#but let her warm up to u and she becomes a small fire ball (careful. she will bite)

[visionkept]

headcanon question incoming! personality-wise, who do you think tama took more after? her dad or birth mom? :o

HEADCANON TIME !

The answer is ; NEITHER ! Tomoya's an EXTROVERT ( obviously ) and considering that Tama's birth "mom" would have been a random hook up in one of the noisy college parties they attended, it's easy to assume that she would have been an extrovert as well.

Meanwhile Tama could be described as an INTROVERT ! Yes, she has a fierce and chaotic side like Tomo but it only comes out to those she trusts ( aka. mainly her papa and Chi ). Tama is a very quiet girl, keeping her thoughts to herself and preferring to step back and analyze the situation rather than act and talk. If somehow you win her favour, you'll be able to see her coming out of her shell to tell you about her favorite things, displaying her most active and self indulgent side. You could say that part of hers does take after Tomoya.

Do not let her shy demeanor trick you, this little girl is not dumb nor oblivious, the other way around, she takes notice of every detail and if needed, she will use them against you. Beyond that polite and kind face there's a girl that can bite, hiss and scratch like a cat.

Tama is a wild card, you think she'll be the most collected and well behaved four years old kiddo yet the second she gets enough trust, she's becoming a storm full of SURPRISES ! ( Those 'surprises' do include randomly wanting to eat bugs, biting, rambling about shows, roaring as if she was a dinosaur and so much more ).

[idontblushsrry]

Sesshomaru|| SFW Alphabet

A/N: Heheh he seggsy ft. a gender neutral reader

Word Count: 2140

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sesshomaru shows affection by cutting off the heads of those that would dare threaten you and overall ensuring your safety. He also lets you lay on him, whether in human form or demon form, the fact that he lets you lay on him, let alone be near him when he’s so vulnerable speaks volumes of your bond.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Sesshomaru doesn’t really do best friends, if he’s interested in you, he’ll make it known when he feels is most appropriate but otherwise you’re likely in his mind at least a subordinate or acquaintance at most.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As stated before, Sesshomaru is a secret cuddler, even more surprising is the fact that he’s good at it. Sesshomaru’s cuddles are warm and fluffy and his arm wrapped tight around your waist makes you feel safe and secure. When he’s cuddling you, he’ll also bury his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder, to him this is where your scent is strongest and he loves to be reminded of it as the rest of your scent slowly blends into his.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settling down for Sesshomaru is kind of a weird term, it takes a lot of explaining and even then he’s still confused. When you ask him about it though, he informs you that you’re more than welcome to stay at his castle, but part of his duty is patrolling his land. He can’t settle down but he swears to you that you’ll never want for anything so long as you allow him to stand by your side.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

To be honest, Sesshomaru would probably just drop you off at the nearest human settlement/demon settlement (if it’s a really bad breakup he’ll just leave you to fend for yourself). If Rin is particularly attached to you, he may feel bad internally but in his mind, she’ll have to understand that the two of you just weren’t meant to last.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sesshomaru is kind of already engaged to you once you accept his courting offer. While he won’t be pushy about it, he does want to marry you as soon as possible. The moment you agree to marry him is the happiest day of his long life, and the whole affair is a week long festivity followed by a month long honeymoon.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sesshomaru is by no means gentle. Maybe if pushed to the brink of desperation to where your life was in danger, he’d crack just a little bit, the aftermath of which he’d make some excuse to always be holding or carrying you. Overall though, he’s not really gentle but he doesn’t need to be, he more than makes up for it because he treats you like you’re a gift from the heavens and a grace to all living things.

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn’t initiate hugs, ever. He lets Rin hug him and you but that’s about it. If anyone else tried to hug him, he’d cut their arms off and if anyone aside from Jaken or Ah-Un saw him receiving a hug they’d better start running.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Like with settling down, it takes some convincing and a lot of explanation on your part for him to understand how three words convey to you the depth of his devotion. The way he says ‘i love you’ isn’t through words (although he eventually does say so to make you happy) it’s through the way his gaze melts just a little bit when he sees you, it’s in the smile he gives no one but you, it’s in the way he’s willing to give up everything, just for you.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

When Sesshomaru gets jealous, it’s actually kind of serious. He doesn’t get jealous as he has no need to but seeing how Mukotsu stole you away from him and hearing how one of the thunder brothers tried to marry you made his blood boil with rage. If he hadn’t already disposed of Mukotsu he’d have made him die a slow death by Sesshomaru’s poison. Also, the fact that Inuyasha killed the thunder brothers is one of the few things he doesn’t begrudge his brother for.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sesshomaru’s kisses are rough and demanding, even when he’s trying to be soft with you. Something in his nature that wants to assert dominance even in the tamest expressions of love. It’s not like you mind though, his kisses always leave you breathless and wanting more.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

As evidenced by Rin (and kind of Kohaku), Sesshomaru is really good with kids. He’s just firm and uncaring enough to keep kids in line while still letting them play and explore. And deep, deep, deep down, he enjoys kids because of the almost naive outlook they have on the world, but he’d never admit that.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Sesshomaru are really nice and pleasant...until you have to pee. At which point it becomes an almost wrestling contest against a clingy cuddly demon who still wants to be pressed against his mate until time forces you both to wake up. It doesn’t help either that you’re likely sore from the night before.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

The SFW version of a night with Sesshomaru usually consists of you telling Rin (and a bitter Jaken) stories around the fire. Rin will probably help you put your hair up before you go to sleep and when the little ball of energy finally collapses, you tuck her in and kiss her forehead. Sesshomaru in the meanwhile, would watch all of this from a distance, his superior senses negating any need to be close anyways; plus he prefers to watch over all of you from afar before sneaking under the covers next to you while you’re asleep.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Sesshomaru doesn’t necessarily mean to shut you out he just reveals information on a need to know basis. In addition to that, most of his thoughts are carefully revealed through small subconscious reactions or expressions that take you a while to even pick up on, much less interpret. Eventually though, he does become open with you, you become the only person in the world that he trusts with the full breadth of his secrets and vulnerability.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s a 50/50 split. He can be patient when he wants to, but sometimes people are moving too slow for his liking and he starts to feel his hand twitch with the urge to use his claws. To get him angry to the point of it being visible on his face or even to the point that he shifts into his demon form is something few (namely Inuyasha and Kagome) are capable of. With you though, he does get a little impatient, especially at the beginning when you didn’t understand his grunting, but never fully enraged to the point of transforming.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sesshomaru remembers things about you like your scent, what makes you happy, what makes you mad, etc., all very basic information for him. He doesn’t really bother to remember things like anniversaries or birthdays just for the simple fact that his concept of time is completely different to yours. He doesn’t see the point in celebrating anniversaries (he manages by noticing the changes in your scent when yalls anniversary is approaching) and he finds it amusing that you celebrate his birthday, he hates celebrating yours though because it just reminds him that you’re human and each year is closer and closer to an eternity he’ll have to inevitably spend without you.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Sesshomaru’s  favorite moment in your relationship was when Rin accidently likened you to a parental figure one day. You managed to keep it together, but the moment she got distracted you turned to him and just sobbed into the fluff of his tail. The memory still makes him laugh but you swore him to secrecy, and he fears ever so slightly what you’d do if he broke that vow.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Sesshomaru does all the physical protection in your relationship. He can sense danger better even when far away and has skills and senses that you really can’t compare to. Although, Sesshomaru never sees you as inferior to him, as long as you rub his head and shoo away Kagome whenever she tries to be too sisterly with him, he’s all good.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As mentioned earlier, Sesshomaru, while he doesn’t care for anniversaries, definitely makes a big event out of showing his love to you. Although the two of you aren’t dating, you’re courting (or married), he still manages to make you feel like the most beautiful person on Earth when he takes you out. If your date isn’t a private personal affair, he’s making a big show of it. Everyone in the land will know that you are his and that you are incredible in every way (basically multiple feasts/parties held in your honor).

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

A bad habit of Sesshomaru’s is his impatience. He can be patient, but it’s mostly a façade, one in place to maintain his cool, unbothered persona. Truth is, many things bother him and he tends to just bottle it up and let it build until it boils over. Now, he may snap at you, but it’s most likely that he’ll walk away to go hack at a tree and not speak to you for a while. This leads to his second bad habit, his aloofness. While Sesshomaru is always aloof, it’s not usually a bad thing. But if he gets into one of his moods and you push and push and push, it will cause an argument.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Sesshomaru isn’t concerned with his looks, he always looks flawless. 

W: Worry (changed bcus I don’t like how the original frames relationships)

Sesshomaru does worry about you a lot. He tries not to say anything or let it bother him but it seems like every second he’s reminded of your human fragility. One day for trip over a tree root, the next you poke your finger sewing Rin’s clothes, and just one after another until your damned birthday comes around again and he’s reminded of the fact that you’ll get old much faster than he will. Needless to say, he worries about you a lot.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

He has some previous relationship experience, mostly from matches his mom set up or random hookups. You’re most likely his first and only serious relationship.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

He thinks people who seek to gain power/get ahead through frivolous means to be some of the most distasteful scum of the Earth. Aside from that he doesn’t really dislike anyone, aside from humans, or half-demons, or other demons, or anyone weaker than him, or... we could be here all day, but he pretty much only likes you, Ah-Un, Rin, Kohaku, and sometimes Jaken

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Sesshomaru has never really had to sleep in a bed proper before you so he can just kinda fall asleep anywhere and be perfectly fine. His other skills include sleeping while standing and sleeping with his eyes open.

[winslctrg]

I Love You, With A Touch Of Tragedy And Quite Madly. (Mildred Ratched x Reader)

summary: a regular day at work turns out to be not so regular

a/n: this is for @sassicaismysupreme surpriseeee i was ur secret fic writer. Not important, but this is my first fic ever so i hope it is any good!

warnings: slapping, angst!

Your relationship with Mildred was a fairytale. You were all sunshine and blue skies. Though some clouds might be there with the occasional rainy day, there were rarely thunderstorms.

Mildred only added to your sunshine. She has been like some sort of rainbow hanging above your little heart island, making it a happier place. Rainbows are rare and special, and that’s also how you looked at Mildred.

It had always been happy. You were used to it like that, and you liked it that way. No complications, no anxiety, no fears, no anger. Mildred was some sort of safe haven where you just never had any problems. That's probably why the situation affected you so much.

It was one of those blue sky, happy sunny days. You opened your eyes, closed them again against the rays that fell right through your curtains. You couldn't be annoyed for long though, because your head immediately met your sleeping girlfriend's.

Your mouth fell into a soft smile upon seeing her. She always seemed to have that effect on you, no matter where you guys were. It once even happened at a funeral, and Mildred had to give u a soft warning glare. Not that that helped though, it only made you smile more. She made you smile. At home, at work, in the grocery store, on the street, at parties, anywhere at anytime. She was quite simply everything to you.

You pressed a soft kiss on her temple “Wake up darling, we’ll be late.” You whispered, before running your hand softly through her hair. The sun made her features even more gorgeous than they usually were, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and her beautiful big lips. Your hand left her hair and ran softly from the forming frown between her eyebrows all the way down to her nose before putting it on her now blushing cheeks.

“Goodmorning sunshine.” You giggled. A soft smile spread on Mildred’s face as she finally opened her eyes. Her brown eyes looked nearly gold because of the sun. You begged. Wished to stay like this forever, but the alarm went off, pulling you both out of your trances. You grinned at her before you sat up and grabbed her wrist. She positioned herself right in your arms. You let your nose slip into her beautiful reddish-brown hair, smelling her expensive shampoo.

You never got used to moments like these. They made your heart race, and you were sure it also grew 3 times bigger. “I love you” you whispered into her hair, as if making a promise to yourself that your heart would forever beat for her. “I love you too honey.” She said before yawning. “Aww are you sleepy baby?” you teased. “Did i wear you out last night?” your said, and you winked at her. Mildred glared at you, but you could see the pink tones covering her ears and cheeks. You kissed her softly, before pulling away again but resting your forehead against hers, noses touching. “We have to get ready.” You whispered. “I know.” She replied. She put her soft hands on your cheeks, as her long slender thumbs started stroking the area right beside your nose. “I love you.” You said again, just for the sake of reassuring your promise to her. She knew, because she smiled and when you looked deep into her warm brown eyes you saw that same promise. “I love you too, lets get dressed.”

You were in the car to work, both of you working at the hospital. Mildred drove, always. You did try once, but then nearly hit a car because you were too busy staring at her. You didn’t mind not driving, it meant you could stare at her without the posibillity of killing an entire family and their dog.

As you both arrived on the parking lot, you made sure your hat was on right and straightened Mildred’s too. You glanced around, saw nobody and kissed her. It always cleared your mind, kissing her. It seemed to draw out any negative feelings and fill your head with love, much like a love potion.

You both stepped out of the car and went to your respective entrances. You gave Mildred a small smile before parting.

Work went slowly, but good. You were good friends with Huck, and he made time speed up just a little faster, plus seeing Mildred at lunch really made you optimistic again.

After lunch, Mildred called you and Huck to a treatment room. There was a girl there, around your age, and she looked frightened.

“Nurse Finnigan, nurse y/l/n, this is miss Ruth Davis. She’s here because of unexplainable feelings towards women, which is simply unacceptable, don’t you guys think?” You pushed up an eyebrow and looked at Huck, who also had a confused expression on his face. “Well?” Mildred asked, a slight tinge to her tone now. Huck cleared his throat. “Yeah uh sure, unacceptable.”

You, however shook your head. “I don’t think she should be tortured simply for liking women. I don’t see a problem with it honestly.” You said as calmly as you could. You met Hucks gaze, saw his shocked eyes but also his slight grin. You averted your gaze to meet Mildreds eyes, saw a flash of panic. Panic? No, now it was definitely anger. “Nurse y/l/n thats incredibly inappropriate. I suggest you find another job if you think that way.” She said, her voice sounded a little too forced for your liking. “I’d gladly do, but um I know you don’t have a problem with it either.” You said and moved your head to look at the girl. “She doesn’t,” you told her. “I’d know-“

Before you had the time to finish your sentence, you felt a hard burning on your cheek and you stumbled tot he ground. She had hit you. Your mind was running 800 miles per second. You stared back up at her with tears threatening to come out of your eyes.

“I should’ve known it wasn’t real, right? That this was all a big game to you. That you didn’t actually care about me.” You whispered and you tried to lean on your shakey hands. “I’m sorry for believing you didn’t actually hate me, I’m sorry you had to keep your act up for so long. I just thought-“ your voice broke mid sentence. “I thought we were happy.” You blinked. Didn’t, couldn’t look at her. You opened your mouth to speak again, but instead a sob made it’s way out. You shook your head feverently and ran past her. “Don’t come after me.” You murmered as your shoulders touched. Away. Away. Away.

You didn’t know how long you had ran for, you wondered how you had even kept on going that far. Breathing was becoming, air scraping it’s way through your lungs, making them bleed. Doesn’t matter, you told yourself. It definitley wasn’t bleeding as badly as your heart

You only ever wanted to be hers. To watch the sunset with her ever night in the summer, and sit by the ocean just because you could. To give her hugs for warmth when she had underestimated the cool sting of the autumn air. To hold her hand on walks during the snow in the winter, and buy her the perfect christmas presents. To pick her some blooming daisies and lavender and violets in the spring and make a bouqet, just for her. You wanted to make her feel wanted.

You came to a halt as you realized where you had run to. Her house. Because that was home. She was. Your face crumpled and you started sobbing. You rand to the nearest wall to steady yourself, before giving up and letting yourself slide down the wall. You let your head fall in your hands and buried your shaking fingers in your hair.

“Yes, I’m scared of you! You hit me!” you screamed out, voice breaking halfway through out of frustration, anger and love. That one was hard to admit, but you knew you were mad because you loved her. Because you had spent months making a flower garden with all of your memories, and all that you knew of her, and all of your feelings, and she had just set it on fire.

“Look y/n I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do.” She said. Her voice was soft and you tried to listen for any sign of a lie. You couldn’t find any. You whipped your head up, glaring at her with such passion that even you were scared of what you were capable of. “You should’ve thought about that before you put you whole palm on my face, don’t you think?” you snarled. You saw her chin tremble, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You know, you always tell your patients not to be afraid, but i don’t think there’s anyone that’s more scared than you. I know you are, don’t even pretend you aren’t. I know you.” You paused for a second, took a shaky breath in, cursed at yourself internally. “You might not know it, but I do. 4 months don’t just go by, Mildred. Neither for you nor for me.”

You saw a tear slip out of her eye. “I’m so sorry y/n. I do know. I do care. I’m sorry.” She breathed, and you could practically hear your heart break. “I don’t know what to do, but I do care. I can’t-“ her sentence got broken up by a big intake of breath, before a loud sob escaped her mouth. “I was so scared.” She cried. Your eyebrow pushed up. You should've known she was afraid, should've known she never agreed to do the therapy, should’ve known you burnt your own flowers the minute you started talking. But you were confused, and you felt hurt and you reacted on that.

You didn't even think about her feelings, if you were going to be honest with yourself. You wanted to feel guilty, but deep down you knew you couldn’t blame yourself. She hurt you, she hit you and that wasn’t going to be forgotten in a heartbeat.

But you loved her. More than anything. And so you tried to pick up all of the broken pieces, yours and hers, and tried to glue all of it into one big love ball.

“I’m not gonna say that its okay, Mildred, because it’s not and you know that.” You started. You saw her eyes scarily looking up into yours. You took a deep breath in before continuing. “But this doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.” Her eyes watered again. “It doesn’t?” You shook your head. “No it doesn’t, but you try doing that again and I won’t give you another chance.” Mildred shook her head violently. “Alright, come on, we’ll go home.”

That night before you guys went to bed, you approached her.

“Mildred,” you said as she was going to the bathroom. She turned around, her beautiful curls falling just right over her shoulders. “Yeah?” she said. You smiled. “I love you.” She hid a small blush while turning back around. “I love you too darling.” She replied. You smiled to yourself. Though this was too big of an issue to just blow over, you knew you and Mildred would work through it. Because you loved her, even if it was tragedy sometimes.

[colossal-fallout]

Request from @whydoilooklikeawetdog; Forgive me for what I am about to request but soft mommy kink s4 mikasa with male bodied reader. I have issues anyways hope u have fun with it bestie

Coming right up my darling <3

Embrace M!Bodied Reader X Mikasa

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Only. Mommy Kink.

"Tough day?" Mikasa's lips part with concern as you flop down onto your bed, arm covering your eyes.

She may know you better than anyone else, but it didn't take a familiar eye to notice your slumped, energy lacking posture and frown that tugged the corners of your mouth as you'd entered your shared bedroom.

"Just one of those days." You mutter in reply. You didn't really have the energy reserves to talk about it. Not only that, but you much prefer not to burden anyone with your problems. Not that Mikasa see's it that way, of course.

Her soft orbs take in your form on the bed - chest rising and falling at the relaxed relief of finally being on your mattress evident in how you allow yourself to sink into it as deeply as it would take you.

You flinch in surprise and remove your arm as you feel her plop herself above you, one arm on each side of your chest - her eyes heavy and the residual dusting of a slight smirk ghosting her face.

"Well, you don't have to talk about it, if you don't want. But let me take care of you..."

You sit up slightly, at first you're confused as to what she means until her hand softly brushes up against your crotch, the haze of lust clouding her usually clear blue eyes.

"Hey, it's okay." You sigh, not wanting her to think that you were merely hinting for her to see to your needs.

"I want to." Her voice is low as she straddles you, throwing her leg over your hip before leaning down and trailing her beautiful lips down your neck, her fingers already fumbling at your belt buckle.

You hands instantly snap to her ass as if on auto-piolet. Like your body just suddenly had a mind of it's own, you push her down and grind her against your hardening junk, stirring awake like some beast about to awaken from a long slumber and ready to hunt.

"I think you're already starting to feel a little better, baby..." She groans into your neck as her clit is stimulated from the friction, her hips now moving on their own accord.

"Yeah... me too." You reply, gasping as her hands finally free your cock, the fresh air hitting it reminding you of just how long it had been since you allowed yourself to just lay back and take some well deserved pampering.

Her delicate hand wraps around your head, slowly tugging at it while her teeth pulls at the skin on your shoulder through the cloth of your shirt, her own hunger for you becoming more evident as her breathing rate increases, her slick sticking to the cloth of her panties.

Your eager fingers move around to her front, tugging at her trousers in haste; wanting nothing more than to see her beautiful pussy on display for you. As soon as you catch a glimpse of her small pink lips as she shimmies out of her restraints, you sigh and lick your lips, more than ready to feel her insides.

You go to slide your fingers into her arousal when she grabs your wrist and pushes your hand back.

"No. Let mommy take care of you." She hums, her soft slit rubbing itself up and down your length.

You lie back and enjoy the view - the feeling of her heat rolling off her and encasing you was all too welcoming as her cheeks begin to flush pink, enjoying the feelings your hard muscle was giving her as she rubbed herself up and down you.

"You feel so good..." She gasps, her fingertips sinking into your chest as her pace slowly begins to quicken.

"I'm not even in you, yet." You smirk.

"I know. You're just too good..." Her eyes begin to plead as she gets more fired up, her soft black strands spilling over her face as her head begins to tip back.

"Sit on me." You groan, wanting nothing more than so slide into the wetness you see getting thicker and spreading further around her and you.

"Sit on me, what?"

"Please..." Your grip tightens on her peachy ass.

"No..."

"Sit on me, mommy..."

She pushes herself down, your swollen bell squashing into her tight little hole with a blazing glory.

As your dick pushes its way inside, you feel every warm ridge dragging down your flesh. The tight embrace around you is indescribable - you watch her little cunt stretch around your length, yawning at your girth.

Mikasa rolls her hips opening her legs and placing her feet flat on the sheets; giving you the best front row view of her quivering pink bloom. You can't ignore how soft her skin is under your hands as she slowly rocks herself back and forth, her thighs being squeezed by your hungry palms. Each slow thrust of her pelvis shows you the little bump imprint of your dick inside of her as her face goes from a soft pink into a deep red hue.

"Ah~ Is that good, baby?" She whines.

You nod, not wanting to tear your gaze from her splayed pussy with your dick print prodding from within her with every slow roll.

"I'll always take care of you, sweetie." Her vocals are soft yet desperate, her gaze warm and her grip on you trembling, as her body is crashed with intense sensations. "You just need some love... ah!"

The scent of her sex crawls up you, the sound of her insides swallowing you is evident enough while you feel her warm liquids begin to ooze down onto your balls behind her.

You thrust up your hips, yearning for more of her as the deep recesses of her core pull and squeeze you - needing to feel as much of you as possible.

Your name leaves her lips in breathy pants, your tip grazing her cervix as she begins to now bounce, taking your breath away.

"M-mikasa..." You stammer as she moves up and down. "Fuck..."

"Ah~ yes! Baby..." She squeaks, her pace quickening. "You're ruining mommy... ah... yes! I'm so close..."

You grab her and roll over; feral and hysteric as you push her legs up behind her head, dipping yourself into her finger-trap like cunt as it pulls you in deeper and tighter, her silent scream confirming her approval of your position change.

"I'm c-cuming, ah!"

Her toes curl and thighs tense in your hands as she juices you dry, her orgasm summoning your own as you release your thick cream deep inside of her centre - her hums of satisfaction vibrating her chest as you grimace throughout your ecstasy.

"Mmm good boy..." She sighs as you flop down - her tight cunt having squeezed every last drop out from you. "I told you I'd take care of you."

[winterxisxcomingx]

Leopold and Noelle headcanons

as childhood friends!

this two know each other since young age

Mereoleona often comes to Silvas family to check up on kids

it was one of the things she had promised Acier

well, in the end she prefers to live with nature, so she was just checking if everyone was alive and had enough to eat

and if everything was more or less okay she was out of the town again

anyway, when Noelle was five, she met Leopold

and it was thanks to Mereoleona. One time she went to Silva’s house and Leopold went with her

kids were in similar age and when Noelle was quiet and shy child, Leopold was energetic and loud

He was the first who introduced himself

Noelle was hesitant at first, but that boy has so positive energy that she quickly warmed up to him

it wasn’t easy with her family, so she was very happy when she made her first friend

what can I say, when Noelle wasn’t around her siblings she was happy child who smiles a lot

(and to be honest, Leo loved making her smile. Like, it made him feel special. Even his siblings couldn’t make her smile and laugh so much!)

they were playing a tag and other games

they mostly spend time in Vermillion house, because when they were in Noelle’s house, her siblings embarrassed her, made fun of her or just were being rude

Leo was so mad, but he couldn’t do much. But of course it didn’t mean that he didn’t do anything. Little pranks like sending lil fire on Solid’s clothes was always nice. His scared and then furious expression was satisfying. Even Noelle was laughing. She cares about her family, but it was funny to see that kind of expression on her sibling’s face

When they were older, they started training. Noelle couldn’t hit the target no matter how many times she tried. Sometimes, after long training, she was just sad and tired and she couldn’t stop her tears

But she wasn’t alone! Well, she wasn’t always alone. Sometimes she trained with Leo. And when Leopold saw her tears firstly he assured her that they are still young but they will be better when they get older and he can’t wait to see her in action! And sometimes it worked. But if not, Leopold just started goofing around, trying to make her smile. And let me tell u that he was good at making Noelle smile. 

Sometimes when she came to Vermillion’s house, he didn't have time because he was still exercising with his brother. She didn’t really mind that. She enjoyed watching the two of them. But even so... One side of her was a lil jealous of their relationship. But the other side was happy for Leo. She also liked seeing his smiling face

She really enjoyed watching his training. He was determined, energetic and hard-working. It was motivating for her.

So everytime he showed her new spell she was in awe and she was so happy for him

(Leopold was always so proud of himself, after hearing her compliments, ha!)

After a while, Noelle wanted to do more than just watching. So she decided that when Leo was training she would go to the kitchen and tell people to made something good to eat

(let’s not forget that she was from royalty and still just a kid!)

He was surprised when he saw her smiling, proud face and the basket she was holding in both hands. He could see there was food inside. He didn’t expect her to do something like this. Something especially for him! So yeah, he ate everything what was in the basket! After that he couldn’t even stand up, so the two of them were just lying on the ground, laughing together.

and yes, this thing has become their tradition! Maybe expect eating that much food that Leo can’t stand up, but they always eat something after his training 

piggy back rides!

It started when both of them were even younger. The first time that Leo gave Noelle piggy back ride was when she was hurt. They were playing, but suddenly Noelle was on the ground, tears in the eyes, holding her aching foot. Leo at that time was kinda panicking. He didn’t know if he should go for adults or stay with her or... But then she grabbed his clothes and ask to not leave her. And he couldn’t. He said that she can go on his back! And then he ran so, so fast! 

Honestly he ran so fast because of panic and because he thought that it wouldn’t hurt her so much if he would be fast and if he finds adults fast enough

of course, that logic doesn’t work. But that fast piggy back ride make Noelle forget for a moment about pain and just enjoy the feeling!

the second time was when Noelle was in Vermillion house. She saw Leopold on Fuegoleon’s back, and she saw how happy (yes! even mister serious!) they are! Her eyes sparkled with excitement when she was watching them. Later, Leo’s big bro had to go and they stayed together. And it was then when Noelle gain so confidence and ask Leopold to give her a piggy back ride. To be honest, both of them were happy. Leopold felt like a real man! Real knight and as someone as cool as his big bro! While Noelle was just happy with the new experience!

after that time, piggy back rides were a normal thing for them. 

sometimes even Fuegoleon let her sit on his back. And when he did, she was soooo high! That was fun!

When they were on some kind of banquet, Noelle was always trying to be close to Leo. Yes, sure, she also knew Mimosa, but she was a “perfect child” and everybody always compared them. She didn’t want to say anything (also because it wasn’t Mimosa’s fault) but it hurt her. So she preferred to be with loud boy and his family

As a royal kids, both of them had a dancer teacher. And, surprise, Leo was his first dancer partner on the official banquet! 

On that time she was stressed, afraid that she forget steps and her sibling who said *a lot* of hurtful words to her before ball didn’t help

But he saw her behaviour and didn’t want her to feel so nervous and sad on her first banquet, so he decided to ask her for a dance with his big smile and loud laugh

Yeah, some people from royal family would find his behaviour inappropriate

but for Noelle it was so familiar that she relaxed immediately. And said yes!

As much as she admired Leo, she couldn’t say that he was a great dancer

At some point they even nearly fall, if it wasn’t for Fuegoleon’s help. Leopold felt the small fire pinching him, so he quickly twirled her, avoiding falling, and continued to dance like nothing happened

and yes, she still heard people bad-mouthing her, but she tried didn’t listen them, pretend like she doesn’t care and just have fun

so yes, her first banquet was a good experience.

And yes, being friends with Leopold was the best thing that could ever happen to her in her childhood.

[citydreamgrls]

yule ball

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 3,629

a/n: the growing love I’m getting on all my weasley fanfics is amazing, I cannot thank everyone enough so here’s a yule ball one shot instead hope u enjoy !! :))

warnings: mentions of alcohol (?)

George had decided he wanted to go to the yule ball with her the second they announced it, unable to miss the excitement light up in her eyes as the girls around her squealed.

With the fear that someone else could beat him to it, he raced to catch her, Fred mumbling something about how they had a class with her first thing as he left. But he just ignored him, weaving through hoards of people filing out of the great hall.

“Woah steady,” Y/n had laughed, seeing the redhead running towards her in the hallway like a madman. “Who’s died?”

“You wanna go to the ball with me?” He asked, eyes wide and waiting, but still she giggled at him and nodded.

She had presumed he’d asked her because it was an easy choice, they were all friends for a long time, so it would make sense for him that she’d say yes. On the other hand, there was a part of her that was excited to be his date to the ball. As much as she loved Fred equally, something about his brother’s gaze made her heart warm just a little and the idea of spending more time alone with him made her blush to herself.

-

“He has to have a thing for you,” Angelina pressed, having thought the same thing for years on end. This was just adding fuel to her argument. The twins were messing about across the classroom, unbothered by the dark haired teacher sending them daggers.

“We’re going as friends,” Y/n laughed, trying to finish her potion before Snape came round to check them. Her friend was no help as usual, just flicking through the textbook and gossiping about her day.

“Did he say that?” She asked. “Well, no bu-” “No buts, it’s a date y/n.” “Stop it. He sees me as a friend, that’s all.” She scoffed, finally completing the task and sighing with relief as Snape got nearer.

Deep down she hoped Angelina was right, that her talk of his glances and lingering smiles when they were together was true. Y/n wanted more than anything to not make a fool of herself though, which had held back her feelings all these years in fear of rejection.

-

That evening she sat with the twins at dinner, as she had done since the first night she arrived at Hogwarts. Fred was doing his best to turn his water into wine, with no luck and George was grilling her about the ball as she tried to eat.

“No I haven’t picked a dress George, I only found out today.” She scoffed, slapping Fred’s hand away from her plate as he tried to steal another roll. “Stop it,”

“Well I just heard some of Ginny’s friends talking about it,”

“They’re probably just over-excited,”

“Aren’t you?” “I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not my wedding day. I have more time to plan.” George nearly choked on his food at the mention of weddings, hoping his half-wit brother hadn’t mentioned anything. But Fred was too busy eating to care about their conversation, so it’s possible he had actually managed to keep his mouth shut this time.

-

As the week passed slowly, most people flew into the frenzy of finding a date for the ball, or picking out a dress last minute. But y/n was grateful that she had organized it all earlier on, as Angelina’s constant need for an opinion was becoming more and more distracting.

“What about this one?” She pushed the magazine into the sleeping girl’s face.

“I’m not awake,” Y/n grumbled.

“You are now, so look!”

“It’s very nice.”

Angelina groaned and fell back onto her own bed.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“They’re all very good choices, you’ll look great regardless. And I'm sure Fred will think the same.” It was nice to not be on the receiving end of the teasing as Angelina had been asked to the ball by the remaining twin, it gave y/n all the ammunition to joke around with her friend.

“Yeah but your dress is gorgeous, everyone will be looking at you.” She huffed, making the other girl snort herself awake with amusement.

“My dress is black, that’s it.”

“Yeah well it looks really good on you, and I’m sure George would think the same.” The girl groaned, knowing better than to let her guards down with her best friend around.

“Go to bed already!”

“I need to choose one y/n,”

Y/n got up out of bed, grabbing a blanket and heading for the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping in the common room,” She glared and huffed off, her friend still calling after her.

“But the dress!” It called for a big eye roll as she reached the bottom of the stairs, spotting one of the twins with her back to her near the fire. He turned round after hearing Angelina’s voice booming.

George laughed at the sight of her wrapped in a blanket, a scowl plastered on her face.

“Can’t sleep?” He teased.

“Don’t. I’m very sensitive.”

“Oh don’t I know it, remember when Fred and I tried to prank you with that faulty alarm clock.”

“I almost cut both your heads off.” She laughed, only now able to see the funny side of it, and sat beside the boy as he finished writing a letter.

“Good thing you didn’t, or else you’d have no date for the ball.” He smiled at her like he always had done, but paired with those words it felt so much more different.

She couldn’t hide her own smile if she wanted to, turning away a bit as she did.

“Angelina won’t shut up about it.” Y/n pulled the blanket over herself as George let her lay down on him, staring into the fire as it burned brightly.

“I’m sure she’s just over-excited.” He teased her.

“I got my dress by the way, so you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

“What’s it like?”

“You’ll find out at the ball nosey.” He nudged her shoulder, making her laugh ever so slightly. It made his heart swell, he loved being the one to make her smile.

They stayed like that as y/n began to drift off, George not wanting to move her, so he just stroked her hair lightly and let the fire burn out into the night.

When they woke up, it was morning and neither of them had moved from the common room sofa. Fred was shaking his brother awake with a yawn.

“Get her up, it’s late.” He grumbled and the boy just nodded, shaking y/n until she rose quietly.

-

A few days later, when y/n was coming back from the bathrooms with her hair freshly washed but still wet, she heard the true commotion of the Gryffindor girls preparing for the ball the next day. It was a flurry of face masks, nail varnish and teeth whitening strips.

“It came!!” Angelina screamed in joy, bursting into the dorm with a package almost as big as her. She had been worrying about whether or not her dress would arrive before the ball, after spending days trying to decide which one was perfect, but it had done so just in time.

She had barely had a chance to hang out with the twins lately, being too busy studying for her classes and helping Angelina sort out everything. Not having time to sit down for a meal when her homework had begun to pile up, so she sacrificed that time to make sure all her essays were completed in time.

Angelina had gathered a whole group of girls into their dorm to hang out, so y/n excused herself to the common room to paint her nails, not wanting to gas them all out with the fumes. To her relief it was empty, giving her some time to relax. It had struck her how nervous she actually felt about the ball now that it was close, she worried whether she could go the whole night with George before her feelings got the best of her.

She sighed and pulled a foot up to the sofa, reaching down to gently swipe the colour across her nails. The heat of the ever-burning fire helped to dry them off after each coat.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice from behind her teased.

Y/n turned around, smiling when she saw Fred and George coming from the hallways.

“There’s a slumber party going on up there, I’m staying well away!” She sighed, going back to her nails.

The boys took a seat nearby, still in their uniform. She squinted at them both for a second, only George cracking a small smile as she observed them.

“What have you been up to?” The girl accused.

“Nothing at all,” Fred blatantly lied.

“Tell me now.”

“We set off stink bombs in the Ravenclaw bathrooms,” George scoffed, unable to keep their classic prank a secret.

“You’re weak.” Fred complained, slumping further into the armchair.

“You two are like kids”

They stayed with her for a while, Fred quickly getting bored and going off to get changed. But George was a little longer, not wanting her to be on her own all night. He stayed silent as not to distract her, instead he just watched her concentrate. Maybe he had seen it the other night, maybe it had slipped his mind then, but he realised how much he appreciated her face.

How it lit up so much when she was happy, how it glowed in the sunlight. George also adored her without makeup on, not that he’d ever tell his brother that, but she was truly a natural beauty at its best. Wet hair, pyjamas and no makeup on. Yet he was suddenly realising how incredibly lucky he was that she even agreed to go to the ball with him.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, not looking up but now noticing his silence. Something he never did.

“Uh yeah fine,” He laughed it off. “I’m going up to bed.” She looked up, surprised but still sporting a smile as he stood up.

“Sleep well.” He nodded in response and fixed his hair slightly. “Oh and George.” He turned, now behind her on the sofa. She twisted around just a bit, not wanting to smudge her work. “Come here.” She grinned and he leant down, hesitantly.

The girl reached a hand up and ruffled his hair, a laugh spilling past her lips perfectly. George almost blushed like a little boy as she did it, quickly laughing it off and hurrying up to bed before y/n could notice just how flustered she made him.

-

If y/n had thought the previous night had been manic, then the night of the yule ball was an apocalypse. She’d heard every girl’s problems circulate through her dorm as she tried to do her makeup, a new one arising with every passing minute. She didn’t mind too much, not having to fix them she focused on herself and getting ready in time.

George was sitting in the common room, with a lot of the other Gryffindor boys who were waiting for their dates, fixing each other's robes and checking their hair in the few mirrors. He wasn’t focusing much, just watching his feet as people around him talked about something stupid. He was nervous now, just doing nothing. The footsteps were light, and he hadn’t noticed them until Fred nudged him.

“Look,” He whispered to his brother, nodding to the archway beneath the dorm room steps.

Y/n stood there, surprised to see so many faces staring back at her. All the boys in the room were shocked at her change of appearance, used to her being in the school’s uniform or just comfy clothes.

Now she had her hair perfectly curled past her shoulders, and that black dress fitted her perfectly. George thanked god silently in that moment that she had kept it a secret from him, because it was incredible.

She laughed lightly as her date stood up amongst the small crowd, quickly going over to take her hand. The noise resumed, conversation finally returning but the looks not stopping until they left the common room. Y/n’s heels sounded as she passed by them all, hand in hand with George who couldn’t have felt luckier in that moment.

“You look amazing by the way,” He beamed as they walked through the castle together towards the great hall, where already most of the school was dancing.

They danced for hours, the boy spinning her round over and over just to see that smile across her face when he did. Not that she could stop smiling, being with George made it so easy to forget about everything else in the world. She never wanted it to end.

“I like being with you y/n,” The tall boy had whispered to her while they danced slowly amongst other couples, she had rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed. Her throat froze up as she tried to reply calmly.

“I’m glad you asked me,” She answered, after a painstaking few seconds. Letting the boy release the breath he’d held since he’d uttered those words.

They danced in silence, a mutual understanding of their feelings spreading between the two. Fred and Angelina smiled over at them, both of them now knowing the truth as they saw their friends finally doing what had been hinted at over the years.

-

Once the dance was over, neith y/n nor George wanted to part ways. So the redhead snuck her out of the great hall, out of the castle and down to the black lake where they could spend just a little more time alone. It was late now, and the girl hoped that everyone would be too tired to come looking for them, maybe then she could stay with the Weasley boy all night.

Her dress was short and the night was cold, especially by the lulling water.

“Take this,” George took his dress robes off and wrapped them around the girl, his hands slowing as her face shone in the moonlight. She blushed at his gaze, making him laugh lightly. They sat by the water, the boy with his arms close around her as she still shivered only slightly. “We can go back if you’re too cold?” He offered, not sure why he was still whispering, but it calmed her.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/n reassured him. “I don’t want to go back yet,”

“Me neither.”

Hours passed as if they were fleeting seconds, ticking by without their knowledge until the sun began to rise and they laughed together. It peeked over the surrounding mountains, hitting them both with a blanket of warmth. She smiled up at George, her eyes glimmering perfectly. No matter how hard he tried, the boy couldn’t help but fall in love with her every time their eyes met.

She made him so brilliantly nervous, so much so that he longed for that moment she would smile or laugh because of him, and he’d forget how to breathe. That feeling in theory would scare George, but in practice it was the best thing he had ever felt.

Until y/n took that jump and reached up for him, her hands going to his face gently. That feeling of her undivided attention made him want to run into the lake with glee, as the girl's gentle lips hit his hard. He could feel that built up tension in her kiss, that she too had been wanting this as badly as himself.

George would later tell his brother that he could’ve died happy in that kiss, he would have let the girl stab him in the back if it meant she would press her lips to his just one last time. Which of course made Fred tease him endlessly, but he was in a daze over her.

But in the moment he took his chance, with the knowledge that it could be his only one, he kissed her with all the passion his body had. His arms wrapping tight around her waist as she ran her hands through his long hair, making him fight back a desperate whimper. The sweet taste of her felt like a drug upon George’s tongue as he held her closer by the second.

A cough from behind startled the pair, causing them to pull away, but the boy wouldn’t let go of y/n. Scared that she wouldn’t come back.

“Thought I’d find you sluts here,” Fred laughed, obviously drunk from whatever he’d been hiding in his robes all night. He squinted at the sun as he stumbled down the hill towards his brother and friend.

Y/n stood, her hand quickly slipping into George’s as she too didn’t want to let go just yet. His heart leaping bounds as she squeezed tight.

“Have you two been here all night?” Fred slurred, wobbling into his brother’s side. George propped him up and they walked up the hill towards the castle.

“Uh yeah sort of… have you been looking for us all night?” Y/n laughed as they reached the courtyard, letting the twins have a much needed rest on the stone wall.

“Angelina went off to bed so I went to find Dean and Lee for some drinks. The last thing I remember is Mcgonagall waking me up outside her classroom.”

“You slept outside transfigurations?” George scoffed, slightly out of breath.

“Must have,”

It seemed that more people had started waking up now, as Angelina appeared from the castle, running across the courtyard to see her friend.

“Darling!” Fred cried out, almost falling over his own feet. The girl just laughed and ignored him, George quickly telling y/n he’d see her later before dragging his brother away.

“So… you obviously never came back last night.” Angelina grinned, seeing her friend watch the redheaded boy she’d been with leave. She was still in her dress and heels with George’s robe over her shoulders.

“I’ll tell you about it once I’ve slept,”

“I bet you haven’t gotten any sleep you naughty thing!” “Lina! It wasn’t like that.” Y/n laughed, taking her best friend’s arm and heading up to their dorm.

-

After sleeping most of the day, she then found Angelina waiting excitedly on her bed for the girl to tell her every detail of the night. Once she was satisfied with the story the girl went downstairs, leaving y/n to wash up and wake up properly.

It was a sunday, and people were either still hungover like she had been or having to do last minute homework in the library. Luckily she’d prepared well and had the whole day to do as she pleased.

“Fred’s out like a light,” George laughed, making the girl look up from her book. She’d come down to the common room to sit by the fire, still cold from spending the night in a short dress and the boy’s thin robes, which she had yet to give back to him.

He came and sat beside her, smiling as she pushed her book away and gave him her full attention once again. The boy put an arm around her, letting her snuggle into his side as he had done all those nights ago.

“About this morning,” George started, feeling the girl in his arms tense a little “I’m sorry I didn’t make the first move.” Y/n went loose again, smiling up at him and shaking her head.

“I don’t care about that, I’m just glad you didn’t shove me away.” She joked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had the biggest thing for you, for what feels like forever now?”

“Really?” She squinted, watching his face for any falters.

“Oh ask Fred, if he ever wakes up from his coma, I’ve told him more than I can trust him with. All of it to do with you.”

The girl blushed again, just urging him to hold her closer.

“I’m glad that you kissed me y/n, I wish I had done it sooner but really… it was all perfect.”

“Thank you for taking me to the ball, and being my date, and for feeling the same way about me.”

The two kissed once again, their faces illuminated by the fire’s glow as it crackled lightly. Everything around them faded away as both George and y/n wandered whether it was just them left in the world. At least that’s what it felt like.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Fred came sloping down the stairs wrapped in a thick blanket. He had been calling for his brother for about ten minutes now, with no response. That was because the slightly older twin had put a silencing spell on the room, not wanting the sweaty creature he had once known as family to ruin any moment he could spare with y/n.

“I think i’m gonna vomit.” Fred announced from the bottom of the steps. His face pale and gaunt. George didn’t look over before he spoke.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” He laughed, presuming the twin was just poking fun. Y/n’s gasp at the sight before her, however, led him to believe differently.

“Oh he’s gonna puke alright.” She grimaced, getting up and rushing off before she witnessed anything more. “I’ll see you at dinner George!” She called back making him smile, even as she was escaping the grim sight of Fred she still wanted to see him later.

He would have remained blissfully ignorant in his thoughts of y/n, if it wasn’t for the sound of belching beside him that ripped him away from that happy moment.

[red-doll-face]

That last one about Michael was perfect!! I loved the new idea of the reader stumbling into the killer campground! Could I request an expanded idea on that scenario, but more so just a reader interacting with Anna, Michael, Danny, Evan, etc.? If that makes sense

I had to say, this was fun to write but I suck at characterization, I made everyone a little too nice but what else do we need in these trying times? I wasn’t sure if you meant like altogether, I might save something like that for a special event so I made little drabbles for each one I hope you like them!! Thanks @prophxtslash for the food fight idea 😂🥣

Warnings: nothing really bad. Just some food fights and palling around with the killers. 

Dead by Daylight Killers x gn Reader

Anna ‘The Huntress’

In the rare instances that survivors came across killers, sometimes, the killers couldn't break old habits. Mostly, the killers like The clown or even Freddy liked to bully survivors, only doing what felt natural, they claimed. But Doctor or Dr. Carter took a liking to tormenting survivors in and out of trials. Though, what he did could be classified as annoying rather than life-threatening, thus staying within the entity’s rule of being unable to harm survivors outside of the trial.

“Stop it!” You slapped at the man’s hand, touching along your arm and sending tingles that made it feel like your arm fell asleep. The little slap caused more pain than anything, accidentally brushing one of the live wires embedded in his skin. He giggles and grins around the mouthpiece that gaped his lips showing bloodied teeth. You were surprised he didn't drool all over everything.

“Leave me alone.” You whined, trying to walk away from him. You only came to see the Huntress, as she requested you make her a doll after seeing your interest in her mother's old craft supplies when you were in a trial against her. You observed the little balls of yarn and the needles tucked against a cabinet as she came in toting her ax. You turned, as she tilted her head at your curiosity. Afterward, she approached you with the items, handing them to you. Watching with glee as you began to weave the old fading yarn together.

Now, the Doctor, seeing the little doll in your hands, tried to take it from you. Unfortunately, for you, there was no else at the campfire today besides The Doctor who was here to see Evan who was not here, much like Anna. As the fog cleared up ahead, revealing the person you were waiting for, Dr. Carter took advantage of your distraction. He made for the doll sitting in your palms. A hatchet whizzed by and nearly clipped him, causing him to look up at her. She pushed him back with her mere presence, The Doctor unhappily leaving you alone, disappearing into the trees. She turned to you and you handed her her gift. Her lips pulled into a smile, squeezing at your hand and the present alike.

Michael ‘The Shape’ Myers

The only reason you liked him, he rationalized, was because you liked everyone. Perhaps, not everyone, but you could tolerate killers. When they acted decent enough. You liked the killers enough to come to visit him at this campsite, to catch anytime he lingered around with the rest of the killers. He didn’t like them but he couldn’t chance any of the killers becoming fascinated with you as he had. He sat rigidly on the log, breathing evenly, facing the fire. If you didn’t come, he’d recede into the fog again more than eager to leave the rest of the killers behind.

Like he had invoked you himself, you drifted in from the darkness, eyes settling on him. You shared a strange intrigue with each other, content to sit in silence with one another. You knew others thought it creepy or weird but no one had the courage to say it to Michael's face.

He should have known your friendliness exceeded just him. The man wearing the face of someone else approached you and you recognized him, letting him hold your hands and shake you around in something resembling a dance. You laughed and tried to calm him down, lest Michael become angered. He tilted his head as other killers gravitated around you, watching as you become uncomfortable around the burnt small one. He came close, unnoticed, listening as he uttered vulgar words to frighten you. You looked more uncomfortable than afraid.

The cannibal tugged you away from the pest in the sweater. Michael, having had enough of seeing you get tugged around like a coveted toy, shoved the burnt one out of his way, pulling you from the grip of the man with the yellow apron. You wrapped your arms around him, finding comfort in the midnight blue of his coveralls and the smell of autumn that clung to him. Michael took the key to his house from his pocket and threw it in the campfire, burning in the cold flames. The mist swallowed you both. He’d have you to himself. Michael was never the type to share.

Danny ‘The Ghostface’ Johnson

“Eat it!” You shoved a spoon at Danny, maskless today so you could try the fabled survivor pudding. You heard it was salty and gross. You didn’t really know who exactly made it and what it was for. Well, there was only one way to find out. Make Danny eat it. He refused, obviously. Keeping his mouth closed would not deter you.

“No way! Get that shit out of here.” He pushed it out of your hands and you choked on your own laughter watching half spill out of the bowl. You put some on the spoon and bent the weak plastic thing back. It sailed in the air only to splatter all over Danny’s face. He closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows as you covered your mouth in shock.

“I meant to miss that, I swear.” You tried to stop the laughter from coming out but it wasn't working. Your snickers turned into full-blown bellyaching guffaws as it dripped down his face. He spit out whatever made it into his mouth. He gagged and you shook and cried at his expression. He glared and threw some at you, watching as it oozed down the side of your cheek. You gasped and it was his turn to laugh in your face.

“So, you can dish it but you can’t handle a little pudding?” He mocked, taking a finger and scraping some off your cheek. He motioned to put it in your mouth and you slapped his hand away. You wiped it off and caught him by the sleeve, forcing him to stay still. You smeared it across his forehead, his hands trying to grab your wrists. He dumped some onto your lap and in retaliation you dumped the rest over his head, trickling onto the black leather of his Ghostface outfit.

“Oh my fucking god.” You said, your head hurting from the sheer hysterics you were in. Tears leaked from your eyes as the yellowish paste seeped into his hair. He got up and tried to catch you, slipping out of his arms and into the trees, giggling as the paste shook out of his hair.

Evan ‘The Trapper’ Macmillan

A man his age and size shouldn’t be doing this. He could almost hear his father’s condescending voice. It was a feminine pursuit, at best for emasculated men who were afraid of work. But here, no one cared what the methodical Trapper did in his spare time. Especially not the entity who only concerned itself with his ability to sacrifice the survivors. In his offtime, he liked to draw on the thin, brittle paper that was left on the estate and charcoal. He’d smudge lines this way and that until it looked at least a little like what was in his head. And if it didn't then he'd try again.

Currently, his favorite muse was sat on a rock, whispering to the Pig. Friends it seemed, talking quietly between themselves. You tilted your head and cracked a smile as she made a motion with her hand. He tried his best to capture the gleam of the fire in your eyes. The slope of your neck. The position of your legs. He went back to his drawing, unaware of Amanda's words in your ear.

“Yup. Look at him. He’s staring at you.” You smiled and leaned to hear her words, “Evan’s had his eye on you for what has it been? Is time a thing anymore?” You looked at him, his huge form hunched over a flat surface, fingers tinged black. “I think he’s drawing you. Let’s go see.” She hopped off the rock, dropping into a crouch. She motioned for you to follow and you both crept, following her lead. Amanda's specialty being her ambush, she was much quieter. When you both arrived unnoticed behind him, she pointed down at his drawing and nodded excitedly. It was you. Sitting on the rock you and Amanda were conversing on.

“Hey, that’s really good!” You said without thinking and Amanda facepalmed as you observed the drawing. The thin charcoal in Evans' hand snapped in two at the disruption. He turned slowly to see your warm face, eyes wide with admiration for his talent. He wished he had drawn that expression instead.

“Thanks.”

Sorry if u can’t actually crotchet or knit. If it makes u feel better, I can’t either. Thanks for reading and I hope u enjoyed it! 😳

[ren1327]

Sweater Weather Ch.7

Ben sipped the caldo slowly, enjoying the slight spiciness that seemed to warm him from inside out.

“This is really good.” He said and Carmen smiled.

Bumpy barked from beside him, eating some dogfood mixed with shredded chicken and broth from their soup.

“Kenji, I had no idea you could cook so well.” He praised.

Kenji blushed and smiled.

“I’m so glad you’re not actually sick!” Carmen said. “Now I can be as loud as I want!”

“Carm…”

“It’s fine, Kenji. Let her hang lose before we meet at the hotel.” Ben said, sipping his atole.

“You really like that.” Kenji remarked.

“It’s a corn drink. A corn drink.” Ben said. “With chocolate.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve never had a real tamale.” Carmen said. “Mama is gonna freak. We always make a bunch for New Year’s.”

“Like an assembly line.” Kenji said.

“Dad. Hates it.” Carmen said. “Doesn’t like sticky things, but he’s always on masa duty since his spreads are always so even.”

“He gotta work for his food.” Kenji said. “He eats the most aside from your truly.”

“How are you not overweight?” Ben asked, raising a brow.

“Fast metabolism plus weights and swimming.”

“Perfect body.” Ben scoffed. “Even have the perfect shape for a swimmer.”

Kenji blushed. “So, yeah! I can eat like, a dozen tamales myself!”

“I wish I could see it.” Ben said.

“Y’know Ben…” Carmen said with a smile. “You could stay past New Year’s.”

“I mean, I could, I don’t have much to do but stay on top of classes.” He said with a blush.

“So it’s settled!”

“What’s settled?” Ben asked.

“Carmen.” Kenji started before she hopped up and took hers and Bumpy’s empty bowels.

“Gonna walk Bumpy and go shower!” She called and Kenji sighed as Ben finished his rice.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I really like her and…” Ben shrugged. “I could stay.”

“Ben, you don’t have to feel—”

“I like it. I like your family and I like yo—” He snapped his mouth close. “I…”

Kenji walked around the table to kiss Ben’s cheek. “I like you too.”

“This doesn’t fix anything.” He said coyly, gently pushing him back as he stood.

“No, of course not.” Kenji said and hugged him close. “Sorry!”

He pulled away.

“I…”

“I’m not fragile, Kenji.” Ben said.

“But still, I use to shove you and your ex…”

“Is long gone.” Ben said. “But on the subject of exes?”

Kenji sighed. “Let me clean the dishes fist, okay?”

“Alright. Want me to wait in the living room?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there soon.” Kenji said and left him at the table.

 *

 Ben was poking at the fireplace when Kenji came in, the flames high and warming the room.

“Nice.” Kenji said. “I can never get it going.”

Ben smiled and sat on the sofa; Kenji next to him.

“So?” Ben asked.

“Right to it.” Kenji said with a grimace. “Okay. So…what do you want to know?”

“Brooklynn. What happened between you two?”

“Nothing.” Kenji said. “And I mean it how I say it. There was nothing.”

Ben blinked up at him.

“I really liked her, at first. We were more popular and well liked and we both thought we were attractive and…I did like her. We went out and for me…I just wanted a girlfriend to say I wasn’t single. Birthdays, holidays and just little anniversaries were fine and cute. And I liked things like kissing and being held but then, on our one year…she said I love you.” He stared at the fire. “And I couldn’t say it back.”

He closed his eyes and say her. Young and smiling, her green eyes widening as she realized he wasn’t answering.

“It’s okay.” She said. “You don’t have to say it yet.”

“And then we had sex. We were each other’s first and to me it was like ticking a box of things I had done and she said it again and I…I lied to her.” Kenji whispered. “I think she could tell. But she couldn’t handle it. She kept smiling and hugging and kissing me. She would tell me everything and we would talk but I never really…I never opened myself like she did.”

��“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“…okay. What do you want for dinner?”

 “Our second anniversary came up and she wanted us to get our own place together and go to the same university…I didn’t.”

 “Why don’t you want to go with me? They have an athletics department. Or engineering…whatever you chose, I’m sure they would have something for you to work on your career.”

“I don’t want to leave Carmen.”

“Okay. But if we go t Hammond U together, we could get our own place a-and maybe—”

“Brooklynn, I don’t want to go to Hammond U.” Kenji snapped. “Please stop asking me.”

“Kenji, I want to go!”

“Then go!” He yelled. “We have cell phones, and I can go visit! Why is this such a big deal?”

“…We’ve been a couple for two years. Don’t you want to be with me?” She asked. “Don’t you want to get married and have a family after all this?”

Kenji bit his lip and swallowed.

“Oh my god…You…you settled with me. You don’t love me; you love having a girlfriend!” She yelled, face red, too red around the cheeks. “I can’t believe…”

“Brooklynn, I do care about you—”

“Do you want to marry me?” She asked, eyes filling with tears. “Because I want to marry you.”

“I…I don’t know…”

“Kenji, why are you with me if you don’t want a future with me?” She asked and he couldn’t answer.

“I’m sorry…” He said, feeling like she was the wrong height, her face too sharp, her eyes too green. She wasn’t who he wanted to wake up next to. And she could see it in his face.

“No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so desperate to be with you, I never cared about myself. Well, I know better. You will never love me. Not how I love you.”

She sobbed and took off her rings, the necklace he got her for her birthday and her charm bracelet.

“No, keep them—” Kenji begged.

“I don’t need things!” She yelled. “I needed…I needed a boyfriend. Get out of my apartment.”

Kenji took them with shaking hands.

“I’m sorry—”

“Get out!!” She yelled.

 “And I left…” Kenji said. “I grabbed my things and drove to the airport. I was going to go back to Seattle and settle in the cabin for a bit, but I just chose the next flight out of Cali. And I ended up in India. Took out as much cash as I could carry safely and found one of those spiritual retreats all those people with mid life crisis take. I didn’t take it seriously enough and so I bummed around a community of hipsters from the US. Did some work there, ran out of money, used the last to get home after four months of ignoring everything around me.”

“And now?” Ben asked.

“I…” Kenji’s voice cracked, and he chuckled, tears gathering as he licked his lips and looked into the flames. “I don’t like…me.”

Ben turned to him as Kenji used his shirt collar to wipe his face.

“I don’t like who I was, who I am. I just…I hurt everyone. I hurt you, I hurt Brooklyn and being away from Carmen hurt her too and I…” He sniffed. “I don’t know how to fix me, so I don’t hurt anyone again.”

“I think you’re doing pretty great right now.” Ben said and Kenji scoffed.

“It took balls to come back and come see your family and admit what you did.” Ben said. “Being honest is one of the bravest first steps someone can take with themselves.”

“So says the fake boyfriend.”

“So says the real friend.” Ben retorted and took Kenji’s jaw in his hands. “I am your friend Kenji. And I hated who you were, but…I really like who you’re becoming.”

“And who am I becoming?” Kenji whispered.

“Real.” Ben said and hugged him tightly. “Now cry it out.”

Kenji sniffed. “I’m gonna snot up your shirt.”

“I can steal one of yours.” Ben said and Kenji laughed.

“It’s okay, Kenji.” Ben said. “You can become better.”

“Thank you.” Kenji whispered and sobbed.  “Thank you.”

 *

 Kenji drank down the last of his water, his eyes puffy and red as Ben came back in one of his old sweaters.

“How are you feeling?” Ben asked.

“Like my head is full of buzzing bees.”

“You cried a lot. Food can help.” Ben said.

“Dessert is in the fridge. The chocolate in the ceramic bowls.”

“Okay.” Ben said and left, only to return with two bowls and two spoons, both with a heavy amount of whipped cream on top.

“Carmen must have gotten to them earlier.” Kenji said, noting how stiff the whipped cream looked.

“Pudding?”

“More of a chocolate custard. Pots de Crème. Made with Mexican chocolate.” Kenji said.

“How are you not a chef?” Ben asked.

“Don’t like being told what to do.” Kenji said.

“Not true. I boss you around plenty.” Ben joked. “But for now, I suppose I can cater to you. What do you want right now?”

“Feed me chocolate and tell me I’m pretty?” Kenji asked and Ben burst out laughing.

Kenji sat up and took a bowl.

“What would you do, if you could do anything?” Ben asked with a smile.

“Anything?” Kenji asked. “Geeze…um…I don’t know. What could I do with my limited repertoire?”

“Model.” Ben said with a shrug. “Cook. Um, maybe be an interpreter. Or even an actor.”

“Really settling in my looks.” Kenji teased.

“They’re good looks.” Ben said.

“Thank you, but these are only for my fake boyfriend—”

“Oh my gosh, this is so good!” Ben exclaimed around a mouth of custard.

“Uh…it is?” Kenji asked. “I mean, of course it is!”

“Kenji, you have a gift.” Ben said as he took another bite.

“Well, if your bookstore has a café, I can…can always help out there.” Kenji said with a blush.

Ben looked up at him with wide eyes and Kenji felt his heart hit his ribs.

“You would…you would be okay working with me?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. I could observe too. Maybe we could make the back area a café and have the study rooms and computer lab area around there too.” Kenji said.

“Y-Yeah!” Ben said. “The front desk could be a resource area too.”

“Lots of pamphlets!”

“Yeah, and if possible, we can have an open area in the back. Like a community garden.”

“I think maybe a small area with benches and a fountain?” Kenji asked. “We could get another  area or build a small kitchen and indoor dining area. I was thinking two stories, but I think I saw a building with some land near downtown San Antonio—”

“San Antonio?” Ben asked.

“Unless you want to stay in Cali.”

“No, it’s just…I thought you’d be more okay with being in Cali.” Ben said.

“You want San Antonio.” Kenji said. “So I can settle there since we have a little place there too. The downtown area would be best anyway. And I know there’s more kids who need help there.”

Ben smiled and took another bite. “Settle?”

“Settle with the house. I want to work with you, Ben. I want to help the kids who are hurting. Maybe we could help the ones who hurt them too.” Kenji said.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Ben said and put his empty bowl on the side table.

Kenji put his own bowl down and smiled, pulling the other close, Ben resting his head on Kenji’s shoulder.

“And would you settle with someone?”

“No. I’d date someone I know I could love.”

“And how could you tell?” Ben asked.

“Can’t you?” He asked and Ben blushed when he placed a hand on Kenji’s chest, feeling the thud of his heart.

Ben looked up at him and Kenji’s eyes met his. He pulled Ben into another kiss, the smaller man climbing onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Kenji pulled away and rested his forehead against Ben’s before chuckling.

“What?” Ben asked.

“You taste like chocolate.” Kenji said and kissed him quickly.

Ben laughed and laid his head on Kenji’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

“I don’t either.” Kenji said. “Hey, Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you, date me?” Kenji asked.

Ben pulled away, face pink with his blush. “I... you…”

He laughed and covered his mouth.

“Okay. Okay.” He said. “I like you too, Kenji. Let’s do it. Let’s date.”

“And?” Kenji asked.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Maybe we can be boyfriends.”

“Yes!” Kenji said, pumping his fist.

“You’re such a dork.”

“You like this dork.”

“I do.” Ben said with a laugh and kissed Kenji again.

[writerbee-ffs]

Here it was ... your birthday. Although most would probably be receiving birthday calls and gift or even figuring out what club they were about to hit up, you were most definitely getting ready for work. Out of all the places you could be you just had to take this last minute client for a photo shoot that your manager insisted on.

“So you weren’t playing about going to work today?” Your boyfriend, Michael, asked watching you scramble around the room for your clothes.

“Bakari, I made it clear that I had to work. What should I do quit my job just because it’s my birthday?” Your voice was laced with an attitude as you buttoned the Fashion Nova high waist jeans up. Partly because you knew Michael had been ready to argue about this since your manager, Latavia, called you and told you about the exclusive shoot that would help build your rapport. The other part was because YOU were the one working on YOUR birthday. You were 26 years old and was very capable of making your own fucking decisions.

“I mean you could, Y/N.” “I told you I got u-“

“And I definitely told you I didn’t need you taking care of me with your money, Michael.” You asserted yourself. This was an argument you both had always had. Him wanting you to not work or at least not as hard. Then you letting him know that you wouldn’t just live off of him just because he was a famous actor and your boyfriend of 4 years.

“It’s not about the fucking money but you know what happy birthday.” Rising from the bed he tossed a black jewelry box on the bed and made his exit.

“Really? Jellybean head ass niggah.” You mumbled not even bothering with the box because you knew it would only piss you off further because of how he just tossed it. “Yeah... happy fucking birthday, bitch.” You sighed taking a swig of Red Berry Ciroc before walking out of the door.

*******************************************************

‘A$AP fuckin’ Rocky.’ You thought as you walked into the shoot. Your manager had definitely made your birthday with this Calvin Klein ad.

“This is your gift.” Latavia smiled watching you set up your camera. “I know you’re in love with him.” She chuckled. “I mean aside from Michael Bae Jordan.”

“Well Bae is definitely mad and being childish but this definitely makes up for it.” You smiled sinisterly as you watched Rocky pull the CK jeans over the slim fit boxers. “Definitely.” Catching a glimpse of his print.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, Y/N.” She called back typing on her phone.

“What’s good?” He smiled at you before sitting on the gold ol’ skool bike.

“Hey. I’m Y/N. Ready to get started?” You smiled showing casing your pearly whites as you placed you curly hair into a high pineapple.

Nodding quickly, Rocky did slight poses as your camera clicked and flashed. Star struck wasn’t the word you were more like beauty struck. This man was chocolate, beautiful, in shape , nice smile and once more beautiful as hell. You definitely remembered the crush you had on him pre-Michael Bae Jordan.

“Like what you see or sum?” He smirked as you realized you had been staring more than you had been shooting. “‘Cuz I definitely see sum’ I like.” He was flirting and you couldn’t help but to do the same.

“Uh just making sure you’re in the right light.“ “Can’t have all that chocolate looking washed out.” You smirked allowing him to see some of the shots. He had pulled you into his embrace as he looked over your shoulder at the pictures.

“Oh you’re real deal?” He chuckled licking over his lips. “I told my manager to find me a pretty lil ass women to snap my shit. Figured they just had you here to satisfy me.” His devilish grin set in as he whispered in your ear. “But now that I know you good at your job I’m definitely pleased.”

“Well I aim to plea-“ Hearing your phone sound off, you immediately snapped out of your flirtation and apologized for the phone interruption. “What?” You snapped quietly.

“Are you done?” He questioned. His voice was relaxed meaning he wasn’t mad anymore which ultimately made you feel guilty and pissed you off.

“Jus-Just a few more shoots.” You mumbled letting the guilt set in.

“I’ll see you at home.”

Hearing the beeps in your ear, you’d realized that he had hung up on you. Yeah you had definitely fucked up. ‘Happy fucking birthday.’ You thought.

*******************************************************

Although you had stayed 3 extra hours after talking to Mike, you had cut you shoot short due to your guilt. Yeah all you did was do a tad bit of flirting but you had a man at home. A famous fine ass sweet ass loving ass man at home.

“Baby?” You yelled as you open the door of your shared home. “Mi-“ Seeing the black balloons in the air, the dim lit room and the soft r&b play in the background, you broke down. You had seen the wine set out in melted ice, cupcakes from you favorite bakery and that’s when you knew you had really fucked up.

“5 hours Y/N?” His voice had scared you straight. Your tears had been slowly drying up. “5 hours to take some damn pictures?”

“Baby, I’m sorry. This is beautiful. I love you! I missed you!” You fired off as he moved towards you. His eyes were trained on you and you dared not to move as he circled around you. Something was off about Mike and you couldn’t tell what. Maybe you had real pissed him off this time especially since you could smell a hint of liquor on his breath.

“Put this on and go wait for me.” Michael had handed you a long black garment box with a red ribbon before you made your walk of shame to the bedroom.

Pulling your work clothes off you figured a shower wouldn’t hurt considering he was already upset and it was your fucking birthday. “Get your shit together, Y/N.” You coached as you looked at yourself in the lacy black lingerie. Between your breast almost popping out of the deep low v cut, your ass hanging out of the back and the thin fabric leaving nothing to the imagination, you were completely surprised by Michael’s choice. You styled your kinky coils a bit before walking out of the bathroom.

Michael was already in the bedroom waiting for you. “Took you long enough.” He smirked shocking you. “You had me waiting so on your knees.” You didn’t know what had came over him but you actually liked it. ‘Maybe you should piss him off more.’ You thought. Scrambling to your knees, you felt Mike behind you with a piece of fabric. “Close yah eyes.” He coached shielding your eyes then tying your hands.

Hearing a clicking noise, your became nervous. Yeah you trusted Mike but this wasn’t the Mike you were use to. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He touched your cheek before stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “You been playing with me.” He spoke cupping your neck. “Testing me. You like testing me?” He asked applying pressure and slipping two of his thick fingers inside of your one piece rubbing you clit slightly.

You hadn’t spoke. Partly because you were becoming turned on and also because he was starting to apply too much pressure.

“Answer Daddy.”’

“Ye-ye-yes.”’ You let out softly.

“Yes what?” He was so close to your eat that you could feel the breath and smell the Ciroc.

“Yes Daddy.” You mumbled feeling his tongue drag from your ear to your neck. Sucking on your tender spot you began to moan. Feeling his hand travel down to your breast, you couldn’t help but to halt your breathing as he pinched you right nipple through the thin lace. The fingers on his other hand slight pinched and rubbed your clit even more.

“Stand.” He commanded still caressing your nipple. You felt his fingers off of your nipple and your clit but instead peeling the lingerie off of your body. “Wet already?” You could sense the smirk on his face which only made things more interesting and irritated the hell out of you because you couldn’t see a thing.

Once again you could hear clicks in front of you as you stood there naked and tied up. “Daddy, what’s that?” You mumbled.

“Back on your knees.” He commanded disregarding your question. “Open your mouth.”

Licking your lips you felt the tip of his dick near the corner. You’d always loved giving your man head but honestly you would get off yourself if you could watch the satisfaction on his face. “Daddy can I watch?” You ask completely ready to get your man and yourself to cum.

“Nah.” He chuckled. “Punishment baby girl.”

“But-“ His dick had completely caught you off guard entering your mouth mid sentence. You wrapped your lips around your man’s girthy member allowing your tongue to do most of the work since you were still tied up. Swirling it around from the base to the tip, you had started to become wet all over again.

“Fuck.” He mumbled as your head bobbed up and down taking him all in relaxing your throat. You were forming a trail of spit on the corners of your mouth and you could care less. The sloppier the better. “Keep that up, baby girl.” He moaned slightly which only fueled you to go harder. He’d palmed the back of your head fucking your throat. You were gagging and could barely breath but if you died ... so be it! Popping your lips from his dick you started to give attention to his balls. Licking them before placing them in your mouth and sucking slightly swirling your tongue around them. His breath had halted at the sensation.

“Nut Daddy.” You encouraged as you went back to giving all you attention to his rock hard dick. Your tied wrist that hung in front of you found their way to your dripping center. “Please.” You begged wanting to taste your man’s kids hit the back of your throat as you began playing with yourself. Finally feeling him twitch and the warm liquid mix with your spit, you gladly took all your man’s warm seeds down your throat sending yourself into an orgasmic frenzy. “I love you.” You called out feeling him guide you towards the plush California king bed.

“Love you too, ma.” You could feel him pushing your face into the bed while your bare ass sat up in the air allowing the cool air to hit the wetness between your legs. “Arch that back, Y/N.” He spoke sending a small smack to your pussy.

“Fuck!” You hissed out in slight pain. Two of his thick fingers had found there way to your center slipping into it to call down the stinging sensation.

“When I tell you some shit you gon listen?” He questioned pumping in and out of you faster and using his thumb to vibrate on your clit. You couldn’t speak due to the upcoming orgasm. You went to move your hips attempting to throw your as back on his fingers. “Answer me!” He snapped pulling them out and giving you right cheek a harder slap. “When I tell you not to go to fucking work, are you going?” He’d smacked your left cheek.

“No!” You cried out wanting to feel him anywhere on you. You were literally crying real tears from the pain and pleasure. “I’ll stay home, baby!” You moaned as you heard the clicking noise again.

“Good girl.” His plump lips had began to kiss you center before his tongue attacked your wetness. You spread your legs further allowing his tongue to slip inside of you before you began to throw it back against your man’s tongue.

“Yes Daddy! Fuck me baby. PLEASE!” You begged as your covered eyes rolled to the back of your head and the tears formed again. He had added two fingers along with his tongue. “Damnit!” You grunted as your legs shook violently before cumming. “Ssss-stop, Daddy.” You begged as he continued to devour you through your orgasm. “I’m cummin’.

“Shit.” He groaned taking the blindfold from your eyes. Your eyes were still closed as he kissed you viciously allowing you to taste your own sweetness.

Your eyes adjusted to the light as he pulled away from you. He was staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen but you were most definitely sure that your eye makeup was ruined especially your mascara from the tears of pleasure. Looking over at Michael his mustache and lips were glistening from your juices. “Smile.” He smirked holding up the Polaroid camera as the familiar clicks sounded off.

“You’ve been taking my picture? You questioned as he untied your wrist looking at all the pictures of you on the bed.

“That’s all you cared about earlier. Getting them fucking pictures done.” He scoffed tapping on your thigh. “So why not see what was so interesting in doing that shit.” He smirked taking another photo of his fingers slipping again into your wetness.

“Shit.” You mumbled as the cameras clicks went off. “Lemme see.” Your eyes twinkled taking the camera from him. You had started to snap a few of your man before placing the camera on the edge of the bed setting it to the multiple shot self timer. “Fuck me.” You spoke flipping again on your stomach arching your back so your ass was in the air.

Aligning himself with your entrance, Michael slipped into your wetness fully with ease. “Wet as fuck.” He commented as he began to stroke inside of you. Between your man’s dick and the clicks of the camera you wanted to put on the ultimate show so you could remember this night although you knew your legs would for the next couple of days.

“Faster baby!” You yelled throwing your ass back again attempting to follow Michael’s rhythm as he began to fuck you senseless.

Feeling the smacks your ass cheeks then your hair being gripped the tears were coming down again. “Shit!” You cried tightening your walls against his dick. “I love you, Michael! I love you.” You had attempted to take control but ultimately failed as you collapsed on the bed letting your juices leak from your sore throbbing center. “Cum inside of me...” You moaned. “Please.”

Hearing the curse words under his breath, Michael grabbed your neck giving it light squeeze thrusting harder inside of you. You could tell he was on edge and you wanted nothing more than your man emptying the contents of his dick inside of you. Did you want kids right now... no but you would deal with the consequences later. Today was your birthday and right now you were 26 and invincible. “Open your mouth.” He groaned attempt to slip out of your pussy because he knew it was just the sex talking all that ‘come inside of me’ bullshit.

“No!” You demanded tightening around him biting your lips. “Inside of me, Daddy.” “I want your kids ... I want you.” You reasoned crying out as he groaned honoring your request.

“Love me enough to marry me?” He asked sleepily biting then kissing your shoulder as he cuddled against your body to weak to pull out.

Tensing up, you slipped from under him before looking at him in the eyes. “What?” “What did you say?”

“Marry me, Y/N.” Pulling the black box from this morning out of his nightstand, he looked at you seriously.

You were stunned. Leave it to Michael to not only give you great birthday dick but to ask you to marry him afterwards. “I-ye-wait. What?!“ You were crying and tripping over your words. You’d jumped off the bed realizing your legs were jelly.

“Y/N, tell me something baby.” He pulled you back into the bed with him.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head frantically. “YES! Yes I’ll marry you.” You cried kissing him. “I’ll be your wife.”

“I love you. Happy birthday, baby girl.”

“I love you too.”

‘Happy fucking birthday indeed.’ You thought cuddling up to your fiancé.

[lizzieraindrops]

Your chance to make the sun rise thrice (Chapter 2)

a river that still runs (8803 words)

Beth Childs has come to Helsinki to meet her best friend Veera for the first time in the Herbs on the windowsill universe, an alternate timeline where the original Helsinki massacre was prevented and DYAD routed by Clone Club Alpha’s successful publicity stunt back in 2001. Veera Suominen and Niki Lintula survived and decided to live in a little apartment together as qpp’s. Numerous Leda clones worldwide are now in contact via a secure online network that Veera maintains. 

Note: This chapter is a bit heavier than the rest of the AU. Beth is still struggling with a lot of the same challenges in this universe, even if the events causing them are somewhat different because of such early canon divergence. But the whole point of this story is that things can end up okay no matter how rough it's been. She's getting the help she needs and she's gonna be alright. That said, warning for soft discussion of past abuse, the effects of trauma, depression and anxiety, and some suicidal ideation. And of course, lots of love and learning how to heal, with support from her best friend.

Fun fact: Veera's username is 3mika, and she always sets her font to the precise warm turquoise of hex color #2299aa. She thinks she's hilarious, and she's right. 

Also on AO3  |  Playlist  |  Aesthetic sideblog

Part 1: Herbs on the windowsill

Part 2: Someday colors

Part 3: Your chance to make the sun rise thrice  |  Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3

***

Beth wakes on a squashy couch that isn't hers. Morning-soft sunlight pours through the window above her, bouncing back off the walls to fill even the shady corners with a warm secondhand glow. Her limbs are soft, splayed under unfamiliar blankets and sinking into the cushions. She doesn't move yet.

The apartment. Helsinki. Beth's really here. She holds herself still, letting the truth sink into her. She half expects the usual anxious tension to clench her into a ball the instant she moves a muscle, but it isn't there. Neither is the invisible weight that so often pins her immobile. She still wakes frequently with both of them holding her body hostage, keeping her muscles unmoving but restless, even in sleep. Right now though, they're gone. She just lies there, soft beneath the window.

It's quiet but not silent. The occasional car on the little road outside chuckles as it passes. A soft rush of water echoes through pipes in the walls, running toward an early riser in another unit. These sounds fall strangely on Beth's Toronto-bred ears, isolated in the stillness of this of this little apartment on the outskirts of the city. Still, the early-morning atmosphere settles comfortably into her jet-lagged bones, murmuring a rhythm for her to sink into. The temporal upheaval of a transcontinental red-eye and a series of exhausted naps yesterday have left her a little unbalanced. And yet, here she is waking up with the day, and the ground under her feels so much more stable than she’s used to.

Beth breaks her stillness with a deep, deep breath that she can feel expanding all the way down to her feet. She stretches, too, but soon pulls the toes that get exposed back underneath the warm, scratchy blanket. The cushions of the old couch creak a little in complaint as she shifts, but her limbs remain supple. For a time, she just observes the sensations. Then, her awareness spreads beyond the couch and the window to the rest of the room.

All around her, an oddly blocky pattern covers the walls. It's one of the first things she noticed when she walked into the apartment yesterday afternoon. The pattern isn't wallpaper like it appears at first glance, but actually a multitude of small photographs. Most of them are unframed, but taped up in crisply aligned rows. In them, she sees the same face infused with a hundred different lives. Just above her, a sleeping, slack-jawed redhead with bulky headphones around her neck sprawls on the very same couch Beth's laying on now. A few rows down, a brunette and a blonde with their long hair in matching wild waves are leaning all over each other and grinning like devils. One of the few framed photos shows a girl with a hospital-short buzz cut and a delighted expression, sitting in front of what looks like a mouthwatering strawberry shortcake. Beth can see at least six others in the background behind strawberry girl. Among them are Mika with her unmistakable scars and Niki with her bright blonde hair, their arms around each other's shoulders.

Morning light glances off the glossy surfaces of the photos on the west wall. The particularly bright reflection off one of the framed photos draws Beth's eye. With a tiny jolt, Beth recognizes one of her own selfies beneath the glass. In it, she's wearing the same old turquoise blue sweatshirt that's spilling out of her suitcase next to the couch right now. Underneath it, she's wearing her track gear, so the photo is at least two years old. She'd had to quit cross-country so she could try to get the shitshow her life had become under control. She vaguely recalls sending it to Mika a long time ago. It's strange to think that her presence has been in this apartment for so long.

She's here. In Finland. Staying with Mika – Mika - and Niki. Far, far away from everything.

Sprawling on the couch she slept on with a sigh as if she hadn’t a care in the world, Beth can't believe she's really gone and done it. She's run so far away that there's an ocean between her and her problems. It’s so much better than she's dreamed, even if it's only for a little while. It’s worth it, even though she'll be going back far too soon. For the first time in years, it feels like she’s where she’s supposed to be right now.

It had all started out as foolish idea she'd floated one Saturday morning, months ago. She hadn't been serious at all. She'd woken up so relieved at not having to get up and go to work, until she remembered her weekly therapy appointment with a hopeless groan.

Putting off the genuinely daunting prospect of hauling herself out of bed, she reached out to snag her phone from on top of her dresser, checking to see if she'd heard from Mika overnight. After all, Helsinki was nine hours ahead, so Mika had already seen most of the day that was just beginning for Beth. They talked so often these days, since they'd first made contact over two years ago. Rarely a day passed without touching base. But there wasn’t anything since Beth had checked last night. She took it upon herself to send the first message of the day.

runwaterblue: god, i dont wanna get up and deal with any of thsi shit today

After her world fell apart, after finding out about Project Leda, after realizing that all her nightmares and more were real, after her father...

runwaterblue: wish i could come visit u and get away form everything for awhile

Mika replied almost immediately.

3mika: you can

It was evening in her time zone, but to be honest, Beth had no idea if she had anything resembling a regular sleep schedule. The girl was always online.

3mika: though you really should go to your appointment. you always feel better afterward

runwaterblue: howd you know i have therapy today

3mika: you always have an appointment saturday afternoons

runwaterblue: yes but how do you remember that? i cant evne remember my own appts lmao

3mika: you mentioned it months ago when you switched from sundays to saturdays

Beth shook her head with a smile. Mika was so good with details.

3mika: anyway. you’re welcome here, if you can get here

3mika:  it would be great to see you

3mika: Niki wouldn't mind. we've had a bunch of Ledas visit us here, it's always fun

3mika: except that one time Dani and Ary got into a fight over football. some French-Italian team rivalry thing. that was not fun.

Beth laughed. It was funny how Mika was so good at making her do that, even on days like these. She leaned back against her pillow and held her phone over her head without sitting up, being careful not to drop it on her own face. She'd done that before. More times than she'd admit.

runwaterblue: i was kidding. id love to visit, but idk how id get there

runwaterblue: u should see the americans go off abt their football lmao. they're nerly as bad as the hockey freaks here

3mika: pls no

3mika: no more sports. it was a year ago and I’m still exhausted

3mika: sports are banned in this apartment.

Beth snorted. Mika wanted nothing to do with sports of any kind, and with Beth's athletic record, the topic had become a point of mutual teasing between them.

In so many ways, they were such different people, DNA be damned. Mika was reticent where Beth was outgoing. (Or at least, Beth had been. She was never quite sure how to think of herself these days.) Clone drama aside, Beth had been a pretty average Canadian high schooler. She got reasonable grades, played a few sports, and kept mostly out of trouble because there would be hell to pay if she didn’t. Mika was a brilliant homeschooled autistic orphan who had been raised in near isolation by her guardian after surviving the hospital fire that marked her skin for life. Beth mostly listened to pop music, and where no one else could hear, the occasional classical symphony. Mika held fast to Finland's weird obsession with death metal and dabbled in literally everything else.

And yet, Mika understands Beth like no one else does. And it's not just because they've both been through all this Project Leda bullshit. Though Beth doesn't know what she would have done without Mika to help her through that, too.

Beth won't ever be able to forget the moment that everything changed. Recognizing a her own face from the mirror on the evening news stopped her in her tracks, as something in her gut caved in with the hollow certainty that it wasn't her. Then face after face flickered before her, a flipbook barrage of déja vu. Blonde and smiling. Scarred and pensive. Braids and piercings and a rakish grin. Beth was rooted in place as people she had never been wearing things she had never worn said things she was never supposed to know.

That utter strangeness on the screen immediately seeped into her life like an oil slick into a river, tainting every thing she thought she knew with clinging uncertainty. Her father was inexplicably even more upset about it than Beth was, yet adamant that they shouldn't look into the matter. But it was already too late to stop herself from thinking. With slow horror, the truth of what exactly his behavior must mean dawned on her. And yet, even with the desperate growing certainty about who her Leda monitor must be, it was hard to believe that he could be anything other than her plain stern father.

He was always a bit strict and overprotective - probably well more than a bit, she realizes these days. But she’d thought that's just what it was like to be a cop's daughter. He'd never done anything really extreme, nothing beyond the firm discipline any kid could expect. He was just not a man to be trifled with, that was all. So until everything she thought she knew shifted that day and threatened to topple every assumption she’d built her life on, she had never truly dared to cross him.

Outright daring him to say to her face that he wasn't her monitor was probably considered a step beyond trifling. He did not take it kindly.

Two months later, Beth and her mother were living in an apartment on the opposite side of the city. It took two months for the two of them to lay plans to leave together, for good. For two months, her every move was watched. She spent two months knowing there would be hell to pay if she didn't give the performance of a lifetime pretending everything was fine, even while sirens blared inside her day and night. Two months was more than enough to teach her things she never wanted to know about the hidden marks fear leaves on the body.

Even after she finally escaped, her life was in tatters and nothing made sense. It wasn’t just the sudden jarring discovery of Project Leda, or the crisis it had forced her to confront. It was learning that, deep down, she had known that she’d never once felt free. She’d unconsciously kept herself from knowing to avoid exactly that conflict of wills that she’d known she would lose.

Trying to come to terms with what had happened and how it changed everything, Beth was continuously losing her balance. Questioning which parts of her life had been screwed over by her father and which by being part of some ridiculous supervillain science experiment was like trying to stand on two kickboards in a pool. She couldn't find her footing, and all she could do was try and stay afloat. She had to repeat her whole junior year of high school that she lost to this shitshow, while starting over at a new school, and only barely scraped her way into senior year. Now that she knew how honestly terrible she'd been at judging who in her life she could trust, it was as hard to talk to old friends as it was to make new ones.

Therapy helped her start sorting out what she was feeling, and how the environment she’d grown up in was really not the healthiest. She hadn’t realized how much she’d learned to doubt her own perceptions. That made constructing any kind of new understanding of her situation an uphill struggle. And of course, her therapist couldn’t help her confirm anything about a human experiment that was so illegal it had been an international secret. As she continued to stumble forward, Beth even started doubting her former certainty of the identity of her Leda monitor. She questioned herself and everything she knew until she wanted to scream with frustration or weep with confusion. The floor of the counselor’s office could have been mopped with her tears. It was, quite literally, driving her mad.

So, finally, Beth had taken up the invitation on the banner of every Leda news feature to "Contact the secure, clone-run Clone Youth Group Network (CYGNet) for answers by emailing info@cygnet.org."

She wanted something concrete that would help convince her brain to stop reenacting these head games that warped her reality. It still insisted on playing through the patterns it had been taught, even in its teacher’s absence. She needed something that could brace her against the ideas that she was really just paranoid, overreacting, accusing, that this was all her fault for making a big deal out of nothing. Even with his other faults (cruelties, her mind whispered) aside, at least his involvement with Project Leda was unforgivable, and she wanted proof of it. Maybe if she had that, she could stop being mad at herself for not wanting to forgive. And if anyone had that proof, CYGNet would.

Maybe it was just because of the sheer blunt honesty about her motives, or the inescapable vulnerability of the message Beth sent, but Mika had replied to her within a day. And she'd been so gentle about it, too, enough to make Beth later question where the stereotype of autistic brashness came from. Then again, over email, Mika had all the time she needed to compose her thoughts and lay them out as softly as she wanted. She didn't have to spit them out as fast as she could to keep pace with a quick and painfully overwhelming world.

Hi Beth Childs,

I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. I still don't know how they got away with doing things like this for so long. I suppose people will always find ways to be cruel. But we've survived this long, and the whole point of CYGNet is to help us all heal. The experimental network has been dismantled, and we are assembling resources to help us. We've brought mental health professionals on to the project to develop custom programs for our needs. We can make them available to you, if you are interested.

I attached scans of some of your files that we recovered from DYAD. There are a few case reports with the signature of the person you asked about, spaced throughout your lifetime. There are also financial records with his name in the list of paid employees. He was without a doubt part of the Leda monitor program. I can provide all of the documentation that we have related to you, if you like, but I thought that would be too much all at once. I know these are hard to look at, but I hope they help let your mind rest. They are very real, and every awful thing we have experienced was also real, no matter how they tried to convince everyone that we were making it all up.

Please take your time with these, and stay in contact if you want to. You can join our mailing list, if you want to know when we have new information or new resources available. We're here for you.

And hey, if you just want to talk to someone who knows what it's like to deal with all of this, I'm here, too. You can reach my personal inbox or IM me at wiz.of.dos@cygnet.org. It'll be okay.

-Veera

Beth had started crying before she even finished reading the letter, much less opened the attachments. She cried so often these days. She only knew why half the time. But this time, it felt like the tears were extracting some of her pain as they left her, instead of just overflowing from the unending wellspring of her directionless distress. All of this was real, and someone else knew it.

Though she was grateful beyond measure for her mother’s untiring support, they were each other’s too-close, ever-present reminders of what they’d survived, trying to act like they weren’t, trying to convince each other and themselves that they were okay. Beth had needed something else, too, something until now unnamed.

This was a handhold, a backstop Beth didn't know she'd been desperate to find. It wasn't just the confirmation of what she’d concluded about her father. The ability speak plainly to someone she didn't feel the need to pretend around was an exhale of a breath held too long. At least one person in the world not only understood, but really and truly didn't want or expect her to act like any of this was normal or okay, or that she would ever be the same again.

Veera – or Mika, as she often went by online – made good on her offer of a sympathetic ear. Their correspondence started off with awkward, grammatically correct messages about the less painful details of their lives. Mika told her about the farmer’s market three blocks away where she went walking early in the morning before it got busy, and the plant stand there that her best friend and roommate Niki (also a Leda) had to ask her to stop buying so many succulents from.

At first, Beth tried to chatter like she used to, but there were no safe subjects. What had happened had touched all of her life. Normally, she’d talk about school, or sports, or her friends. But she was trying to start all over again at a new school with all the struggles that came with it. She didn’t have the time or energy for sports anymore, and talking about them hurt, now. Running used to make her heart sing. But no matter how she tried, there was no joy in the motion anymore. To top it all off, it was as hard to connect with old friends from her old life as it was to try and make new ones. She spent most interactions either doubting her own character judgement or dreading the moment people recognized her Leda face from the news.

She didn’t know how to talk about any of it to anyone. Maybe she could have if it had been just the clone thing or just the dad thing. But the two were inextricably entangled, and she still couldn’t even explain it to herself. It was all unbelievably horrifying, and any time she tried to be honest about it, people ended up disbelieving or horrified. Shocker.

Maybe, though, it wouldn’t be weird to talk about it with Mika. Mika already knew the worst. Beth didn’t have to hide that hurt from her to keep from shaking her world, or to keep her dismissal from hurting Beth. Maybe that’s what was hurting the most: the feeling that even after escaping, she still had to pretend to be okay. That compulsive stifling feeling choked her whenever it bubbled back up. On her bad days, a simple “how are you?” could reduce her to a blank face plastered over a raw tangle of emotions held motionless her own iron grip.

But Mika mentioned having bad days, too. Days came where she was too scared and nightmare-weary to do anything but make herself some tea and soak up some sunlight in the safety of home. Beth could casually say things like after those two months, i still twitch every time i hear a door open, and i wish my body would quit feeling like it doesn’t exist, my legs feel numb. It barely broke the surface of what it was like in her head, but was discomfiting enough for people that she held her tongue at school.

Sometimes, Beth got tired of constantly thinking about all this shit and tried to lighten things up. On one comically disastrous occasion of cultural exchange, she liveblogged Mika her attempt at eating the infamous Scandinavian lutefisk, along with an audio recording of the incoherent horrified noises she made after tasting it. In return, she received a recording of someone, presumably Mika, laughing harder than she’d ever heard anyone laugh before. It made Beth smile. Not many things did, back then.

Slowly, as the formality fell away from their transcontinental conversations, their heavier stories seething below the surface seeped in. Beth had been in therapy long enough now to know that she couldn't just recklessly unload on people the way she did in counseling sessions. But a counselor couldn't always provide the same kind of unspoken solidarity that someone in the same boat could.

Bit by bit, slipped into the chats that were becoming a daily occurrence, they talked about monitors, about what the experiment had really all been for, why that both was and wasn’t important, and how they'd discovered they were a part of Project Leda. Putting words to the pain hurt, a lot. But the ability to lay out long-unspoken truths in front of each other, knowing they were believed in the way that only people who have shared something can, was a healing kind of pain instead of the festering one Beth had been living with.

The two of them had more in common than they'd thought, growing up a world apart. Beth's experience raised under the subconscious wariness of her father's hovering thumb felt a lot like what Mika described growing up largely isolated with her former guardian. But sometimes, whenever they realized that something they'd both thought was normal was pretty not, they got a good laugh out of it despite the weight of their pasts. Mika seemed somewhat accustomed to her normal being considered pretty weird, so she usually took the revelations in stride better than Beth did. Beth wouldn't find out for at least a year after meeting her that it was because of her Asperger's, since it was a topic Mika seemed quite sensitive about.

Mika explained it once, in a conversation full of long pauses on her part and watching the typing icon disappear and reappear on Beth’s. The way she put it, it just meant that her brain worked a bit differently than most people's, processing sounds and sights and all the information it took in at different speeds and with different emphases. The difference could turn everyday things like the sound of a refrigerator running into a splitting headache, or something as simple as the soft texture of her favorite jacket into a kind of bliss. That alternative way of processing also extended to things like words and emotions as well. Sometimes, it took her longer than the world was willing to wait to process them into something that made sense. It often made communication tricky, trying to compensate for the gap in mutual understanding with most people. The world and the people in it could be so overwhelming sometimes, so fast and bright and full of noise and uncertainty and bewilderingly arbitrary social conventions. But the biggest challenge was other people expecting her to do everything the same way they did, ignorant of the fact there were any ways to exist other than their own, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was already putting in at least twice as much effort to communicate with them as they were with her.

And yet, even coming from such a different perspective, Mika gets it. Beth says sometimes i dream of drowning and its not a nightmare and i wake up not knowing how to feel, and Mika says I still dream of burning and wake up not knowing which fires are real, and they both say yeah. And they sit there across the world from each other knowing these things, knowing that it doesn't fix anything. And yet, it does change something. Nothing's any better, really. But somehow, the knowledge that someone else understands makes it a little easier to bear.

And that's just it. Somehow, without ever even having seen her face, Mika sees Beth clearer than anyone. All of her, all the ugly parts she hides so that they can't hurt anyone, and all the good parts that she also hides so that nobody can hurt them or take them away from her. Mika sees all of that and then just tells Beth another story about the Northern Lights she sees on the regular. Apparently, in Finnish, they’re called "fox fires." Beth hardly ever sees the aurora, living relatively far south in a bright city. But her stories about life in the metropolis by the lake intrigue Mika as much as the tales of the twisting green lights do her. And Beth can talk about something lighter again while not having to pretend that the heaviness isn’t there, too, even while she’s just once more trying and failing to explain poutine. For her, the weight never really goes away. But the effort of pretending she’s not carrying it takes more out of her than the weight itself. Mika understands that.

Maybe that’s why Beth had talked it over with Mika first, even before her mom, when she was considering taking a gap year after she hopefully managed to finish her senior year of high school. (God, it was so hard to think about English or math or whatever when just that morning she’d woken from a nightmare about being back in a not-home house that she never escaped.) Beth's mom had been so unbelievably supportive of Beth's recovery, even while she herself was adjusting to the wrenching change in both of their lives. It was both inspiring and a little intimidating. If her mom managed to run a household and raise a daughter all on her own, even while trying to heal from her own trauma, how could Beth not do her utmost, too? She was grateful to be able to talk to Mika about it, to get a reality check from someone who both understood her situation intimately and didn't make Beth feel that pressure of expectation. In the end, Beth did decide to take a year or two off before considering college, and her mom was again nothing if not supportive. Beth figured, after this entire mess, she deserved some time to herself to work on sorting her shit out, and her mom agreed.

After graduating with reasonable if not flying colors, Beth worked a series of part-time and odd jobs that didn't stress her out too much, letting herself focus on her own healing. In between her mom's support, seeing a counselor regularly, and the security of having a friend she could really trust, Beth felt like she was making progress. Slow progress, sure, but progress, nonetheless. Considering that she had seventeen years' worth of lies to unbelieve and emotional trauma to finally acknowledge, Beth figured that there was only so much she could do in the three years she'd had.

Her days were still hard. Getting sleep and waking up and eating and even just existing were still so fucking hard sometimes, and it was horrible. Some days, the thinnest sheet trapped her in bed like it was a car pinning her down. It felt so stupid for such simple things to be so hard. But then her therapist would remind her that that’s what mental illness and trauma was, that this was what the wounds in her mind and heart made her feel like. And once in awhile, sun broke through the shadows, and she had a day that reminded her what an okay day felt like – that okay days existed. That more might.

Now, she’s here, lying in a bright living room so far from home, with her dearest friend in the next room. She’s comfortable, except for the knot in her neck from sleeping oddly on the couch. The soreness pales in comparison to the usual tensions that are so strangely absent. Beth can’t remember the last time she felt this okay. She’s not steeling herself to go to work. She’s not dreading the next conversation with her mother that goes quiet as they both remember awful things they don’t mention. She’s not bracing herself for the next time her brain runs rampant worrying about whether she’ll run into the subject of her restraining order somewhere in the city and have to wonder if he'll honor it.

None of that reaches her here. There’s something about this quiet little pocket of space. It’s overrun with a proliferation of potted plants, from the sprawling lacy-leafed monster in the corner, to the fern peeping out of the kitchen, to the vine cuttings spilling out of an oddly familiar leaf-shaped glass bottle on the sill. Sunlight streaks through leaves and windowpanes and across the colorful patchwork of rugs on the floor. In the midst of it all, Beth is held by a palpable aura of gentleness. It holds her so softly that she doesn't need to hold herself in. It's like the layer of caution that she always keeps wrapped between herself and the rest of the world has simply dissolved away. In this moment suspended in morning light, she is okay.

She feels safe.

The realization undoes something in her. She feels the tears starting, and she expects the taut tension of involuntary stifling that always comes with them to return. But it doesn’t. She lies still and soft on the couch with the water creeping over her cheeks, breath occasionally catching but flowing freely. She savors it in the quiet.

The soft thunk of an ill-fitted door opening breaks into her odd reverie. Mika’s up. Beth sniffs and scrubs at her eyes halfheartedly, but she can’t hide them right now and she doesn’t want to. Mika notices immediately, and comes trotting over with quiet steps, leaning forward all concern.

"Beth," she says softly. She shifts from foot to foot like a nervous cat, watching Beth with enormous eyes. Beth has never met anyone else with such an intense stare. Or maybe it's just the fact that Beth knows beyond all doubt that she's being looked at by somebody who really sees her in her entirety. It's like she's staring right into Beth's soul. But Mika was able to do that long before they saw each others' faces. They've shared so many thousands of words over screens and seas, so many emotions that have gone otherwise unspoken, so many too-early mornings and too-late nights on the fringes of each other's dawns and dusks.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally, a flash of that sick tension runs through Beth’s body. It’s been okay when Mika has asked that before, when it was just silent letters on a screen. But out loud, the question falls on her ears like every well-meaning inquiry she’s ever had to scramble to find an acceptable answer for. The strain begins to cinch tight around her again like coarse ropes across barely-healed skin, ready to compel her to replace the truth with something safer. Her arms and legs tied, she begins to freeze, railing against herself for tainting the softness, the safety of this place.

"Beth." Mika says again, softer but more urgent.

In the gap between thoughts created by hearing her name, Beth seizes the chance to redirect them to the present. She clings to the welling in the corners of her eyes, the warmth of the sun caressing her back. The leaves of trees whisper outside the third-floor window in a mild breeze. The brightness spills over the sill and across Mika’s asymmetrical, half-craggy face and lights up tufts of her short hair as she steps closer. The couch dips as Mika sits down next to her, tilting Beth toward her.

Without meeting her eyes, Mika lifts a hesitant hand that hovers in the air between them, uncertain yet reaching. Her gentle palm falls onto Beth's forearm as softly as a floating leaf. The fingers curl around Beth’s arm just below the wrist, firm but not tight. Comforting.

The softness surrounding Beth seeps back into her, saturating her. As the memory fades like a ripple into water, the tension slackens. But it leaves her shaky, with traces of a familiar ache in her neck muscles, one that goes deeper than the simple stiffness from the couch. She sucks in a few unsteady breaths while Mika gives her arm a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry,” Beth says in a small, awkward voice.

Mika tilts her head. “Why?”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to bring all – this mess, in here.” Beth rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. “It’s so... soft, and okay, and – I don’t wanna ruin it,” she says, trailing off into a mumble.

“Hey.” Mika moves her hand from Beth’s arm to her shoulder. When Beth looks at her, she’s looking right back. Mika's eyes dart down to the floor for a moment, but then return to hold Beth’s with deliberate steadiness. “It’s alright. It’s like this here because we wanted it to be safe to be messy. You’re not ruining anything.”

“... Oh.” She’s steadied by Mika’s fingers curling around her shoulder, by the tendrils of sunlight spreading across her head and back and arms. Mika’s voice is small but steady, and somehow it comes from the same throat that makes that huge pealing laugh. It’s so strange how they sound nothing alike. Until yesterday, Beth hadn’t heard her voice since the lutefisk incident. They’d mostly kept to text and pictures. It had seemed easier, the way it gave them both plenty time to think before they spoke through their different uncertainties. Beth was already planning her trip before they realized that they’d never actually called each other. By that point, it sounded like more fun to meet in person the old-fashioned way.

"I'll make you some tea." Mika abruptly stands and lets go of her. Beth is sad to lose the contact. She flits across the room toward the kitchen in her soft cotton pajama pants, complemented by yet another black graphic tee for yet another Scandinavian metal band Beth's never heard of. Or at least, she'd never heard of them before Mika, who has something to say about all of them, and now Beth knows more than she'll ever need to.

Mika moves in and out of view behind the half-wall that separates the little living room from the kitchen. The fronds of the fern on the counter make a green rustling as she brushes by them. It sends soft feathered shadows waving across the wall opposite the window. Beth hears the rush of water boiling out of sight, and soon sees steam rising from the mug that's being handed to her.

"It's hot," Mika says unnecessarily. She sits down next to her again, this time leaning into Beth with her arm. Beth’s glad for it.

"Have you ditched the bags and gone loose leaf?" Beth says, eyeing the fragments of bright green leaf free floating in her mug.

"It didn't come in a bag. It came from the window."

"The window?"

"It's basil tea. For the fear and pain. Five large fresh leaves in two hundred and fifty milliliters water. We grew it here."

Beth takes a cautious sip. It's surprisingly sweet, and the savory smell of the steam rising from it curls into her sinuses. The aching in her head and neck begin to relax. It's unfamiliar, but it feels like home should, just like everything else here.

"Thanks," Beth says. On an impulse of craving closeness, she leans her head onto Mika's shoulder with a sigh. The sensation of contact deepens as Mika leans against her, too.

Beth holds the cup close, fingers wrapping around its warmth. She takes another sip and gets a bit of leaf stuck in her teeth. The way she scrunches up her face trying to dislodge it pulls a tiny laugh out of Mika.

“You don’t have to be okay here,” Mika whispers. “You can just be. That’s what we do.”

Beth finds her eyes wet again, but she smiles while she sets her mug down and wipes them away. “Kinda already wish I could stay here,” she says with a chuckle.

“... That’s probably not impossible.”

“Really?” Beth asks wryly. “Not even twenty-four hours, and you’d already be willing to put up with me?”

“Twenty-four hours and twenty-seven months.”

Beth melts a little even while waving the idea aside. “I wasn’t serious.”

“I know, but... weren’t you looking at the school here?”

“I mean, yeah, but... really, my mom just thought I deserved a break to get away for a little while. She’d saved up a bit, and I didn’t want to make it a big deal or anything, but she really wanted me to. She knew I wanted to come see you. Checking out the school was mostly an excuse. I know it’s a great place, but... I don’t really think it’ll help with what I wanna do.”

“What do you want to do?”

Beth sighs and leans back, looking at the ceiling. Mika follows her so that they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and pulls her feet up to tuck them in cross-legged.

She flounders for a moment, trying to find where to begin. She hasn’t told anyone this yet.

“This Leda crap has been kind of awful, right? It’s screwed so many of us up. But there’s only, what, a few hundred of us? And that’s not the only reason things get messed up.” She swallows. Her eyes trace irregularities in the ceiling: a knot in an exposed wooden beam here, a sealed and repainted crack there. “Kids like me are a dime a dozen. There’s so many people out there going through hell, just because they got stuck with people who are hurting so much that they hurt other people. And then they go on and hurt more people. It’s a cycle that’s really fucking hard to break.”

Breaths that have become harsh force her to pause and let them lengthen again. A touch on her knee draws her eyes down to a hand resting on it palm up, offering. Beth takes it. Mika squeezes her fingers in reassurance.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a cop like my dad, did you know that?” Mika, eyes wide, shakes her head. “Yeah. That was always my plan. I used to think he was so brave. Wanted to be just like him.” She shudders. Mika grips her hand, steady. “Even if I could do it better than he did, the system is still full of people like him. It’s broken. I couldn’t – I can’t end up like that. I can’t keep being a part of this shit. I want to actually help people.

“I never thought about it before I met you, but the people you brought in to do therapy programs and all for CYGNet? They’re amazing. The stuff I’ve gotten from them has helped me so much. And I don’t know what I’d do without my regular therapist. These people really help people like me. Like all of us. Those are the kind of people I wanna be like.”

Beth’s voice drops and becomes small and secretive, but firm. “I’ve been looking at the social work programs at home. There’s some really good ones at the uni near where mom and I live now. And that’s the city where I grew up. I know how things work there. I know it won’t be easy, but. I could really... do stuff.”

Silence stretches. Beth looks at Mika, only to be completely thrown off by an expression she can’t make heads or tails of. “What?”

Mika’s face is blank yet soft, only barely hinting at her thoughts in the faintest crinkling of her eyes. It’s funny, how quiet her face is most of the time. Beth never would have guessed, going off her online impressions of her. Mika’s so expressive and eloquent with her written words. In person, she is much more subtle. But even after only a day spent around her, Beth is already starting to see how her movements speak volumes in a language of their own. The flickering of her hands flares to life with excitement. The casual shake of her head tosses her hair out of her eyes even when it’s not in the way, like she’s clearing the slate of her mind. And much like Beth these days, she goes very still and tense when she’s getting uncomfortable or overwhelmed, the way she did after a particularly loud whistle at the train station. It shows in her shoulders. They’re soft now though, and she just watches Beth and squeezes her hand once more.

“You’re really amazing, you know,” Mika says.

“Wh- huh?”

“Well.” She looks away and turns their hands over, but doesn’t let go. “After the awful things you’ve been through – nnnh! Don’t pretend,” she says, looking back sharply as Beth begins to protest that she didn’t have it that bad. Mika knows her so well. Beth can’t help but laugh a little. “After all that, you just want to help people. All I ever want to do is get away from them, most of the time.”

Beth quirks a brow at her with a bemused grin. “Really? Because setting up and running an organization that provides mental health resources and extremely important information to a few hundred people is a really shit way to not help people.”

“I never talk to most of them! And CYGNet only has one hundred and thirteen members, not hundreds.”

Beth rolls her eyes with an exaggerated motion. “Yeah, so, you’ve somehow convinced, what, a whole freaking third of a huge group of scared strangers to trust you?”

“A lot of that was Niki and the press team, she’s way better at talking to people th–”

“And you’ve been careful enough and clever enough to keep them and all the information you got from DYAD safe and secure? I can’t even imagine the organization and, and cyber-security and whatever the hell else you put into all this. That you still put in. And look what you’ve done. You’re helping so many people. You found something only you could do, and do it really damn well.”

Mika looks down into her lap, half her face flushed. The raised ridges and swirls of the scarred side are pink, but not as dark. Her shoulders curl in a little, but she doesn’t pull her hand away from Beth’s. If anything, she holds on a little tighter.

“You don’t have to like talking to people to help them. You don’t have to be someone you’re not,” Beth says gently, then pauses as a new thought occurs to her. “Why did you talk to me?”

Mika gives a tiny shrug, eyes still downcast. “You reached out to me. Most people are scared, or suspicious, or hard to talk to, but you were just... honest. You told me exactly what you needed, even if that meant sharing your painful secrets with a stranger. I...” She trails off, looking toward the closed door of Niki’s bedroom. She blinks slowly.

“It reminded me of something Niki said a long time ago. When we first met. We didn’t trust each other at first. But when things got bad, we needed to, and she just... We’d only known each other for a day. She told me a true story that people had called her crazy for, and trusted me to believe her. And when I told her about... my Asperger’s, about being autistic, she just told me something about herself, too, another thing that a lot of people get cruel about when they know. This was back before she came out, too. She was hardly out to herself, then, really. But she told me anyway. ‘Secret for a secret,’ she said.”

“She’s really special to you.” It’s not a question. How could it be, with the sheer softness of love rounding out every syllable and making Mika melt into the couch and into Beth’s shoulder.

“She’s... yes. She’s my family.” Mika looks out the window, and the bright light dances over her nose. “I don’t remember ever having one.”

Beth slings an arm around Mika’s shoulders and smiles as she curls closer into Beth’s side. “Looks like you’re part of a pretty big one, now,” she says, waving a hand at the dozens of photos on the walls circling them.

“I guess so.”

“No need to guess. The evidence is right there. And I’m right here.”

Mika turns those huge eyes on her again. She’s done that multiple times now, even though Beth knows she rarely looks people in the eye. Eye contact is too much, most of the time. She describes it as too intense, too distracting, too intimate. Meeting those eyes – so like Beth’s own, but filled with such a different kind of light – Beth thinks she understands a glimmer of it. If every eye she met were as overwhelmingly expressive as Mika’s, Beth probably wouldn’t meet them all either. It keeps taking her by surprise, coming across their eloquence in an otherwise quiet face. Caught by that gaze, every emotion that lives in it touches Beth. Right now, it’s soft with adoration but shaded with a gradient of doubt. The width and depth of Mika’s eyes reveal a clear view of a vulnerable, aching, healing heart that spent eleven years starving for the love it needs and still hasn’t forgotten the famine.

It might be breaking Beth’s heart. No wonder Niki is always showering her with hugs and kind words and gentle hands on rounded shoulders. Maybe one of these days, Mika will have spent long enough finally getting to soak up all that affection that she won’t look at Beth like this when she says the simple truth.

“Hey. Here I am. Really.” Beth’s voice is a little choked up. She pulls Mika into a proper hug with both arms. Mika squeaks in surprise at being squeezed so emphatically, but returns it all the same. God, but she gives the best hugs of anyone Beth’s ever met. All contact and even, firm pressure and steadiness. “It’s so damn good to see you. I can’t believe you’re...” real, Beth thinks but doesn’t say. I can’t believe I didn’t imagine you. I can’t believe you’re just as kind as your words. I can’t believe how good it feels to be around you. “I can’t believe I’m really here.”

Mika doesn’t say anything. For a moment, one of her hands leaves Beth’s back to fiddle with something, then comes back to give her a little squeeze that Beth returns.

Beth’s phone buzzes a notification behind her on the little glass-top table next to the couch. The table’s wooden base is a round blob carved into the shape of a very fluffy and very ugly sheep with curly horns. Beth’s arms loosen from their embrace as she turns to look at it, bemused. No one but Mika really messages her except for her mom. But if it’s morning here, it’s about time for bed at home. She checks it, just to be sure she’s okay.

But it’s not from her mom.

Mika reaches out to gently grasp her forearm again as Beth shoots her a quizzical look and opens the message.

3mika: I'm glad you're here.

Beth's heart quails.

To think, that her darker days might have kept her from ever being in this moment. Beth might never have gotten to this point, hurt but healing and here. Here, she's seven time zones and an ocean away from the cycle of pain she grew up in, barely aware she needed to escape. She might well feel safer right here in this crossroads of time and place than she has at any other in her entire life. It's a realization that's as humbling as it is nourishing.

Already, the distance this journey has taken her has given her so much perspective. She wasn’t sure, before, whether the work she’s been considering was just a response to what she’s been through – or just a way for the cycle to keep her within its spiral. But she’s seen what Mika can do, what Beth could do one day, if she keeps on.

It won’t be easy. She’ll go back, and deep-seated memories will try to drag her back into small dark places. But being here, even for only a few hours, has already changed her. She can change, and she can grow, and she is already tapping into new strengths that her past has yet to reckon with. She is here, right now, in spite of all of it. And today is not a dark day.

“Me too, Mika. I’m glad to be here, too.” Beth’s tongue stumbles over the name, because she’s never said it out loud before, only read it on a screen.

Surprise sends Mika’s eyebrows up and her eyes wide again, like she’s never heard it before, either. Maybe she hasn’t. She tilts her head again like a question, touching her ear and looking at Beth.

Beth grins. “Mika.” A smile blooms on that curious face, lighting it up. She’s the one who pulls Beth into a hug this time, and it’s both fierce and soft. When she lets go, she leans into Beth’s side again and they stay like that, arms over shoulders and comfortably curled up together, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence like leaves drink in light. The simple sweetness and companionship of it soothes Beth’s heart, seeking its way into the aching crevices. It’s an odd feeling, both seeping inward and flowing outward, trickling all the way through her until it warms her cold toes in a way that feels both new and strangely familiar.

A long, sleepy yawn announces that Niki’s awake now, too. Soon, she comes out of her room stretching her arms over her head. Mika reaches a hand out toward her to wave in greeting, though she leaves the other arm draped over Beth’s shoulders. Niki smiles at them. That kind smile, too, adds to the warmth washing through Beth. Her feet practically itch with it, and with a growing sensation of déja vu. She fidgets her toes against the floor as Niki walks over to brush Mika’s outstretched hand like a touchstone.

“How'd you sleep? Isn’t that couch the comfiest?” she says to Beth.

“Well, I’ve got a crick in my neck, but I still slept better than I have in years.”

Niki turns her sunny smile on Beth. “Good to hear it. Weird, though, I nap there all the time and my neck’s always fine. Huh. Anyway, I think I might make waffles. You two want some breakfast?”

Mika nods, but doesn’t let go of Beth yet. Beth is lost in thought, trying to remember what that light, floating feeling in her feet reminds her of.

“Sweet.” Niki ambles toward the kitchen and bends down with pursed lips to peer at the fern perched on the counter. “Hmm. You still look a little pale. Let’s get you some more sun.” She brings the plant over to the living room and is fussing over settling it on the sheep table when it clicks for Beth. A physical memory washes over her, for once welcome. She lets it fill her, refreshing like a deep breath of cold morning air her lungs are suddenly hungry for. She flexes her calves and ankles, her legs remembering the joy and freedom of stride and strike. Her bones are finally recalling how they once carried her with ease, even while they're adjusting to the new weight of who she's become. Fully alive again for at least this moment, her soles are practically prickling with the desire to eat up ground.

“How about you, Beth? Do you like waffles?” Niki asks, fluffing the fern’s crinkly green leaves. Mika squeezes her shoulder.

Beth grins and plants steady feet on the blue rug in front of the couch. “Save a few for me? I think I might actually go for a run first.”

[raphavarrane]

fluff alphabet (marco asensio)

A - Arguments (What they are like after an argument...)

marco is quite stubborn but not in an egotistical way. he never likes being the reason that you’re stressed or upset but at the same time, he struggles to initially realise what he’s done wrong. so after an argument, he’d pull you into a hug and apologise quickly, whispering the sweetest of words into your ear.

if the argument was really bad and tempers started to flair, marco would give you time to gather your thoughts before trying to reconcile with you.

B - Body care (What they do to look after you...)

weekly baths. usually, it ends with nothing sexual. it’s the only time where both of you can be calm and just enjoy each other’s company without having to worry about anything else. marco’s tense body finally relaxes in the warm water and feeling your fingers coarsing through his hair is enough.

C - Cuddles (How good are their cuddles...)

marco usually keeps one hand around your waist so that he can eaisly pull you into a hug whenever he’s missed your body up against his. when it’s just the two of you, he doesn’t mind being the little spoon and feeling your frame keeping him warm.

D - Dream (What's the dream for you as a couple...)

one day marco would love to call you ‘his’. officially. he wants to put a ring on your finger and show you off to anyone & everyone he sees. but the real dream for marco is to create a human life that has your eyes and smile.

E - Emotion (How emotional they are...)

marco tries (and always fails) to hide his emotions. he doesn’t want to burden you; he’s not always around and he doesn’t want to drop the mood when you guys finally have some time together. but when it all becomes too much, marco gives in and puts his head on your shoulder and lets it all out.

F - Family (What do your family think of them...)

your father adores marco; they go to watch football games together whenever marco’s in town and go hang out at your father’s favourite bar. your mother however, is a bit apprehensive around marco because of his career choice but eventually, she fell for that famous smile just like you.

if you have any brothers or sisters, marco would go meet on with them like a house on fire, seeing it as an excuse to learn some funny things about you that he could eventually use against you.

G - Giving (Are they generous...)

he loves giving you trinkets from other cities he’d been to due to his travels! fridge magnets from england, sweets from germany and fancy lingerie from paris from time to time

H - Happy (When they're at their happiest...)

when he’s on the pitch, feeling the air around and the ball at his feet. he loves his job and hopes it’ll last forever. he’s also happy when you’re around; you’re that extra push he needs to do his best. to him, nothing else matters except your happiness.

I - Independence (How much they rely on you...)

marco relies on you for the small things: emotionally support, good food and kisses. sometimes you don’t even have to speak, you’ve both been able to communicate without having to talk.

J - Jokes (The jokes they tell...)

his jokes are like a school child’s, childish humour that isco would expect his little boy to say. marco’s joke are either short and hilarious or long and boring. but everyone laughs nonetheless.

K - Kids (How they are around children...)

when he first met your nephew, you could’ve sworn you watched marco’s heart melt. those brown eyes couldn’t keep their eyes off him. he loves meeting children and can’t wait to have his own little’uns running circles around him.

L - Love (What they love most about you...)

he loves your body. marco’s a very handy person and just can’t stop himself from grabbing onto something just to bring you close to him, even if it’s your waist. he loves the feeling of your warm skin against his.

M - Mystery (How open/honest they are...)

marco is very honest with his emotions; he doesn’t like to bottle things in and doesnt minding sitting down to have a deep chat with you about anything that worries you or him.

N - Nicknames (What's they're nickname for you...)

‘princesa’ is marco’s favourite thing to call you. at first it was a joke, established after the first time he saw you on your period, but now, it’s grown on both of you.

O - Optional (Something random...)

one of things you and marco love to do together is karaoke. most of the time, it’s just to have an excuse to sing a great song terribly but you can’t help but smile like an idiot when marco sings a romantic ballad directed at you.

P - Presents (What they like to buy for you...)

marco loves to buy you presents! from the generic teddy bear to clothes you begged him not to get you because they were too expensive. he loves to see the smile grow on your face and if he could, marco would bottle the moment and save it forever.

Q - Quantity (How long until something takes place in your relationship...)

your first kiss happened on the third date. it was soft and light, filled with smiles and giggles. you moved in with each other after dating for a year. your first time together however, happened a long time after that but marco was willing to wait. he’d do anything for you.

R - Romance (How romantic are they...)

marco isn’t an intentional romantic. he does romantic things without actually putting much thought into it. he was always brought up to buy flowers, cook dinner, and throw compliments like it’s the norm.

S - Spark (How the spark stays alive in your relationship...)

one word. spontaneity. from late night drives so you can watch the sunrise to mini road trips. marco is unpredictable when it comes to date nights but you live for it.

T -  Trust (How trusting they are...)

marco isn’t that trusting. in his career, he feels like he is constantly surrounded by ‘fake people’ so it took him a long time to become comfortable around you. he hasn’t told you his deepest secrets yet but it’s a start.

U - Upset (How they cheer you up...)

marco would grab the closest speaker and start dancing around. he’s knows his dancing is more comical than professional but he’ll do anything to put a smile on your face.

V - Victory (How they feel about you...)

he feels like he’s won the lottery. he adores every part of you and he’s here for the long term; through the bad times and the good. marco couldn’t imagine going through life without anyone else by his side.

W - Wind Up (What they do that annoys you...)

he forgets things. sometimes they’re important, and sometimes it’s not that bad, but it still bugs you none the less. marco would forget to do his share of chores and still be confused why the laundry basket. the spaniard has to be told by his teammates when it’s your anniversary to make sure he doesn’t lose his head.

X - xxx (How good are their kisses...)

marco likes to take one side of your face and tilt it so that you don’t headbutt each other. he likes to lightly bite onto your bottom lip before working his magic on your neck.

Y - Yummy (Can they cook...)

marco loves to cook for you! his mother taught him some of her most iconic meals for the moment he gets a girlfriend. now you can say you’re lucky enough to eat traditional asensio family food.

Z - Zzz (How the two of you like to sleep...)

marco lays on his back with your head resting on his chest. he has one hand making circles on your stomach and the other outstretched. however underneath the sheets, you feet are entangled together. at first glance, it’s a very conventional couple sleeping position. but you guys are anything but conventional.

[please let me know if you would like more of these with different footballers!]

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth [Part 3]

Master List

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But... a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Smut (like a lot... so... just turn around now if you’re not of age or aren’t into that).

A/N: Please be gentle with me my darling readers and pumpkins. I want to be very confident about this whole smut writing thing but I’m new to it and just yeah, I hope you like it lol!

That being said my fucking GAAAAD it was fun to write. But, honestly, the morning after... that is my fave part. 

I’m really excited to see what you all think of this one. Like I said in another post, this baby is just running away with me so if you like these two there’s a lot more coming. 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @peachthatdrinkslemonade @breezy1415 @wonderlandmind4 @handplucked @piensa-bonito @midnightdream83

You’re making out as the elevator doors slide open and the door to Bucky’s tower apartment swings in, ah Jarvis. Manhattan glitters through the floor to ceiling windows and only a couple of lamps are on leaving the room comfortably dim. It smells like him here, spicy and warm with notes of sandalwood and tee tree. It’s a good smell you think. He doesn’t put you down as you expect. Instead, he just turns and carries you to his room. 

He lets you down onto the bed and you lean up on your elbows staring up at him. For a second you just take the other in. His chest is heaving a bit, hunger etched in every line of his face. Without taking his eyes off you his right-hand wanders to his belt and unbuckles it, undoing the button of his jeans, then the soft rasp of his zipper. 

Are you breathing? You think you may have forgotten, distracted as you were, but when his hand stops the thought occurs that you should take one. 

Filling your lungs you scoot forward, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, you run your hands down his sides to his waistband. As you work his jeans over his hips he gently runs metal fingers down your cheek to your lips, his thumb tracing the shape. 

You place a kiss on his right hip bone and run the tip of your tongue down the v of his abdomen stopping just short and going to the other side to do the same. A shudder and soft sound comes from him, you feel him move just under your face and smirk. 

“Tease,” he whispers as you look up to meet his eyes. He had no idea. 

Your nails run the same path your tongue had and just before touching him change course to continue down his inner thighs. His jaw tightens, no doubt trying to maintain some kind of control. 

Opening your mouth a touch you wet your index and middle fingers, even slipping them in a bit for good measure. When you run them, warm and moist up the underside of his cock, tracing the base of the head lightly with your middle finger, his breath becomes ragged and there’s the soft sounds of metal gears. 

“Just enjoying myself,” you say smiling up at him. 

With that you slowly take his head in your mouth, flicking your tongue from the base to the tip. The ragged sound that escapes him sends tingles through your whole body. His right-hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head but doesn’t force you down on to him, just sits there silently begging for more. You decide to give him what he wants, because fuck if you don’t want it too, want to hear the sounds he’ll make, taste him, feel him. You take all of him into your mouth, wrapping your right index, middle, and thumb around the base of his cock. 

Something like, “Oh,” comes from him as you begin to work him, steadily, just a little suction. He growls a bit as he hits the back of the throat. Your left hand resting on his muscular thigh feels him tense after a few minutes. 

“Stop,” he pants, though he still thrusts at you. You feel something like a smile work the muscles in your face despite the mouthful. His fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back, the pull of his fingers more tantalizing than painful. “Woman, if you don’t stop this is going to be over much faster than either of us want.” 

He runs his metal index finger under your bottom lip to remove some lingering moisture. When it rubs on the soft skin of your lips you’re surprised at how smooth it feels. Stepping back he kicks off his boots and slips out of his jeans leaving him deliciously bare. 

You swallow hard. Even in the dim light, he’s immaculate. All dark hair, rippling muscles, and that fucking cock. Christ. You swallow hard keeping the small sound of pleasure that threatened to slip out contained. He seems to notice your admiration anyway and slowly moves back toward the bed. 

Tilting your chin up to look at him, he smiles broadly before kissing you deep. He pushes you back against the bed and runs his hands down your torso causing you to shudder. Grasping your ample hips he holds them as he takes your nipple in his mouth. 

This time you can’t swallow the sound. A small gasping moan bursts from you and your hips press against his hold. His eyes look up at you glinting before moving to the other eliciting much the same reaction from you. Kissing a trail down your body he stands and slips your feet free of your battered Converse and unbuttons your jeans. In one swift tug, they’re gone. 

Bucky licks his bottom lip and smirks hands once again grabbing your hips he pulls you effortlessly to the edge of the bed as he kneels on the ground. His stubble scratches and tickles at your inner thighs and you sigh feeling goosebumps rise all over your body. But when he lowers his mouth to you, that’s electric. 

As he sucks at your clit you cry out, loudly, so fucking thankful that these apartments are soundproof. Pleasure already curls tight in your belly begging to be set free. It had been far too long since someone had touched you like this. His tongue pulses against you and his right hand comes around sliding two fingers into you, ever so subtly stretching you open. 

“Fuck!” Your back arches and you feel the tingles of energy snaking just under your skin. Don’t light anything on fire, Y/N, sober you whispers from the depths of your consciousness. He lifts his head and replaces the maddening feeling of his mouth with the gentle pressure of his thumb, rubbing around your clit. Panting you look at him, a coy smile on his face.

“I want you to come for me, Y/N,” he says, voice low and rumbling. This sets you alight, and your brows crease with worry, genuinely concerned about causing damage. 

He notices, “Don’t worry about it. Stark can buy me a new comforter if need be. I wanna see you come.” He pauses, “Do you want to?” He asks and begins to lower back down. 

“Yes,” you pant, “please, please.” You grab a hank of his hair as he takes you back into his mouth. Your hips grind, lifting of their own accord, and his fingers pump harder into you. 

“Bucky, fuck, Bucky!” The orgasm tears through you. So different from your solo endeavors of late. This is white hot pleasure flooding your system as he keeps working you through it. You forgot it could feel this way. Your grip on him loosens and he stands from between your trembling thighs. 

There’s a fascinated look on his face, “Beautiful.” You hold your arm up and look at the pinpoints of light winking in and out on your skin, barely visible tendrils of energy connecting the points. Honestly, you always thought it was garish, something that marked you as a freak. But… nothing was on fire and maybe it was beautiful. 

His right hand is holding onto his cock, slowly stroking it, looking down at you. You scoot back to be fully on the bed, leaning up. 

Keeping your eyes on his you open your legs, “You could take care of that yourself I guess.” You smirk, hand wandering between your legs, “But I think I have a much better idea.”

Lowering himself over you he rests on his forearms peering into your eyes, suddenly serious, “Are you sure?”

You reach up and bring his face to yours, crushing a kiss onto his lips, and growl out, “I want you to fuck me, Bucky Barnes, until I don’t remember who either of us are.”

He smolders for just a second, your words having the desired effect, and he thunders into you. You can’t help but cry out as he fills you, the ache so sweet, pressing yourself closer to him. 

“Fuck,” he groans and kisses you, his tongue filling your mouth. Wrapping your legs around his hips you urge him faster. Sitting up he pulls your legs away spreading them wide. When he slams into you it’s almost too much. Even so, you press back against him, hard, wanting all of him. 

Releasing your left leg his right-hand lowers to you. When his thumb strokes your clit you almost lose it. Your hands are balled into fists, holding onto the duvet for dear life. His pace quickens, thumb stroking you, when you look at him the expression of lust and satisfaction there is enough to tip you over the edge. He fucks you through it, making the aftershocks shake you almost as much as the orgasm itself had. 

He leans back down, pace maddeningly slow, and presses a kiss just under your ear. When he lifts his mouth to your ear you gasp a little, the feeling of his breath and stubble making you shiver. 

“How about you turn over for me, doll?” He growls into your ear. All you can manage is a nod, language a forgotten skill. 

As you go to turn once he’s pulled out, he grabs you lifting and flipping you as if you weigh nothing. A laugh tumbles from you and quickly turns into sounds of pleasure as he kisses the space between your shoulder blades. Your ass lifts and you can feel him pressed against your lower back. 

A sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest as he feels you squirm. Lifting off you his hands grab your ass before slapping both cheeks just enough to smart. You groan in pleasure and raise up on your knees. 

“Mmm,” he hums caressing you. Without warning, he plunges into you once more. He fucks you until all you can think about is this, the feeling of him, the waves of pleasure. His hands reach around the front of you and lift you up so your back is pressed against his chest, his fingers catching and toying with your nipples. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers. You turn and find his lips, greedily. His left-hand wraps gently around your throat, not threatening and you stay like that for a moment, not moving just connected, kissing ferociously. 

He releases you and pushes you gently back down. Moving from behind you he coaxes you to your back once more. His face hovering above you he runs his hands up your arms and pins them above your head. This time he’s slow, gently entering you so you can feel every inch of him bit by bit.

“B… Bucky,” you softly moan. This makes a smile rise and his pace quicken just a touch. You meet his rhythm effortlessly in sync. When you push against his hands he presses them harder into the bed and you, surprisingly, love this feeling of giving control over to him. 

“Y/N,” he grumbles before catching your mouth with his. He releases your arms and braces his forearms on either side of your head. You wrap your arms under his feeling the muscles of his back work as he fucks you slow, steady, deep. 

Your back arches pressing against him, he quickens, you’re almost there again, “Please Buck,” his brows crease. 

“Now,” he groans. Both of your bodies shudder in unison, and you hold on tight to him. He kisses you hard, pressing your head into the bed, body shaking. 

When he stops and lifts his head his eyes are gleaming, much as you knew yours were, the intensity having brought tears to you both. You cup his face in your hands and just stare at him before kissing him again. 

You spend a few minutes intertwined like that. Both shaking and just barely keeping it together. It feels like you’re the only two creatures in the world right now like there was never some dark past, just this. 

He pulls away from another barrage of kisses and his thumbs stroke your forehead, “Thank you.” His voice is barely audible. 

“Ditto,” you manage to eke out. This earns you a crooked smile and he reluctantly rolls off of you. 

In his bathroom you don’t even turn the light on for a moment, just looking at the constellation of your skin in the mirror, sparkling and like a starry sky. He was right, it was beautiful. When you emerge he’s pulled the blankets down on his bed and leaned against the headboard still nude. 

Suddenly you feel awkward, exposed despite what just went down. What now? His eyes slowly rise to meet your own and he smiles so big his nose crinkles. Cute. 

“Would you like a shirt?” All you manage is a shrug, standing frozen in the middle of his room. His expression softens and he extends his right hand, “Come here, doll.” 

Was this what you wanted? Did you want to stay? Even sober you, slowly more and more in control of the situation, is on the same page. You absolutely did want to stay. 

Without a word, you crawl into the bed and Bucky wraps you in his arms, your head comfortably resting on his chest. 

“Could… Could I maybe stay here? Just for tonight?” You ask, voice so unsure. 

He tilts your head to look at him. “I wouldn’t have it another way darling.” He kisses you and you both slide down into the bed. A dreamless, contented sleep finding its way to the both of you quickly. 

There’s a loud banging at the door. Who the fuck?! You roll over, committed to ignoring whoever thought you were going to get out of your bed for anything next to a national crisis. 

“Buck!” You hear Steve bellow over the door com. Suddenly you are very awake. “Open the fucking door, man!” Shooting up you remember, last night, you’re in Bucky’s apartment and he’s dead asleep next to you, one ass cheek poking out from under the sheet. Damn, it was a great ass. 

Fuck. Situation at hand. Focus. 

“James fucking Barnes! I am going to tear this door down if you don’t open it!” Jarvis is being smugly silent you note. Traitor.

You pick up the pillow you slept on and smack Bucky with it, “Hey!”

Groaning he rolls over, looking up at you, voice groggy, “What?” 

“I. Am. Not. Kidding. Bucky.” Steve yells.

“Fuck!” Bucky shoots up. 

“Yeah, fuck.” You quip. He’s rummaging for underwear fumbling to get them on. It takes effort to suppress a laugh. 

“You want him to know your here?” He hisses, a smirk on his lips despite the tone. 

“Not particularly.”

“Then hush,” he smiles and leans into the bed kissing you before bolting out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

You sit stunned for a second, pulling the sheet over your chest. What. Was. Happening. 

He just kissed you. Sober you fully in control. And you didn’t hit him, zap him, or think of any way to maim him at all. This was fully Stark’s fault you decide. Him and his fucking special sauce. Ass. 

Grabbing a pillow you hold it to your chest, trying not to focus on the conversation now taking place in the living room. It smells like him, your eyes close as you breathe deep. Nope. You pull yourself together and fling the offending object away from you. 

Bucky (Barnes the stubborn part of your brain wants to still call him), and you couldn’t do this. It would be too much. Too much trauma between you. No. Unacceptable. Groaning you fall forward and face plant on the duvet, ass in the air. But… the sex was fucking phenomenal. 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts you don’t hear Steve leave. When the door opens Bucky sees you, face in the bed, ass in the air and laughs. 

“Is this an open invitation or…?”

“You wish,” you say, sitting back into a normal position. He shrugs and smirks in response. Really what you wished was that you could say you’d deny him another round. Because… yeah, even sober you couldn’t turn it down. “Disaster averted?” You ask as he sits on the bed next to you, running his hands through his hair. 

“Disaster’s a little harsh don’t you think?”

Playfully you bat at his right arm. “You know what I mean.”

He flashes you a smile, “Yes, disaster was averted. You can rest easy, our cover of being bitter enemies is not yet blown.” You had rested easy, very easy, after last night you think. 

You nod, “Jesus I need a shower.” You slide off the bed next to him and pick your discarded jeans up off the floor, slipping into them. His eyes burn into you as you do so. When you look back his expression is soft and… appreciative. Nope, you tell yourself again despite the tightening in your belly. 

Your shirt… Fuck… your shirt and bra were still in the range. “Can I take you up on that shirt offer?” Mentally you plan to go there before your own apartment, hoping no one has felt the need to shoot anything yet today. 

“Sure,” he says going to his dresser. Was that disappointment on his face? “Here,” he tosses a black v-neck to you. It’s a bit oversized and smells like him. Ugh. 

The two of you stand awkwardly looking but not looking at the other. Finally, you break the silence. 

“Thanks… for… uh… letting me stay,” you say looking up at him as you pull on a sneaker. 

A half smile rises to his face and he runs his left hand through his hair, “I… I’m glad that… you wanted to…”

Suddenly, a laugh bubbles out of you, you can’t help it. It’s one of those laughs that overtakes you and you just can’t stop. You collapse onto the edge of the bed and he looks at you confused before he can’t help but join in. After a few minutes, you wipe at the tears in your eyes. It had been a long time since you laughed like that… years… decades maybe. 

“What are we? A couple of fucking teenagers? Christ.” You pant out, giggles still coming. He’s closer to you now, beaming. “I feel like I’m about to sneak out the window and hope my mom doesn’t catch me coming home.” 

He extends his right hand, “Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re about to shake my hand and say it was a pleasure or some shit.” A snorting laugh bursts from him and he shakes his head, you take his hand and he pulls you up. 

Your bodies are close though not touching and he’s looking down at you. Unthinking you raise up on your toes and kiss him, not hard or lustful just soft. He cups your face in his hands holding you there. Both of you look into the eyes of the other not knowing at all what to say. 

You sigh, “I’ve got to go.”

“Ok,” he kisses you once more and releases you. You nod and head for the front door. When your hand is on the knob you pause, hearing movement behind you. His hands are on your waist spinning you around. Pinning you to the door he kisses you, hard, passionately. You oblige, each of you wanting one last taste of this, regardless of if it was a good idea or not.

He pulls away, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. “I’m going to want my shirt back,” he says smirking. 

“We’ll see, Barnes,” his last name said with a wink, “We’ll see.” Quickly pecking his cheek you push him away and head out the door. 

[the-pug-addict]

Sfw alphabet for Dracula please 😍

A- affection

Contrary to being a terrifying monster of legend, Drac is a giant ball of affection towards the one he loves. He’ll greet you lovingly, call you “darling,” and hold you tenderly whenever he desires. Of course, he’s going to show far more affection when the two of you are alone than around his vampire peers (simply because he’s feeling more pissy/serious when the subjects are around).

B- body type

TALL TREE. It’s now official that he’s 7 feet tall.

Big hunky teddy bear. Athletic build with broad shoulders, but not too muscular.

C- cuddle

Cuddles abound whenever you desire. When the day is coming to an end and he needs some quality time with you, he will pull you close to him, holding you tight as his form nearly swallows you. His favorite cuddling spots are a couch in the library by the fire, or on the bed.

D- domestic life

Spouse or not, Drac will spoil you like one. The one he loves will get breakfasts in bed every morning while he’s away tending to matters. Supper will always be spent together in the dining hall with the two of you sitting close. Plenty of servants will also be available to tend to your needs while Dracula is away.

You two might have different sleeping schedules, depending on whether you’re human or vampire, but evenings will always be spent together.

E- erogenous

Dracula’s weakest areas are his chin and his ears. They’re so sensitive to touch that shivers go down his spine whenever there’s so much as a light caress to these. Touch them, and he’s almost under a spell. Passion will quickly follow.

F- fiance

Let’s face it. Dracula is so impressed with love that you’re almost automatically married to him if he falls in love with you.

G- gentle

The most powerful vampire in the world part-time; most gentle giant in the world full-time. He’ll treat his love like a delicate flower. Even accidentally bumping into them will cause him to feel heavy remorse. It won’t matter if they’re a tough cookie, either.

H- hugs

Dracula doesn’t hug very often. Actually, before you came into his life, he never had hugs in… 400 years? The first time you hug him, he’ll be caught off guard. But after a moment of realizing what you’re doing, he’ll bow his head and envelop you in his arms slowly.

He’ll never want to let go.

I- i love you

Once in love, he becomes the King of saying I Love You. He’ll say it every way, every day. You’ll get verbal “I love you”’s at least ten times daily. He’ll say it to you through little actions. He’ll show it to you in his kisses. 24/7, he’s going to make damn sure you’re getting the message always.

J- jealousy

VERY, VERY JEALOUS. A side eye at any man/woman who looks at you. Gets pissy when said people try to flirt with you. As long as you’re faithful to him, however, he’ll try his best to be respectful of you, but not without grumbling heavy criticism about the other man/woman when the two of you are alone.

K- kisses

Dracula can give kisses that would put Romeo to shame. A deep, passionate kisser, he’ll either hold your chin or embrace you tightly as he locks his lips with yours. Surprisingly, his lips are warm. A beautiful, gentle suck when he pulls away, too.

L- little one

Must I explain this one? Just take a look at the end of S2E7 sorry if I triggered any tears. Give Drac a kid, and life is fucking beautiful.

M- mother in law

To be honest, there’s a slim chance of any relationship between Dracula and your mom, unless she’s alright with her son/daughter being married to the ultimate King of Vampires. But hey, on the off-chance that she’s cool with it, and if she’s loving and respectful of Dracula, then he’s probably going to like her, too (once he gets past his bias on other humans).

O- openness

Only for you, Dracula is ever open. It’s with the one he loves when he’s the most vulnerable of all. The dark-lord image melts away, his walls fall, and he can feel and speak like a true being around you.  Even sadness and tears will be visible for you to see and to care for. You’re his emotional support, 100%– one of the many reasons why he loves you.

P- patience

This is something he needs when warming up to humans, seeing that he doesn’t trust them in the slightest. Be good to him, let others be good to him, and give him some time. Once he sees that you aren’t a bad person, he’ll become amazed and lower his guard. That’s when things will begin to pick up speed.

Q- quote

“My love shall wane for you, my dear. Not until the sun ceases rising and setting, and not until all the stars grow cold.”

R- remember

Dracula has the sharpest memory and can recall anything that’s happened on a given day. For that reason, he’s going to remember everything that involves you– the day you two met, the way your voice trembled, the day you became friends, your first kiss…

A bonus, since he’ll never forget your anniversary.

S- security

He’s the world’s #1 guardian boyfriend. Not only is he one of the strongest vampires in existence, he’s also hellbent on protecting you with his life. He’ll keep you guarded within his halls, and not a creature is to lay a finger on you. He’ll always want to know your whereabouts so that he can come to your aid in case of emergencies. Nothing shall harm you. Ever.

T- together

Quality time is spent together almost anywhere in or near the castle. His favorite spots are in the garden, the library, or a trail in the woods. He particularly enjoys long walks in which the two of you can engage in thoughtful, deep conversations. Evening is probably the best time of day for quality time, since the two of you are both awake during that period.

U- unique

He’s the King of Vampires, dude. What more do you want?

V- vanity

He’s not exactly vain, but he’ll want to make sure that his appearance his sharp so that others take him seriously.

Great confidence in himself, which is healthier than vanity.

W- wedding

The wedding wouldn’t be as massive as one would expect for a royal monarch. In fact, it might just be the two of you, plus maybe a friend or two to witness. Though the wedding is small, it is no less intimate, and perhaps a little more heartfelt than an average wedding. He’ll almost cry when he says his vows, because he means every word. He’s so blessed to finally make you part of his life.

X- xenial

Not exactly the most hospitable type. He could be taught some manners. He doesn’t take anyone’s coat or offer them anything to drink.

However, if a friend of yours visits, then he’ll muster some respect and treat them like an honorable guest. However, he’s going to need some guidance from you.

Y- yawn

Dracula doesn’t get bored very easily. The only time he does is when someone tells him something he already knows. This is a man who likes to constantly learn– about others, about the world, about life, etc. He gathers information in every conversation. And if it’s his love, then he’s never going to get bored.

Z- zany

Dracula doesn’t really have a goofy sense of humor, though he loves jokes.

Sometimes he turns into the joke itself when he doesn’t get something, or he does something silly by accident. You giggle, and he just sits there confused.

[rangerofpelor]

5, 8, 13, 22 for your pick~

“rolled” for it and got 12 (aeron/ortega), 9 (mira/lukas), and 6 (antonio/anders)

5. What activities do they enjoy together?

AERON/ORTEGA: training/working out /sparring together i think was their big “us time” back in aeron’s ranger days. i also like to think they both watched and played sports together a lot. i feel like ortega is into soccer, and aeron, like any good midwestern boy, plays and watches baseball, and every now and then they’ll throw/kick a ball around.

MIRA/LUKAS: let’s just say that lukas was never really one for dancing until mira came along....other than that tbh i think they just enjoy being in each other’s company...lukas teaches mira some basic survival skills and will take her camping, hiking, sailing occasionally, and mira will share some of her own skills with him (can’t really go into specifics since she’s not my character, but yeah...)

ANTONIO/ANDERS: again...being in each other’s company is probably all they really need. i’d say cooking together is something they’d do, but lbr that’d just be toni doing all the work with anders sitting in the kitchen, working on his manifesto and occasionally taste-testing things whenever toni offers the spoon to him. but it’s warm and comfortable and domestic and just...very good...

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

AERON/ORTEGA: god aeron was so starstruck. i imagine ortega was in the game quite a few years before aeron was, and he really looked up to charge. n then he actually met ortega and he thought that he was the most handsome and charming and perfect human being he’d ever met....and tbh very little has changed since then...he still thinks those things about dear ricardo and everything hurts...

MIRA/LUKAS: lmaoooo lukas thought mira was the biggest brat he’d ever seen, and mira thought that lukas was pretentious, rude, and a massive asshole. they didn’t necessarily hate each other but....they definitely annoyed each other quite a bit.

ANTONIO/ANDERS: lmao well, anders thought that toni was just another lowtown thug sent to bully and harass him and the people he was helping at his clinic, so like...it wasn’t great...toni generally thought that anders was noble and a good person doing his best to help and take care of those kirkwall has cast aside...but also anders straight up called toni “boy” so...he was not a fan of that condescension which...uh...he didn’t appreciate... 

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

AERON/ORTEGA: well...aeron certainly isn’t going to give up on his mission..his emotions regarding ortega are...complicated....and while he doesn’t want to necessarily hurt (or kill) ortega....he knows it’s a possibility and that there might come a point where he won’t have a choice but to do so....but also on the other hand, flexing his power and instilling fear feels good and...if he can beat or frighten ortega into submission...maybe he won’t have to worry about all that....regardless, aeron’s made up his mind and he’s committed to what he’s doing and not even ortega could talk him out of it.

MIRA/LUKAS: i know this is kind of a cop out, but lukas would never let mira fail or let her give up or let her settle for less than what he knows she’s capable of. he’s kind of harsh about it tho which is...not the best...mira could be like “i can’t do this,” and then lukas will be like “you’re wrong. do it again, only better.” 

ANTONIO/ANDERS: again this feels like a cop out but toni would absolutely never give up on anders or leave him alone, undefended for long periods of time (like realistically toni probably wouldn’t have answered varric’s letter in inquisition)....toni’s lost every goddamn member of his blood family, there’s no way in hell that he’s going to lose the most important member of his found family. 

22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

AERON/ORTEGA: probably not but like...there would probably be a very small chance they’d meet...before gaining his telepathy powers, aeron was well on his way to either becoming a marine or going to prison. had he gone to prison, they probably wouldn’t have met, but if he had become a marine, depending on where he was sent, there’s definitely a chance the two could have met and developed a relationship

MIRA/LUKAS: it’d certainly be less likely, but i think there’s a small chance they might...magic in lukas’s family is generally passed from mother to daughter, so if his life was what it was supposed to be originally intended at birth, then he wouldn’t be able to do magic at all, but i can imagine that his mom might still take him to the council’s castle occasionally....alternatively i can imagine his mom taking mira on as a student and meeting mira that way....

ANTONIO/ANDERS: again i think it’d be possible. u kno...assuming anders wasn’t born a mage and didn’t set that barn on fire when he was a kid and didn’t go to the circle...he’d still be a part of his village in ferelden....and i can easily imagine the hawke family coming in during their migrations away from templars to keep malcolm and bethany safe, and i can defs see toni and anders somehow meeting that way. 

[minimonojoon]

crystal snow

g e n r e: angst, bittersweet ending tho; p a i r i n g: yoongi x reader; w o r d s: 3k+ words. s u m m a r y: yoongi perfectly knows how much she loves the snow and he prays it will be the sole thought to bring a little joy to her; w a r n i n g s: mentions of depression, mental illness, swearing;

a/n: the pov is yoongi’s and he refers to the reader in a third person. talking about a delicate topic such as depression is not easy and most of the stuff in this fic is from my personal experience + the researches I’ve done about the topic. I’m always scared as hell posting this, so reviews and comments are always appreciated! also: this was inspired by crystal snow and while writing it I was listening to breathe me by sia and where’s my love by syml (alternate version). enjoy! <3

The incessant ticketing of the clock on the cramped kitchen’s wall echoes through the darkness of the apartment. Everything is quiet, still covered in the shadows of a day that is yet far away to start. The cold weather outside and the lack of heating makes the air ungodly freezing, pinching at Yoongi’s body unpleasantly, as he grunts his sleep away by scrunching his eyes and reprimanding a yawn. He surely hates winter, at least when he can’t afford a heating system that would allow him not to find extremely hard to leave his bed in the mornings – not that he wants to, anyway.

He sighs with satisfaction as his early morning routine starts with a highly needed dose of caffeine, probably the only good thing in his days lately, and looks up at the clock on the wall. He scrunches his nose at the sound, unnervingly loud in his ears as it’s the only companion he has right now. As he voices a grunt of displeasure having already finished his coffee, he restrains himself from throwing something at that damn thing on the wall.

I could try, he thinks, maybe that would catch her attention. Maybe she could wake up and enter the kitchen. Yoongi smiles bitterly, closely analyzing the state of this part of his small apartment. There are few dishes from past days left in the sink, the result of his tiredness (or, to be honest, just plain laziness) from work, and on the two counters and the tiny table near the window there are remains of instant noodles and ready-made pasta sauces. And he’s not even mentioning the emptiness of their fridge. Probably she’d kill him, if she knew the state of their shared kitchen. Or any other part of their tiny space they were able to find after a long, exhausting research.

Days have become much slower, unhealthier and unhappy since she’s not around anymore. He loved the way she would wake up only to share the mornings together, even if she started work hours later. Her sleepy smile is extremely missed, as the way she always swatted his arm when he grunted to her, scolding her for spilling precious drops of coffee on the counter. She constantly forgot to wear her glasses first thing in the morning, and that was the result.

Yoongi scruffs his feet on the wooden pavement as he reaches again their bedroom, quietly picking up his clothes from the closet so he can get ready for another boring day of work. He turns around and glances at her, studying her sleeping form. She’s balled under tons of blankets, but Yoongi can perfectly distinguish her hand under her cheek and her long, messy hair partially covering her eyes. Her expression, as far he can presume, is deep into slumber. He exhales a relieved sigh. At least she’s getting a little of sleep.

The times he caught her awake, watching outside their window where houses, buildings and the far away skyline of the city could be seen, are uncountable. And whenever she realizes Yoongi is watching her, completely stilled as he’s facing a rare species for the first time, his worried gaze on her, she would close her eyes and pretend nothing happened. Or worse, she would glance again outside, her eyes watery. Times like that are the only ones where Yoongi would finally made eye contact with her. For brief moments, he’s able to study her gentle features, the round shape of her bright eyes and the petals that formed her mouth.

Now, those same eyes were deprived from their vivacity, as her cheeks are constantly pale – the adorable shade of color that tinted them each time she returned home was just a faint memory. Her strangely squeaky laugh, that Yoongi would never admit he loved so much, doesn’t fill their apartment like it used to.

Yoongi often asks himself what she thinks whenever their eyes met. What’s passing through her mind in that precise moments, and why she always pretends she’s sleeping although he perfectly knows she’s not. Sometimes, he’s terrified how he isn’t able to reach her as he was used to do before. There were few things in life he was sure of, and one of them was being able to read her – recognizing the curve of her lips whenever she finds something funny but couldn’t say it out loud due to inappropriateness, or the way she fidgets her fingers whenever she’s embarrassed. Her body is like a panorama he couldn’t possibly be tired of. He could close his eyes and follow every inch and scrape of her features, naming each scrape and angle.

The person she’s right now isn’t her, he finds himself thinking frequently. It’s an empty shell that lays on a bed that isn’t warm anymore, not when they don’t talk, laugh or make love on it. Not when the complicity they shared is shattered, and no matter how much effort he puts in trying to recompose the pieces together, nothing seems to work. It’s like extending a hand that, for a few inches, isn’t reachable. It’s frustrating as hell and Yoongi’s blood boils whenever the thought crosses his mind. He then can’t do anything but breaking things, crying, screaming. He is desperate.

As a mouse trapped into a labyrinth, going crazy because he can sense there’s a way out of this whole mess, but he isn’t able to find it.

Yoongi tugs too roughly on his pants, almost tripping on himself while walking to their bathroom as a wave of rage he’s barely able to control almost drowns him. He faintly hears her moving on the bed, the comfy covers shuffling and a soft moan escaping her lips. He stops himself midway, checking her out with frenetic eyes. He doesn’t breathe as he desperately hopes that maybe today she’ll say something to him. Even if it’s a mere breathed and angry be quiet, he really doesn’t care. Probably, Yoongi would cry right then and there for hearing her voice again.

It’s frustrating, not knowing how to help her. Yoongi shuffles his black hair and tugs on the bangs, because her world has crumbled and his miserably with hers. He feels in a painful limb, where their hands, once tangled strongly together, are slowly untying. And he’s unable to stop this horribly, faithful they seem will face incredibly soon.

Yoongi can’t exactly point when everything begun. There isn’t a precise moment, or an event he can recall that makes him thinks that’s why, and he’s safe to say he hates himself because he wasn’t able to read the little signs he now knows she leaved him, or whenever she shrugged off her discomfort and he didn’t insist enough to talk to her, to let her relish her feelings onto him. He would have take everything she gave him. Everything.

This past year hasn’t been easy for them. Damn, it’s not just this one year, he bitterly thinks. Their economical situation has drastically dropped into a more precarious, insidious one. Being young and with wide dreams doesn’t help at all in the ruthless world they lived in, nor it is realizing that life mostly gives you lemons and what the fuck, most of the times you can’t even make a proper lemonade – not when they were risking losing everything they worked hard for. They have given their blood, sweat and tears to find the cramped apartment they are sharing now, frantically searching for something they could simply afford. Their neighborhood isn’t the fanciest, nor the one with that pretty view she loved so much, but at least they found something that’s theirs, and theirs only.

For a while, everything was fine. Although they kept struggling with their work schedules and tired exhales were made whenever their limbs ached returning home, Yoongi distinctly saw a tiny sparkle in their future, the kind that allowed him to dream a little for themselves. He dreamed of her continuing her studies, reaching the goals she set for herself, and for him to brush his fingers onto his piano again. The soft looks and quiet smiles they shared made Yoongi aware they were both thinking about that future, and he knew, no, he was sure they saw the same sparkle.

But then everything vanished into the thin air, like ashes raised into the wild, freezing wind.

First, it was the way she dragged herself outside bed, and slowly lost her smile. Then it was the way she could cheer him up in the first lights of mornings with a caress or a whispered loving word, whenever he was too tired even to properly think, that vanished away. Her somber presence gradually took over her solar one, and soon enough everything she did became mechanical, dull and without no reason other than not let herself and Yoongi starve. That is, until now.

Yoongi glances again to the bundle of covers she was under, and briefly shakes his head. He’s unaware of the motif behind her sudden worsening of conditions. The only thing he remembers is the door slumming shut too early for her shift to be ended, and her feet that stumbled until she reached their bedroom, hastily leaving her shoes and clothes behind to let the covers engulf her. He presumed it was something about work, and for a brief, frightening moment he believed she was fired. But after a few days, when he received a telephone call from her employee asking why she wasn’t present at work, Yoongi had a hard time even stuttering two words coherently. He briefly asked if something particular happened, but when he received a shrugged response he told her boss she was sick.

That was almost two weeks ago. And that unease sensation Yoongi felt when he had that call, isn’t still leaving him at peace. His senses are on full alert, as if something worse could happen any moment. If he tries to feed her, she refuses. If he tries to talk to her, she’s completely quiet. Sometimes, he faintly hears her in the middle of the night, when she probably thinks he’s deeply asleep, walking into the bathroom, crying. She then walks around the apartment with no apparent reason, then she comes back to bed.

The last time he heard her was two days ago. Although his eyes were close shut, Yoongi could perfectly picture her eyes filled with tears, scrolling through her puffed, rose tinted cheeks, while her hand anxiously dragged her hair back, her shoulders hiccupped uncontrollably. He needed to control himself just to not scream or punch the first object in his sight, restraining himself from intervening. The last time he tried didn’t ended well.

Yoongi exhales. His morning routine is now finished and even if he’s apparently ready to face another day at work, he doesn’t feel like it, at all. The weather seems to perfectly accompany him with his grey clouds and dull light, and he bitterly smiles to himself, mockingly thinking it could be the suitable entrance of a character in those tv dramas she occasionally watches.

He hears her stir in her sleep again, and suddenly the curiosity takes better of him and his feet step closer to her side of their bed, her closed eyes and long eyelashes entering Yoongi’s view. The pout she formed tells him she’s not having a peaceful sleep anymore, nor the way her strain of hair on her temples are damped. Munching on his lower lip, he hesitates, his hand hovering over her form, unsure to touch her. He doesn’t do it anymore, since the day she started to fly away from his feathery, loving touches. He takes a deep breath again and right then she murmurs something unintelligible, brows furrowed and painting slightly.

Before Yoongi can ponder about anything else, his hand is on her forehead, waving away bangs of wet hair. His expression softens and at the same times covers with such a melancholy, the moment her expression relaxes onto his touch. He’s unwilling to let that caress go to fast, finally able to physically do something to shove away the pain and distress in her. His hand strokes her cheeks, flowing to her hair with such a delicacy and then going back, too afraid of breaking her, of waking her. He blinks a few times, realizing his eyes are wet with tears, feeling the lump in his throat suffocating him.

When his first sob leaves his lips, he shies away from her.

He fiddles with his jacket, quickly grabbing his things before he’s out of the apartment. The cold air of December hits him like a firetruck, but it’s so welcomed he doesn’t care the slightest. The freezing temperature of the morning dries the tears on his cheeks in seconds, and he inhales profoundly as his mind starts to clear. He needs to be strong for her and support her in the way she needs the most. How to do that, though? The only he’s aware of how hard is to watch someone you genuinely care for rotting and can’t be able to reach them. He desperately wants her to know he is there and she’s not alone. That they can do it, together.

Yoongi runs his hands into his hair, messing them and grunting loudly. He covers his eyes for a few moments, trying to recollect himself before he’s out there into the lively, busy streets that he needs to cross in order to go to work. He doesn’t even care his scarf doesn’t cover him properly, not shielding for a particularly powerful gust of wind that has his skin growing with goosebumps. His onyx eyes are glued to the pavement of the sidewalk, his lips are thighed together, almost fully white.

Then, something extremely cold and small brushes the tip of his nose and after a few moments, another one is on his right cheek. His expression distorts into confusion, as his eyes flutter to realize it’s a snowflake. A tiny, little one that hasn’t melted yet. It’s still there and oh, they’re starting to descend gradually into the ground. The time stops for a few moments, as his lips quiver before finally open into a small circle. His nose is up in the air as he watches the morbid shade of gray that covers the sky. The perfect hue that calls for snowfall, as his grandfather always used to say.

Yoongi stops abruptly, recalling the first time he and her saw the snow together. Well, that was the first time she saw snow falling. As she lived in a country where for the most part of the year it was warm and sunny weather, the white little freckles were something endearing to her, almost magical to her eyes, the way they covered everything in white. Pure, enchanting, marvelous, adjectives Yoongi also associates her with. He can perfectly picture her eyes glinting with glee, her brightest smile painted and her cheeks red from joy and the cold hitting her face. She couldn’t stay still for a moment, as shrieks of excitement filled her mouth, catching each snowflake and showing him the most defined ones. “They’re amazing, Yoongs! Look at this one!”, she was thrilled and Yoongi didn’t restrain himself from smiling at her, his heart doing somersaults to see her so happy. “Promise me we’ll going to live somewhere where snows at least once a year,” she exclaimed laughing, and Yoongi found himself nodding without hesitation.

The memory fills his brain and his heart, as his stomach drops and he’s gulping again. He knows the littlest details could make the difference sometimes, when everything they see is just plain, pitch black. He’s so desperate he clutches uncontrollably to that thought, while his legs move before he could think straight and he’s quickly coming back home. If she sees it, maybe she’ll smile. If she sees the snow, maybe she’ll think not everything is falling apart.

He is panting uncontrollably when he reaches the apartment complex he lives in, fumbling with the keys and storming to the stairs, covering two scales at the time. He doesn’t care if he’s doing a mess, if he’ll get scolded or he wakes her up abruptly entering the house. She must see the snow. She must know there’s still something good in her life.

By the time he’s entering the apartment, silence greats him. Everything is in the exact same way he left it, the air slightly stained and the fastidious rumors of the pipes interrupts every now and then the godly stillness of the entire apartment. Yoongi shuffles to their bedroom, not bothering to leave his jacket or any of his things behind him.

The moment he enters the rooms, his breaths itches and his eyes widen. His limbs don’t respond anymore, as he stays still in the entrance, his mouth slightly agape. His breath is accelerated, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. He engulfs her waking and sitting form, her back turned to him, her hair messy and the old pinky pajama she’s wearing completely creased. Her face is turned to the window, where it’s now clearly visible the snowflakes that fall.

There isn’t a word that comes from Yoongi’s mouth, neither from hers too. But he’s sure she knows he is in the room, so with soft, silent steps he approaches her, totally terrified he could scare her away. Yoongi can hear his beating heart into his ears, roaring furiously as glances at her eyes glued to the window. They’re watery, he notices, but there is a different glint into them, her lips quivering. She’s gazing the snow as if she has just been awaken from a long, exhausting dream. Her breathes fills the room, slightly ragged.

Then, as she’s finally acknowledge his presence in his room, she turns to him. Yoongi is now fully looking at her ethereal and beautiful features, how the soft curves of her cheeks and the eyes he so much adores are eventually looking at him, seeing him for the first time in months. It strikes him she’s still alive, breathing and awake. Yoongi exhales deeply, taking in his lungs as much air as possible so he doesn’t crumble in front of her. His mind is blank white and focused on her form that is coloring his soul and mind again. He isn’t aware of how many minutes passes, how they observe each other in a stilled silence that no one dares to break.

At last, her lips move to form a smile, as her head move slightly in the way she always does when something particularly makes her glinting, her eyes forming crescents.

“Yoongs, it’s snowing.” Her voice is throaty yet endearing, surprised even.

“I know,” he cracks, smiling a little.

And then, his arms are wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 13; A Brother’s sacrifice

Alright guys prepare yourselves and get the tissues out because we are at the most SADDEST part of our story, I have followed through exactly like the AOU plot so you all know what’s coming up next right. Well prepare yourselves because I was CRYING when I first typed this chapter up and couldn’t stop until the end. Take advantage of the snack tray I will lay out for you guys and have your tissues ready because THIS WILL MAKE YOU CRY.

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The dust settled, rubble scattered along the ground, silence filled the air and yet I felt no pain.  I slowly raised my head wondering is the quinjet had misfired at me. 

When I turned I saw a car had gotten behind me and shielded me from the bullets but—how did it get there? It was then I turned to my right I was welcomed to a horrifying sight. 

Pietro was standing there barely holding onto life with bullet holes all over his upper body and arms.  His eyes barely glistening with the vibrant life he once had. 

My face contorted to utter horror as he croaked out with the last ounce of strength he had left and a faint smile.

“Just like Little Grey, Wolfie” then he collapsed to the floor dead.  I soon heard Wanda’s agonizing scream and I set Costel down before crying out myself and scrambling towards Pietro’s body.  I wept and kept repeating to myself.

“Big Grey. Big Grey come on. You gotta get up. Come on Big Grey. We gotta get back and get Wanda!” But no matter how much I shook him or nudged him, he remained motionless.

I didn’t want to believe it but I knew it was true.  Pietro Maximoff, my Big Grey was dead.  Because of me.  I wept hysterically as I took him in my arms rocking him.  I placed his head close to my chest and held his face in my hands as I rocked him and wept.

It wasn’t until Steve knelt down and tried to take Pietro out of my arms while Clint took Costel.  I muttered quietly begging Steve not to take Big Grey away from me, I held on tightly to Pietro’s shirt trying to pull him back into my arms but Steve soon was holding Pietro’s body in his arms and he looked down at me with sympathy.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), but we need to go” he only told me.  I looked up only to then see something flying down off the quinjet that had fired at me towards the ground just a few yards from where I was, I soon took notice of who it was. 

Ultron. 

He killed Big Grey.  He’s the reason why he’s dead well now he’s gonna pay, and this time he’ll be afraid.  My eyes turned pure black and I took off running as fast as I could as I could towards Ultron as Bad Wolf.

On the lifeboat, Steve gently set down Pietro’s body on the floor while Clint walked up towards Zrinka and handed Costel over to her as the two of them wept and held onto each other happily reunited. Clint took notice of a wound on his waist and groaned before finally setting himself down on a seat.  As a medical person came up to him he simply answered.

“No, no I’m fine, I’m fine. Its uhh—been a long day” He then laid down across the seats that happened to be right next to Pietro’s body and he passed out from exhaustion. 

On the bus where Ultron had landed, Wanda waved her hand that was emitting her energy as she walked up soullessly to Ultron and knelt down beside him as Ultron softly spoke.

“Wanda. If you stay here, you’ll die”.

“I just did, do you know how it felt?” Suddenly a large paw pinned Ultron down and he was now staring into the eyes of Bad Wolf herself.  She lunged right snarling and growling at his chest and slowly and painfully ripped it open using both fang and claw until she reached Ultron’s core and clamped onto it with her fangs and slowly and agonizingly pulled on it like she did to Zola just three years ago until she finally ripped it right out of him deactivating him.

Wanda only scowled with pure hatred at Ultron as she held out her hand and Bad Wolf dropped the core right into her hand like a ball and Wanda just looked at it before turning back to Ultron sneering.

“It felt like zhat”.  My eyes narrowed with pure hatred as this whole mess was finally over.  Suddenly my ears perked up at the sound of the core being wired down and then we took an immediate drop.

I took ahold of Wanda’s jacket and dug my claws into the bus floor trying to keep us from flying around.  I then felt her hand softly grip onto my neck when suddenly I felt another touch on my back and I was suddenly phased back into my human form.

It was then Vision had come in and had me right on his back with my arms around his neck while he held Wanda bridal style and then he took off flying and the next thing I saw was Sokovia being blown to smithereens. 

The rubble fell into the sea as did the vibranium core that Ultron had built and as Vision got me and Wanda on the Helicarrier before taking off again, I collapsed onto the floor and finally took everything. 

It was finished, but at what cost? Sokovia was destroyed, innocent people got caught in something they weren’t even a part of, and Pietro is—Wanda lost her twin forever, the only family she had left all because of my foolishness to play hero, cost her that only family she had left. 

After we had gotten the people of Sokovia back to New York to be taken care of as well as becoming citizens of America, the Avengers all decided on taking refuge in a new training facility that once belonged to Tony’s father back in the day.

It was located out in the forest region of New York.  Teams of scientists filled the place and began doing their work in honor of the Avengers, but that was also the place where in one wing specifically Pietro was kept for the time being giving Wanda and I a chance to say our last goodbyes.

The team also gathered to pay their respects to their recent fallen teammate who they would’ve named him, Quicksilver. Wanda was the first to mourn for the loss of her twin.

She knelt by her twin’s body which was now all cleaned up and wept silently gripping onto her brother’s cold, dead hand for the last time.  Just seeing her in this much pain made my heartache with so much guilt and regret.

It should’ve been me, not him. He still had a family left, I have no one.  At least if I died, the twins would’ve stayed together like they always have since they were orphaned together.  Finally I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I quickly ran out of the room and just ran down the hall until I was outside the facility trembling like a leaf.

I turned with red eyes brimming with tears at the facility.  All I ever did was bring pain to everyone around me, even when I try to be a Good Wolf for once, I end up hurting the only two people who cared most about me. 

Wanda lost her only family and Pietro is dead because of me.  I wouldn’t even be surprised if Wanda doesn’t ever look at me the same way again. She probably hates me because I killed her brother. 

As I slowly walked towards the forest ahead, my black collar was just lying there on the floor right along the side of the road. 

I just soullessly walked deep through the forest not even caring where I was going, or where I ended up. All I knew was that the Avengers didn’t need someone like me who just gets everyone killed and destroys families forever, that’s all I’ve been known to do.

I don’t know how long I was out but judging by the sun almost about to set in the sky I figured it had been awhile. Makes me wonder if anyone knew that I was even gone? Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t, it didn’t matter to me anyways.

I decided to rest for a while before I get back on the move and finally disappear forever.  I found myself some rabbits and a large cave big enough to sleep in as Bad Wolf.  I ate my kill in my wolf form and when I was done, I phased back into my human form and just curled myself up into a ball on the cave floor.

One upside to the experiments I was forced upon was that I no longer need to worry about getting cold since wolves have an undercoat of fur to keep them warm and when I’m human it’s like I have my own internal heater to keep me warm even when I’m human, so I never feel cold.

*A/N: Play at 1:45 Now this maybe hard for some of you but really let the music take u away for this scene*

I took notice of Pietro’s gift he gave me and it just made my heart break even more than it was already.  With him gone, I’ll always have to wear this gift out of regret knowing I’m the reason he’s dead.  I prepared a small enough fire and I slowly took the necklace off and just held it in my hand.

“I’m sorry Pietro”.  I regretfully held it over the fire but before I dropped it I heard a voice say.

“If you really hated it so much, you could’ve just told me when I first gave it to you”. I turned urgently to see Pietro leaning against the entrance of the cave.  I just looked at him in utter confusion and shock.  Was he really alive? When I inhaled for a scent, I didn’t get one. So was I hallucinating? Did I finally snap and go off the deep end because of my grief?

“How—”

“To answer your first question, sadly I am not alive. And no you’re not crazy Wolfie. Do you remember what Chief Waya once taught you about the departed spirits?” he said as he walked inside and sat down across from me.  It was then I did remember what he once told me.

It wasn’t specifically for the Aniwaya tribe but all Cherokee tribe believe that when a loved one departs from this world, sometimes they come as spirits or ghosts to guide us throughout our lives, so in that way we’d never be alone.

“Now tell me, if you hated that necklace so much why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again.  I took the necklace away from the fire and held it close to me as I whimpered.

“I don’t hate it. I’ve cherished it and loved it ever since you gave it to me”.

“Zhen why try to burn it?”

“Because I’d be wearing it knowing what I’ve done!” I cried out.  I sniffled and wiped away my tears harshly before continued, “it’s all my f-fault. If I hadn’t saved Costel you’d still be alive Pietro”.

“No Wolfie, if it had been either you or Barton I would’ve done the same thing”.

“But why Pietro? Wanda’s lost her only family, she’s all alone now, why would you sacrifice yourself for someone who had nothing to live for?!” I choked out as I scooted myself closer to him eyes red brimming with tears.

“Have you really not been paying attention you silly wolf?” He teased. I just looked at him offended when he continued, “you have so much to live for (y/n). Wanda won’t be alone, so long as she has you. The day we met you, after Strucker took us away from you Wanda and I made an agreement, if we were going to take you in as our sister and help you, zhen we needed you to know what family is willing to do for each other, even dying”. My eyes softening at his statement.

“Da. You and Wanda helped me regain my humanity” I stated happily before choking out, “and I will always be grateful to you both”. Pietro smiled at me lovingly.  “I just wish you were still here, Pietro”.

“I always am”. He gestured to the wolf totem in my hand and I nodded before looking down sadly.  I then wept as I crawled up to him and embraced him as tight as I could and he wrapped his arms around me.

His right hand stroking through my hair while his left hand rubbed my back in soothing circles.

“I love you so much Big Grey” I whimpered through my sobs.

“I love you too Wolfie”. We held onto each other for a bit longer and as I separated from him I saw him beginning to disappear. The last thing I saw was his eyes looking at me with such love but also sadness and a sad smile before he finally disappeared with the wind.

“I promise, I’ll take care of Mama Bear”.  I let out another sob still staring at where Pietro had stood only seconds ago.  I soon took a weak shaky breath in and then exhaled strongly finally calming myself down and sitting there with new found strength.

I walked out of the cave with Pietro’s totem proudly around my neck as I cried out.