few days for the big stuff."

"Oh." Willow says, underwhelmed. "But like, that's it? I'm immortal now?"

"Ageless. Not immortal. Don't go hurling yourself in harms way." Alice says. "But yes, long as you keep getting vampire blood."

"And what happens if I run out?"

"Nothing, be a human again."

"Oh. Neat!"

The pump whirs away.

"So how long do we keep sitting here?" Asks Willow.

"Couple hours, Senna said." Says Alice. "Booooring."

"Oh, if I only had a dashing pirate queen to sweep me off my feet and drain me nearly dry, open her veins and bid me drink deep of her cursed blood; forced to choose between death and eternal servitude." Willow says, closing her eyes and sighing dramatically.

"And then she ravishes you?" Alice asks.

"And then she ravishes me." Willow answers, cracking an eyelid.

"Well, the pirate queen's wife said she feels a lot better using proper medical equipment for this." Alice says. "Sorry perv."

Willow giggles, and pulls out her phone to pass the time.

"Hey-" She asks, a while later. "You deal in all sorts of monster bits for your job, right?"

Alice's eyes slowly drift open. "Sure." She says. "Why?"

"Have you ever come across, ah, something like this?" Willow asks, and she hands her her phone.

Alice takes it and blinks, squinting at the screen.

"What am I-?"

"Just- Read. You'll see."

"It says part four, should I start at the start or-"

"No, just- read."

Moments pass, and Alice snorts.

"Filthy." She chides, and Willow's cheeks have no shortage of blood as she flushes red.

"Yes or no?" She asks meekly.

"Wyverns aren't real, Willow. I think you'd have noticed if they were." Alice says.

"You- You're deflecting." Willow whines, and Alice shrugs innocently.

"I'll look into it." She says, passing the phone back to her. "Later. When we're sure you can appreciate such a thing properly."

Willow swallows hard.

"Cool." She squeaks, and she goes back to scrolling her phone in silence.

[wulvert]

I hope this isn’t one of those impossible to answer questions but, how did you start drawing/stay motivated?? I’ve wanted to make comics/ just draw in general for awhile but my art always looks BADDDD and seeing people (like my bf for example) be great at art and even going to university for it it’s like…. Huhhggugugufufgguugufufufuufufufufuueuwuaaaaaaaaa- and demotivates me a little, yk??

i started drawing bc i wanted to draw warrior cats

staying motivated is different for everyone, for me, NOW I really want to be able to draw my ocs fast and efficiently, im the only one who can draw my ocs because im the only one who knows them so i must do it, and i want to draw them well so I must improve. This may not work for everyone but I am an insanely jealous person, I covet so hard. obvs we covet what we see every day, so following artists I'm jealous of makes me want to get better, and to get better i must keep drawing so one day i can be like twitter user #42. I guess that's finding inspiration. maybe FIND INSPIRATION!!! is a nicer recommendation than become ENVIOUS. sorry. follow your inspirations.

Making drawing not a painful gut wrenching experience is incredibly important, personally I like to get something DONE, i want to fail FAST and move onto the next thing, I rarely sketch and i do thick non intricate line art to accommodate this, if i was forcing myself to do insanely rendered portraits every day i would stop drawing, i dont like it or find it fun! maybe once in a blue moon is a good time.

Doing figure drawings is genuinely the biggest game changer, not even to get better at art, obviously it does that but as a side effect it makes drawing so much easier, if i want to draw a full body now It is not a battle, i can just do that, even if it is wonky i can complete it without struggling on a sketch for three hours. I think improving your fundamentals makes drawing more fun and less like a slog to get through. I started trying to do figure drawing every day a couple months ago, i dont always manage but i try to get it most days of the week & now the way i feel about drawing has flipped entirely, the amount of art i post has like quadrupled since september.

Feeling bad about your art is normal! I have never felt happy with mine, i know i cant draw faces very well and i avoid feet but I will get there one day if i keep it up, im focusing my reference drawing on faces atm! I am the happiest with it i have ever been just because im having fun with it for the first time in a long time but I still have a long way to go. Keeping it up is hard but it is worth it if its something you enjoy :) Finding method that you enjoy drawing with takes a long time, It took me years to figure out i just do not like using pen pressure at all whatsoever & since then digital drawing has become a lot less physically painful for my hand lol.

also making comics just helps a lot. you dont have time to make everything perfect, you just have to keep drawing and getting better. u will hate all your old pages eventually it genuinely rules.

I hope this doesnt read as BECOME ENVIOUS AND SPIT OUT DRAWINGS FAST WITH NO REGARD FOR QUALITY bc that isnt what i mean, i just mean streamlining my process helped me find what i like to focus on in my art which is shape and colour, and learning how to make shapes better helped me have more fun. I like quality and spending time perfecting things i just like spending time on the things i care about! & now im trying to branch out into other non illustration stuff im just having a good time.

soz this is long i hope it answered ur question in some form

[kiukiu1270]

Fully finished 15 Nikolai AU Character sheet + Headcannons!!!

Nikolai is a Piano player and I will not accept him playing any other instrument other than that. His cannon design even looks like a Piano how much more piano-y can a character get?? He is those self-taught pianist. The type that only knows chords and those weird numbered sheets music you get in those church songs lol (Fyodor taught him to read sheet music later on ;3)

Also pianist of 10 years writing over here, The tenor clef page is based on personal experiences.

It took me so long to figure out his sexuality, It was between Gay, Pan, Achillean but I settled with Omnisexual

“Omnisexual refers to someone who is romantically, emotionally, or sexually attracted to persons of all genders and orientations”Basically, All is good. But of course he does have some (a lot) of Internalised Homophobia and Religious Trauma (Haven’t fully figured it out yet in my head but I’m working on it)

Figure skating ehhhhhhh (for personal reasons) Realistically it is near impossible to do a Hydroblade self taught and pretty much figure skating isn’t a hobby that you can just buy a pair of skates (1000usd per pair) (he stole those with his ability ofc) but you can’t just teach yourself through YouTube videos (based on…. Experience….) (you Will Hurt yourself) but I meannnn He has an magical portal opening ability, he got plot armour. (And I like figure skating)

Random Trivia

Cavetown coded, Star coded, Neurodivergent, Enfp, likes cardistry (like magicians you get it), has the biggest crush on Fyodor (if it wasn’t obviously enough lol), likes Pigeons (yk street rats) (I love pigeons, they deserve more love), (Personally I think cannon adult Nikolai is more white Dove coded tho), Loves theatre and the stage (based on irl Mykola), Irl Mykola was queer, Loves Tchaikovsky (me too) (Tchaikovsky was also queer btw (he was very gay)), likes Mykola Lysenko (carol of the bells original composer) (ayy father of Ukrainian classical music and him share the same name!!) (I love researching about Ukrainian culture while making this)(Ukraine is so beautiful, I wish we could’ve had the chance to visit it in its beautiful light and glory before yk…) (Making this was very emotional) (Don’t forget to support Support Ukraine guys) 🌻🇺🇦🫶

Btw here are some songs that I listened to while drawing him!!!

(Definitely listens to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture to fw Fyodor lol)

(Btw go watch my 15 Fyolai Astronomy mini Animatic on my page)

(This is Home will always have a special place in my heart)

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Things I'm Not

Series: A Study in Spite

Requested by: @heartbreakgrill and @whatsupb18

Word Count: 14,000 (But I promise it's worth it.)

Summary: Even after your parents kicked you out, you thought you would be safe with Kol. Unfortunately for you, hateful people suck and don't know when to give up. || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

Warnings: Oh, boy... Where do I start? This fic starts out fluffy but it does not stay that way. There's language, violence, quite a bit of blood, A-N-G-S-T, brief references to suicide, mentions of guardian figures encouraging self-harm, a sprinkling of brutality, and some not-so-healthy relationship behavior. But the request asked for psychotic and I delivered as best I could. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

🔪STORY BEGINS BELOW🔪

You were driven from your dreams by the grating sound of distant arguing. That was nothing unusual, your parents fought a lot lately. So was it really your fault if it took a solid 10 minutes for you to realize that the bickering voices didn't belong to your parents?

Come to think of it, something was off. The sheets surrounding you were much too soft to be yours and the bed beneath you was... breathing.

Your eyes snapped open.

Well... this wasn't your room.

A pair of arms held you close, one wrapped low around your waist and the other over your back. You had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of whoever you were cuddled up to. Dark hair, sharp features, soft expression.

Kol.

The night before came rushing back and you blushed fiercely, smiling to yourself all the same. Kol had kissed you. He'd asked you to stay, carried you back, and sang softly until you fell asleep in his arms. When you had first agreed to go out with him, you hadn't thought he actually cared about you. Why would he? No one else did. So even as time had worn on, the thought never really crossed your mind.

But you realized it now. Somehow, with the early morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow on his face, it was easier to see. He looked so young and innocent so peaceful - like the eighteen-year-old boy he should have been allowed to be. The ravenous animal under his skin was caged for now and the last thousand years of heartache could lay no claim on him here, so long as he remained in his dreams. It was impossible to imagine that an original vampire might somehow care for you. But Kol as you saw him now? That didn't seem so far-fetched.

Yes, you saw it now. That boy had a lot of love to give. Kol did care about you - truly. He genuinely wanted to take care of you. He wanted you to be alright - happy even.

How extraordinary.

You smiled and laid your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat just the same as yours. The two of you really weren't so different. It seemed silly that you'd once believed otherwise.

Kol hummed.

"I know you're awake, darling," He mumbled, still a little groggy. His arms around you tightened as he shifted and you bit your lip, eyes widening. His voice was quiet and raspy and... really hot actually - not that you'd ever admit that out loud. "But please-" He sighed, burying his face in your hair. " -don't make me get up yet?"

You snickered, shaking your head a bit though it was mostly just an excuse to nuzzle closer to him. "What? Is Mr. Perfection not a morning person?"

"Don't say that as if you are," He joked, lightly poking you in the side. You couldn't help but giggle and you shrugged, feeling a smile on his lips as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "How'd you sleep?"

Funny, he was the first person to ask you that in a while.

"Honestly?" You drew in a breath. "I haven't slept so well in two years." As soon as the words left your lips, you found yourself chuckling at the sheer absurdity of them. "And yeah, I'm well aware of just how stupid that is," You added.

"Why say that?" Kol wondered, lifting his head a little. His hand on your back took to drawing idle shapes along your shoulder blade. Those trailing fingers coaxed a shiver from your bones despite being surrounded by his pleasant warmth.

You shrugged but spoke anyway. Kol was safe - you knew now that you could tell him anything.

"Well, I've been going to counsel meetings since my freshman year of highschool," You explained quietly, playing with a strand of your hair. "I just never took them seriously until suddenly I was a senior and all these people around town - people I knew, went to school with, couples I'd baby-sat for - they all started dying. A-and I know what an animal attack looks like - I live in rural Virginia, for crying out loud!" You laughed but it quickly died off and your voice quieted further. "At council meetings, the police... they-they would show pictures o-of the bodies. They were never really very bloody, you know? So, uh... I mean, you-you could really see... inside." Memories flashed behind your eyes. Sickening, bloodless murals of mutilated muscle, tendons, skin, and bone.

Kol didn't speak. He just rubbed your back soothingly.

You shook your head minutely. "There were never any scratches," You mused. "No claws - just teeth. Mountain lions... mountain lions, or-or coyotes, they... they don't do that. So, when there was only one thing that could have... Well, I guess it was sort of like a slap to the face 'cuz these savage predators my parents had been telling me horror stories about for years were actually real and now they were right outside the door. So, I just got real scared... and I stopped sleeping."

You didn't have to see his face to know he was frowning, brows drawn together in a question.

"You... you saw?" He asked in hardly a whisper. You nodded. "And you still let me hold you?"

A wry smile tugged at your lips. "Pretty stupid, eh?"

The boy seemed to relax, he laid his head back and forced out a breath but the tension in his shoulders was far from gone. His arms tugged you closer as though he feared you might run away if he let go.

"How can you trust me if you've seen what I can do to you?" There was something very vulnerable in his voice as he asked that question. You were reminded of your conversation the night before - his own mother saw nothing good left in him, nothing worth loving.

You took a moment to answer, thinking it through.

"You made me a promise," You decided, nodding to yourself.

"I promised I'd never intentionally cause you pain," He said. "What if I slip up? It happens sometimes - I just get so hungry and I can't control it. What if I hurt you by accident?"

The words left your lips before you had time to doubt them. "I don't think you will."

"How can you be sure?" He rested his cheek against your hair, inhaling deeply. "I'm the most vile thing you've ever met."

"I know." You smiled but it was a lie. Kol was not the most vile thing you knew. That distinction took on a much more mundane form. "Though, if you're the most dangerous monster in the world, then I can sleep peacefully knowing that right next to you is the safest place I can be." You slipped your arms up around his neck, still too tired to give him a proper hug. "You'll keep all the monsters away... Even your own."

The boy huffed a laugh and before you really knew what was happening, you were lying on your back and Kol was hovering over you, grinning cheekily.

"You know, I think you're right," He said.

You smirked, stretching out a little. "Of course I am."

"You're also gorgeous." Kol brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were just as soft as they'd been the night before and his movements were just as sweet. That boy's kisses were like a winter champagne toast, bubbly and fun and just a little bit intoxicating, but nothing too serious. He knew you were still getting used to this - to him, and everything he was - so Kol was gentle and slow... But he was still himself. So naturally, when his champagne lips left yours, he immediately started working his way lower. Starting along your jaw and leaving a trail of achingly soft kisses as he moved down the column of your throat.

It was similar to the way he'd kissed you the night of your first date, except it was more meaningful this time - more personal. You realized that night had merely been a trial run, this was the real deal. Kol's lips found your pulse and he paused, letting go of an uncertain breath.

"Thank you for trusting me, Y/N," He murmured into your skin. Kol never said anything unless he really meant it.

You wove your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. "Thank you for caring."

"Always," He promised.

Kol's lips parted when he attacked your pulse again and those slow, perfect kisses lost a little bit of their innocence. He was too good at this. Each one left you craving more, so you couldn't really help the moan that escaped your lips when Kol dipped his head to mouth at your collarbones. The mark he'd left on you weeks before had faded but he seemed keen to replicate his work.

His kisses grew rougher, more fervent. Warmth bloomed wherever he touched and you found yourself utterly lost in it. Blunt teeth began scraping and nipping at your skin and-

Oh... Oh, that felt good.

His lips returned to your pulse, spreading a gooey, perfect heat down your spine in thick waves and his tongue darted out to steal a taste. Your body arched up and Kol groaned.

Then those blunt teeth turned sharper than knives.

You froze. Kol's breathing ran ragged and you gasped as he pressed their needle-like points into your skin with pressure on the very knife edge of drawing blood. The boy stilled.

When he pulled away, his eyes were closed and his expression drawn. You could see black veins writhing beneath the skin under his eyes and you watched, apprehensive, as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. The predator faded from the surface a few moments later and he sighed, opening his eyes. He offered you a dry smile.

"I think it's time for breakfast," He said softly. An apology lingered in those chocolate eyes.

But you were safe. Always safe. That was what mattered.

You gave him a smile to let him know you were okay. "Lead the way then." The boy grinned down at you.

At that precise moment, the door to Kol's bedroom flew open with a bang.

He closed his eyes and cursed.

"Well good morning, little brother!" An obnoxious voice exclaimed. The figure in the doorway could not have sounded any more smug.

"Bugger off, Nik," The boy snapped.

"Why? Having a good time with your lady friend?" Klaus teased, smirking.

Kol grimaced. "I was, no thanks to you." He moved off of you and stood before scooping you into his arms in the next second. "We're going to get breakfast now. Bye!"

"Wait!" You held up a hand to stop him. Kol raised a brow. "I need my phone. Gotta know if good ole' mom and dad have put a bounty on my head yet."

The boy chuckled but swiped your phone from the nightstand and passed it to you. "My lady."

Then the world lurched and you were sitting on the counter of the kitchen island. You blinked and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. When you looked up again, Klaus had joined you as well.

He stood in front of his younger sibling, arms folded behind his back. "Come now, brother. You know I don't mind you bringing your toys home, but I really must insist on knowing exactly who resides in my house at any given time." The hybrid's tone was mostly casual but it carried a lethal edge just beneath the surface. He turned on his heel, rounding on you. You knew he wouldn't hurt you though - he'd signed that treaty with the council same as Kol. "Who might you be, love?" He asked.

"And what do you want for breakfast?" Kol tagged on.

"I'm Y/N, but I'm not sure how much longer I'll be a Y/L/N," You replied, powering on your phone. You weren't sure what your parents would have to say about your little stunt, but you were positive it wouldn't be anything good. "Oh, and I saw some Pop Tarts in y'all's pantry last night and I don't mind if I do."

Klaus recognized your name though he wasn't sure from where. You gave him a moment to think and went scrolling through your texts.

"Really, darling? Pop Tarts?" Kol leveled you with a look of sheer disappointment.

"What? It's been forever since I had one of those things!" You defended.

"Why?"

You shrugged, trying to cover the twinge in your chest. "Weapons don't get junk food."

Kol blinked and his mouth pressed into a thin line. "You know what? Take as many bloody Pop Tarts as you want."

"Yay!"

Klaus' eyes darkened then and you knew he'd found his answer. "Your parents are on the Founder's Council." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yup. And that very same council is planning to gas this fine establishment with enough vervain to choke an undead horse sometime soon, so I suggest y'all start routinely checking your vents for the next couple of weeks." You sighed, looking up from reading the last of your parent's rage texts. "And before you ask: No, I don't know anything more than that because I'm not invited to their little meetings anymore."

"I'm afraid that sounds rather unlikely," A new voice chimed into the conversation. A man dressed in an expensive suit waltzed through the kitchen doorway. He looked like an older, less happy version of Kol, so you figured that must have been Elijah.

"No, I can assure you - she's been thoroughly shunned." Kol grinned as he got himself a plastic bag out of the refrigerator, the contents of which you tried not to pay attention to.

Elijah shot him a flat look. "I was referring to this supposed plot of the council. Mayor Lockwood already assured us there would be peace."

"I'm sure she did," You said. "However, Mayor Lockwood was not privy to the - what's a fancy word - formulation of this plan." You felt an odd need to step up your vocabulary in their presence.

Klaus seemed thoroughly - if not darkly - amused by your comments. He chuckled. "Sweetheart, she's the mayor."

"I'm aware of that, thanks," You deadpanned. "Problem is, an unfortunate majority of the council believes that some of its members have lost their nerve, namely Mayor Lockwood, Sheriff Forbes, and that Damon Salvatore guy."

"Well, that's probably because Salvatore and his little brother happen to be quite dead," Kol hummed.

"As is Sheriff Forbes' daughter Caroline," Klaus chimed in. "Not to mention, her boyfriend Tyler Lockwood - my oh-so-lucky first hybrid."

You coughed, nearly choking on your Pop Tart as you glanced between them, wide-eyed.

Kol frowned. "Did you not know that?"

"I did not," You admitted slowly. "But you know what? That makes a lot of sense, actually." You shook your head, getting back on track. "Anyway, the rest of the council has decided that the Mayor's methods are far too passive. So they're taking things into their own hands. Again, that's all I know; y'all are welcome for the warning."

Klaus folded his arms over his chest, nodding. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Kol tense. He wasn't about to let you be hurt.

"Let's say you are telling the truth, love," The hybrid began, sounding rather ominous. "What then, pray tell, are you doing here?"

You huffed a bitter laugh and Klaus' dangerous smirk dropped just a little.

"Well, if forty-seven texts, twenty-two calls, and three Emails are anything to go by, then I'm getting myself disowned," You said with a fake smile.

"Why?" He wondered, brows furrowing into an expression both curious and suspicious.

"Because metaphorically speaking, my parents are Death Eaters and I just slept with a muggle." It hurt a lot less when you were making fun of it.

It seemed Elijah was the only one to get your joke. He snickered and his brothers looked to him for an explanation.

"It's from a book series called Harry Potter. The Death Eaters in the story are blood supremacists and Muggles are the group they discriminate against," He said.

The other two nodded in vague understanding and you reminded yourself to introduce Kol to Harry Potter.

You waved a hand. "It's less funny when you explain it." Hopping up from your chair, you approached Klaus. Kol flinched, looking about ready to tackle his brother should the hybrid try anything. "Anyway, you built this place right? You said it's your house?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes..."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. It wasn't as if you had many other options.

"Would it be too much if I asked to stay here for a while? Just a couple days - maybe a week? I'd never typically ask this of anyone but, um..." Your voice broke off as your throat closed around the words you'd been about to speak. They died on your tongue, so you shoved your phone into his hands instead, offering him a view of your parents' latest message.

His eyes skimmed over it and the expression he wore softened just slightly.

You knew what the text said.

"Your accounts have been frozen and we've terminated your scholarship. If you want to act like a purposeless whore, then you can live like one. Don't. Come. Back."

Tears welled in your eyes without your permission. You knew your parents had run out of love for you, but this? This was one step further.

This was active hatred.

Klaus frowned, glancing between you and Kol as if trying to figure something out. Just a few feet away, Kol looked like he wanted to grab you and run.

"I just don't know where else to go," You whispered, bowing your head. "A-and I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm not safe now that I've told you this. You just... you don't understand what they're willing to do. I don't even think I could explain how much they hate you! This town is cursed along with everyone in it." You were rambling but you lost your ability to care about that as the horror of your situation truly dawned on you for the first time. "You guys don't know. You don't know what they said - what they're capable of. You don't know what they told me to do!"

Kol took a step toward you and Klaus crossed his arms over his chest. Behind him, Elijah's eyes narrowed. Their expressions belied varying levels of concern.

"Darling?" Kol spoke up cautiously. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you need to tell me?"

You blinked quickly, snapping out of your panic. You'd said too much and you had to bite down on your tongue to keep the rest of it inside. You wanted to tell him, you really did. You'd wanted to tell him this exact thing the night before, but you'd deflected then too. You needed to do this, but-

"I can't."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"If I tell you, you'll kill them all."

The three brothers glanced at one another. When Kol spoke, he did so slowly - as if it pained him.

"Darling, listen. If you tell me, I'll not act without your explicit permission," He said. "Alright?"

Kol was safe. You could trust him. He wasn't going to hurt you.

You drew in a breath that rattled your lungs as you rapidly blinked tears from your eyes. You looked at your feet, ashamed, though you knew logically that none of this was your fault.

"The Council is sick with hatred," You began, trying to keep your voice even. "It's like a disease and it's infected all of them. People I thought I knew - my own parents - they want me to be a weapon."

Kol, of course, already knew that but you explained for the other two. Klaus stiffened but Elijah reached out and laid a hand on his arm. You continued, wringing your hands.

"One of them - I think it was Carter Hamilton's wife - she found out I was seeing Kol."

No matter how desperately you wanted to, you just couldn't bring yourself to look at him. It wasn't his fault but you couldn't stand to think of him the way they did - like a wild animal that couldn't control its urges.

"She-she found out, and she brought it up at one of the meetings. She talked to my parents about it - not even to me - like I wasn't even there. She said - she suggested that they stop giving me vervain." Your voice caught and the words felt like glass to try and swallow. Suddenly you felt like you weren't getting enough oxygen - the air in the kitchen felt thin.

"She thought that if... if I could, um... w-well, if I could get him to... " You breathed in and out. In and out.

"She said that if I could get Kol to-to... feed... on me just, um, just a few times without vervain, then maybe they could slip enough of it to me one day to catch him off guard. They thought that maybe if they could... They wanted to use me to weaken you, Kol... and then, um, then maybe decapitation might kill you."

"And say you had been seriously injured in such an ill-conceived attempt on my brother's life," Elijah proposed in a tone of measured neutrality. He stood hardly a few feet from you but his voice sounded strangely indistinct - almost far away. "Did any member of the council propose a feasible method for ensuring your survival?"

You shook your head, eyes stinging with unshed tears you should have felt safe enough to cry earlier.

"No," You answered, voice thinning further, poised to snap. Your whole body was trembling. "They didn't think it was important enough. Hamilton's wife said my only purpose was to make Kol weak, and that I needed to do whatever it took to do that." You sucked in a breath through your teeth clenched like a vice. If you relaxed a single muscle, you were sure you'd fall apart.

"The rest of the council agreed with her."

Finally, you mustered the courage to lift your gaze, meeting his warm chocolate eyes. Kol looked like he was gonna be sick. His hands were clenched into fists but there was more than just rage in his countenance. There was disgust and not only for the Council. No, there was guilt there too. Disgust and guilt for what he'd very nearly done hardly a few minutes before.

Upon meeting his eyes, your stomach twisted with shame for ever having associated with those people. You didn't feel or think the things they did. Kol had never been a monster to you, he'd never done anything to hurt you. So revealing what you'd been told to do wrought a foul, nauseating guilt boiling under your lungs like you'd never felt before. The more you let yourself think about it, the more deeply you realized how twisted and cruel the Council's plan for you truly was.

Intentionally encouraging Kol to indulge his curse on you? Allowing hateful people he'd not harmed in any way, to take advantage of his weaknesses in order to kill him for something he couldn't change? It was sick!

It was all so sick and your parents had been among those telling you to do it.

All you could feel was shame and hurt and you yearned to just run away from it all and hide so you wouldn't have to face him. But no. No, you had to look him in the eye now. Kol deserved to know why you'd been so terrified of him for so long. His arms were the only safe place for you now and he deserved to know why. He deserved to know everything.

And you weren't even to the worst part yet.

"They told me not to fight you," You whispered. "They said that if you - no, um, they said when - when you bit me, that I should let you. They, um, they told me to let you do anything you wanted... even if-if it h-hurt me. They said I should let you feed as much as you wanted, even if I passed out because otherwise it would ruin the plan. They told me that if I died then it was okay because I'd be dying for their stupid, miserable Cause." You spat the last words out with more venom than you'd ever spoken anything. You closed your eyes and let the tears in your eyes slip down your cheeks. You'd held them in long enough.

Before you had another moment to think, you found yourself caught up in a pair of arms. His were the only pair you'd ever really had - the only ones you could rely on. You buried yourself in them, safe from the world - safe from the Council. Kol's soft voice murmured soothing words in your ear in a language you didn't understand, while his fingers ran themselves skillfully through your hair and he just let you cry.

"They were supposed to protect me!" You sobbed into his shirt. The pain of all these thoughts you'd avoided processing crashed down on you now. So you clung to him. "They promised to keep me safe! They said I'd never have to fight - that it would never come to that! But they lied! They lied to me, Kol! They lied to me and they told me to die!" That was what they'd really told you to do, you realized. "They told me to kill myself!"

You hated them.

The boy holding you froze. He pulled away just a fraction of an inch, absorbing your revelation like a bullet to the gut. Perhaps he wanted to say something - perhaps he wanted to demand why you hadn't told him this earlier - but you didn't care to look at him. You just shook your head, fisting his shirt, and let him take the pain you could bear no longer.

His arms were around you again a second later, cradling you as close as he possibly could. Kol held onto you with the same determined ardor as he had just last night. He held you like he wouldn't let you go for the whole world - like it wouldn't mean anything without you. He held you as if he would fall to pieces if he loosed his grip but a fraction. The space between his arms was reserved just for you. Entirely yours. Safe.

Once he felt that he'd held you long enough to speak, his voice was a myriad of emotions that all lent themselves to just one feeling. It was a three-word feeling that he wasn't willing to say out loud just yet, but it was there. You could feel it too. It had been there when you'd woken up with him that morning, though you weren't ready to say it either.

"You listen to me, darling, and you listen well." Kol spoke in a growl so low you wouldn't have heard it had his lips not been at your ear. He held you tight and close. "Forget everything that Council ever told you. Forget it, right now! Because you are not their pawn to be sacrificed. You are mine. Understand that? You're mine, and I am never going to hurt you. Never. I promise."

And you knew that boy didn't promise things lightly.

"I don't wanna be like them," You whispered.

"You're not," He affirmed. "You are nothing like they are."

You sighed, and the shards of glass in your lungs seemed to fall out. They'd been there so long you'd almost forgotten what it was like to breathe easy.

"Do me a favor?"

"Yes. Of course, name it," He readily replied, grasping handfuls of your clothes and hair. "Tell me how to make it better?"

"Don't kill them?" He stiffened. "Please?"

Kol snarled, hugging you closer. "I don't know if I can promise that bit."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck to return the hug properly. "You don't have to promise. Just say you'll try?"

Kol cursed.

"I don't think you quite understand the weight of what you're asking, sweet-thing." He almost sang those words and the speed at which his tone flipped should have terrified you.

"Maybe not." You shrugged. Kol was a one thousand year old being for goodness sakes. You couldn't expect him to change on a dime. "But I'm asking."

"They don't deserve forgiveness," He spat.

"This isn't forgiveness," You maintained. "It's spite."

That was all it had ever been. All you really had from the beginning.

"Well, as delightful as this has been, I really don't think I'm up for watching the two of you explore one another for the next few hours." Klaus' voice spoke up from behind you and your face flushed. You'd forgotten he was still there. "So before I take my leave, I'd just like to say that I have no objections to you staying here, Y/N. Consider yourself an honored guest in this house as long as you may have need of it."

Kol refused to let go of you, but you turned within his arms to face his brother. Behind you, the boy took to nuzzling at your neck.

"You don't think I'm playing you?"

Klaus sighed and there was something very heavy in it. "There are things one cannot fake, love." The smile he proffered was thin but sincere. "Besides, if you can keep Kol in a good mood then you're more than worth the trouble. Stay as long as you like. Hell, move in if you want to! My little brother needs a decent babysitter."

"Shut up, Nik," The boy grumbled into your throat.

You returned his brother's fragile smile. "Thanks."

He bowed his head to you and left. Elijah moved to follow but he stopped at the door.

"Might there be anything else you need, young one? After all, I believe we were the ones to push you into this unfortunate situation," He said. Those words held an awful lot of regret.

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't turn them into animals - they did that all on their own," You replied somewhat tiredly. "Though, now that you mention it, do you think you could spare a little time to help me get my belongings back? I'm kind of attached to my bean-bag chair."

Elijah cracked a smile. "Certainly."

Kol sighed. "I don't know, darling," He hummed with a tone like a knife edge. "If I go near that house again, I might have to confront the owners of said dwelling and tear them limb from limb."

His words should have scared you. But they didn't.

You hummed. "Do you think you could settle for scaring them out of their wits?"

***

When you arrived at the door to your parent's house, Kol was clinging to you like an oversized koala. That is if a koala could exude thoughts of sweet, sweet arson and murder from its very being in thick, tangible, waves. He didn't seem intent on letting go of you any time soon so you figured you'd just deal with it. Elijah, on the other hand, was fixing his cufflinks in a way that somehow came off as threatening though you weren't going to question it.

You rang the doorbell.

The door was answered by a shotgun. You went a little cross-eyed looking at it.

"We're back to this again are we?" You could hear the smirk in Kol's voice and you just grinned.

"Hi, dad!" You greeted cheerfully. You had already done all the crying you were going to do. You refused to let that man hurt you anymore.

"Get off my property!" He barked. "You're not welcome here! Any of you!"

Who exactly did he think he was talking to?

"Yeah, well we're coming in anyway." You shrugged. "My new room's missing some things."

"Right," He scoffed. "And how do you expect to get them without the original freaks? They can't get past the threshold without my saying so, and you don't live here anymore."

You hummed nodding. "Nice try, but you couldn't possibly have changed my records that quickly." You ducked under your father's gun - which Kol quickly snatched before proceeding to bend into a knot - then stepped through the door. Your mother stood a few feet inside.

She shook her head, frantic. "Don't do this, Y/N/N," She begged. "Please don't do this?"

You met her eyes. "Feel free to come in, guys," You said evenly. "Make yourselves at home."

In a split second, Kol had wrapped himself around you again, grinning wide and sharp.

Your mother scurried back, cowering against the far wall. Sure, you could have rubbed it in further, but it just didn't seem worth it.

"Elijah?"

"Yes?" He responded. He didn't break his little staring contest with your father but he did tilt his chin in your direction.

"I don't know if the vervain gas is hidden here, but by all means, poke around."

Your father's eyes could not have contained more rage.

"You told them?!" He demanded in disbelief. You just shrugged. You failed to see how he could be surprised, after the way he'd treated you. The man's lips peeled back and spittle flew from between his clenched teeth. Who was the animal here? "Why you miserable, pathetic, ungrateful, little wh-"

He didn't have time to finish that sentence because Kol had him suspended in the air by his throat. Your father coughed and gagged, writhing in midair.

"What? Not going to finish?" Kol taunted. He was enjoying this quite a lot. "Can I break him, darling?" He asked, not looking back at you.

You sighed. "Kol, we talked about this."

"Come now, he asked for it," The dark-haired boy insisted. "Just a little? I can even put him back together if you want! Who knows? Maybe a little bit of vampire blood in his system will make him less of a brute!"

At the mention of vampire blood, your father let out a strangled scream. He kicked and struggled more violently.

"No!" Your mother cried, moving as if to somehow aid her husband. Kol stopped her with a single finger jabbed in her direction.

"Ah! Did I ask for your opinion?" He shifted his gaze to her and she faltered beneath the weight of it. All objections died in her throat and even you could have sworn you felt the temperature in the room drop with that chilling glare. His next words were soft as death by hypothermia - far too pleasant to be comforting. "Your fate may lay in your daughter's hands, but I wouldn't test me if I were you."

You glanced back up at your father, still fighting and spitting in your direction.

"You know what? Have your fun, just don't go overboard. I'll be in my room." You flicked your hand in a wave and tried not to pay attention to the twist of guilt in your stomach as Kol's grin turned positively gleeful. You just turned and made your way to your room.

To your surprise, the screams didn't last very long. They died down after only about five to ten minutes and by that time, you hadn't even decided what to pack up first.

"Well, that's one thing taken care of," Kol announced as he waltzed into your room, seeming as content as he'd been when you'd woken up with him.

"Thanks," You said softly.

"Oh, it was my genuine pleasure."

You rolled your eyes. "I meant for holding back," You said. "You did hold back, right?"

The boy flopped down on your bed, fixing you with an adorable expression you couldn't seem to incite anger from, despite knowing what was behind it. "In my opinion? Absolutely, all things considered."

"What did you do?" You honestly weren't sure if you wanted to know the answer to that.

He shrugged. "Let's just say your father has a brand new tattoo he never wanted. I'd say go take a look, but it's going to take a while to really show up. That is, as long as he receives some stitches for it within the next hour and forty-five minutes."

You raised a brow. "Is that a fancy way of saying you gave him a big-ass scar?"

"Yeah, but it sounds less fun when you say it like that!" He said dismissively, waving a hand. "What we really should have done is gotten Nik over here. He's the artistic one - could have made it fancy - perhaps drawn a hog or something to go with..."

You rolled your eyes, trying to push away the part of you that was currently bombarding you with memories of a time when your parents loved you. Though the more that you thought about it, the more you realized those memories were really just of parents that didn't openly despise you.

"Kol?" You called his name softly and he was sitting by your side in a heartbeat. "This doesn't make me bad, does it?"

That dark-haired boy took your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles as he urged you to meet his milk-chocolate eyes.

"No. This doesn't make you bad," He said. "You didn't do anything today - I did."

"But I let you... wanted you to," You insisted. "What does that make me?"

"It makes you free, darling." He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against the back of it. "Don't be sad. It's alright to just enjoy it." A smile tugged at his lips and he pulled you to your feet. "Come now, I'll help you get all this stored and we'll be done in time for lunch. You can teach me another one of your Christmas songs while you're at it."

***

December drew to a close without any major incidents and January passed by much the same, with you and Kol living out something of a crooked fairytale. While you'd originally planned to stay with the Mikaelsons only as long as you needed to find yourself an apartment, that notion was quickly tossed out the window. Kol just kept complaining that an apartment would be nothing more than a waste of time and money, seeing as you spent most of your nights in his bedroom anyway, despite having one of your own.

He wasn't wrong.

Halfway through January, you sued the ever-loving hell out of your parents, pursuing it all the way to the state level where you finally managed to get your savings and checking accounts back. With that money, you figured you would enroll in the spring semester of your chosen college with Kol along for the ride. (He needed to catch up on recent history anyway, so it worked out.)

By February, things were going pretty well and you'd even started getting back into your old hobbies.

Alright, so it was less of a hobby and more of a side gig. Despite your raging phobia of performing in front of an audience, you'd gone and joined a band in your sophomore year. You were the band's percussionist and sure, it was by no means professional, but you got actual gigs at the Grill every Wednesday night and made some decent cash. It was fun and you loved it, no matter what anyone said about it being a waste of time or unladylike.

Now, you hadn't played since the Original Family came to town, but for the past few weeks, you'd been coming back. Wednesday nights you got to do what you loved, free of fear or judgment. Not even Kol was here to watch, you reassured yourself as you sat down at your drum set and tied a familiar gray blindfold over your eyes.

Not that he would judge you, of course. You just weren't sure you were ready to share one more part of yourself with that boy. Music was the part of you that made you happiest and it had always belonged solely to you.

You fixed your blindfold and picked up your drumsticks to tell Rory - the head singer and guitarist - that you were ready. Everyone outside the band thought the blindfold was just your gimmick but really you just couldn't perform without it. The sight of any crowd drove your stage fright berserk, oftentimes making you sick.

But hey, if everyone wanted to see it as a gimmick, then more power to them. At least it went with the band name.

"Please welcome Mystic Falls's own, Daredevil Squad!"

Wow. Good ole' Matt Donovan really needed to work on his introduction voice, but that was neither here nor there. With those words, your thinking time was over. Rory gave the cue and you counted the rest in. Then, you had fun.

You played for a solid two hours which is a lot harder than it sounds. You were glad Rory had picked some really good songs for the performance, though House of the Rising Sun was definitely your favorite. You didn't sing much, just hummed in the background mostly, but that was why you played percussion - it was the beat you were in love with. More often than not, you could almost swear the drums had a mind of their own and you were just along for the ride.

Once you were finished, you tugged the blindfold off and made a beeline for the bar. You were going to die of thirst if you didn't get a glass of water right away. In your haste, you failed to take note of your surroundings or more specifically, the people in them.

"You know, I was beginning to wonder where it is you run off to every Wednesday night," A very familiar voice purred next to your ear.

You jumped and whirled around to find Kol grinning down at you, whiskey in hand. You must have flushed bright red because that cheeky grin of his grew wider.

"Kol? What-what are you doing here?" You sputtered. What were you supposed to say?

"Well, I came here intending to dull the monotony of your absence with alcohol, but I find myself pleasantly surprised," He answered, tossing you a wink.

"I... didn't know you were going to be here," You said, somewhat apologetic. It wasn't as though you could expect him to like your music. After all, no one else ever had.

His expression softened and he put his drink down, drawing you into a hug. "Relax, darling. No need to get uptight," He reassured. "You were amazing and I loved watching you."

You smiled. "Really?"

"Absolutely. I only wish you'd told me earlier." He squeezed your shoulder, smiling easily. That boy always knew how to calm your nerves. "But hey, as long as we're both here, why don't you join me for a few drinks?" He offered. At that moment, the bartender passed you your water and you snatched it from the counter, downing the whole thing in just a few seconds. Kol blinked. "Or not..."

"Sorry!" You giggled. "I gotta go put my instrument away real quick. But I'll come back, okay?"

"Sounds excellent, love," He agreed.

"Awesome." You tapped your fingers against the bar top a few times before swinging around and making your way to the Grill's tiny excuse for a backstage area. Kol watched you go up until the door swung shut behind you.

As soon as it had, you were plunged into darkness. Though it was only for a few seconds as you reached for the light switch, that was long enough. Someone lunged from behind one of the extra speakers and a cloth was shoved over your mouth and nose. You knew better than to breathe it in, but your attacker wasn't alone. A second assailant grabbed hold of your arms and locked a pair of handcuffs around your wrists with trained precision. You tried to scream for help and it was shortly after that when everything went black.

***

Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes knew what desperation looked like. Having been in this job as long as she had, Liz liked to think she'd seen just about every form a desperate soul could take.

Fate proved her wrong when Kol Mikaelson appeared in the doorway of her office. Somewhere amidst the limb-freezing, mind-numbing existential terror that shot through her veins at the sight of him, Liz recognized that he did not look well.

His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, contrasting starkly with pale skin and dark, matted hair. He stood there, tall and proud despite it all and Liz was reminded of her daughter. Sweet little Caroline - the girl who ran herself ragged over everything. Well, Kol hardly seemed like the type to do so. Therefore, Liz figured that whatever was going on was bound to be serious.

The ancient predator strolled leisurely into the small office space and draped himself over the rickety old chair opposite Liz's desk. His eyes closed for only a moment, as though it were a relief to sit down. Seeming to her like a Jaguar lounging on a tree branch, he leveled a pair of infinitely incomprehensible eyes on her and she resisted the urge to shrink under the weight of his hard gaze.

Instead, she cleared her throat, tipping her head in his direction. "Good afternoon," She greeted. His head tilted to the side. He didn't return her pleasantries. "So to what do I owe this visit?"

This terrible being raised a brow. "You are the head of this dismal town's law enforcement, are you not?" He began, unimpressed.

Liz blinked, unsure how to reply. "Well... yes."

"And theft is still an act declared by your country's laws to be immoral, is it not?"

She nodded slowly. "Since last I checked."

The predator's eyes narrowed. "Then I do believe I'm here to requisite your expertise, Miss. Elizabeth." Each word was sharper than a surgical knife.

She bristled at her name on his lips. "It's Sheriff Forbes."

"Liz." He grinned - a flash of white teeth and flecks of red. Kol Mikaelson leaned forward, she could smell decay on his breath. "Something has been stolen from me, Lizzie - something very important and I want it back."

This thing in front of her was nothing like the vampire Liz carefully liked to consider her friend. Damon Salvatore gave off an erratic and often dangerous aura, but underneath that, there was a begrudging kindness and an even more begrudging sense of empathy. Kol Mikaelson was a different story. He radiated power in every idle movement, the kind of power that made Damon's worst day seem like a teenager with a spitball gun. Everything about him was effortless and yet very deliberate. With young, innocent features and a voice so smooth and pleasant she had to fight to keep herself from being lulled into a hypnotic trance, it was like he could compel her without even trying - vervain or no.

"You can't find whatever is missing on your own?" She asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Kol snarled. Liz had seen mountain lions bear their teeth - the sight looked a little something like that. "Do you really think I would be here if that were the case?"

"I suppose not." She exhaled evenly. "Mr. Mikaelson-"

"Kol." His lips twitched up. "I'm not my stuffy brother, first names will do nicely."

Liz clenched her fists beneath her desk.

"Kol," She amended. "I'm afraid I won't be able to help you if this is a matter of an... exotic variety." The walls of the Sheriff's office were by no means sound proof and not everyone on the force was in on the secret.

"Not to worry, Lizzie. The perpetrators of this crime are all perfectly ordinary." His pleasant smile was definitely forced.

Kol did not like that.

What human in their right mind would be shit-faced stupid enough to steal from an original vampire? Liz figured her extraordinary client probably wondered the same thing.

"I see." Sheriff Forbes retrieved a notebook from her desk drawer and picked up her pen. Perhaps she could ease her nerves in the routine that was this part of her job. She took down his name and beneath it wrote theft. "How long ago was the object taken?" She asked.

"Person," He corrected casually.

"Come again?"

"Not object - person," Kol repeated. "She was taken four days ago."

Liz closed her eyes and sighed. "So you're saying this was a kidnapping?"

"Yes."

"Then why not just say that?" She huffed.

Kol shrugged. "I don't particularly see a difference."

Liz had to resist the temptation to roll her eyes. She scratched out theft and wrote kidnapping next to the date he'd described. "Victim's last name?" She prompted.

"Y/L/N."

She stilled, hoping she was wrong. "First name?"

"I think you know."

Liz looked up and found herself staring into the abyss. The true faces of the vampires she'd seen starred in some of her worst nightmares, but it was a phenomenon she'd only ever caught in brief glimpses. She had never been so close to it nor seen those chilling black eyes on an expression so calm. Although, Kol's grip on that armrest looked pretty violent.

The Sheriff swallowed thickly. "Do you... Do you know for sure who's taken her?"

"I have a pretty good idea," He hissed, deadly fangs on full display. "Tell me where your precious Council took her."

Liz Forbes laid a hand to her gun and spoke calmly. "Kol, I had nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I know that." He leaned back. Another flash of teeth. "Hence, why you're not dead. Tell me what you do know, and you'll remain as such."

She didn't trust him to keep his word but to disobey the request would be suicide. "I don't know where they are, I can only tell you where they might be," Liz said. He waited. "If I had to guess, the old celler under Town Hall would be the first place I'd look. Nobody goes down there and the door's got a trick lock. It's not strong enough to hold a-" She caught herself. "-someone with a little extra punch, but I think it would serve to hold your average high school graduate."

The monster in a young boy's skin nodded sharply and stood. He didn't offer a word of gratitude as he moved to the door.

Sheriff Forbes stood. "Kol?"

He stopped, though he didn't turn back.

"Don't ask me to spare them," He growled. She hadn't noticed it before, but every muscle in his body was tense. His hands were shaking.

"I wasn't." No, she valued her life far too much to do that.

"Then what?" The monster snapped, impatient.

Liz couldn't pretend to understand what the missing girl saw in him, but there was something beneath that inhumane exterior. Perhaps she'd caught a glimpse of it in that ragged desperation she'd seen when he walked through her door - the sort of anger she'd just witnessed doesn't come about without first stemming from some sort of tenderness.

"I was just gonna warn you to expect an ambush," Sheriff Forbes sighed. "It appears some of my deputies think themselves above answering to the law."

Kol Mikaelson hummed and turned back to her with the most horrifying smirk she'd ever seen. "Rest assured, Miss. Forbes... They will answer to me."

***

Four days.

You had been down there for four days.

No food.

No sunlight.

Only a few sips of water each day.

You were so cold. Temperatures in the cellar dropped below freezing at night and weren't much better during the day - you knew because your only entertainment while trapped in this nightmare had been watching the same puddle of water on the ground freeze and thaw over and over. More than once you'd thought you would freeze with it - that you would fall asleep, feeling as warm as the Little Match Girl, and never wake up. The air down there was wet and smelled of mildew. Pneumonia seemed a guarantee in your future.

You were so cold, and tired.

How could you sleep in this frigid prison? You were handcuffed to a steel chair, for crying out loud! Your tailbone and thighs were so sore you didn't think you would ever be able to sit down again, and your wrists were so raw from the edges of the cuffs that every time you shifted, the metal drew blood. One wrong move and you could slit your wrists. Not to mention your kidnappers had done you the favor of forcing a gag into your mouth and it had dried your tongue and throat beyond belief. Trying to swallow felt like eating sandpaper with a side of mulch. How could you sleep like that? Both the cuffs and the chair, you recognized. They were from the police station. Sheriff Forbes couldn't have been in on this - that you were sure of. But it seemed that protecting the innocent wasn't what the rest of your hometown's police force was committed to. How could you sleep knowing the town you'd grown up in had turned its back on you?

You were so cold, tired, and hungry.

The last thing you'd eaten was a plate of the Grill's soggy nachos. As far as last meals go, that seemed like a pretty pathetic one to go out on. Sometimes you thought you could still taste the cheese but you were pretty sure you were hallucinating it. Can one's taste buds have hallucinations? You didn't know and you didn't really care. You were so hungry you'd knowingly have eaten poison if it were offered to you. If this were anything like how Kol felt on a daily basis, you couldn't blame him for giving in to temptation. You only wished you could turn off the pain as he could.

You were so cold, and tired, and hungry. And terrified out of your mind.

You'd probably dreamt of Kol coming to rescue you a thousand times, all without ever falling asleep. Yet, every time you opened your eyes, he wasn't there and you were alone. Completely alone. But he would come. You believed that. You had to believe that.

So when the gate to your prison opened and Council members started streaming through, armed with a semi-auto each, you knew you might finally be getting out of there. The iron door dragged on hinges that screeched loud enough to tear holes in your eardrums after four days of nothing but your own hysterics for auditory stimulus and the dim light of the hallway bleached your retinas having spent all that time in the dark.

"The plan's in motion," Oliver Fell-blanc said as he descended the steps, carrying a fireman's axe in his hands. He was Meredith Fell's cousin and the last one to arrive. "It's coming for her."

You nearly cried tears of joy when you heard those words. You probably would've had you been entirely convinced that this was real. None of your other fantasies had begun this way, but that didn't mean much at this point.

"How long do we have?" That sounded like Carter Hamilton's wife. You couldn't remember her name.

"I'd say about three minutes," Oliver answered. You remembered a time when the most nefarious thing that guy would do was commandeer the music at the Lockwood parties. He'd been the one to kidnap you. "If anyone here isn't committed to doing what needs to be done, this is your last chance to chicken out."

"You're sure these bullets can keep it down long enough for you to chop off the head?" Another man asked. That was Wyatt Maxwell. He used to babysit you and your brother when he was in high school. He always read bedtime stories to you and let you have two desserts on Friday nights. You hardly recognized him now. What had become of these people?

"They're laced with vervain. It'll stop the wounds from healing," Hamilton's wife stated confidently.

"Yeah, but will it be enough?" Wyatt pressed.

"Probably." Oliver grinned darkly. "But if it's not, we can always fill that thing with enough holes to make swiss cheese jealous."

The others laughed at that and something inside you shriveled.

"What you should really be worried about is whether Ollie is actually strong enough to swing that axe," Carter Hamilton added, smirking.

"Oh, I'm strong enough, old man." Oliver laughed. "I'm just disappointed I won't be able to hang that creature's head on my wall once this is over with. Hey, wait! Maybe I can pull it out around Halloween! Bet it would scare the pants off some kids!"

"Do whatever you want, man. Hell - use it as a paper weight for all I care. Just as long as you keep it far, far away from the body and me," Wyatt huffed.

So this was why you were here. Their plan for you hadn't changed, you realized. They had just changed your role in it. This was a trap and you were the bait.

Tears welled in your eyes and you clenched your teeth, biting down even harder on the gag in your mouth. You wanted to scream and cry and throw something at this disgusting man, but you were so tired and weak and your throat felt like a desert.

"You bastards," You rasped through the gag. "You're all hateful bastards!"

It mostly just sounded like a series of muffled coughs, but it was enough to draw their attention. The friendly expressions on the faces of the council melted away as they turned their focus on you. There were sixteen of them in total. Sixteen council members, fifteen guns, fifteen rounds per gun. You did the math. They had two hundred and twenty-five vervain-laced bullets. How many could Kol take and still get back up?

"Awww," Oliver sneered. "Is somebody gonna miss her special leech?"

"Don't you touch him!" You cried. "He hasn't done a thing to you! Don't you touch him!"

"What's that? I can't quite hear you. Can you speak up, sweetheart?" He taunted, putting a hand to his ear.

"I hate you." His mocking expression made you want to strangle him but all you could do was cough. "I hate all of you!"

"Nope, still can't hear her." Oliver shrugged and turned back to the other extremists. "You know, the mayor and Sheriff Forbes think the kids in this town are too young to know the truth. Well, I say different!" He pointed an accusing finger in your direction. "You see what happens when kids aren't taught what's right? I say these kids deserve to know about what they're up against! I think we need to make it clear to them what they can and cannot do in this town, and I say we start by making this one an example! This is what you get when you sleep with a bloodsucker!"

The others cheered for his little speech and you couldn't help fearing for your sweet little brother. What would become of him if they got their way? Oliver turned back to you, scowling as he knelt down by your side. You flinched away from him but he snatched a handful of your hair and forced your gaze into the direction of the door.

"You know, sweetheart, you're gonna be that last thing that bloodsucker sees after it walks through that door." He said. "You always did lack conviction, but I'm sure it's gonna suck to live knowing that what happens here today was entirely your fault. I just hope it teaches you better than to be a miserable, kinky, whore."

He kicked your chair and ordered the extremists to take up their positions around the room, calling for total silence. Their heartbeats would be covered by the racket made by the old A/C unit upstairs and they spread out so Kol wouldn't be able to take them all out at once.

All you could do was sit there and curse your ancestors.

It wasn't after too much longer, that you heard footsteps on their way down to the basement. You heard Kol's voice calling your name.

You took a breath.

"Don't come down here!" You screamed as loud as you could. You tried to speak from the back of your throat so the words wouldn't be as muffled through the gag, though you didn't think it did much. "Don't come down here! It's a trap! They have guns! Don't come down!"

Kol didn't listen.

He appeared in the doorway with a relieved smile and started towards you.

"Watch out!"

The Council members opened fire. Fifteen sets of gunshots rang out all at once, echoing around the cavernous stone space and through your brain. It was so loud, too loud. Warmth pooled in your ears and you felt them begin to bleed. Gunshots kept going off but the sounds grew dimmer and dimmer, further and further away. But you weren't concerned about yourself.

Most of the bullets found their mark. Some hit Kol in the chest, others in the stomach, shoulders, and back. He stumbled backward and you watched more than heard him gasp in pain. His eyes were wide as the gunshots finally stopped. He looked down at his chest, almost confused, and then back up to you. The boy coughed and blood spilled from between his lips. Then he fell to his knees, swayed, and collapsed sideways onto the ground.

You screamed again.

Someone asked a question but it was drowned by the ringing in your ears. Another voice shouted something.

Oliver stepped forward, axe in hand, grinning like a maniac. He raised the weapon over his head and you couldn't bear to watch. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Blood, hot and thick, sprayed across your face.

This time, you didn't scream.

But everyone else in the room did.

Your eyes snapped open and in front of you stood Kol; he was holding Oliver's axe. Beside him, sprawled on the polished marble floor, was Oliver's headless corpse. The missing part rolled across the floor to your right. When it came to a stop, its inanimate eyes were wide open. They landed on you.

You shrieked.

After all, you'd seen death before in photos. But this was all too real.

"Hey. Hey!" The words were muffled and dull. "Y/N, look at me! Look at me, darling." You couldn't tear your eyes away from the disembodied head. A gentle hand touched your cheek, guiding you to look into a pair of chocolate eyes. "There. That's it, see? You're alright, Y/N/N. It's alright. This will all be over soon," Kol promised.

On your left, Wyatt raised his gun again. Kol scowled and turned away from you. He spoke, but you couldn't quite pick out what was said as he twirled the axe around and around his hand. The boy shrugged once. Then, moving in a blur, he stood beside Wyatt - axe raised to his throat.

"I SAID DROP THEM!" He roared.

The council members all dropped their guns. In the next second, Kol had swept around the room and gathered all the cast-off weapons before reappearing at the top of the stairs where he left them. He strolled back into the room and pulled the iron door shut with a bang. You watched him weave the steel handle of the fireman's axe through the bars in the door before bending it around the lock.

No one was getting out of this room without his say-so.

Kol returned to you and knelt down, effortlessly snapping the cuffs around your ankles that kept you trapped in that chair, followed by the restraints on your wrists. No longer held against the back of the chair by the cuffs, your body slumped forward, too weak to remain upright. Kol caught you, guiding you down to sit on the floor between his legs with your back leaning against his chest. He tugged the gag from your mouth next, though he didn't bother to untie it completely.

Your ears were ringing and they hurt but Kol was warm and you were a lot more comfortable than you had been. You were so tired, your eyes and limbs felt heavy. Kol would keep you safe. You could fall asleep here.

"No! No, no, darling! Wake up!" He shook you and you groaned. His voice was blurry. You were tired. "Don't go to sleep, love. Not yet! Open your eyes!"

Knowing him, he probably wouldn't leave you alone about it. Probably best to see what he wanted. You forced your eyes open and let your head roll back. Kol's fangs extended and he bit his wrist, then held it out in front of you. That was gross.

You grimaced. "Ew."

"Just drink it," He demanded. You shook your head. "Come on, darling. Please? It'll make you feel better, just drink it."

"No," You groaned. Kol sighed and forced his wrist between your lips anyway. His blood flowed into your mouth and you gaged, squirming in his hold. You thought you'd been desperate enough to swallow anything but apparently, your body still had standards. You whimpered and tried to get away, but the boy's arm around your waist might as well have been a steel bar.

Kol shushed your protests, rocking back and forth in an attempt to comfort you.

"I know, darling. I know you don't want to swallow it, but you have too. It'll make you feel better, I promise. Just swallow it." His voice was sweet and soothing and you were far too tired to fight anymore. You stopped struggling and did as you were told.

Blood, you discovered, tasted just about as nasty as you thought it would. The stuff was hot and thick and it tasted like pennies...

Until it didn't.

You swallowed just a little bit and then a little bit more and suddenly it wasn't so bad. The coppery taste turned sort of sweet, and then very sweet, and then excellent. The pain and ringing in your ears faded and you felt strangely warm.

Kol was talking to you, muttering soft encouragements into your ear. "That's it, yes that's it. That's a good girl. Drink up, my sweet. See, it's not so bad, is it? You're alright now. Just a little more." The pain and sickness faded away. You felt warm, and stronger now - not as strong as you were normally, but strong enough to sit and stand on your own. After a few more moments, Kol pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled his wrist away. You almost made a move to take it back, but he grabbed your hands gently. "Sorry, love. You can have more later, if you still want it, but too much now will make you sick."

You did want more because if anything, you felt more hungry now than you did before and you were more than a little disturbed by that, but you nodded anyway, licking the excess from your lips. "Okay."

"Good," He said. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent. "Can you stay right here for me, sweet-thing? I have to finish this."

You frowned but didn't move. What was he talking about? What was there to finish?

Kol got up and cast his eyes around the room.

"Now, what am I going to do about you lot?" He wondered, lips twisting into a vindictive smirk. He gestured toward you. "She wants me to let all of you live, but I'm afraid I just can't do that. See, I do have a reputation to uphold and it so happens that I've slaughtered entire towns for a lot less than what you've done here. I think you all know the extent of your guilt, but why don't we recap just for fun, eh?" 

"Alright, let's see..." He started counting off on his fingers. 

"You've broken the treaty which you made and signed... plotted against my family... kidnapped the only person in your midst who might have gifted you some mercy... and then you just tried to kill me. I think I'll have to give you a B+ on that last one - not the best or most creative attempt I've seen, though I can give you high marks for enthusiasm." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated movement.

"Unfortunately, that's four strikes against you and the rules clearly say that it's three strikes and you're out."

Kol grinned and you knew you weren't going to like whatever was coming next.

"So, here's what we're going to do. We're going to play a little game."

From inside his jacket pocket, Kol drew forth a pearl-handled pistol. It was intricate - pretty. But that couldn't disguise its true purpose. It was a gun. It was made to kill things.

"I'm assuming you all know what this is?" He said, raising the piece for all sixteen - fifteen - Council members to see. A few of them nodded, eyes flickering with barely concealed horror. Kol watched them and his tongue darted out to wet his lips in a way that belied excitement. He continued. "Now, contained within this... quaint little trinket is exactly one bullet. It's not wooden - just plain old lead - and one of you is going to be the lucky winner who gets to fire it into their skull!"

"No..." Your breath caught in your throat and something in your stomach twisted violently. This was wrong. This was horrid and vile and you felt sick. You shook your head, struggling to stand on legs that hadn't seen use in days. "No. No, no, no. Kol, don't-"

He cut you off with a hum and a finger raised in your direction, his expression grim. He'd never looked at you that way. Anyone else, yes. But never, ever, you. Those eyes sent a blast of liquid nitrogen through your veins. You froze in your tracks. His eyes slid back to the fifteen others.

"Say, where was I again?" He mused, scratching the back of his head with the barrel of that very loaded gun. The boy grinned. "Ah, that's right - suicide. Quite poetic, don't you think? Only fitting for what you've done. Anyway, over the course of the next few minutes, I'm going to eat the rest of you - all but one." Someone screamed - a woman, probably married into this insanity, just going along with her lover's fear. Kol gasped mockingly and turned her with a cruel smirk, stalking closer.

"It'll be a slow, painful, and graphic death, I assure you." He spoke so softly, so soothingly. "You'll die screaming and begging. But-" He paused, drinking in their rapt, horrified attention. "-There is a way out..."

Please, please, please don't do this. Just walk away, you pleaded silently. He didn't stop.

"The bullet in this chamber is your only escape. If you want to die peacefully, painlessly, and instantly... then you're going to have to fight each other for it."

The vampire grinned pleasantly and, with a flick of his wrist, slid the weapon across the marbled floor where it skidded to a stop in the middle of the room.

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

You were shaking. No, no, no... Anything but this.

"Go on then, you savage animals..." Kol entreated, spreading his hands. "Entertain me."

This was wrong. You couldn't just stand here!

"Kol, no!" You rasped. He whipped around, glaring at you with eyes like smoldering ice. This wasn't your friend. You didn't know what he was. "What are you doing?"

He ground his teeth. "Getting retribution, darling," He snarled, lips curling. It was the expression of a predator. "I think it's best you stay quiet and not get involved with this."

You ignored him. "Kol, you can't! This isn't right and you know it!"

"I can do whatever I wish," He snapped. "I've already stayed my hand far too long on your account. It's time the cattle be put back in their place."

His words were shards of glass permeating your heart and you could feel them with every beat.

You clenched your jaw and stood your ground. "So is that all I am to you?"

His expression softened just the slightest fraction - not enough for anyone else to notice, but you knew him. He didn't break your gaze as he drew a deep breath and his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Just... stay still," He ordered. "Please don't test my patience."

"What?" Who the hell did he think he was talking to? "Kol, snap out of this! It's me!"

His hands curled into fists, knuckles white. "You need to stop talking."

"Or what?" You challenged, blinking back the sting of your tears. "You'll hurt me?"

"I don't want to," He said, narrowing his eyes. "But I'm one step short of ravenous at the moment, not to mention royally irritated, and highly likely to do something I'll regret. This is a warning - don't push it."

That wasn't a warning. That was a threat.

You shook your head, lips pressed into a thin line. "I trusted you," You hissed. "I gave up everything for you. How dare you talk to me like that?"

Kol sighed.

Then he was standing directly in front of you. Faster than lightning, his hand shot out and wrapped around the base of your throat. His other hand grasped your hip and then the cool stone wall of the cellar was pressed against your back. You gasped and coughed, reaching up to claw his hand off your airway. He was choking you! You were choking! You were-

Wait...

No, you weren't choking. Kol wasn't hurting you, he was holding your neck. There was no pressure being applied.

You looked up, into his eyes. They weren't cold at all. They were flooded with too many emotions to name, roiling and frothing like a forest of reeds in a windstorm. Blackness ebbed and flowed in them, clashing like well-matched opponents. You recognized them both - the sweet boy you knew, and the monster inside him grappled in front of you, fighting for control. He was fighting. Kol was trying.

You reached up to touch his cheek. "Kol, please?"

For a split second, you caught sight of him. Your Kol - the boy you'd given everything to, the boy you lo-, the one who cared about you - for a moment, he surfaced. He fought off the beast inside him and his eyes, free of bloodlust, met yours with a pleading. Kol's hands shifted. Taking a gentle grasp of your wrists, he pinned them up against the wall behind you. Then he surged forward and captured your mouth with his. Pressing his whole body against yours, he licked at the seam of your lips in a kiss so soft and ardent it could only mean "I'm sorry."

He hesitated to pull away. "Please," He whispered against your lips. "Please don't hate me for this?"

If there was ever a time to admit what you'd been ignoring for months - this was it. If there was ever a time to spit the words that flickered like flames in your chest every time he kissed you - it was now. If there was ever a time to say I love you-

You opened your mouth.

Kol ripped the gag off your neck and, with eyes full of misery, forced it between your lips again, tying it up tight behind your head. Your eyes flew wide and you screamed against the fabric, but he just stepped back. Blackness filled Kol's eyes once more and he turned away from you.

The gun remained on the cold marble floor - pristine and untouched. He gestured toward it, humming.

"No takers then, I see? Funny, I even gave you a head start." He shrugged. "Well, no matter. More for me, I suppose!"

The name of Carter Hamilton's wife, you remembered, was Eliza.

Kol went for her first.

He grabbed her by the hair, twisting, and tore his dagger-like teeth into her slim throat. You shrieked and sobbed against the gag but the monster wouldn't stop. He didn't just bite her - he ripped her flesh apart and he did it right in front of her husband. Eliza's corpse landed in a very lifeless heap when he finally wrenched his teeth from her mutilated neck. You could see her spine amidst the carnage and it was just like those pictures you'd never wanted to see again.

No one in the room moved.

"Little sour that one," He observed, looking Carter in the eyes as he licked his wife's blood from his fingers. "Your turn."

When Kol sank his teeth into his next victim, you screamed again. Tears streamed down your face as, in a state of chilled, suspended horror, you witnessed the other Council members play Kol's game. All twelve of them made a break for the gun on the floor, fighting over it like the savage animals he'd claimed they were. They scrabbled and kicked, scraping at eyes and twisting back limbs as they brutalized one another, seeking a chance to kill themselves.

You couldn't watch.

Curling yourself up against the wall, you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing the stone would just swallow you whole. You could cover your ears but you couldn't block out the screams as Kol feasted.

There was no use in screaming, but you just wanted this butchery to stop. You just wanted the monster under Kol's skin to release the boy you'd fallen for. You just wanted him to come back to you. The boy who'd kissed you so softly mere moments before wasn't - couldn't - be this appalling monster, bathed in red.

But he was.

Your parents hadn't been right about him, but they hadn't been wrong either. He liked the killing and he liked the death and that wasn't going to change just because you let him kiss you. It wasn't his fault. This had been made of him and Kol couldn't change his nature. Yet no matter how hard you wished it, he would never need you more than he needed the slaughter. He wasn't going to change just because you asked.

But you were scared and hungry, and cold, and terrified, so that was all you could really do. Ask. So for each lifeless shell that hit the ground, a slurry of jumbled pleas spewed from your lips.

Thirteen

"Kol, please stop? I wanna go home now," You muttered to yourself, scraping at the stone wall as if you might crawl inside.

Twelve

"I don't wanna be here. I don't wanna see any of this. Kol, please stop? Just stop an-and we can leave? We can run away - we can go anywhere you want. Kol, please?"

Eleven

"Please. Please, just stop? You don't have to. I know you can't help it. If you're hungry, I -I trust you. Please, just let them go?"

Ten

A Gunshot - Nine.

Eight

"Kol, I'm scared. You're scaring me. Please stop, you're scaring me."

Seven

"Kol, you're breaking your promise. You promised me - you said I didn't have to be afraid of you. Please, stop breaking your promise?"

Six

"I love you, Kol. Please stop?"

And, like the flip of a switch, the killing ceased.

You couldn't move - couldn't stop babbling. It was as if every muscle in your body was frozen except for your tongue.

"I love you, Kol Mikaelson," You wept quietly against the gag in your mouth. The words would have been muffled beyond recognition to anyone else, but not to him. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. Please, stop so I can tell you for real?"

The basement was silent for a moment. Then that boy's voice pierced through the low light.

"You love me?" The question was so soft you were sure you'd imagined it.

Your throat felt like sandpaper and you couldn't stop shaking, but perhaps you could pretend like the monster wasn't here, so you nodded anyway, too tired to keep talking through the fabric in your mouth. Footsteps approached slowly and someone knelt down in front of you. It was probably the monster wearing his skin, but you could pretend it wasn't. He reached around your head and untied the knot, lifting the course material away from your face. You gasped, desperate for a real lungful of air as your whole body shook from fear and exhaustion.

"Say that again," He said. It wasn't an order but it wasn't exactly a request either. Your throat felt like sandpaper and you couldn't stop shaking, but you spoke through it.

"I love you Kol Mikaelson."

Kol's breath hitched, though he tried not to let it show. He brushed the back of his fingers along your forearm. His hand was too warm - something like ninety-eight degrees - but at least it wasn't slick with blood. At least he'd tried to wipe it off, which you appreciated even though you flinched away.

He sighed heavily. It sounded broken.

"You really shouldn't," He said eventually.

"I know," You whispered. You shook your head and shrugged haplessly. "I know, but I can't help it."

"Darling..." His voice entreated, warm and soft like honey and silk. "Y/N, can you look at me?"

Regaining your breath, or at least some of it, you shook your head, pushing yourself impossibly closer to the wall. "I miss you."

"I'm right here," He said soothingly. You were grateful he didn't try to touch you again. "Darling, I'm right here."

"You're here, but you're not mine," You replied. "You hate them too much."

He didn't deny it. No, he didn't deny it because he promised he'd never lie to you. His breaths were deep but he couldn't hold onto them for long. Perhaps, his chest - like yours - hurt too much when he tried. "I can't fix this, can I?" He spoke softly though there was still something bitter in it. It was enough to make you flinch again when he rested his hand on your knee, but this time he didn't draw away. You relaxed as much as you could.

"No." You answered. He cursed quietly and traced invisible patterns onto your jeans and his voice sounded like what tornados leave behind - like devastation.

"Have I broken you?"

There. There was the sweet boy you'd fallen in love with. No trace of the monster now. You looked up, studying his face. He should have looked more like a monster. After all, Kol was drenched in crimson - his mouth most especially. Yet, oddly enough, the sight didn't twist your stomach. You supposed you couldn't feel any more ill than you did already, but that wasn't really it.

He hesitated to lift his head - hesitated to meet your gaze, but when he did, you saw longing and sorrow. That boy's eyes simply weren't those of a monster.

A smile, thin as a crumpled note, found its way to your lips. "Yes," You told him. "You've broken me."

But, damn it all - you didn't want it to end like this.

As awful as it was, as twisted as it deemed your soul - you still loved him. It wasn't something you could just turn off. You loved the boy who laughed at your jokes and braided your hair when you asked. You loved the boy who took you to mountain tops for coffee and twirled you around the living room for absolutely no reason at all. You adored the boy who watched classic movies with you, even though he always ended up watching your face instead of the screen. You cherished the boy who bought you ice cream when you were sad and took you on late-night walks when you couldn't sleep - who told you stories when you didn't want to. You loved the boy who kissed and held you so gently every night because he cared enough to do so.

Now, here that boy knelt in front of you, having massacred people you'd known all your life, yet still, you could not hate him. It wasn't his fault he'd been made into this. So, perhaps it made you downright evil, but you could love a bloodthirsty monster if it meant keeping the rest of him.

After all, this just wasn't his fault.

And you realized then, that it wasn't yours either. It couldn't be, because you hadn't done anything wrong. Refusing to hate or hunt the supernatural wasn't wrong. Choosing the life you wanted wasn't wrong. Agreeing to go on a date with Kol - falling in love with him despite it all - none of that was wrong!

Yet, every single human in that damp, frigid seller had chosen to be there. You had done nothing wrong, and yet they still chose to hurt you. They had no excuse - no curse inflicting a hunger they couldn't control. They were just bad, hateful people who had no real reason to be that way.

That made each one of them more vile a monster than Kol could ever be.

Kol bowed his head, hiding his face from you but his shoulders shook. You didn't want it to end this way.

You placed your hand over the one he'd rested on your knee and guided him to move it higher, onto your thigh. Kol froze and lifted his head, eyeing you with curiosity far too weary to be labeled as hope.

"You've broken me," You repeated. Your chest didn't hurt when you drew in another breath. You felt certain of this somehow. "But I still love you... and I think that maybe sometimes we need to break things to make sure we fixed all the cracks."

Kol's eyes were rimmed with red, but not the frightening kind. He looked away, blinking rapidly as he distracted himself by trying to wipe the blood from his lips. His sleeve turned red. You'd have to make sure he bought a new one.

Finally, he met your eyes again. "I didn't mean for this to happen," He apologized. The regret in his tone was as thick as blood. "I wasn't thinking. I just- I needed to hurt them and I never meant for you to be there when I did. I should be able to control this by now. I-I thought I could, but I don't care about anyone as much as I care about you and I just wasn't expecting to hate them so much once I saw what they did." He shook his head, blinking rapidly. "But I never meant to hurt you, and I don't want you to be afraid of me. It was supposed to be everyone else, you see? Everyone but you."

You nodded. "I think I can forgive you."

He smiled but it really wasn't happy. "It would be better if you didn't," He said. "I'm not good for you, darling," His voice was surprisingly even.

"I know."

"I'm not human. I'm not good for anyone. I'm nothing you deserve. "

You shook your head. "I don't care." You realized it as you said it and it was an awful thing to say, but that couldn't make it any less true. "I don't care about the things you're not because I've already got my hands full with all that you are."

"I am a bit of a handful, aren't I?" He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "But you're my handful."

"Your handful." His chocolate eyes twinkled with something very, very happy. You'd never seen it so clearly in him. Hope. He moved in closer and leaned in to rest his forehead against yours, lightly brushing noses in that familiar Inuit Kiss. "Would you be frightened if I said I love you?"

"Do you?"

He smirked. "How about I take you home and show you?" Kol purred. His eyes flicked down to where his hand rested on your leg and then back up. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively squeezing your thigh. Your eyes fluttered shut. Perhaps you should have been more worried after everything you'd just seen him do, but you weren't. You couldn't help but love the way he touched you. For hands that maimed and tortured were gentle just for you.

In spite of everything you'd been through - the exhaustion, the starvation, and the sheer freaking horror show you'd just witnessed - you couldn't help but laugh. "Kol, sweetheart... I really don't think now's the time!"

"Oh, please! I'm kidding!"

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @sleepneverheardofher @princess-charming-01

[llostwriter]

The Husky And The White Cat Shizun With Their Baobei

Chapter 10

Warning: Mention of erotic drawings.

Red Lotus Pavilion. Some would refer to it as Red Lotus Hell. The more practical moniker for it is Broken Leg Waterside Pavilion. But with the widespread claim that "those who had come out either had their arms or legs broken," the tales were definitely exaggerated. In addition to ignoring the accusations, you also never really cared to put an end to them. Although Shizun's punishment was occasionally severe, you are aware that it was done with the best of intentions. Chu Wanning and you are the only people in this world who truly understand his ideals and values. How come, after so those trips, your arms and legs haven't broken out if the claims are actually true?

You were the only disciple eager to go to Chu Wanning every day out of all the others. Chu Wanning didn't seem to mind your presence as time went on. You didn't mind taking on extra chores like housecleaning and occasionally even Chu Wanning's laundry. The laundry portion indicated that things were becoming better in your relationship. It indicates, after all, that he confides in you with his small personal items. For the first few trips, all you do is tidy the space and observe attentively from a distance as Chu Wanning creates 'Merch' out of the disorganized heap of metal bits.

You turned back to look at the bed. On top of the bed there used to be a collection of tools, saws, axes, files, and so on, all of which shined coldly and were unbelievably sharp. Everything was on the floor the next time you saw those tools. Shizun seems to have actually paid attention to what you had said. Naturally, scattering everything on the floor won't work either, so you had to locate a variety of empty boxes to hold the belongings. Sorting every thing into its own category rather than just piling them one on top of the other at random.

Your efforts have made Shizun's room appear more organized. Aside from the still disorganized heap of metal components, since Shizun would require it. It will take a while to sort through those metal components, but Shizun seems to be content with the disorganized mess. A sound shattered the rather serene atmosphere: "Disciple Mo Ran greets Master."

—-

The large numbers of individuals entering and leaving Meng Po Lobby. You entered Meng Po Lobby with Shizun by your side, took a lacquered wooden tray filled with a few dishes, and sat in a corner in silence. "You don't have to sit next to me against your will. You ought to associate with people on your own level." Shizun would occasionally asked you this out of nature. Still, your response will always remained succinct and straightforward: "I just want to spend more time with my Shizun." That would have been the regular course of events if Mo Ran hadn't joined in.

It didn't take a fool to figure out that Mo Ran is purposefully annoying Chu Wanning by loudly smacking his lips while chowing down on the sour and sweet pork. The two's arguments became more and more audible. Already, a few disciples were glancing at them. As you were only a bystander to their argument, it was difficult for you too. The only thing you could do was to kick Mo Ran in the shin as a warning from under the table. Mo Ran finally calmed down and huffed in annoyance.

Chu Wanning's appetite had vanished, though. Getting up, he declared, "I'm full." He was obviously not full because it is impossible for someone to be satisfied after eating so little. Mo Ran was undeserving of Chu Wanning’s state of starvation. Raising yourself from your chair, you intended to go with Chu Wanning. You were about to move when Mo Ran suddenly grabbed your wrist and said, "You didn't even finish with your own food, finish it before you leave." Mo Ran touched you voluntarily for the first time in a long time with this. Has he finally forgiven you? Chu Wanning was standing there, seemingly waiting for you to decide between Mo Ran and him. You retreated from Mo Ran's hold and dutifully trailed Chu Wanning.

Seeing that Mo Ran is all alone, Mo Ran decided to stop eating and follow as well.

—-

The three of you were standing in front of the library of Red Lotus Pavilion. When Chu Wanning instructed Mo Ran to register all those books after wiping them, he thought he had misheard. Mo Ran stared at the fifty rows of ten high bookcases. The deadline is early tomorrow morning. Chu Wanning usually gave you a deadline that was longer than this one. Perhaps you said those words out of sympathy: "Shizun, I'll stay to make sure that Mo Ran will follow your instructions."

It was easy. Mo Ran faces consequences if he disobeys his orders. You didn't need to become involved at all.

Chu Wanning is aware of that. Chu Wanning is also aware that you have to have a good reason before bringing it up, yet the bitter feeling persists. "If that’s what you wish for, then do it." And with that, he was gone.

The rows of worn books and Mo Ran were all by yourself. You saw Mo Ran glaring at Chu Wanning, the passing figure, as though that would make things better. In order to perform a powerful spell that would enable you to quickly and efficiently clean all the books at once, you intended to take out Xian'ye, your holy fan. Your spiritual power mostly comes from Xian'ye; without it, you could only perform very minor spells. You rarely utilize the medium skills without your holy weapon since they use nearly all of your physical spiritual power. It will take too long for little spells to clear everything.

Until you remembered that in this room, Chu Wanning would be able to sense your spells. Thus, you ultimately abandoned that notion. "Shixiong," Mo Ran's pathetic voice said. You responded with a hum.

Mo Ran: “I have an appointment with Shi Mei, so I was hoping that you can…”

You nearly felt like scoffing as you turned down his request. "Shidi, it would only take a few seconds for Shizun to find out if you left this place." Mo Ran groaned in disappointment, but then he got an idea and a grin appeared on his lips. He selected a couple of recently published books and a bamboo charcoal pencil that was lying in the vicinity, then he started sketching in the book. You can tell by his expression that it wasn't anything good.

You: "You are aware that writing and drawing are not permitted on those books, Shidi."

Mo Ran continued to draw in spite of that statement.

Mo Ran: "Yes, but how would Shizun know about it? Shizun is not capable of reading every book because there are so many of them.”

To get a better look at the drawing, you leaned in closer. Catching a peek of the seductively detailed designs. The illustration of two men around one another while having sex and sharing a tongue kiss. He even has the gall to record the conversations, leaving one of the men seeming meek and pleading for the other to push harder. Additionally, he portrayed a man performing the mating press on a woman as the drawn dick was pressing firmly inside of her and included intricately drawn body fluid on the portion of the dick that wasn't quite in. There were so many sultry drawings that you didn't even want to look at them closely.

Your flush was beginning to show on you already.

Mo Ran: "You know what? Is Shixiong aware that these types of things exist? Which position among these is Shixiong's favorite?”

Although you are aware that Mo Ran is deliberately unsettling you, you can't deny that it was effective.

"There's someone getting close." You heard Xian'ye's voice in your head. Since you needed to take your mind off those sensual paintings, you expressed your gratitude in silence. Shi Mei arrived and saw Mo Ran acting irrationally.

Shi Mei: "What are you doing, Mo Ran? Why are you here, Shidi y/n?”

Hopefully, Shi Mei doesn't misinterpret the situation by believing that you were involved in Mo Ran's scheme to illustrate pornographic material for the publications. Mo Ran is in disbelief—he never even imagined Shi Mei would be here. He sat up instantly and quickly covered the explicit drawings. He seemed to be pretending to be innocent and remarked, "Wiping the floor, nothing."

That was the silliest excuse you have ever heard. "Wiping the floor using your clothes?" Shi Mei asked, holding back his amusement as he quickly saw right through that.

You uttered the words "Shixiong Shi Mei, you should be asleep by now. It's getting close to midnight.” before Mo Ran could even reply.

Shi Mei: "Don't worry, I heard from a disciple that you two are over here. And I have nothing to do. So I went to have a look.”

[When he saw that you had chosen him over his disciple, he smiled a little, but it vanished when he saw both you and Mo Ran approaching him]

[sol-shines]

@ your tags PLEASE talk abt your parker designs!!!

this is for you and @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars THANK YOU for enabling me :3 sorry this took a little bit

if you don't know what this is about i drew my takes on the parkers here !

rambles under the cut:

SO what i sorta wanted to do was make. each parker flow into the next while subtly changing in between ,,, something something losing yourself to the game, becoming unrecognizable. so let's cover it parker by parker:

prime: i personally Love the hc that the coin is parker's mom. so prime is a lil ancient roman coded guy. he's SOOOO eldest sibling coded help. like he and his mom have a very strained relationship but also he thinks that if he just does whatever she wants she'll finally be proud of him :P whoops! and yeah v explosive anger (firewalker reference!), leading to ego, leading to. You Know. anyway. oh ALSO the parkers get younger as we progress so :))) they all STARTED at 19 but have varying degrees of age. so prime is in his mid-thirties.

parker ii: AH the most elusive of the parkers. SO: in my personal lore interp, parker ii was created when prime starting to push back against the coin more and more to the point where it was becoming a problem. and prime of course is very destructive and makes a mess when he's angry. so ii came about from me going "...what if parker just. said fuck it and left. didn't give a shit about ego just didn't wanna play the game anymore and found a way out." and that's exactly what my ii did. absolutely fucking vanished and quit the game for good. somehow. which uhhh MIGHT have been what caused prime to go apeshit ("why does ii get to leave and i'm stuck here?") and end prehistory. whoops. so i wanted to make them look very vagabond-y. somehow got even edgier than prime (impressive). also they're abt 30-ish. and have crazy gender stuff going on. possibly transfem. "but how is that possible if you hc the parkers as transmasc-" shhh. i don't know <3

park3r: GOD i loved doing this one. this parker is such a bitch and i love him. the first commissioner parker, created bc "OKAY so we gotta make him more young and impressionable and less unstable AND take him out of this game bc very clearly Bad Things will happen if he stays" so they made. a chronically online teenager and made them commissioner AMDNFM. god yeah i love this design he's sooo. just a 19-year-old trying to fill an impossible role and putting on a cool face about it. tragic, yes. but they're gonna complain the whole time and make everyone else miserable too. fully believe he was just scared and out of his depth the whole trial :( oops why are parkers iii and iiii so sad. i drew him closer to mid-20s here but honestly he could easily be younger

p4rker: LOVE this guy's lore so my hc is that after the trial that killed park3r it was like "uhhhh FUCK we need a new one of those. stat." so. they just. took park3r's incin'd body (ik it's not really Canon that park3r was incin'd he just Died but. let me have this) and like. stitched it back together. so p4rker is covered in burns and stitched together like frankenstein all over, and they just threw a mask on them like "see!!! new guy!!" the result of this being they didn't have. a whole ton of time to add shit like Personality, so p4rker is the outlier in that they're very naive and even polite? they don't understand what all the fuss is about them and just wants to be. nice? shame he didn't stick around long :/ the drippy bits are a little percolation nod! in this particular drawing he's like 20 :(

pvrker is. obviously the least human. park3r was more of a prototype of a commissioner, p4rker was a temporary placeholder at best, pvrker... was well and truly made For The Game. and his appearance reflects that. kinda a combination of iii's bluntness and 4's naivety. in-universe some people think he's the most sinister or whatever bc he's so directly Controlled By ILB Shit and that's not NOT true but like. give him a break guys he's like 6 days old he's new at this :(

ANYWAY that's so long holy shit. here are my rambles i hope u like them. im So Bad at blaseball lore so someone yell at me if something i put in there isn't accurate but. yeag :)

[888xiicos]

Tomimi Ideal City Wig Process

As usual, I forgot to document most of this process, but I can at least draw out steps I didn't photograph.

This is probably one of the more complex wigs I've styled, tying for first place with Tsumiki Mikan, solely for the amount of wefts and chopping that wig took. This wig is the first wig I've used pigtail/ponytail clips for and the first time I've done an ahoge! I'm incredibly proud of how it turned out so I can't wait to show how it started and pieces of the progress.

This has been in my drafts for almost a year now, so I may as well post it.

Pics, process, and final photo can all be found under the cut!

The humble beginnings..

I grabbed the basic supplies I figured I'd need and laid them out in easy to reach places.

[Supplies in image: Sewing thread, pin cushion, sewing needles, sewing pins with colorful round heads, wide tooth/wet hair comb, 1 hair claw clip, craft scissors, thread snips, pen, reference images, wig(s), Styrofoam head.]

[Supplies not shown in image: Hair cutting scissors, Got2B hairspray, hair crimper/flat iron, 2 smaller hair claw clips, 3 alligator hair clips, , permanent marker, wire, clear packing tape, glue gun, Elmer's glue (white craft glue), and a make shift wig stand]

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To start, I ordered one Clair Classic in Silver (CL082) and a single Short Clip Classic in Silver (CL-082) from Arda Wigs. The Silver colorway is a little more gray and subdued than the Pure White (CL-083) color way. I like it because it looks a bit more natural. Stark white and heavily saturated colors wash me out pretty bad, so I try to go for a more natural color option whenever possible.

I chose this specific wig because it had plenty of hair and plenty of layers near the front, which meant I had plenty to work with for Tomimi's bangs.

Arda Wigs, though a little pricey, has really thick wigs that feel like butter in your hands. I've worked with cheap Amazon wigs and other brands before, but Arda is still my favorite wig seller (even if it's by process of elimination since Match Wigs vanished into the void never to be seen again..... Match Wigs I miss you.....).

Because the wigs are so thick and have so many wefts, I knew I'd only need one Short Clip to use for both of Tomimi's pigtails. However, this is my first time using any form of wig clip, so it was a very new and puzzling experience for me! I'll explain more about wig clips further into the process below.

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When I start styling wigs, the first step is always to give it a good brush through with the wide tooth come to detangle it and get out any loose hair fibers. Once it's soft and tangle free, I strap it onto my foam head and pin it with colorful sewing pens that are impossible to lose in the wig (so I don't stab myself with them later on).

These styrofoam heads are usually smaller than an actual human head, so I don't recommend doing any head circumference reliant styling on them without adding padding to it! I mostly use mine when brushing it out, cutting the long parts of the wig, or fixing the part.

For this wig, I decided to try crimping for the first time. Arda wigs are great for crimping and the technique adds even more volume and makes the fibers more manageable in my opinion. Arda wig fibers are super silky and soft, so it makes holding them or maneuvering them sort of difficult. Crimping gave them more texture and allowed me to move the hair where I wanted it to go.

I crimped the bottom layers of the whole wig (bangs too!) and left the top layers un-crimped to retain a nice smooth texture on top.

Now, it's time to start trimming. Before I even thought about doing any cutting, I sat down and figured out the different sections of hair that make up the bangs. For anyone not familiar with sectioning off hair, drawing over the sections in different colors like this can really help!

Marking out the sections also helped me figure out where the part would go! Tomimi has one layer of a heavy sweeping bang and then a layer of hair that sort of fold over on top of them. One section of the lower layer actually tucks behind her ear, so I planned to leave that longer so I could easily pin it back under another layer of hair.

I also took this time to section off parts of her hair to pull back under the pigtail clips layer to make it look more natural. I've drawn over it in bright pink below to show what I mean.

Once things were held back with clips and sectioned off, I pulled that bad boy off the stand and put it on so I could start trimming the bangs. I did not realize they were as long as they were, but it was for the best in case I messed up. I gave a rough chop at around the bottom of my chin and slowly trimmed the lower bang layer up above my nose. I curled the hair with my flat iron as I went too avoid cutting off too much.

Sloppy before and after pic featuring the tendons in my bony little hand STRUGGLING to hold up this heavy monster of a wig. I admit, I'm not too skilled with teasing wigs, so I wasn't able to get the upper layer of the bangs to stick up like they do in the art, but I left the fibers loose enough that I could go back later and do it once I learned the Technique™. Silly anime hair vents will one day be possible for me.

As you can see, this wig is all silver, no black anywhere. I used the simplest method out there and flat out just added that black stripe with a permanent marker. Since it was in an area I didn't have to worry about coming in contact with my face or any bodily fluids like sweat, I did not seal it. If you use this method anywhere that may come in regular and frequent contact with your skin, fabric, or liquids, seal it or just use a weft to avoid staining anything.

I sectioned off a thin strip of hair from the upper layer of the bangs and pinned the rest of the hair back so the roots were visible. Then I just moved the marker up and down over thin layers of the hair until it was a solid black. You can also use alcohol markers, diluted acrylic paint, or acrylic ink for this, but a Sharpie easily does the trick for a section as small as this.

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Now it's ahoge time. Here's how I did it (Step by step diagram is under written instructions):

Step 1 This wig has a thick but soft top to it that allows things to be pinned or pushed through the top, so I used some thin jewelry wire to make the outline of the ahoge. Twist the bottom closed and curve it to the right shape. Don't trim off the excess wire at the bottom just yet, because you'll want it for stabilizing purposes later.

Step 2 Once you've made the outline and have it bent, you'll want to cover it in something clear you can attach hair to. I used clear packing tape, but it was honestly a little too stiff and sort of fussy to work with. You can probably use regular clear tape or even sticky plastic wrap. Whatever you use, be sure to trim the excess so you retain the same shape.

Step 3 Cover one side with hot glue and start adding your base layer of hair. I used the extra hair I trimmed off my bangs. They were closer to the length I needed and let me waste less hair! Once the first side is dry, do the same to the other. The hot glue sticks to plastic-y surfaces well enough to give you a base to build up off of. Be sure to pull/brush off any stray hairs.

Once you've finished your base layer, grab your white craft glue, a cup of water, and a brush you don't cherish too much to put glue on. What you're gonna do now is slowly build up the hair until you can't see the tape or the wire. The best way to do this is to put a thin coat of glue then a thin coat of hair and repeat until you get the result you like. Between layers, I recommend blasting it with a hair dryer to speed up the drying process. I sat mine a safe distance away in front of a small space heater while I worked on the pigtails to save time.

Step 4 Once you've built up as much hair as you want, it's time to stick the extra wire through the top of the wig. I stuck mine right into the middle of the center part. If your wig does not have a thick top or a skin top, you may want to sew in a thin piece of fabric to the inside of your wig before you do this step.

Step 5 Once you've stabbed your wire through the top of the wig, it's time to bend it! I like to make a little three-leaf clover shape since it's easy to tuck the ends of the wire back into the lace/fabric on the inside of the wig so it doesn't stab you while wearing it. I bend it to stat one leaf is pointing toward my forehead and the other two are pointing towards the back of my head.

To add extra stability, add a couple stitches at the very tips of the "leaves" with thread that matches your wig.

Here's the few pictures I remembered to take of this little guy, plus a bonus of him drying in front of the heater, just for fun.

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At this point, all that's left to do is curling the long part of the hair and adding the pigtails.

For anyone unfamiliar with wig clips, they're basically mini wigs wrapped around hair claw clips. The "claws" of the clips go through netting the wig wefts are attached to and then an elastic string sewn into the outer edge of that netting is tightened to hide the clip. I was dumb and did not take a pic of the pigtail before removing the clip b because it was a struggle to get it out. But I have pics of the finished versions below with the clip's inserted, so check further down for what it looks like finished.

For now, here's how I separated the pigtail into two:

First, I counted the wefts to ensure I'd have an even number in both halves (Spoiler alert, I counted right, but still marked and cut the wrong spot lmao). I decided to cut it horizontally (side to side) so the wefts wouldn't fray. From there, I pulled the elastic through so that I could find the middle of it and place it over where I marked the halfway point of the netting. I cut through the elastic strings first and clipped them out of the way before carefully cutting the netting.

I used my thread snips to cut the net since it allows for more precise cuts and helps me not make so many mistakes. The picture below shows the cut elastics and then the two separated halves.

What you can't see here, is that the bottom half of the pigtail's wefts were sewn the same direction as the top half, but I need to flip the bottom half upside down, meaning the hair is going up instead of down. For this reason, I wouldn't suggest this method, but also don't have a better one. Just know I struggled to get it looking close to the other one with lots of time spent flat ironing individual wefts and adding wefts.

I ended up folding over the bottom wefts to add to the tube the elastic was fed through around the edge of the netting so it would hold more tightly to the clip once I put them back in. I had two smaller clips from a long time ago I that fit perfectly into these smaller pigtails!

This is how they looked after I finished them:

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Now for the long part of the wig! All I'm going to do for this part is gently curl the ends inward. For this, I combed through in small sections and curled it with the flat iron. Because the wig fibers are plastic, they only hold their shape if they are in the desired shape when the plastic cools after being heated. Think of it like heating metal until it's flexible and it keeping the shape once it's cool.

To do this, I put the wig back on the head and attached it to my makeshift wig stand (I used a wreath stand you can buy in the floral section of a craft store because it's the best thing I had on hand, I don't recommend this, it's so wobbly...).

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The last step is to attach the pigtails!

I didn't photograph my progress, so please accept my diagram instead!

I didn't trim the part I pulled back simply out of fear of it coming undone and being unable to clip the pigtails back. Not shown here, but I used a thick weaving needle I've had for years to thread the black ribbon through the pigtails as the final touch.

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Aaaaaaaand here's the finished wig!

I'm super happy with how it turned out and can't wait to wear it. If I don't get good pics of me in this cosplay during the next con I wear it to I will cry.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

‘Everything OK?’ Marty asked tentatively as Alia stalked towards the counter, a look of thunder on her face that made him wonder who exactly had put her in such a foul mood: Jed or Claudine.

‘No,’ she said simply, the word almost like a curse as she crossed her arms on the counter between them. ‘Madam L hid the steps.’

Marty’s brows furrowed ever so slightly, but Alia continued to rant.

‘I asked her last week about some deal breaking spell I’d come across, and she told me not to get mixed up in that stuff. Said it was dangerous or something.’ She waved her hand absently through the air, as if the reasoning was inconsequential. ‘I finally have time to look at it, and the book I want is on a higher shelf than before.’ Her scowl deepened, eyes flicking almost accusingly to Marty. ‘And the step ladder isn’t near my chair.’

From anybody else, claiming a chair in the bookshop might have had Marty reminding them that it was a public space and nobody should be in there long enough to have claimed a space like that. But he was pretty sure he had heard Madam L refer to it as such on more than one occasion. Knew that she’d specifically put the steps there so that Alia didn’t either climb shelves for books, or keep him too long reaching for them that he couldn’t work behind the counter. For all her grumbled complaints about Alia Underwood, he knew that Madam L was more than OK with her constant company.

‘Where’s the book?’ Marty asked, stepping out from behind the counter, unsure if he was making the right decision or not, but knowing if he didn’t do anything it might make matters worse.

Alia watched him, almost warily, for a moment before nodding.

She turned on her heel and headed towards the back of the shop, the ever familiar route to her usual little nook. Still, he followed her rather than winding his way there through another aisle of books.

‘There,’ she said, throwing her arm up to indicate a large, faded red book. For most, the book would barely be more than a slight reach above their head; but to Alia it was impossible to reach without possibly doing herself some damage.

‘What else is in it?’ Marty asked. The book was a little out of Madam L’s own reach, which meant she’d have put it there on purpose. Wanted to make sure neither of them had easy access to it. It felt like a very specific sort of warning.

Alia let out a slightly exasperated huff of air. ‘I don’t know. Yet.’

Marty frowned. ‘Maybe we should –’

‘Martin, no offence, but I don’t actually need you for this,’ she said simply. ‘I came out of courtesy, to not get you in trouble with Madam L for letting me climb the shelves.’

‘But getting the book for you is fine?’ Marty cringed ever so slightly at the vague rising his voice’s pitch.

Alia shrugged delicately, the ghost of a Freddy smirk on her lips. ‘You weren’t to know she moved it. Just that I couldn’t reach it and needed help.’

Marty let out a breathy scoff, realisation dawning on him. She was only telling him part of the truth, sharing information with him because she needed to not do this alone. She was nervous, understood that Madam L had her reasons for the book’s placement. That his own curiosity would draw him to help her even if he was a little bit terrified of his boss as well.

With a surprising level of confidence he’d earned from spending too much time with Carolyn, Marty took a step closer to Alia. He reached up for the book, attention flicking briefly to the shelf to check he was grabbing the right one. For once, Alia didn’t take a step back, didn’t maintain her usual distance of personal space. Instead, she tilted her chin up just a little to maintain eye contact.

‘This had better be worth it,’ he said, sliding the book free and holding it out to her.

Alia shot him a smile, one that made his heart stutter and assured him that he truly was falling for her. That she could have said there was just about anything in that book and he would have got it for her simply because it was her that had asked.

‘It will be,’ she vowed, and he truly didn’t doubt it.