#curling iron? Nuh uh.

[bunny-b-b-baby]

Can someone PLEASE tell me what demon the girlies with perfect hair sold their soul to in order to get those perfect blow out curls 😭😭😭 what witchcraft is it!!!! I want IN STOP GATEKEEPING PRETTY HAIR

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"NIGHT TIME RELIGION"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 2.3k+ → a/n: just a simple, sweet glimpse into what our favorite idiots' nighttime routine is like. probably got a little too poetic with it, as always <3

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

“You fell asleep again.” 

It’s not a question, just a mere observation. Eddie doesn’t even put any emphasis on the key word there, that it had happened again, as he glances up on you sprawled out on his couch. 

“Nuh uh,” you childishly rebuke, ironically squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you let your cheek nuzzle deeper into the page of the textbook you’d been taking notes on, “I’m… I’m wide awake.” 

Every word painfully slurs with your next, voice mostly muffled. If he hadn’t been so close to you from where he was sitting on the floor, he probably wouldn’t have been able to make out what you’d just murmured. 

It only makes him laugh softly as he focuses back on whatever piece of equipment he’d brought into the apartment that belongs to his bike, “Sure you are, sweetheart.” 

The coffee table is spread with hand towels and paper towels alike as Eddie fiddles with the hunk of metal. You hadn’t even prodded him about what it was he was fiddling with; you were too busy, knee deep in your studies as you’d made yourself comfortable in his living room. 

It was a normal routine now – something cozy, something domestic. Instead of being holed up in your dorm these days, you found yourself occupying apartment 2C far more frequently than you’d ever admit to anyone else. Half the time, the two of you didn’t even have plans. It wasn’t about elaborate date nights or purposeful hangouts anymore; these days, the two of you simply enjoyed one another’s presence. It was enough to just know he was there with you, in the same room, as the two of you were occupied with your own individual tasks. Sometimes, he would be reading a book as you wrote your essays. Sometimes, he’d steal your laptop to shop for new bike parts and accessories online as you caught up on your favorite TV shows. There had been plenty of phone calls with Nancy in which Eddie had let you simply rest your head in his lap, hands mindlessly carding through the scalp of your hair as he tried to offer assistance to his best friend’s daily troubles and rambles. 

It was nice, and it was normal, and it was something the rest of the world would have to pry from your cold, dead hands. 

The apartment could have easily become something akin to a prison after the bet, but it hadn’t. Instead, somehow and someway, you and Eddie had turned it into a proper sanctuary.

You no longer spent lectures daydreaming about returning to your dorm; your mind much preferred longing to return to Eddie’s room, to picture falling face down in his bed, where the pillow on the right side had begun to smell of your shampoo rather than his cologne. 

“It’s getting late,” he sighs when he hears you go silent again. He’s not annoyed by any means. If he had it his way, he’d probably curl up on the couch with you for the rest of the night, content to fall asleep to the view of your face smoothing out in peaceful rest. But he knows if he leaves you be, you’ll wake up with an aching back and an attitude that makes even Harrington cower. He puts down his project for the night, wiping his hands on a damp paper towel before he reaches blindly behind himself to give you a few taps on your rear, “C’mon, we need to get ready for bed.” 

You swat his hand away, and it only makes him grin, “It’s not that late. Plus, I’m comfy.” 

“It’s half past eleven, baby.” 

And oh, do you shoot straight up at that. 

Your eyes are finally wide open as you look at him wildly, face struck with confusion, “Excuse me?” 

“I said, it’s half past ele-”

“When the Hell did it get so late?” you fumble with yourself as he slowly gets up, making a show out of stretching all his limbs. You don’t even grow distracted when his arms reach well over his head and tug up his shirt, exposing that sliver of stomach that would normally entice you, “I swear to God, it wasn’t even ten like…. Ten minutes ago.” 

“Ten waking minutes ago, maybe,” he teases, holding a hand out for you, “Time flies when you’re napping instead of studying.” 

It’s hard for him to not smile so softly down at you right now, even as he watches the defeat take hold. Your entire outfit is compiled of his clothes, yet another t-shirt you’d snagged from him along with a pair of sweatpants that he can’t even remember the last time he’d worn them. Your hair is messy, falling out of the convenient style you’d fashioned in it hours before when you’d declared you needed to focus. Your shoulders sag, the corners of your mouth inch downward, and all he really cares about right now is getting you in bed so he can wrap himself up around you. 

Your eyes dart between his outstretched hand and your textbook, still open on a page that you’d embarrassingly drooled on, “I know we joked about celebrating when I aced my finals, but can we still get milkshakes when I absolutely flunk them?” 

The way you manage to melt his heart is impeccable. He doesn’t even have it in him to be snarky, or to make another menacing jokes, “Of course we can.”

That seems to make your decision. You finally reach out and take his hand, clearly trying to be dramatic as you pull on him with the entirety of your weight, almost as though your end goal was for him to actually end up beside you on the couch rather than to be standing beside him. 

If your goal is the former, you fail miserably. He doesn’t budge beneath your drag, only leaning forward to grab your other hand and properly haul you off the couch. 

“Oof,” you huff out as you collide with his chest from the force, letting your face smash into him and making no move to pull back, “Can’t you just carry me to bed? Is that an option?” 

He almost says yes. Almost. 

“We won’t even make it down the hall,” he chuckles, taking slow steps back, guiding you right along with him, “I may or may not have also dozed off at some point. Jury’s still out on that one.” 

“Is it?” 

You’re hardly lifting your feet, shuffling your way along, letting him walk you deceiving to the bathroom rather than the bedroom. He has no idea if you’ll be capable of doing your full skincare routine, but at the very least, he has to get you to brush your teeth. If he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. 

“It is indeed,” he finally stops walking backwards, deciding it might become more dangerous rather than just dragging you along, “Probably won’t get a ruling until morning, so we might as well brush our teeth now, doll.” 

He’s trying to sweeten the deal. Coaxing you with adoring pet names to keep you in motion. 

“Ugh, effort,” you crunch your nose as you say it, and it’s clearly more for show than anything now. You’re fully conscious, capable of getting yourself to the bathroom sink where both your toothbrushes now sit side-by-side in a glass cup, but you don’t let go of his hand just yet. 

His palm is warm, and right now, all you really wanna do is curl up in that heat. 

Eventually, though, you let go. The two of you stand in the mirror as you go through the motions of wetting your toothbrushes, applying the toothpaste – all the boring, mundane actions that are more habit than conscious choices. But interspersed in the habits you’ve gathered over your years of life are new ones, minimal but vital after the amount of time spent together. Proof of the way this nighttime routine had become something of a religion between the two of you, something to be offered and to be shared rather than simply going through the motions. 

The way Eddie carefully rolls the end of the toothpaste tube before passing it to you, simply so it’s easier for you to get your share of it. The way you leave the water running after you’ve wet your own brush just so Eddie can also do so. All the sneaky glances caught in the mirror as the corners of your mouths foam up. Every ridiculous face, every nimble bump of your hip to his, the way he sticks out his very white tongue at you before he spits out into the basin – new things that have all become the normal, but still settle warmth in your chest.

Things that water a garden of vinery and blooms that no longer only belong within the confine of your bones, but his as well. 

A shared garden of memories and comfort. Growing, flourishing, nurturing one another. 

You lean down to spit right before him, and when you take a second too long, he tugs on a strand of your hair, trying to move you. And even as tired as you are, you find it within yourself to be a little shit as he so lovingly mumbles out around his toothbrush, lingering until he’s bumping you with his hip with purpose. 

Passing the floss back and forth (or more like you shoving the floss into his hands before he can try to argue against it), using the same paper cup to sip mouthwash out of – something so bland that you used to do it alone, now something to enjoy with him. 

You kind of love it. You kind of love him. 

“Should I wash my face?” you question, leaning in closer to the mirror and poking at your cheeks, checking your skin for any blemishes you can find. 

Eddie only moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and making the entire ordeal far more difficult as his chin rests on your shoulder, “Not if you don’t feel like it. Besides, it’s gonna make your nose cold, and then you’re gonna press it all over my damn neck and-” 

You cut him off with a joking glare, reaching up to flick at his nose, but he’s quick to pull his face out of your reach. Smiling widely, showing off those fresh and minty pearly whites. 

“If my cold nose bothers you that much, I could just stay on my side of the bed tonight,” you scowl, even though you were already taking his advice and calling it a night, twisting out of his hold to flick the lightswitch and exit the bathroom. 

He’s still stronger as he keeps his arms in place, only twisting himself around to face the door frame right with you, whining in your ear, “No.” 

He drags out the ‘o’, his voice slowly growing more quiet the longer he draws out the vowel. At some point, it’s less than Eddie has ended the protest, and more that he’s just run out of breath. 

His arms only leave your waist for the two of you to get dressed in proper pajamas. Well, what you both consider proper pajamas. 

You, left in only his shirt and underwear, and Eddie simply in his boxers. 

There’s no more sarcastic comments or lazy banter, although you certainly expect it. You’re almost holding your breath for it, right up until Eddie’s lifting his comforter and eagerly motioning for you to climb into bed first. Not one smartass remark about ladies first that could easily backfire on him as you shoved him into the bed before you. 

No, he waits until the two of you are lying on your sides, facing one another, not quite touching when his face breaks into a radiant smile. 

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him, overly suspicious of his random burst of happiness. 

“You call it your side of the bed.” 

At first, you don’t get it, “What?” 

“You called it your side of the bed,” he repeats with the utmost emphasis, finally throwing his hand out in search of your own, pulling it up to eye-level so he can toy slowly with each of your knuckles. 

“Is it not?” you’re whispering like two children at a sleepover, your feet finally drifting to toe at his calves. If they’re too cold for his liking, you don’t know. He doesn’t flinch or complain, only spreads his legs ever so slightly so there’s a space left for you to fill as you intertwine limbs. 

“It is,” he confirms, nodding a little, finally slotting his fingers between your own, “Just nice to hear you say it out loud.” 

And suddenly, you get it.

It’s your side of the bed. It’s your toothbrush resting beside his. Your textbooks and laptops are still on his couch, you have a sticky note with a reminder for yourself to buy more milk  put up on the fridge, there’s now a space for your shoes at the front door right beside his daily boots – slowly but surely, you’ve whittled out spaces for yourself here, with him. 

Even when you’re not here in this apartment with him, your presence remains. Someone could walk in, and they still see traces of you. You exist here, constantly, right along with Eddie. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, finally scooching closer. He immediately shifts so that you can cuddle into his side, your head resting against his chest and your ear pressed to listen to his thrumming heartbeat. A perfectly carved out space for you even here, between this sheets, against his skin, “It’s nice to say out loud.” 

Not a routine, but a religion. Something to worship in the quiet hours between the sound of quiet snores and a noisy coffee maker you already have plans to replace as a Christmas gift to Eddie. An apartment turned altar, with offerings from both of you, to all that has and could become. 

You whisper your final prayer, just as you do every night, even when you think Eddie might already be fast asleep, “G’night, Eddie. I love you.” 

He’s not already asleep. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

[tayraedoll]

My Compliments to the Chef

Part 2 of the series- You go on your date; Alastor gives you some unusual cooking lessons and the ovens aren't the only things getting hot.

Part 1

TW: Self-consciousness, mild sexual situations, sensory deprivation, flashbacks, hurt/comfort, swearing

You stared down at the dress on your bed. It had been neatly laid out when you returned to your room the night before with a message scrawled in the most elegant handwriting you had ever seen:

Don't be late Darling - A

The dress was gorgeous- all black with a halter top, knee-length pleated skirt, and a thin belt around the middle. The fabric felt sturdy, no doubt it was expensive. He even gifted you a pair of black stilettos to pair with it.

You bit your lip nervously, of course you were nervous about going on a date with Alastor, but what caused your heart rate to spike at the moment was the thought of wearing this dress. It was definitely considered modest-to Alastor's taste- but the halter top would show the entirety of your arms...there was no way to hide the scars that littered your skin. Could you wear a jacket? Would that be considered rude?

You sighed, if you didn't get changed soon then you would be late...and you did not want to find out what Alastor would do if you kept him waiting after he explicitly told you to be on time. You paired the dress with simple silver hoop earrings and a bracelet and dabbed on dark merlot-red lipstick. Overall you looked good...if you could ignore your arms. You swiftly left the bathroom, not wanting to look in the mirror more than necessary. Snatching a small clutch you made your way to the lobby.

You caught sight of Alastor as you descended the stairs- he had traded his normal red pinstriped suit for a black one with coattails. He wore a bright red bow tie and he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail that exposed his undercut. You were so preoccupied with ogling at him that you missed a step and had to catch yourself on the railing to save yourself from an embarrassing fall the rest of the way down the staircase.

When you safely reach the ground level Alastor turns with a cheerful grin and confidently strides up to you, "You look absolutely ravishing Darling!" His hand reached for yours and gently brought it to his lips. "Give us a twirl!", he raised your hand above your head and you slowly rotated on the toe of one heel for him, a happy smile curling across your own face at his antics. "Tu es magnifique."

You blush at the barrage of compliments and nervously cough,"Shall we go then?", you start towards the door only for for the demon deer to wrap an arm around your waist.

"Nuh-uh-uh! Not that way My Dear! I would not subject you to walking in those shoes all the way across the Pride Ring. No, we shall be traveling in style!", he adjusted his bow tie and puffed out his chest. He pulled you flush against him and leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Hold on tight Darling."

You gasp as your vision suddenly went black and your feet were no longer on solid ground. Your grip on Alastor's coat was iron-clad as you reacted to the sudden weightlessness of your body. Then, just as soon as it began it was over, but instead of being in the hotel lobby you found yourself on the sidewalk outside a beautiful white-brick building. You were so busy taking in your new surroundings you didn't notice that you never let go of Alastor until he chuckled at you, "Oh! Sorry!", you jumped away from him and hid your blush by smoothing your dress down.

Alastor approached the little mouse demon hostess, she looked up at the much taller demon with a friendly smile, "Good evening Mr. Alastor sir! We have your table ready!" She hopped off her stool, barely coming up to The Radio Demon's knees, to lead the way to your dinner table.

The inside of the restaurant was just as stunning as the outside. It was all polished birch wood with black and gold accents and was dimly lit except for a small stage with a live pianist playing a relaxing tune. The chairs were dark with gold cushions, the tables adorned with white tablecloths, gold napkins, and black roses served as the centerpieces.

The hostess deftly placed the menus on the table and filled the water glasses, "Your server will be right with you!" Alastor held your chair out and motioned for you to take a seat before pushing it in.

"Oh Al, this place is breathtaking!", you take one last awed look around before unfolding your menu.

"Hmm yes, this place is certainly a bit of a hidden gem. There are certain types that won't give it a fair chance due to the staff actually."

"What do you mean?", you give him a perplexed look.

Just then, another cheerful mouse demoness approached your table, but she was significantly taller than the hostess. No, not a mouse...a rat. "Ah Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!", she chirped. "And who is it you've brought with you? She sounds lovely!", the rat turned to you then, her eyes were completely white and foggy as if she had milk on her lenses. It took you a second to understand- she was completely blind.

"Tilly, my dear friend! This is Y/N, she is a chef as well and I thought I'd bring her here tonight to experience all La Rodere has to offer", Alastor smiled kindly between you and Tilly despite her not being able to see it. "I'll just have my usual Tilly, if you don't mind. Although, perhaps a bottle of champagne instead of whiskey tonight."

"Of course! And what can I get you Sweetheart?", she faced you expectantly.

You quickly glance at the menu again,"Could I get the Poulet a la Moutard Francaise please?"

"Yes ma'am! It's a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I do hope you enjoy yourself this evening!", with that Tilly scampered off to fetch the champagne and turn in your order.

"You have impeccable taste My Dear", Alastor eyed you slyly.

"I take it that is your usual order?", you smiled over your glass of water at him.

"Correct! Now come along, or we will miss the show!", he grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the swinging doors that hid the kitchen from the dining area.

"Alastor! I don't think they would want us back there!", you admonished the chaotic demon.

"Nonsense! I join the kitchen all the time Darling! HAHAHA", he laughed at your bewildered face. "I assure you, you are in for quite a treat."

Upon entering the kitchen you were met with a small kitchen that was neatly kept. The smells of all the French cuisine hit your nose warmly causing you to take a deep breath in. Cozy- that was how you would describe this kitchen. There were three other rat demons similar to Tilly working at the space's center. Two more with the milky eyes and one with jet black eyes.

"Y/N, meet Tilly's siblings- Lilly, Billie, and Stew. They will be preparing our meals tonight!", Alastor introduced you, though none of the three chefs reacted to your presence at all. There was something that just seemed...off, but you couldn't decide what it was.

Just then, Tilly came in and joined her siblings at the center of the kitchen. A copy of the restaurants menu was laid out on the counter, she skimmed over the menu with with her fingers until she found the dish that you and Alastor chose. The rat with the beady, black eyes glanced at the item Tilly pointed to and began preparing the chicken and the mustard sauce. Once you began to get your first whiffs of the food, the third rat started blending various spices together, not using any measuring tools at all and continuously taking large sniffs at the mixture.

"What's happening Al?"

"You may be familiar with the three blind mice, but what about the four rats with only one sense each?", Alastor chuckled at you.

"One sense? What do you mean?", you ask as the rodent with the spices let out a hum of approval and mixed the blend into the dish. The beady-eyed rat then placed it in the oven to finish cooking.

"Tilly is the only one that can hear, hence the reason she takes the orders. Her sister Lilly is the only one that can see, so she begins the dish preparations and does the plating. Billie, being both blind and deaf, has a peculiar sense of smell. She does all the spice blends and knows when the dish is ready to plate and serve", Alastor explained as you watched on completely mesmerized. Just like he said, Billie clasped Lilly on the arm, which Lilly responded to by immediately pulling the food out not even bothering to temp it.

"So what does Stew do?", you nod to the last rat in the group.

"Oh, Stew has the most important job of all! Not a dish goes out that he does not taste test first!"

Lilly placed a spoon in the mustard sauce and lifted it to Stew's lips; he paused momentarily as the sauce caressed his taste buds. He reached out and felt around various spices with different tops in front of him until he found the salt which he sprinkled over the top of the dish before nodding his approval. Lilly divided the food between two plates and handed them to Tilly.

"Your dinner is ready!", she cheerfully called to the two of you. Alastor placed your arm through his and led you back to your table where your champagne was already waiting. He once again pulled your chair out for you and tucked you under the table before taking his seat.

The food was positively divine, possibly the best you had ever eaten. You chewed slowly, savoring each bite; thinking of how each individual leaned into their strengths to pull the meal together flawlessly.

"Penny for your thoughts my Dear?", Alastor broke you from your reverie.

You smirked back at him, "Are my thoughts worth so little?" Your smile softens as he laughs, but then you frown. "I feel sorry for them...I can't imagine only having one sense. Not only in everyday life but in the kitchen especially; part of what makes being a chef so fun is getting to use all the senses to create a masterpiece."

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose, but they all get to enjoy it in their own way. The unique artistry of their preparations is a large part of why I am so fond of this place."

You reached a hand out to his slowly, allowing him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn't as your fingers tentatively caressed the back of his hand, "Thank you for bringing me here, I feel honored that you have entrusted me with one of your secret indulgences."

His other hand came up to run his claws over your hand, you flinch back slightly when they run over the exposed, red skin of your arm. It did not hurt, but you were afraid it would repulse him. You bring your hand back to yourself and shift uncomfortably for a second, skin tingling slightly. You don't notice the crimson eyes studying your reaction.

"There's a reason I brought you here specifically, your training begins tomorrow."

Your head snaps back up to him,"What training?"

You stand there in the kitchen nervously, wondering what Alastor was going to have you make. The prospect of cooking for The Radio Demon thrilled you, there was so much that you could learn from someone with his experience. But the anxiety gnawed at you, he made it clear he was not a fan of your cooking, what were you supposed to make to impress him?

"Ah good evening My Dear!", speak of the demon himself..."What are we making today?"

Oh? He was planning on cooking WITH you?! This was an unexpected but exciting turn of events; there were so many advanced dishes he could help you with!

"OOO maybe a turducken?! I have always wanted to try making one! We could start with- OW!!", Alastor had flicked you right between the eyes rather hard, your hand flying up to rub the sore spot on your forehead.

"No, we are not teaming up to make some ridiculous frankendish monstrosity. We are here so that you can learn how to speak through your dishes. Put yourself on a plate! Now, what is something you enjoy cooking? What's a dish that you enjoy eating? Not for how pretty it is or how well you have mastered it, but something that you feel genuine emotion for? Preferably something simple."

You frowned at him, a dish you were emotional about? You had to think, most dishes that evoked any emotion in you conjured negative feelings due to failing at them. You highly doubted that's what he had in mind. After a moment, an idea finally popped into your head, "What about tuna melts? I used to make them all the time when I was in culinary school, they were fast and easy to make between classes."

"Excellent! Tell me, what are the ingredients?"

As you listed your ingredients off they suddenly appeared on the table one-by-one. After all ingredients were gathered you set out to start your prep when Alastor grabbed your arm, "Not so fast Dear, there is one more thing I did not tell you." With a snap of his fingers, your vision was suddenly non-existent. You gabbed onto the counter to ground yourself as your world suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Alastor! What the fuck are you doing?! I can't cook if I can't see!"

"Oh, but you can Darling! You just witnessed two blind rats cook yesterday!"

"Lilly did the cooking and she had sight!"

"Well, then it is a good thing I am here! I shall be your eyes today", he leaned in close, his chest just centimeters from your back. An expected shiver traveled up your spine as if his static was prickling directly at your skin. "You worry too much about aesthetic perfection, hone in on your other senses for a bit. Learn to let go."

You bit your lip in contemplation, "You won't let me hurt myself right?"

You felt more than heard his low chuckle vibrate across your shoulders, giving you another involuntary shiver. His fingers trailed down your sleeve-covered arms to where your hands still gripped the counter, "I promise no blood will be spilled this day."

Your breath hitched slightly as he dislodged your fingers from the counter, as your posture straightened you back became flush with his chest. Was he always this much taller than you? It felt like he was towering over you, his breath caressing your scalp and blowing your hair slightly. He leaned impossibly closer to you, "Now, walk me through how to make this dish."

His hands guided yours through cutting your french loaves. You focused intently on your sense of smell, trying to gauge when just the right amount of garlic was added to your butter when it became fragrant. It was hard to concentrate on the food though, with Alastor's cologne filling your nostrils with every inhale. You felt the demon flinch back slightly when you opened the cans of tuna.

"You sustained yourself by consuming cat food?", he asked incredulously.

"Hey! It's actually really good! Besides, you don't get to complain when you are a broke college student. These cans were less than a dollar each!", you laugh, reminiscing about your college days scraping together pennies just to fill your fridge.

"Hmm, perhaps you should have contemplated eating your teachers instead. The ones you didn't care for anyways."

He helped you mix and spread the tuna across the bread loaves, topping them with cheddar slices before popping them in the oven. Even when you weren't using your hands his touch lingered, as if he didn't want to let you go.

You pulled the melts out of the oven when you heard the cheese bubbling, the bread gave a satisfying crunch when you cut the sandwiches in half. Your first bite transported you back to culinary school, you could picture yourself scarfing your sandwich down before your next class began. A mixture of anxiety, determination, and exhaustion consumed you, an emotional cocktail that you were intimately familiar with during that time in your life.

"Hm! I suppose the cat food is edible", Alastor snarked from behind you as he ate his own sandwich. "It reminds me of a seafood dish we ate mixed with peas during The Great Depression, however, this is more elevated. I can imagine you struggling to get by financially and turning to this dish to satiate your hunger. I can finally taste you in this meal...good job Y/N."

You smiled at the long-awaited compliment, with another snap of his fingers your sight was restored. Sadly, that meant that Alastor stepped away from you and you lamented the loss of contact.

"Now, just two more senses to vanquish! Make sure to think of two more meals that hold a special place in your heart. Good work today my dear!", a surprised yelp ripped out your throat as his cane gently smacked your ass on his way to the door. Did he seriously just-?! But before you could confront him about it he was gone, leaving nothing but a manic chuckle behind.

The next evening you waited for the deer demon impatiently, your thumb tapping against the the opposite bicep. What was that yesterday? The memory of how close Alastor was to you played over and over in your mind. How the heat of his chest seeped into the flesh of your back, how his claws tingled as they traced down your arms. But mostly you thought of how his hands felt holding yours; how the muscles and tendons flexed as he moved you around...how the strength of them left little doubt about what others things he could make you do with so little resistance...

"My, my- someone's a bit jittery today!"

Alastor's voice made you jump, your mind scrambling to abandon the train of thought you were on.

"A-Alastor! Hi! Er-yes, just excited for our next lesson is all!", you laugh nervously. "Today I was thinking of making salmon and risotto bowls. It was what I cooked to win that scholarship to culinary school."

"Excellent choice My Dear! I must say I quite like your affinity for seafood. Now, lets begin", he snapped and your world, once again, fell dark.

"Uh Alastor? Weren't you supposed to take a different sense away? I worked blindly yesterday already!"

"Hmm yes you did, but you will find that I did take another sense away. As for your sight well...", he leaned in close, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear "...perhaps I just like you this way."

You exhale shakily, the air around you feeling thick, the tension weighing on your shoulders. You took a few deep breaths to calm your heart rate; as if sensing your distress, Alastor straightened up to put some distance between you but maintained the looming presence behind you as he took your hands and helped you through making your dish. You leaned in to smell the fish to check the seasoning when you realized you couldn't smell a thing. You were completely dependent on your hearing alone to cook. Your mind raced as you struggled to figure out a plan of action to continue.

Alastor leaned into you once again, whispering into your ear "Surrender completely, my dear listener, let the food sing you a melody. And trust me as your host of this experience, I promise I won't steer you wrong." He gently carded a claw through your hair, pulling a stand back behind your ear and leaving goosebumps along the flesh of your scalp and causing the little hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

You lean back against him, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest ground you as you match your breathing to his. As you concentrate on inhaling, the sounds of the kitchen begin to register. You could hear the risotto gently bubbling in the pan, the popping getting closer together as the liquid reduced- telling you it was time to add a bit more stock.

"Help me add more stock to the rice and test the heat of the pan", your voice was barely above a whisper. The demon behind you responded immediately, hands gently holding your wrists leading you through the motions. The water evaporated from the pan immediately, the sharp sizzle telling you it was time to add the oil and fish.

True to his word, Alastor kept hold of you through the whole process, as soon as you told him what you needed to do based on what you heard he immediately complied. You moved through the kitchen together locked in a strange dance; the food cooking, your small whispers, and his radio static the only sounds in the small space.

You choked on your first bite, your mind immediately going back to 18-year-old you. You remembered exactly how you felt when you were announced the winner of that scholarship, the day your entire life turned around...right before it all went up in flames. You weren't even aware of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you suddenly regained vision and Alastor was right in front of you. His hands tenderly held your face as he gently used his thumbs to wipe away your tears. He stared down at you intently but with a tenderness in his eyes you had never seen before. The next thing you knew you had your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as you sobbed into his coat. Years of trauma and repressed emotions finally letting loose, you sobbed until you had nothing else left in you. All the while Alastor just held you, never saying a word and never casting any judgement.

When your tears dried and your sobs completely quieted, The Radio Demon pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted your head back to look at him, "Our final lesson is tomorrow. Think of one more meal Mon Cher."

Your hands kept running through your hair, you almost felt sick with anxiety about today's lesson. When was the last time you cried? Probably when Grandma died, and even then you hid away in the bathroom, cleaning your face at the vanity before exiting so you could be the strong, older sister that your siblings needed. And then you just fell to pieces in front of Alastor, full-on ugly cried into The Radio Demon's coat! Your face flushed in embarrassment, you'd have to apologize to him.

Time kept ticking...he always arrived right on time, but today he was officially late. Great, your emotional outburst scared him off. Your hands fisted in your hair as you clenched your teeth to swallow the frustrated growl that threatened to rip out of your throat.

Just as you were about to run out of the kitchen (again) the Overlord finally walked through the door, he was practically running at the pace he moved at. He looked a bit disheveled himself, like he was in a hurry. He's probably in a hurry to get this over with and get away from you. You shook your head, you didn't want to entertain that thought. You opened your mouth to apologize for your breakdown but he beat you to it "What is the meal today?"

"Ummm...lamb chops with garlic smashed potatoes. It was Grandma's favorite, she normally paired it with Merlot. Look Al, I'm really sorry-", you were suddenly cut off when Alastor gripped your biceps, his hold was firm but not painful. His eyes held the same intensity they did the other day.

"Do you trust me?", his eyes bored into yours, reading every micro-expression your face made as you thought of the answer.

"With my life", you murmured softly, feeling the tears spring into your eyes again. His hand came up to cup your face once more.

"Good, please remember that I will never put you in harms way. Just...trust me", you heard his fingers snap and your world entered the now-familiar darkness. It was different this time though, you stood frozen for a few seconds before you realized what was off. Your hearing also left with your vision, this is how it felt to be Billie and Stew- deaf and blind.

Alastor? Your own voice did not register in your ears; there was no way to know if you had said his name out loud at all. The only thing your ears picked up was the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins. You heard your heart rate spike as panic started to creep into your mind. Alastor!

You felt the comforting pressure of hands on your shoulders, you were so used to these hands being on you now that you were sure you'd recognize his touch in a line-up at this point. He gently pushed you down to take a seat which confused you- weren't you supposed to be cooking?

Then you felt something touch your lips, you flinched back, causing liquid to spill down your chin from the whatever it was. Long, clawed fingers gripped your jaw to force you to stay still as the liquid met your lips once more. Red wine...Merlot, just like Grandma taught you to pair with red meat. Realization finally dawned on you, your sensory assignment today was taste...and you weren't cooking but being FED.

A claw gently dipped your bottom lip, a thumb brushing over your tongue to coat it in the spice mix for the lamb. You stopped breathing completely, your mind short-circuiting at the thought of Alastor sticking his thumb into your mouth. In an act of bravery you slowly slid your tongue over the digit letting out a hum of approval at the spices that coated your palate.

A glass was slowly transferred into your hand, the Merlot serving to keep your mind occupied as he cooked. You took the time to pick each component of the wine apart- cherry, chocolate, and plum notes. A hint of blackberry and tobacco in the aroma.

Even though you were temporarily blind and deaf, you sensed when he returned to you; it was as if his static aura seeped into your skin, alerting your body to his presence even when there was no way of noticing his approach. A hand cupped your jaw and pushed on your cheeks, gently prying your mouth open. The lamb was warm, definitely medium rare based on the texture, the musky taste of the lamb paired perfectly with the garlic, salt, and pepper seasonings it was coated in. The potatoes were crispy with a warm butter flavor, sour cream and cheese used to top them. The meal felt like home- familiar and warm; memories of cooking with Grandma flashed in your head. You felt the smile that split your face, your chest vibrated with laughter that you couldn't hear.

A hand gripped yours and pulled gently, you carefully stood up and let him lead you a short distance before pulling you down again...this time onto his lap. Your heart skipped a beat, you were sitting on The Radio Demon's lap...how? why?...what was happening?

You felt your eyes dance around frantically, trying to find him in the dark, asking for him to restore your sight so you could gauge his reactions and body language to try to make some sense of what he was thinking. Then you felt them, a barely-there brush of lips against yours but definitely lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. As quickly as they appeared they were gone; your hands traveled up along his jacket and shirt buttons before coming to a rest on his collarbones.

Suddenly, his fingers tangled into your hair and pulled your head back so that he could meet your lips more head-on. Alastor sealed this kiss with more force, holding your head so that you couldn't put any space between you two. You melted into him, parting your lips to give him access when you were caught by surprise; instead of his tongue entering your mouth a warm, full-bodied liquid tasting of cherry and chocolate poured from his mouth into yours- the Merlot. He had taken a sip of the wine and was pouring it directly into you. Your throat vibrated in a moan, his tongue quickly sweeping into your mouth once you swallowed the wine he fed you. Never had a wine tasted so good as when it came from Alastor's lips.

This dance continued a few more times, each kiss becoming more frantic and desperate with teeth gnashing together and tongues exploring every crevice of the other's mouth. You moved so you were straddling his hips, hands holding onto his lapels so he couldn't disappear on you.

The sensation of weightlessness whirled around you- his shadow magic you quickly realized. When you were grounded again your sight and hearing were restored but you didn't recognize your surroundings. You found yourself in a room of different red tones, with a large fireplace and armchairs in front of it and a desk off to the side. Beyond the typical room furnishings was a forest, the whole scene looked peculiar and distorted. How fitting for his room to resemble himself so much. You turned back to the demon whose room your inexplicably found yourself in...and he was looking back at you like you were the first meal he's seen in weeks.

Part 3 coming soon...there will be smut.

@voxslays

@ladyadrasteia666

@angeldustharmony

@milkissesx

[lelengerine]

but i love you, teaser.

pairing | jaemin x reader

synopsis | for someone who prefers keeping to yourself, just how did you end up in the position of vice president for your class? not to mention, your partner is the sparkling golden boy of the school, na jaemin.

genre | class officers au, a lot of the grumpy x sunshine trope, fluff, angst, mutual pining, reader uses she/her pronouns, jaemin uses a nickname for reader (angel), cursing, more to be added in the full release

wc | 0.5k for the teaser, est. 3k+ for the entire fic!

notes | i'm back and happy birthday to our dearest nana <3 i originally wanted to finish everything so i could post it for his birthday but i think it's better i don't rush the writing for this one,, hence the teaser :D likes and rbs are highly appreciated!

m.list → send in an ask or reply to be added to the taglist!

your breathing turns ragged and heavy as you try keeping up with jaemin’s own feet — your only passing thought wondering how the boy in front of you hasn’t faltered a bit from his brisk jog amidst the empty school hallways.

the two of you were tasked to submit the class attendance folder to the teachers lounge at 7 in the morning, a daily hinderance to someone who’d rather laze around in the classroom to get a couple more minutes of sleep before the first bell would ring, someone in the likes of you.

“na jaemin! god, slow the fuck down.” you finally huff, falling behind in your steps to catch your breath.

your classmate turns around on his heel at the call of his name, “maybe you’re simply too slow, angel.” he flashes an award-winning grin while tightly holding the important folder to submit, his actions doing nothing to ease your exhaustion.

“my bad, this angel doesn’t have two feet in the air to fly whenever she wants.” your reply is enveloped in sarcasm, chest heaving at a calmer pace than a few moments prior.

“you gotta live a little, run a bit more. maybe then, you’ll take off.” the quote-esque words have you grimacing at the thought, believing it to be a sense of false, cringe worthy hope provided by the boy.

“the only thing about to fly is my fist to your face, na.” you grumble, an arm ready to hit the boy with full force as soon as your mind gives confirmation to do so.

jaemin brings a hand over your curled-up fist, halting your swing before it even happens. “nuh, uh. you wouldn’t want to risk that on your stellar school record, would you?” he tuts with a knowing look on his face, “how ironic for an angel, indeed.”

“you’re the only one that calls me that anyways.” you retract your hand back down slowly after being flustered by the mention of your student record, still eyeing the boy in front of you — the bright expression on his face remaining in tact.

“it’s because i think it suits you.” he simply puts it, turning his back on you to continue walking towards the teachers lounge.

“and how exactly does that make sense?” you inquire, trailing him from behind, and the boy knows he’s garnered your attention for the second time today.

“why should i trouble myself and explain it further?” he returns the query back in your hands, still looking ahead of him. “do i get something in return?”

“that’s just childish, na. we’re seniors.” you remind him with the roll of your eyes, somewhat glad he couldn’t see you from his position.

“hey, i don’t do things for free.”

“you do class president tasks for free.” you quickly point out, the familiar door that leads the the teachers lounge finally coming into view at the end of the hallway.

“that’s rather inevitable, isn’t it? being in this position just means its part of my responsibilities.” he shrugs, slowing down his movement now that he sees the destination ahead.

“you’re just being boring.” you groan in protest, detesting how the boy is trying to be difficult with you.

he turns around once more, albeit much more abrupt than the first instance, making you almost bump into his back side. “then how’s this? i’ll tell you the reason during the upcoming school festival.”

“fine.” you reply, straightening your clothes out after that brief moment of getting frazzled. “you can’t take that back now, na.”

“wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

[spidercookie18]

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒆

The Lost Boys 1987 AU set in modern time. None of the boys died, and all the Emersons/Star/Laddie/Frog brothers are vampires. This is explained later…

Tags: Talks of manipulation, mentions of loss of family, death , hunting a p3do, mild gore, mild claustrophobia, mild nudity, smoking, scenting, marking, use of magic, use of y/n, afab, use of she/her, I aged the boys up because I personally don't like them as teens. Warnings: This chapter discusses toxic behavior, survivor mindset, death. Summary: Y/N tries to leave for work, and David's toxic behavior rears its ugly head. Word Count: 8.4k Previous chapter here: Next chapter here:

“No one should suffer what I suffered. I still dread those scenes when man killed man. I lost my parents, most of my family, by running away.” — Milkha Singh

Chapter Seven

Sunlight began trickling in through the cave. The gentle rays slowly rousing your sleeping form. You stirred, naked, spare for the blanket lain across your body. A dull ache throbbed in your lower half, and you smiled at the memories that played through your mind.

A soft buzzing on the ground let you know there was a message you needed to attend to. You tried to roll over off your back, to find your phone and see what the message was but were held down by something heavy around your waist. Scratch that, you weren’t naked, there was a vampire draped across your body.

David’s arm was across your stomach, and his leg across your thighs. You squirmed under his weight; you hadn’t noticed till now how his limbs pushed your body into the mattress. You looked down at his arm and leg strewn across your naked form, he was still fully clothed, you never understood why he refused to undress. 

But this fully clothed monster lover of yours had you trapped under him. You tried to pull your arm out from beneath his; he was heavier than you’d expected him to be. You curled your arms up to grab at his arm and tried to pull him off, no dice. The smell of the stale iron blood on his coat began wafting through your nose.

“David,” you spoke softly, trying to get him to wake up, but he continued to snore quietly. The itchy wool rubbing against your skin as you tried to move him. “David,” you patted his arm, like you were tapping out, “David?”

No response.

You wiggled your shoulder trying to push him off with your elbow, but you couldn’t get his arm to move. You shifted your hips side to side, trying to get unstuck from your suction cup mate. You were starting to panic, the feeling of being trapped settling in your bones.

“David. Get. Off,” you grumbled, flailing against the bed.

You huffed, “fuck!”

You’d managed to pull one arm free from him, and slowly forced his arm to slide down your body and off of you. “Christ, David, how much do you weigh?”

With both arms free now, you sat up and pushed his leg down your lower half. You panted, trying to calm down from your claustrophobic experience. Hot, and beginning to sweat, you rolled over, trying to get out of the bed.

“Mmmm, no.” David mumbled, throwing his arms around you, pulling you close and back against his chest.

“David,” you whined, “let gooooo.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbled into your back, not opening his eyes.

You growled in frustration. “David, too tight,” you complained.

“Tough,” his arms wrapped tighter around you, nuzzling his face against your skin, his beard scratching you gently.

You coughed, “I gotta breathe,” you wheezed out.

“Uugh,” David groaned, easing his hold on you, throwing his leg back around your hips, like you were his living body pillow.

You gasped at the crisp air being let into your lungs.

“Stop being dramatic,” David griped.

You were pressed flush against his chest; one of his arms under your armpit, the other over your ribs, and they met in the middle, closed around you. You made soft noises, like high pitched grunts and whines as you struggled against his hold.

“If you keep doing that, you’re gonna have to deal with it.” David mumbled behind you. You could feel his hand wander to your breast and grope it through the sheet.

You let out a squeak when you realized what he was talking about; the thing that was poking your ass.

He chuckled, “atta girl,” he sleepily peppered kisses along your shoulder and back. You could feel a soft rumble coming from him, like a gentle vibration through your body.

“Are you…” you tried to turn your head to look at him, “purring?”

“What of it?” He snapped, an agitation growing in his voice.

“Didn’t know y’all could do that,” you wiggled yourself closer to his chest, “I like it,” you hummed. You pressed a kiss to your fingers, then pressed the fingers to his hand.

He purred louder, and you smiled.

You could feel the purring in every inch of your body, all the way to your feet and back. After a short while, you felt the vibrations die down, becoming gentler and gentler with each passing minute.

You let him fall back asleep before you tried to get your phone again. You reached your hand over the edge of the bed, and waggled your fingers at the tote strap till you could pull it close enough to grab the bag. You rifled around in it till you reached your phone. You had a new notification. It was 4 in the afternoon, much too early for any of the boys to be awake.

** New Message: 8 Hours Ago**

“Ugh,” it was work. You swiped the screen up and unlocked the phone to read your message. You sighed and tapped on the screen to respond. David felt you moving around again, and he pushed the phone out of your hand.

“David,” you scoffed, annoyed at him, “knock it off.”

“You knock it off,” he grumbled, “go back to sleep.” He pushed your phone into the mattress and away from you.

You jutted your shoulder back to push him off and grabbed your phone to finish typing your message. “It’s work, give me a sec.”

“No.” He batted the phone with his hand, “sleep,” he fussed.

“David, seriously,” you adjusted your hold on the phone, your tone sterner now.

He groaned and you continued to tap on the screen, quickly reading the details and sending out a few messages to confirm order and pick up.

You tapped on the photo and snorted. “Just great,”

“Hmm?” David hummed against your back.

“Someone wants a damn werewolf.”

“The whole thing?”

“Yeah, guess it’s some guy on city council.” You angled the phone over your shoulder to show David the picture, “you know him?”

David opened his eyes and grabbed the phone to inspect the picture, his arm leaving from around your waist. “Nah,” he continued to look at the photo, “wait, actually yeah.” He pulled his other arm out from under you. David laid on his back looking at the photo. “Guy likes to hang around playgrounds, if you know what I mean.” He looked at you, giving a look of disgust.

“Me and the boys have had our eye on him for a while, but he’s always got an entourage with him. Fucker got a whiff of us once a while back and we haven’t been able to get close to him since.”

“Gross,” you said, motioning with your hand that you wanted the phone back from him, “but that does kinda help me.” 

“Hold on,” David started tapping on your phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting my number in your phone.” You watched as he took a picture of the both of you. Your messy hair, smudged makeup, and sleepy look against his chest as he smiled.

“Hey that’s a bad picture,” you spoke, protesting how you looked.

“S’fine,” he continued to tap on the screen. When he was satisfied, David let you take it and you looked at what he saved his contact name as.

“Seriously?” You chuckled. The contact name was saved under ‘D’ with a series of hearts and a vampire emoji. “Oh, I’m gotta change that,” you started tapping on the screen.

“What are you gonna save it as?” David smiled, kissing into your shoulder.

“Captain fuck face,” you giggled out.

David tried to snatch the phone from you, “hey, stop that!”

“Noooooo,” you squealed as he started grabbing at you.

He sat up and tried to pull the phone from your hands. “Change it back,” he sat on top of your waist and reached for your arms that you held above your head.

You tried to keep tapping at the screen while evading his grasp. He finally managed to get a hold of your wrist and pinned both of your hands above your head.

You smiled up at him and let the phone fall to your bag on the floor.

You panted; David stared down at you with a look of hunger, and you tried to make an innocent face to avoid punishment.

“You are gonna get it,” David growled. He shoved his face to your neck, nipping and biting against your skin.

You squealed and hollered at the feeling. You squirmed under him while his beard and teeth tickled you.

“Ahh stop! Stop!” You yelped, pulling on your arms; trying to get free, but David easily held your wrists with one hand. His other coming up under the blanket to scratch at your chest and stomach.

“David!” You squealed, giggling under the assault of his mouth.

“Say you’re sorry,” he barked into your skin. You continued to giggle. “Say it,” he was teasing of course, but still enjoyed the sight of you.

“I’m s-so- aahh!”

“Will you guys shut the fuck up!”

“It’s too early for this!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

The other boys yelled from the roost.

David snapped his head in the direction of the boys, “ahh shut up, you’re just jealous!”

“Booooo, boo David,” one of them yelled, and they all started booing.

You chuckled at them all, and David turned back to you, “fuckin’ fuckers.”

“I was only kidding,” you giggled.

David came down to peck your cheek with a kiss, “I know darlin’.”

He let go of your wrists and rolled off you. He laid on his back and kicked his arms and legs out. He yawned as he stretched, his arms and feet wiggling, smacking his lips as he let his limbs rest on the bed. David looked over to you while you sat up in the bed, rubbing the bite marks along your chest.

You let your fingertips trail over the purple marks. You felt David watching you, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Dunno where my phone is,” David laid on his side, watching you. “Guess I’ll have to make more when I find it.”

You rolled your eyes, “smooth.”

“Thanks,”

“I meant your brain,” you chuckled.

He huffed, “you’re gonna make me weep.”

You ignored him and began to look for the clothes you’d packed in your bag. Lord knows what David and Marko had done with your panties. You pulled a new pair from the tote and began to slip them up your legs.

“Well, I guess I aught ta head home soon,” you yawned, looking back at your lover.

“You’re seriously going after him?” David asked.

You reached for a shirt from your bag, a clean one, not the bloodied mess of a shirt you’d need to seriously disinfect. “I mean, not right now…” you replied, sarcastically. You looked for the shorts you had on last night.

“No,” David said simply.

“No?” You stared at David, holding the shorts in your hand, dumbfounded by his ‘matter of fact’ attitude.

“He’s too big for you to take down by yourself.”

You began to put the shorts on, “you just told me he knows you guys were after him. He obviously knows your guys’ scent.”

“I’m not letting you do it alone,” David stared at you, distressed, “we do things as a pack.”

You sighed, “It’s fine, it’ll only take a few days to-”

“A few days??” David stood from the bed, staring at you in disbelief. “You’re not doing it, end of discussion!”

You stared at him from where you stood by the other end of the bed; shock, and anger coursing through your veins. “I’m not asking for your permission, David.”

You both stared at each other; unyielding to the other.

The tension in the air was rising. You could feel your fists clench on reaction, and you watched as David clenched and unclenched his jaw.

You slowly walked to him. You tried to put your hand on his cheek to get him to look at you, but when you reached for him, he turned away. You sighed and sat on the bed; dejected. Unsure what to say, you sat quietly, while the minutes passed by.

“I’ll only be gone about four nights,” you whispered.

You weren’t going to let him talk you out of it, but pushing the matter would drive a wedge between you two. After being alone for so long, you almost forgot that you needed people. Even if David and the boys weren’t ‘people’, you knew in your heart that you needed them. You couldn’t bear to lose another family.

“Why so long?” David spoke, half turning to look at you.

“I’ve got to get y’all’s smell off me,” you joked, taking a handful of your hair and pressing it to your nose. “Whoo,” you took your hair away and sneezed, “you guys have been scenting me after all.”

David turned to look at you, his hands coming to your shoulders. His eyes shifted over your features, a nervous look across his face. “I…” he didn’t know what to say. He hated the thought of you being away. What if you needed them, what if they needed you?

You stared up at him, not wanting to make him feel like you were running away. You moved one of his hands to your cheek, and held your hand over his. “I can handle it,” you sounded sure of yourself. “Do you trust me?”

His eyes locked onto yours. Everything in him saying not to let you go, his instincts screaming against his mind.

“David?” Your soft doe eyes cutting through his thought. Of course, he wanted to trust you, but where had that gotten him. He wasn’t about to let another one of his mates run off where he couldn’t protect them.

“You can’t,” his words were like daggers in your heart. “I can’t let you do it,” his blue eyes holding your gaze. It was like you were about to fall into them, you could barely focus.

“D-da-,” you could feel him trying to sway your mind. If he couldn’t persuade you, he’d resort to his old tricks. The worst side of him always came out when he was frightened.

You felt the well of tears start to fill your eyes. His thrall more powerful than what he’d tried on you before; he had much more magic than you’d ever anticipated.

David watched the tears in your eyes overflow and spill down your cheeks. The ache in his undead heart growing. He knew this was wrong; he understood it, even through his fear.

After a second, you felt the fog in your mind dissipate. As soon as David released his thrall on you, you pulled from his grasp. You pushed your arms to the mattress and scooted back and away from him.

David tried to move, to reach out to you.

“Don’t,” you put your hand out. “Just, don’t.” You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Y/N, I-“

“Just save it David,” you snapped at him. You hid your face in your legs in an attempt to hide your tears. Your voice came out muffled, “I don’t want to hear it.”

There was a pang in your chest. A sharp, stabbing pain, like your heart was breaking. You tried to will the anguish away, but it was no use. The tears easily flooded your vision. You felt so small in that moment, and you sobbed, quietly.

The sound of David’s clothes shifting let you know he was moving around. You could hear him standing next to you now. You felt his hand rest on your shoulder, and you pulled away on response. He let out a sigh, and you heard him begin to walk off.

You stayed in the bed, still clutching your legs, you watched as he walked off towards his alcove. He stood in his mess of memories he’d saved; he was looking for something, but you didn’t care about that. The only thing you could think or feel in that moment was the hurt in your chest, the anger that began to course through your veins.

How could you trust him so easily when he was just the same? The same as what you ran away from.

He’s just like what we promised we’d never let ourselves live through again.

No, he isn’t, he was kind, he’d shown us that. Until now, he’d never given us a reason not to trust him.

Now? Now we’d known him not even a month, and he already tried to lock us away.

But he didn’t. He stopped; he knew it was wrong! It was just a lapse in judgeme-

A lapse in judgement? Look what that got us last time!

You were at odds with yourself. The fear of your old life seeping through your own thoughts. You clutched your legs harder.

You heard the soft sounds of someone walking towards the bed.

“Here,” David sat down on the bed next to you. You looked up from over your knees, still half hiding your face. He was holding out the photo album to you.

“I’ve already seen that,” you grumbled, hiding your face back into your legs.

He exhaled and scooted a bit closer to you on the bed. “Yeah, I know you went snooping through my stuff,” he joked. “But you never asked me the story behind them,” he opened the picture album. The sticky plastic pages making a noise, like soft Velcro, as he flipped through them.

You looked up, still holding your legs close to your chest.

He picked up a dingey paper that was placed within a plastic holder. The paper was small, maybe four inches by two. The plastic card holder wasn’t much bigger. The clear plastic that covered the paper was a dirty, brownish yellow. He held it out for you to take it. You sheepishly put it in your hands, and you read what you could. You could barely make out his first name, and a year that read, ‘1860-something?’

“What is this?” You brought the paper closer to your face, trying to make out more of what it said.

“It’s my death certificate.”

You looked up at him. His tone so casual and lighthearted for what the paper was.

He chuckled, “yeah,” he leaned in to look at it too. He looked, almost reminiscent, maybe of his past life. His gaze softening as he looked at the paper, you let him take it from you. He gently thumbed over the dirty yellow plastic. He spoke, and his snickering got louder as he did, “y’know what they ruled for cause of death?”

You silently shook your head.

David was laughing now, “they said, they said it was ‘complications from gangrene.’” He waved his hand in front of his face “Course you’re gonna get gangrene when the fucking doctor is using the same tools on everyone. And,” he was laughing again, “and you know what the complications were?”

You stared at him, not moving. Waiting to see how this would play out.

“The complications, pfft, were from the doctors, ha-ha, cutting my fucking stomach open to pull out those goddamned .44’s!” He stayed laughing to himself. You were sure he was doing this to try and hide his real emotions.

You could see through it; he was angry, he was hurt.

“God damned friendly fire mother fuckers,” he gritted his teeth. You watched as his fist gripped at the sheet below him. “All because I was kind to someone from a different race,” he snorted. He chuckled, then exhaled, long and shaky, like he was picturing their faces in his mind.

You let your legs go and reached a hand out to David’s arm. He slowly regained his train of thought, and his ragged breathing slowed.

“I was, uh,” he paused; his eyes shifted nervously between you and the certificate in his hands. “I was 21 when I died,” he sighed out. “21 fucking years old. And all I have to show for it is this paper.” He gripped the plastic between his fingers. “This… this was all they sent home. There was no funeral, no headstone, no one cried when I died.” He stared off towards the ground, then back at you. “Not a single person cared that I was dead.”

He got silent for a moment, then placed the paper back in the book and began flipping through the pages again, “course, nobody got headstones in those days. Hell, if Max hadn’t found me when he did, I’da probably just been kicked into some ditch with the rest of-” he stilled. His mind flooded with the twisted and contorted faces of the dead soldiers he came to call his brothers.

“The worst part, is not dying.” He continued to flip through the pages of the book, his tone solemn, not looking at you. “Yeah, the pain isn’t great. It was fucking horrible. The waiting to die wasn’t fun either,” he tittered. “But, the worst part is not being able to protect those you care about.”

He reached his finger behind a picture, a bland image of a tree. He pulled out a folded hand drawn image from behind a polaroid. He unfolded the drawing, the paper was a deep orange, and the image was a smudged pencil, or maybe charcoal. It was a drawing of a young man and a woman. They held each other, the features were a bit smudged, but they appeared to be smiling.

David turned the paper for you to see, not willing to let it go. “This is my mom and dad,” his thumb slightly rubbed the edge of the old paper.

You stared at the couple, “they look so in love,” you smiled as you spoke.

“They were,” David started. “She always talked about how kind he was, how she wanted me to be like that. Brave, and smart, and kind.” He angled the paper a bit more for you to see, “but he died before I met him.”

His finger traced the outline of his mother’s face, “when she got sick, I tried to take care of her… but I was just a boy.” A smile grew on his face, remembering her, “she used to make the best pigeon pie,” he chuckled, “but, er, don’t tell Marko.” He looked back at you, “he says his birds are meant ‘to be loved, not to be eaten’,” David rolled his eyes. 

You snorted and relaxed your legs a bit.

“She taught me to sew, cook, forage, how to clean a fish, heh, she even taught me how to waltz.”

“Oh yeah?” You relaxed a bit more.

“Mhm,” you could hear the happiness in his voice. “She said she wanted me to be ‘a gentleman’, think I kinda missed the mark on that one,” David sighed.

“You’ve got her smile,” you tried to ease his mind.

David chuckled, he let his lip curl up to reveal his fang and licked his forked tongue across the sharp tooth, “eh, not anymore I don’t.”

You and David stared at the picture quietly. He spoke in a whisper, “she’d be real ashamed of the man I’ve become.” He pulled the plastic behind the polaroid and slipped the drawing back behind it.

David continued to flip through the book and found an image of him and the boys.

They were all wearing cuffed, pressed jeans. White t-shirts, and a flannel or their jackets; the collars were all ‘popped’ up. Their hair was slicked back; spare for Marko, whose curls were clearly defined in the old picture. Marko and Paul stood next to each other, their hands in their jacket pockets. Dwayne stood between David and Paul, his thumbs in his pant pockets, and David stood off on the right. His hands were clasped in front of his hips, they were all smoking cigarettes.

“This is the first picture we all took together.” David pulled the picture out of the album and handed it to you. “We’d been taking pictures of each other all night, but Max said we needed one of all of us.”

You took the photo in your hand.

“Nobody liked Max at that point; he’d been a real buzzkill all week. Getting on everybody’s nerve, trying to tell us what to do, saying we were being too ‘obnoxious.” David grunted, “course, I had to wrangle everyone up for the damn picture… but Dwayne has never listened to him,” he laughed. “So, I had to get everyone together.”

You brought the picture closer to your face to see the detail better. Marko already had a few patches on his jacket, David had his medal and the buttons, but the coat was different. Paul had a safety pin on his flannel, and Dwayne had his key necklace. He and Paul didn’t have their matching eye rings yet.

David leaned in to look at the picture too, he pointed at himself in the image. “That’s me,”

You leaned away a bit, “yeah, I got that.”

He pointed to Dwayne, “Dwayne lost his wife and kids in the red scare.”

You looked at David, surprised by his candid remarks.

“He was…I think 24 when we found him.” He moved his finger to Paul. “Paul’s sister drowned; he was 23 when he met us.” He pointed to Marko, “Marko lost his family to a house fire.” He looked at them all in the picture with a heavy heart, “he was 22 when I found him.”

You kept your gaze on David, unsure how to react. “So,” you started, “you’re not the oldest,” you joked.

David snorted, “not in human years, but that doesn’t matter now, eh?” He turned his head to you, his eyes full of guilt, “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You scoffed and handed him back the picture. You scooted away from him a bit.

He turned his body, and reached out to you, “I am, I’m sorry. I-“

“I don’t forgive you,” you said angrily.

“You don’t have to; I just need you to know that I’m sorry.” His hands fumbled with the paper, he set it down on the album and moved it to the side. “I just…” his hands turned up, silently asking for your hands.

You hesitated, not entirely wanting to give him your hands. You stared at him, slowly putting your hands in his open ones.

He eagerly took them, and gently squeezed your palms.

“I needed you to see this stuff, I’m not like this just because, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. I don’t want you getting hurt.” His eyes searched over your features, hoping he’d gotten through to you.

You turned your face so you wouldn’t have to look at him. Your eyes fell on the photo album, the full pages making your mind wander to all the things David showed you.

“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. Please,” David leaned close to your face now, and you tried to keep from looking at him. “I’m sorry, I just- if you need help, you know you can call us, right?”

You looked back at him. You saw his eyes flicker across your face, you saw his nostrils flare, and his face pinch with anxiety.

“You know that, right?”

You gave in, “I know that,” your voice sounded tired.

He pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You were still angry with him, still hurt. You could feel him purring again, it was soft, but you could feel it. Maybe if he was willing to change, you were willing to be patient.

David nuzzled his face against yours, and into the crook of your neck.

“I don’t want you to feel unsafe with me, with any of us.” His beard scratching at your skin as he continued to nuzzle you, “please, I’m sorry.”

You could feel him starting to nip at your flesh,

His nipping and pawing at you started to tickle, “okay, okay, just stop,” you gasped out.

You thrust your hands to his shoulders and pushed him away. “Calm down already,” you were giggling.

He brought your arm to his mouth and kept biting at your skin.

“Daaavid,” you heard one of the boys call from the roost.

You were trying to pull your arm from David’s grasp, while he ignored the other vampire calling to him.

You looked behind David; Marko was the first to wake, probably because he was such a light sleeper. He stood in the entrance to the roost, his hair disheveled from his sleep.

Marko walked around barefoot, switching between scratching his hair and his crotch. “David,” he called to his brother, “you gonna let er’ go do her thing?”

David ignored the curly haired blond, the banter he was trying to start wasn’t of importance to him at this moment.

“You could hear us?” You asked Marko, leaning back and away from David.

“Course we could. With David being a weenie about the whole thing.”

David kept kissing and nipping at your wrist, with his free hand, he flipped off Marko.

“Right back atcha buddy,” Marko chuckled and flipped off David as he walked off somewhere.

“We’ve been trying to tell ya,” Marko called out, undoing his pants and walking over to a deep hole off on the far side of the cave. “Max has been bitching about you falling behind on chores!” His voice echoed off the walls softly and you could hear him urinating, and sighing.

You pulled on your arm, and David finally released with a groan. “That lazy fucker never wants to do his own ‘dirty work’,” David grumbled. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he walked over to the couch, waiting for the others to wake up. He kicked his legs out on one of the cushions, wiggling his toes through his torn socks.

You tried to ignore the sound of Marko urinating and looked for your socks and shoes. The sound of him groaning and mumbling to himself was audible as it echoed through the cave. You gathered the rest of your things and sat on the edge of the fountain.

David smiled at you, and watched you slip your socks on.

You sat on the fountain, slipping your shoes on, “really? Y’all in your 20’s?”

“Mhm, people think we’re younger a lot,” David toyed with one of the buttons on his coat. “It’s cause we’re so hot,” he teased, pretending to brush some 'long' hair out of his face.

You scoffed, “sure.”

You watched as one of the other boys came from the dark part of the cave. It was Dwayne, he was rubbing his eyes, and you could see his long dark hair flow as he walked, the wind catching it lightly.

Marko started walking back to where the couch was, you could still hear him scratching himself through the denim of his jeans. “Hey, come on man, put your dick away,” he griped at Dwayne, and you looked back to the brunet that’d come out of the roost.

He was fully naked. Standing proud and tall as he stretched his hands above his head.

You could feel a flush come to your face. You blushed, hard, trying to avert your gaze.

Now you knew why he walked like that.

David laughed at your reaction, watching you stare at the floor.

“David, tell the horse to go back to the stables,” Marko complained.

Dwayne finished his stretch and languidly flipped off Marko, still yawning with his other hand to his face. Through the corner of your eye, you watched his smile, the large, sharp teeth in his mouth catching your curiosity.

“Let him be, Marko,” David snorted. He patted his lap for you to go join him on the couch, and you obliged.

You sat atop David’s lap with your back leaning against the couch, he was sat up against the arm and you both watched as Dwayne went to go collect his pants from Paul’s alcove.

“Why did no one wake me up?” Marko asked David and Dwayne, alluding to the fact that there continued to be, ‘bonding’ after he went to sleep.

“Cause we were busy,” David laughed out, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and vibrating through your side.  “Right darlin?” David jostled you in his lap.

“You guys coulda at least told me, or something…assholes,” Marko continued to grumble. He walked over to the couch and sat on the last cushion, pushing David’s feet away.

“Now who is being a weenie?” David snorted.

“Ah ha you’re so fucking funny,” Marko sassed. He leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek, “mornin’, bella.”

You were still blushing when Marko kissed your cheek, and he knew it was because you weren’t used to seeing such a display as the one before you. This cocky vampire, parading himself through the halls of the cave, stark naked aside from his necklace.

“You better be getting dressed over there!” Marko chuckled; he’d cupped a hand to his face to amplify his voice.

You looked over to Paul’s alcove and could see a hand shoot up over the pile of crap Paul kept, to flip Marko off. You could hear Dwayne slip his legs through the jeans, he walked over with the button and zipper undone.

His bare feet gently rapping against the floor as he walked back to where you all were sitting. With himself put away, you sheepishly looked up to the brunet. The denim jeans were hanging off his hips, you weren’t entirely sure how they were staying up so well. His treasure trail was thick, and you had to pull your eyes away from where his downed zipper ended.

Your eyes tracked up his abdomen, and David bounced you in his lap, poking fun of your curious eyes. Dwayne’s fingers were in his hair, brushing the mane out of his face. “You okay?” Dwayne asked looking down at you, with genuine concern. The years of unashamed behavior making him forget that this wasn’t normal behavior for when someone had ‘guests’.

“She’s fine,” David smiled, bouncing you in his lap again

“She’s not used to watchin’ your big ole’ dick swing around like that,” Marko interjected.

Dwayne had about enough of Marko poking at him, “oh, I’ll swing this dick, keep talking like that.” He pointed his finger in Marko’s face.

The blush coming back to your cheeks. David heard you squeak and it made him laugh.

“Alright that’s enough you guys, you’re scarin’ her,” David spoke up.

Marko flipped Dwayne off and reached over the side of the couch to grab a beer. He popped the tab and it hissed. Dwayne stuck his tongue out at Marko and put his hands out to ask for a can. Marko tossed him one and Dwayne popped the tab and took a sip.

David had his hands around your waist, and he let his hands wander to the waist band of your shorts.

“Not on your life, mister,” you snapped at him.

“Yeah, I know,” David spoke, dejected, “you’re still mad.”

“Damn right I’m mad,” you pouted at him.

He placed a kiss on your arm, “that’s fine. Oh, don’t forget to send me that picture.”

“You’re pretty cute when you’re mad,” Marko spoke up.

David bounced you in his lap a bit and you rolled your eyes at them.

“Marko’s right though, David,” Dwayne spoke. He wiped a drop of beer off his lip with his thumb, David and Marko looked at him. “Max has been asking for you a lot, he said if you didn’t stop by soon, he’d have to come looking for you.”

David groaned, picking you up off his lap and standing you up. “Fucking guy,” he turned in the couch and his feet landed on the ground. “Can’t ever have anything nice.” David patted your ass and you jumped, he stood and looked back to the roost. “Where’s Paulie?”

“He was pretty ticked off with you guy’s waking him up earlier, so he’s probably still asleep,” Marko said, bringing the can to his lips, slurping the liquid.

“Paul!” David yelled in the direction of the roost.

No response.

David walked over to the entrance of the roost and hollered again, “PAUL!”

No response.

David sighed, shaking his head. He looked over to the boys and turned back to the roost. Marko covered his ears and Dwayne covered yours. The last thing you heard before you felt Dwaynes large hands clasp the sides of your head, was the beer cans hitting the floor. You all watched David open his mouth to take a deep inhale.

“PAAAAAAUUUUULLL!”

“WHAT?! FUCK! WHAT!!”

“Paul, come say goodbye!”

“GOODBYE! FUCK!” Paul was screeching from the roost.

Dwayne removed his hands from the side of your head, and you turned to look at him. He was wincing with pain as he rubbed his ears, and Marko stuck his fingers in his ears to shake them out.

You rubbed your ears too, even with Dwayne covering them for you, it was painful to hear David scream like that. You felt it through your bones, you thought the sound had shaken the cave. You could still hear a ringing in your ears.

The boys had discarded their beer cans when they rushed to protect themselves from David’s scream; and now, the yeasty brown liquid gushed on the floor as the can’s laid on their sides.

“Gah!” Marko griped, still wiggling his finger in his ear, “I hate when he does that!” You could hear him hissing, or maybe that was from the scream.

“Don’t make me yell again, Paul.” David stood, with his hands on his hips.

“FINE!” You heard Paul land with a thud. “FUCK!”

“Dumb idiot forgot to turn again,” Dwayne chuckled, still rubbing his ears.

You heard Paul grumble as he walked up out of the roost. His feet scraping along the ground as he forced himself to come out where the others are. You watched as his wild blond hair turned the corner. His pants were half on, and he didn’t have his shirt or jacket, “What the hell do you want,” he hissed at David.

David gestured to where you stood, “Y/N is gonna be out of the cave for a few days.”

The other boys looked at you, surprised you were leaving. “I wanted to give ya a chance to say bye before she left.”

With that, Paul ran over to you and scooped you up by the waist. He held you easily a foot off the ground and shook you around in his hug. “Aww nooooo, whyyyyy?” His groggy, whiney voice piercing your already sensitive ears.

“Fuck, Paul chill out,” Marko continued to wiggle out his ear.

“P-Paul,” you choked out, your arms pushing against his shoulders, trying to break free. “I’ll be back in a f-few days!”

Paul stopped swishing you about and held you against him, still half in the air. He smooshed his face into your breasts and let out another whine, “but I didn’t even get to play with yoouuu-“

“Paul, let her go man,” Dwayne walked behind you and tried pry Paul’s hands off from around your waist. “Dude, put her down,” he grunted, trying to pull him off you.

“Nooooo,” Paul wailed.

Dwayne finally managed to get one of Paul’s fingers back and pull the rest of his hand and arm away from you. With his free arm, Dwayne wrapped himself around your waist and pulled you away from Paul. He set you down gently to his side and kept Paul away with the other.

“Knock it off dude, she already said she’s coming back.” Marko called to him from the couch.

Dwayne turned you to him. He cupped your face in his hands and thumbed over your cheeks. “Can’t wait for ya to get back, short stuff,” he placed a kiss on your nose, and you could feel the blush come back to your face.

You stuttered out a chuckle and Marko stepped you back from the brunet. “Real smooth, Casanova,” he poked at Dwayne.

“You’re gonna get it,” Dwayne eyed Marko as he walked back to the roost to find his jacket.

Marko rolled his eyes at the brunet, of course he knew what he was doing when he antagonized him. He turned his attention back to you; he pressed his forehead to yours and clasped his hand around the back of your head. His free hand cupping your cheek. “See you soon, bella,” he rubbed his nose against yours. You could feel him inhaling you; he softly kissed your lips, and slowly pulled from the embrace.

Marko took Paul by the hand and led him back to the roost, “come on you, let’s get you washed up.” Paul still sniffled as he turned to look at you one more time and waved goodbye.

You looked at David, who was watching the others walk off down the tunnel.

“Talk about a bunch of ‘weenies’,” he chuckled.

“Geez, the way they were acting, you’d think I was never coming back,” you rubbed your arm sheepishly.

David looked at you, “you are coming back, right?”

“Well…yeah?” You stood, studying his reaction. “Yes, for the hundredth time, I’m coming back,” you walked a bit to him, “I forgive you, ya big baby.” He closed the distance between you two. His hands slowly coming up around your waist. “Besides,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you’d hunt me down if I didn’t.”

He laughed heartily into your skin. “No, I wouldn’t,” he chuckled out.

You cocked your head, as if to question his statement.

“Okay, yeah, I would.” he pressed his nose to your cheek. You could hear him purring softly, as he pressed a quick kiss to it.

“Or at least Paul would,” you tittered, “is he…going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” David pulled from you to go find his key, “just gotta give him some lovin’ when you get back. He’s a bit sensitive.” He waived his hand nonchalantly in the air.

You could hear some screaming coming from where the others walked off to.

“No! I don’t want to take a bath!”

You looked at David, a confused look on your face, “um?”

“NO! STOP! Y/N HELLLPPP!”

“PAUL, YOU NEED A BATH!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO-”

David quickly produced his keys and grabbed your hand to lead you away from the screaming, “that’s our cue.” He swiftly turned you around and walked you out of the cave; you heard a series of yelps and yowls as you left.

David pulled up outside of your house on the driveway. He didn’t turn to look at you, he just sat on the idling bike, his head hanging low.

You moved your hand from around his midsection and placed it on his shoulder. “Hey,” you softly spoke, and he half turned to look at you. “It’s okay,” you wrap your arms back around him in a sympathetic hug.

He snorts and turns the bike off. David stood and got off the bike. He put his hand out to help you off, and you gently squeezed it as you stood. Your foot got caught on the seat as you tried to get off and you stumbled into David’s arms.

“Heh, if you wanted me to hold, ya, you coulda just asked,” David smiled down at you.

You scoffed and straightened your clothes. David began to walk you up the porch steps and you followed suit. When you got in front of the door, he turned to you. Something weighed heavy on his mind, though he tried not to show it.

“You really gonna make me stay away for four nights?” He held your hand in his.

You could feel his grip tightening as he waited for your answer. His eyes darting across your features, the look on his face making your heart ache.

You placed your free hand atop his and gently rubbed it with your thumb. “We both have things we need to do,” you reminded him, and his grip tightened more.

He grumbled and looked away from you, “I’m gonna come looking for you, the second the sun goes down.”

You chuckled, “I’d expect nothing less from a ‘big scary vampire’.”

He pulled you closer to him and growled against your neck, “you’re mine.” He nipped at the skin, “don’t you forget it.”

“Like you’d let me,” you laughed out.

“Damn straight,” he held you against him. David inhaled your scent, trying to hold onto you for as long as he could.

You both reluctantly pulled away from each other, and he waited on the porch as you opened the doors to go inside. He half expected you to still invite him in, and stifled his grief when you didn’t.

He stood on the porch, in the darkness, as he watched the lights inside turned off.

Once again, that annoying feeling was gnawing at the back of his head. He gritted his teeth, trying to will it away. No luck. David stomped back to his bike. He knew if he stood there any longer, he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away. He headed back home; it was killing him, but he couldn’t stay there.

The roar of the bike sounded as he started it. He pushed his feelings down and focused on getting home.

The bike rolled to a stop. He kicked the stand out and sighed as he got off. David knew he should get your scent off too, that way Max couldn’t yell at him. He stood on the edge of the cliff, watching the tide roll in.

David pulled out a cigarette from his coat and lit it. He brought the collar of the jacket to his nose and inhaled your scent. He hated that he was going to have to get your smell off him and his clothes. He cursed Max under his breath. He stared at the waning moon for a moment, wondering how things could be, if they had been different.

Did you love him for who he was? Could you love him and all his flaws? All the hate and anger that bubbled under the surface; the monster he believed himself to be?

He took a long drag of the cigarette, loathing the thought of how he never lived up to his mother’s expectations. How he longed to be kind, to be brave, to be the gentleman she always wanted him to be. He scorned himself for these thoughts.

“Fuck this,” he scoffed. He looked down at the water as it lapped up the edges of the lighthouse and turned to go home.

David walked down into the cave, feint whines and grumbles echoed off the walls as he stomped down the ‘stairs’. He stood at the base of the entrance watching his brothers hold down and dry off Paul.

Paul, was sat on the floor, in a towel, with Marko standing behind him, brushing and drying his hair out. Paul had his hands wrapped around his front in a pout.

He hated baths, and more, he hated not getting to dry off the way he wanted.

“Ya have to chase him down again?” David asked, sarcastically, because he already knew.

“What do you think?” Dwayne replied. He was sat in front of Paul and Marko, with a belt in his hand, waiting for Paul to try and take off.

Paul didn’t particularly care about being clean or dirty, but he hated getting his hair wet. He said it made him feel like a ‘wet rat’ and avoided it whenever he could.

Marko ran a brush through his hair, and with his magic he turned on a hair dryer. It was a peculiar sight; a normal hairdryer, except it had no cord, no outlet, no electricity, and it still turned on.

Paul happily wiggled around on the ground, chirping. He tilted his head back and shook his hair out in the warm air. He liked this part at least, and Dwayne stood to stretch.

“Hold still!” Marko grabbed Paul by the top of his head and straightened his sight. “Stay!” He scolded his brother, and Paul pouted, still wiggling with the feeling of the warm air.

Marko gently brushed Paul’s hair, and he hummed to him trying to keep Paul still. David walked over to his alcove, looking at all his things. He nudged a box with his foot and sat in the cot in the middle. He looked at all the things around the space and sighed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

Fuck, it’s only 8? David thought, he hoped it was much later in the night.

He saw a message from an unsaved number. He figured it was you. He saved the number and pointed the camera at the boys. He snaped a picture and sent it to ‘Babydoll <3’.

He looked over at his brothers, who were still bickering about Paul and his ‘grooming habits’.

New Message: Now

He opened it,

‘omg, is he okay?’

David started tapping at the screen. ‘Yeah, he’ll survive.  He just hates baths.’

He stared at the phone, waiting for your reply. After a minute his phone vibrated.

New Message: Now

‘Well good luck with them, lol.’

One Attachment:

David looked at the photo you’d sent him. It was the one he took on your phone earlier. He gently traced the outline of your lips and face with his finger, he stared at the image, and smiled.

‘I almost forgot to send it.

See you soon. <3’

David stared at the messages and the picture. His smile slowly faded, he grunted. What was he going to do these next few days while he waited…That nagging feeling was back.

He stood up, dropping his phone on the cot and took off his boots. He emptied his pockets and took off his coats. Barefooted, he walked towards the mouth of the cave.

David was going to walk around in the sea for a while till his mind cleared.

[seriowan]

I'm fully in Dad!Wrecker brain rot. I could totally see him playing the protector role well. Defending his little ones from the monster under the bed.

dad!wrecker has such a special place in my heart. just imagining such big hunky man being so incredibly soft with his little babies 🥺 ugh it's enough to send me into a baby fever meltdown — ( @drafthorsemath )

more dad!wrecker below the cut!

"daddy?"

wrecker snorted as he woke, eyes popping open only to flicker to his adi'ka. they stood by the couch with their blanket held up to their chin, glossy eyes gazing down at him. sitting up, wrecker gave a big yawn and stretch, partially disoriented from unintentionally falling asleep mid-holo film.

after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he noticed the look of discomfort on his little one's face and frowned.

"hey, tooka," he cooed softly, gently cupping the side of adi'ka's face. "you okay? you don't look too good."

they glanced around the living room, eyeing the dark hallway. with a little shiver, they walked in between wrecker's legs and dropped their forehead against his chest, cowering. wrecker gently palmed their hair, kissing the top of their head.

when they spoke, their voice was soft and raspy — a sign that they had been crying.

"i had a nightmare." they glanced up, big eyes full of glossy tears that slowly began to slip down their cheeks. "it was really scary. a monster ran under my bed and i think it still there."

wrecker frowned, brushing their hair back with his palm. "a monster? there's no monsters here, tooka. you're safe."

unconvinced, his adi'ka shook their head. "nuh-uh, daddy. i seent it."

he managed a small, sympathetic smile as he nodded his head. pulling adi'ka up and into the safety of his arms, wrecker carried his little one down the dimly lit hall and to their bedroom. they immediately squished their face in the crook of his neck, arms tightly locked around it.

wrecker hunched over to lay them down on the bed, smiling when his adi'ka continued clinging onto him. his little mini was small but their grip was like iron.

"tooks," he rumbled with amusement. "i promise that there's no monsters under the bed."

"nuh-uh."

with a sigh, he glanced toward the nightstand and noticed a toy blaster, causing an idea to pop into his head. wrecker shifted his little one onto his hip, picked up the toy blaster, and tapped his adi'ka's back, causing them to peek at him.

"i can't blast the monster away if you're not in bed, adi'ka," he grinned, winking. "i need you to be my eyes and ears in case it runs away."

they nervously chewed on their lip, eyes flicking towards the shadows underneath their bed.

"honest?"

"honest," he promised, nodding for an added dose of assurance. "you get under the bed, all safe and comfy, and i'll check every corner of this room to find that monster."

that seemed to be convincing enough. his adi'ka nodded and stretched towards the bed, falling into it with a hefty bounce. they wormed their way underneath the sheets, pulling it all the way up to their neck while wrecker crouched down, glancing under the bed.

"nothing here, tooks," he voiced, glancing up just as adi'ka shook their head.

"no, daddy. i seent it. it was there."

wrecker nodded and continued searching through the room, peeking behind dressers and under them, through the closet and above bookcases. when he came across adi'ka's toy chest, he gave it a nudge with his legs, eyes widening when he saw the small creature curled up atop a stuffed rancor.

"found it!" he smiled, reaching down to pick up the ball of fuzz.

with a yawn, muchi the tooka cat unfurled in his arms and gave a long, hearty stretch, big eyes blinked up at wrecker before flicking over to his adi'ka. it gave a meow and leaped out of his arms, landing atop the bed.

adi'ka giggled, tiny hands reaching over to grab and pull the tooka into their arms. wrecker grinned when the cat gave an angry yowl before slowly succumbing to adi'ka's comforting squeeze. it relaxed against his little one, a pout of reluctance on its lips.

"see?" wrecker sang, setting the toy blaster atop the dresser. "no monsters — just muchi!"

his adi'ka warily nodded despite their eyes shifting over to the closet, brows pinching with uncertainty.

"daddy," they questioned softly, pleading gaze shifting to him. "can you stay with me? i don' wanna sleep alone."

wrecker didn't hesitate to nod, undeniably delighted by the request. "sure, tooks. scooch your booch and make some room for your pops."

little adi'ka scooted over only to giggle when wrecker struggled to fit on their too-small bed. the mattress was the width of his shoulders, so when his little one nearly fell over the edge, he grasped the back of their pajamas and raised them up in the air, plopping them down on his chest.

muchi the tooka found its perfect chance to escape adi'ka's grasp. it jumped to the foot of the bed and curled into a ball, exhaling a sigh.

meanwhile, adi'ka sprawled across wrecker like a flattened pancake, holding his chest with a perfectly content smile on their face. they looked up with their chin against his sternum, big eyes full of glee.

"goodnight daddy," they said, giggling when wrecker playfully ruffled their hair.

"g'night, tooks," he mused, tilting his head to glance at the tooka cat by his feet. "and g'night to you too, muchi."

adi'ka giggled once more, causing wrecker's heart to swell. "goodnight, muchi!"

when the cat responded with an annoyed grunt, the two looked at one another and began laughing. their little chuckles dissolved as his adi'ka rested their cheek against him, lulled to comfort by the sound of their father's heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of wrecker's chest.

it wasn't before long that snores began to echo through the room. wrecker's chest vibrated as he slept like a sprawled bear, limbs hanging off the sides of the small bed. and sitting on his chest, curled up like the tooka at the foot of the bed, was his little adi'ka, mouth open and curled up in a smile as they slept with the blissed reassurance of being safe in their father's arms.

-

i love love love dad!wrecker with my heart and soul. i'll never get over it. ever. uhggghghghg 😩🫶🏼

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Doctor Date

Book: Open Heart                     

Pairing/Characters:  Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Chandini Ramakrishnan), feat. Dr. Aaliyah Hadid (F!OC; AKA Biggest Chandyce Shipper after me and Bryce ofc)

Rating: Teen     

Warnings: mention of a homicidal case                 

Category: Fluff                

Format: "Edit"/Drabble

Summary: Chandini meets up with a close friend who is quick to tease her about a certain scalpel jockey

A/N: I know Liya is literally in all of my fics now but I don't care 😭 I can write whatever I want. Read more about their friendship here. I need to write Chandyce more they are and always will be my sweeties <3

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations, @openheartfanfics, @peonierose(?)

"It's him, isn't it?" Aaliyah teases her, sipping her coffee. Chandini sets her phone down on the wooden table at the coffee shop, looking everywhere but her friend's eyes. This doesn't deter her. "The surgeon from Edenbrook who wouldn't stop talking to you?"

"It's actually my colleague Sienna," Chandini emphasized. Aaliyah's eyes widened and smirked. She leaned closer to Chandini, as if they were children and whispering secrets past their bedtime. A few dark brown curls grazed Liya's shoulder and she whispered.

"You're a horrid liar. I always assumed people who went to medical school would be more intelligent, darling."

She mimicked Chandini's British accent and natural flourishes perfectly. The young doctor rolled her eyes and sipped her tea, glancing at her now buzzing phone.

"I don't talk like that, Doctor," she rolled her eyes. Aaliyah laughed.

"Sure you don't, Doctor," she paused as the phone continued to buzz with text messages. Aaliyah pointed to the phone. "Well, aren't you going to answer? You don't want to keep your beau waiting."

"'Beau' is a strong word, at most he's a nuisance," Chandini furrowed her eyebrows in frustration. "It's a miracle that he's lasted this long."

"An attractive nuisance," Aaliyah joked, noting her friend's sudden change in posture. Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Nini, come on. I was just joking! Sheesh, and I thought my job was stressful."

The waiter came by and handed the two women their biscottis for their drinks. Chandini sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just-he always gets on my nerves!"

Aaliyah raised an eyebrow. "And what does he do to make you this upset? Flirt with you every once in a while?"

Chandini groaned, waving her hands around. "He does it when I'm trying to do my job and because he knows it will make me mad. I-I'm telling you, he's an instigator!"

"And I'm telling you that he's an extremely talented surgeon! He was super helpful with our homicide case, even more helpful than the senior residents. Not to mention, really charming..."

The doctor barely hid a scowl, and Aaliyah chuckled. "Aww, looks like Nini's jealous." She rubbed Chandini's shoulders for a few moments before she waved her friend's hands away. "I'm not jealous, I think it's ironic that you're commenting on my supposed work crush yet we haven't talked about yours..."

Aaliyah blushed. "Nuh uh! Don't try to change the subject. My best friend is in love and refuses to tell me, even if she doesn't know it yet. My entire job is about analyzing behavior you can't lie to me."

She was interrupted by Chandini's phone buzzing again, prompting Nini to snatch the phone from her best friend. She quickly turned the phone to Chandini to unlock the phone and read through the messages from her Insta.

"You literally posted this photo ten minutes ago and he's left a ridiculous amount of comments and DMed you ten more times... I think I need to revise my hypothesis," she said, her jaw practically dropping to the floor.

Chandini gasped, and took the phone back from her best friend before asking, "And what would that be?"

Aaliyah smiled, her finger grazing the rim of her almost empty cup. "That you're both two idiots in love. "

[flange5]

If you've been following me for a while, you know that this toy is a staple in Macaron's life. I stock up on it because it's the one toy that makes him wild no matter what.

Also it's Iron Man, and therefore on brand. But I think combination of the size, plushiness, elastic string, and curled ribbons is what makes it so irresistible-I've tried similar ones with straight ribbons-nope. curled ribbons and basic string-nuh-uh. It has to be this one.

Anyway, right now, it's $1.92 instead of its usual $8-10 on Chewy. The discount only shows at checkout. It's (here). Did I buy 6 to stock up on for me? Yes. And two for my parents' cats? also yes. Other cat and dog products are also 70% off right now, so go have fun.

[faeriekit]

warnings for. uh. ghost pregnancy?

The first thing that comes is the fog. It’s clearly magical— furthermore, it’s clearly Phantom’s, which allows everyone in the vicinity slowly lower the weapons that had snapped into awaiting hands.

Duul Amon vaguely handwaves drippings of the new cloud away, not that it helps; the fog is centered on his person, and his person only, forming an airy shell that swirled up his legs and up over his head.

Phantom’s form solidifies in the roiling mass. The creature is always on the thinnest edge of humanity, with his sharp teeth, half-inch claws, white hair, too-blue eyes. On his shoulders rest the black furred vestments of his position. Above his brow floats the iron crown, glistening with frost on black tarnish.

Darling, the creature purrs, and his claws trail across Duul Amon’s bare skin. Brightest Flame, Rising Sun—

“Nuh-uh,” Duul Amon protests immediately, dark eyes narrowed. Phantom pouts. “None of this darling nonsense. You promised you’d pick them up at six.”

Phantom glances as his wrist. When he realized he had no watch, he checks Duul Amon’s wrist.

“It’s eight, to be clear. I told you I was covering the league meeting this month.”

...Apologies, the creature humms, put out. I misunderstood the time zones I flew through in my haste to return.

“Apologies, apologies,” Duul Amon scoffs, but Phantom only pushes himself closer, until they are nearly chest to chest, mouth to mouth. “You’re cooking dinner tomorrow night too, you know.”

Acceptable. The god-creature holds out a clawed hand between them, a silent request, for— something. For now, might you still entrust me with the little ones?

Duul Amon grouses inaudibly, but his breath catches, his lungs stutter; Phantom is in the choked-off breath, inhaling something straight from the pharaoh’s chest.

Little orbs seep out of his dark skin. They must be no smaller than ping-pong balls, though they hold their own incandescent light.

Phantom breathes in, and they press through his skin and into the creature’s own chest.

“Entrust you,” Duul Amon grumbles, but the man’s irritation is already receding. Phantom’s hands are at his shoulders, his face at his cheek, at the edge of his round lips, too close for anything other than a jarring intimacy. “As if I have any other choice. They exhaust me. I don’t have the energy to spare to carry them all the dang day.”

I know, Phantom coos, I know. Would you like me to cover the meeting?

Duul Amon’s shoulders drop. Exhaustion takes him. “...Please?”

Of course. And, of course, shirking any security measures the Watchtower may have in place, the being rips an emerald-green, glistening rip into the fabric of reality itself.

Duul Amon departs.

The rift closes. Phantom takes Duul Amon’s chair. 

The rest of the league, having no idea what they had just watched, stares.

Phantom eventually realizes that they had disrupted the entire meeting with his arrival. His cheeks flush a blue-purple. ...We’re pregnant, is all he says.

That clarifies nothing. The entire hall stares. In the back, a Green Lantern slowly curls his hands into a thumbs up.

...Phantom quietly slouches lower and lower into his seat.

*

(The being is, however, significantly more cheered up when congratulatory messages begin to hit their League inbox.)

DP X DC crossover prompt

Sam and Tucker, thanks to living in Amity Park and being overshadowed and controlled by ghosts so many time, had become very liminal. Until an accident while trying to stop the newest ghost enemy led to the two of them becoming halfa’s. Sam’s ghost form looks like what she looked like during the whole Undergrowth thing. And Tucker’s ghost form looks like his King Tuck design.

After a reveal gone wrong, Danny, Sam, and Tucker flee Amity Park. The trio run away to Gotham, and using money Sam managed to snag from her account before they left, they buy a nice sized building right in the middle of Crime Alley. They decide to turn it into a bookshop and cafe. There’s a garden/greenhouse attached to the back end of the building where Sam grows all her plants and herbs. Tucker has his own tech room in the basement alongside Danny’s tiny lab space. They live together in the apartment above the bookshop/cafe.

One day while out on a walk, Danny stumbles across two tiny twin half formed baby ghost cores. They’re nothing more than tiny little balls of glowing light at the moment. Baby ghosts that are just starting to form but are nothing more than cores at the moment. But they seem to be slowly fading. Danny refuses to let them fade away into nothing. He scoops them up, infuses them with some of his ectoplasm to get them going, and then shoved them into his chest for safe keeping and so that they can be close to his own core which starts slowly feeding them energy.

Danny rushes back to the shop and drags Sam and Tucker to the upstairs apartment and shows him the baby ghost cores he’s found. The three all agree that they’re going to help these cores develop into actual ghosts. They switch off on who carry’s the ghost cores around. Some days it’s Danny. Some days it’s Tucker. And some days it’s Sam. Each of them feeding the cores a little bit of their ectoplasm to help them grow.

One of the cores feels distinctly female and has a purplish blue glow to it. The three start jokingly calling her violet. The other core has a distinctly male feel to it. It’s an orangish red and has a small crack along one side of it. Danny jokingly said one time how he (the baby core) kind of looked like Nemo’s egg at the beginning of Finding Nemo and ever since they’ve been calling him Nemo.

The two cores have been developing very slowly, both seemingly unable to absorb the needed ectoplasm, to form into full ghosts, quickly. The trio is fine with this, they can be patient, and wait to meet their twins.

Then one day there’s some kind of massive ghost attack. Maybe a cult or something attempted to summon the ghost king but messed up the summoning and accidentally summoned something else. The Justice League try and fight the thing, but they’re no match for this ghost monstrosity. And the JLD aren’t available to help for whatever reason. The trio decides to step in and help. They kick the crap out of the ghost pretty easily and send it back to the ghost zone. Then Danny, in his King Phantom garb (crown of fire, whispy white fire like hair, a regal looking version of his hazmat suit, the ring of rage on one finger, and a cape around his shoulders, the outside being pure white but the inside looking like the vastness of space) approaches the cult and rebukes them, telling them how even if they had managed to summon him he never would have helped them take over the world.

After that the trio become members of the Justice League. Thanks to some of Danny’s previous time travel shenanigans, and Danny being the ghost king, and Sam and Tucker his consorts/mates(?) the Justice League all think that the trio are ancient eldritch ghost gods.

And then one day when the trio are in the Watch Tower with the rest of the League their twin baby ghost cores come up. Maybe it was time to switch out who was carrying them, and mid meeting or lunch or whatever, Danny just reaches into his chest, pulls out two small glowing orbs. He cradles them close to his chest for a moment, looking at them lovingly, and whispering something soft to them in ghost speak. Then hands them over to Sam, who does the whole cradle them close and whisper softly in ghost speak before shoving them right into her chest.

They look up from this to see the whole League staring at them wide eyed and confused. Danny just casually explains that those are their children but they’re still forming so the trio needs to keep them close to their cores to help them grow, but they like to switch up everyday who carry’s them. Every member of the Justice League becomes super protective of the trio after this. They see it as the three essentially being pregnant (sort of), and they don’t always know which one of them is carrying the baby ghost. So best to just be protective of all three. The trio finds this kind of amusing and a touch bit sweet.

When the twin baby cores finally develop into actual baby ghosts, the two kind of look like a mixture between Danny, Sam, and Tucker’s ghost forms. Though Violet has dark purple hair and eyes and Nemo has bright orangish red hair and eyes.

[boom-bakugou]

Cockwarming Scenarios

A/N: This is for my @bnhabookclub bingo card where I had the prompt ‘Cockwarming!’ enjoy sinners (:<

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Kirishima x Reader, Sero x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Hawks x Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, cockwarming, (also breeding kink and dumbification in hawks’ whoops sorry)

masterlist

-Bakugou normally isn’t one to instigate cockwarming

-It’ll normally be when you’re needy and he’s doing something like paperwork for his hero agency and isn’t saying much but you can tell he’s tired and won’t exactly want to fool around

-But as soon as he realises how wet you are and how much you’re begging for him to touch you he can’t say no to his pretty baby all riled up

“Just come sit here for one second you shitty woman.” He grumbles, pushing his desk chair back ever so slightly after your insistent whining for him to pay attention to you.

He turns the spinning chair to you, his lap open wide and ready for you to sit on to which you happily oblige, sitting your butt down on his crotch for him to just grab your waist tightly.

“Not like that.” Within a brief spin you’re sitting with your chest to his, legs straddling his own as he tucks his chair back under the desk.

“Katsu- come on please.” You whimper, grinding your sopping core against his jeans where you can feel his cock hardening beneath you. With a short ‘hrmph’ you feel his hands slip between the two of you so he can pull his cock out in the open. You grind yourself on his thigh for a few moments as he fists his member at the feeling of you against him.

“Come on then needy girl, slide on my cock.” The smirk on his face is devilish and you slide down your panties from beneath your oversized shirt (which was one of his, just so you could tease him further. You knew how much he loved you in his shirts).

Moaning slowly as you move down his cock for the stimulation of feeling full, you begin to buck your hips against his once you’re down to his hilt- before he grabs your waist tightly; enough to leave spots of bruises.

“Now sit there and be a good fuckin’ girl.” He slides his arms past you, looking over your shoulder as he tries to continue his work despite the feeling of your fleshy walls around him almost made him want to fuck your brains out on his desk right then and there.

“You can’t do this.” You snivel into his shoulder, every small movement you made to try and get yourself off effortless against his iron grip on your side.

“Well baby, good girls don’t beg unless told to.” He makes his point by pulling you up ever so slightly and thrusting into you with a force that makes you crackle out a moan. “And even good-er girls do what they’re fuckin’ told, you got that shitty woman?”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now be quiet or you’re gonna’ regret it princess.”

-Kirishima after sex loves to cockwarm you

-He’s just so tired and loves the warm feeling of being inside you and it makes after sex cuddles just more intimate

“Where do you want me to cum sweetheart? Fuck you’re so fucking tight baby girl.” Kirishima croaks out into your ear, riding out the rest of your orgasm as he chased his.

“M’inside of me Eiji.” You practically drool at the feeling of him convulsing inside of you, gripping onto his flattened hair practically setting him off edge at the stimulation.

After catching his breath, Kirishima’s arms wobble around you from keeping himself pried up above you. You can feel the hot spurts of cum dribble from inside of you and as Kirishima is fully finished, he pulls you against him as he lies down with his cock still firmly inside of you.

“Kiri-“ You whine at the feeling of being so full. You don’t know how much you can take after having so many orgasms pulled out of you. Your clit was so overstimulated and your body was shaking from it but Kirishima held you tightly enough for it to simmer down.

“Come on baby just 5 more minutes.” His mumbles were so sleepy, it was probably going to be way more than 5 minutes. “You just feel so nice around me, like you were made for me princess.”

He presses kisses all over your face, making sure not to miss a single inch before you settled snugly into his chest.

“So beautiful.” Kirishima whispers, moving his hips ever so slightly to nestle into you further. “My fucking beautiful girl huh?”

His toothy grin is enough to make you giggle, his hands slide down your sweat covered bodies to grab your ass tightly. The action makes him twitch inside of you slightly and you gasp at the sudden explicitness of his actions.

“You sure you couldn’t go for a round two baby?”

“I… wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

-Sero loves sleepy cockwarming

-he’s too tired in the morning to fuck you but you’re both hot and bothered but neither of you fully want to be athletic so early; this is your compromise

“Whatchu doing sweetness?” Sero blinks a couple times as you palm him through his boxers, a sleepy grin on your face. “What? You want me inside of you baby?”

You nod slowly, the tiredness in your eyes making your blinks last longer but down below you felt like you could melt. All you wanted was for him to be inside of you so badly.

“C’mere then love.” His morning voice is so croaky as you slide up his torso. He flips you so you’re lying next to him, one leg draped over his waist as he shuffles your pyjamas down your legs before following suit with his own boxers. He pushes his fingers against your folds, gathering slick before teasing against your entrance which makes you buck your hips into his palm.

“So needy aren’t we?” Sero smirks to then press a kiss onto your forehead. He rests his hands to your lower back as he pulls your hips closer to his before slowly sliding himself into you before completely bottoming out “Shit- you’re so warm.”

You happily hum at the feeling of him inside you, the pressure making you roll your hips slightly against him which allowed his cock to move into you more comfortably; in turn hitting your g-spot nicely.

The two of you spent a few more moments lazily grinding against one another before the two of you lost interest in getting each other off and more about you both being so close and whole with one another.

“D’ya want me to pull out of you pretty girl?” Sero slightly cleared his throat to get rid of it’s morning rasp, just as he began to pull away you placed your hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving any further. You curled closer into his chest, letting his arms wrap around you to nestle in together.

“Leave it.” You mumble against his bare chest, barely enough for him to hear you but he easily picked it up due to the proximity of you both. “S’Keepin us warm.”

“Okay pretty girl.” Sero plants a kiss to your hair line, feigning back a yawn. “I’ll keep you warm.”

-DABI ooft that man will use it as a punishment baby

-this is one of his more tame punishments because he can get sadistic, it just depends on how mouthy you’ve been with him that day

“You little slut.” Dabi hisses through his teeth, a warm spank against your ass acting as the punctuation of his words. You’d forgotten how many you’d received but you couldn’t say it wasn’t making you feel so fucking turned on.

“You think you deserve my cock huh?” Another slap to your other ass cheek. “Tell me doll, do you think you fucking deserve it?”

“Yes sir- please I’ll be good.” You whinge, head too dizzy to keep it up after being laid over his lap for god knows how long. You had no effort anymore to keep up the bratty act, all you wanted to do was cum.

“There’s my good whore.” He chuckles, helping you sit up before lying you back down on your shared bed. Hissing when your ass touches the sheets from the sheer amount of beating it had just received. You were just glad to finally get off his lap.

Dabi slid his jeans off, before laying down next to you. Pumping his cock a few times before encouraging you to get on top of him. He smirks at your tired expression as you begin to straddle him sliding down onto his shaft slowly.

You begin to use your bruised thighs to lift yourself up but Dabi ultimately pushes you back down, his other hand reaching for his phone. You look at him with confusion as you try to wiggle around him for any sort of stimulation. You felt like you were on fire with how much you wanted him to just fuck your brains out.

“Nuh uh doll. You’re getting this cock just like you wanted.” He lets out a low laugh, watching as the realisation sets in on your face. “Shame that bratty fucking mouth of yours had to ruin it. How’ds’it feel to be so full of my cock hm?”

You swore you could have screamed as you lay against his chest, one arm behind his head as the other scrolled mindlessly on his device, not even touching you.

“Please sir- I’ll be so good for you, just touch me a little.” With no warning Dabi slams back up into your hips and you let out a lewd moan at the friction inside of you.

“Each time you fucking squirm or complain I’m gonna make it longer. Now shut that whore mouth of yours up or you will regret it.”

-Hawks lives for cockwarming… why?

-because this mans breeding kink is off the scale!!!

-loves cockwarming literally after every time you have sex when you’re trying for kids he fucking loves the feeling of just being left inside of you.

“Fuck baby bird you feel so fucking good around my cock.” Hawks’ shuddering moans mixed with your own filled the room with explicit ecstasy. “M’gonna fill you up with so much cum baby, you want that huh? Want me to fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes Hawks fuck- please m’need it so bad.” You weep at the feeling of his balls slapping against you harshly. It only spurred him on to cum so deep inside of you.

“Fuck. This cunt was made for me babe.” Hawks bit his tongue at the feeling of you tightening around him, threatening to reach your high also. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty pussy with my cum you got that?”

You moaned at his lewd words, babbling out ‘yeses’ and anything else that was in any way affirmative to getting you any closer to euphoria, Hawks couldn’t help but chuckle at your state.

“Look at my baby bird.” He pulls out far and plunges deep into you, hitting just the right spot. “I love it when you get so needy you turn dumb baby, fuck you stupid because all you want is my cum, yeah?”

With his filthy words you let out a raspy moan as you came undone around his cock. It only took a few more thrusts before he too climaxed inside of you, fucking his cum right back into your entrance. Pulling you into him with his wings as added leverage he pulled you to lay next to him, cock still firmly thrusted into you.

“Keigo aren’t you going to-“

“Come on baby bird, you know the rules.” He kissed your forehead, using little feathers to pull the hair back from your face ever so gently so he could look into your eyes. “Gonna keep my cock nice and warm inside of you to fuck my cum into you huh? Ain’t that right?’

[milky-fixx]

prompt: henry + vampire au + the naughtiest kink you can think of for him 

tw/cw: 18+ smut, bloodplay, dubcon, possessive behavior, using blood as lube, unprotected s*x, inseminating with venom, blood drinking gone wrong

“Do you trust me?” Henry asks, and he’s all smiles and mirth. Even streaked in the blood of the army he decimated, just moments ago.

The sight should be terrifying, unsettling. His lilac gaze, streaked with the same crimson soaking his clothes, staring up at you.

But of course you trust him. Even as you tempt death itself. Even without the strange, hypnotic quality to his gaze—something his kind had perfected, he told you once. You’d trust Henry with your life. And the revelation in and of itself has your nerves fraught.

At your hesitant nod, he hums, peering up at you.

“Hmm~ You sure?”

You nod again, swiftly, before you can change your mind. His eyes curl up into their signature half-moons, his smile wide.

“Thank you for the meal~”

He bites down into the flesh of your thigh, groaning at the taste, his fangs digging in deeper. The initial pain comes on sharp, like a hot iron, but bit by bit it leeches out of you. You relax into it, endorphins bubbling inside of you. It’s a dizzying high. Henry had mentioned that a vampire’s bite could be pleasurable for some. You could attest to that.

Henry finally pulls away, your blood smeared across his face a bright, stark red, more vivid than his scarlet-streaked stare. He touches the life pouring out of your thigh, his gaze narrowing.

“Uh-oh, I might have taken a liiiiiitle too much. You’re looking pale.”

Are you? You can barely feel anything. It’s like you’re drifting, like nothing in this world is keeping you tethered. Your eyes threaten to slip shut.

“Hm.” The rustle of clothing. When you look, Henry’s disrobed himself, his pale cock reaching towards his navel. He catches your gaze and grants you a stiff smile. A hand on his length, the other parts your folds. He swipes the engorged tip of his cock against your bloodied thigh several times, panting softly.

He leans down, brushing his lips against yours. “This’ll only hurt for a second, okay?” Then his fangs penetrate your neck, at the same time that he breaches your entrance. You moan at the twinge of pain. You can feel his length pulse inside you.

“Oh~” he gasps, rocking his hips into yours.

Maybe it’s the sheer endorphins coursing through you, but you’ve never felt so out of it. Your eyes flutter shut once more, and Henry taps your cheek with a bloodied hand.

“Nuh-uh-uh, don’t fall asleep on me now~ Or else you might not wake up.” Despite his light tone, he seems to be frowning. His hips continue to slap against yours, his pace undeterred.

“I want you to k-know—” He lets out a short, high gasp when his cock slides into you deeper. His sharp nails dig into your thighs, leaving thin trails of blood. “This isn’t me fulfilling some kind of weird fantasy~”

“You’re the first human I’ve liked in awhile. I can’t have you dying now~” His voice sounds strained, and if you were able to watch, you’d notice the deep furrow between his brows, the way he digs his fangs into his bottom lip.

“Wow, you’re so quiet. If it wasn’t for your slight moans, I wouldn’t even be able to tell you’re enjoying this, silly.” Despite the one-sided nature of your conversation, Henry seems apt to keep the talk going. He’s aware of the way your consciousness is slipping rapidly from you, and his words are just a means for you to hang on a bit longer.

“Ngh…” Henry’s hips stutter as he lets out a shaky cry of your name. He bloodied fingers trail across your clammy cheek, brushing away stray hairs from your face. His thrusts are erratic now, his groans shakier. It takes a few calls of your name before you realize he’s speaking to you, and your eyes open blearily.

“Ah! You’re awake.” His smile wavers as he gasps, his hips stilling. “D-Did you know....” He smears the blood on your neck, thumbs the fresh bite marks, before trailing it towards your lips as if entranced himself. “Vampire semen contains traces of venom?”

“O-ooh.” His breath catches, and suddenly he jerks his hips hard against yours. He leans over you, moaning softly as his seed spills into you.

“We’ll be together forever,” he says breathlessly, and the smile he sends you is so serene.

It’s the last thing you see before darkness drags you under.

[anxiouswormonastring]

CHAPTER TEN

“Barbatos, the god of freedom…how ironic.”

AETHER’S POV

Following Y/N’s paw prints, the two kept an eye out for their new friend.

“Y/N’s pretty fast, huh. Kinda makes Paimon wish we could get another ride.”

Aether rolled his eyes and playfully shoved the little pixie. “You’d probably go flying if they went too fast,” he teased, causing Paimon to sputter and stomp her foot(???) in the air.

“Wha- not true! Paimon’s not that small!” Her cheeks puffed out in a pout, “and besides, Paimon would be holding on real tight so it would be impossible to…”

They both froze as they reached the end of the tracks. Bits of dirt were exposed and flung across the snowy area, signaling that a violent struggle had taken place not too long ago. Large footprints were scattered in the snow, another trail stemming from them.

“Maybe Y/N chased them off,” Paimon suggested as she watched Aether investigate the scene.

His eyes followed a large drag mark in the snow. “I don’t think they did,” he said, noticing that the mark led to the trail of large footprints. Straightening himself, Aether began to follow the prints, his floating companion trailing close behind.

They traveled as quickly and as quietly as the snow would allow until they came across a large Fatui camp. Towards the center was a large cage, half covered by a sheet of cloth.

“That’s gotta be them,” Paimon stated, slamming her fist into her palm.

Aether was quick to shush her and pull her down out of view. He counted at least eight skirmishers in the area alone, most likely there were more scattered in the surrounding area. Turning back to Paimon, he began to explain his plan.

“Think you’ll be able to find the keys while I take them on?” Aether summoned his blade and gripped it tightly, waiting for Paimon’s answer.

“Huh?! You’re gonna take all of them on by yourself?! Paimon won’t let you,” she hissed out, clutching onto his arm and burying her face into his clothes. “Nuh-uh! There’s gotta be another way to get through them!”

A gentle hand came to pat her back, causing her to look up at him. “I’ll be okay, Paimon. I promise,” he whispered, prying her off of him.

A small whine slipped through Paimon’s mouth. “Hmm, fine. But if you get hurt, Paimon will kill you.”

Aether smiled and nodded, “deal.”

YOUR POV

Being trapped was exhausting. It was bad enough that you couldn’t leave this frozen hellscape but now you barely had enough room to stretch out fully. So you ended up laying curled up on your side, if you couldn’t escape through brute force then you’d at least try and get them to lower their guard and let something -anything- slip.

Unfortunately, they refused any and all interaction even going as far as covering your cage again which earned them a mouthful of profanities from you before they threatened to yank your chain again.

So here you were, silent as a mouse and seething with rage as you tried melting through your restraints.

“I’d rather wrestle 10 whopperflowers than go wherever they’re taking me,” you grumbled, hissing in pain as the shackles continued to rub your skin raw. Letting go of the chain, it gave a hiss of its own when it came in contact with the snowy ground below.

The moment you rested your head against the cool metal bars, you heard a familiar shout. Hurriedly getting up, you reached through the bars of the cage and gripped the cloth. It erupted into flames as soon as your fingers settled on it, allowing you to see Aether (getting his shit rocked-) trying to take on the skirmishers that guarded you.

“You two! Get that thing out of here and get into contact with Scaramouche!”

Hearing the order, two of the larger skirmishers nodded and came rushing towards your cage.

Refusing to let them get close, you slammed your hands into the ground with a shout. A wave of scorching flames burst from your body, melting away the snow and charring the earth below you.

The skirmishers stepped back hurriedly, trying to put their shields back up. Before you could send out another wave, you spotted a little floating blob of white.

Almost crashing into the door, she whipped out a key and began trying to fit it into the lock. With each try, she was getting visibly more frustrated. Eventually she slammed the key into the dirt below and kicked the lock. “What’s the point of having a key that doesn’t open the only lock around,” she shrieked. She shrieked again, barely dodging a strike from the anemo skirmisher who had just finished recovering.

You watched as they fended off your floating friend before cutting the chains from their anchor point. A sly smirk found its way onto your face as you yanked them into the cage, preventing them from restraining you further. One of them, the electro skirmisher, tried to reach in and you took that chance to latch onto his arm. Electro energy danced across your skin as you braced yourself.

It was common knowledge that pyro and electro result in quite the violent reaction. And that was exactly what you were counting on. The blast of Overload was enough to knock the cage on its side and render the two skirmishers unconscious.

In a tangle of limbs and chains, you could barely move but you refused to lay down just yet. Aether was still fighting.

Through the painful ringing in your ears, you heard Paimon. It was hard to understand what she was saying, but you could tell she was worried. Pulling out another key, she fumbled with the lock until a satisfying ‘click’ was heard. The door fell open and she rushed to your side.

The second you were able to, you leapt out, hands wrapping around the base of the chains and heating them as much as you could. Swinging your arm forward, the chain acted like a whip, snapping against the back of a skirmisher. You repeated the motion with your other arm and felt the chain wrap tightly around his neck. Fueled by the desire to protect, you managed to sling the man to the ground as he choked out a scream.

You fought with a fury not even you knew you possessed and soon, the final skirmisher fell.

The three of you stood in silence for a moment. Paimon floated over to Aether and began to bombard him with questions about his well-being. You watched as he waved her off and focused on you. He looked concerned and yelled something, rushing forward to catch you in his arms. You didn’t even notice you fell until he pulled you close.

“You’re…okay, right?” You brought your hand up to brush against the newer cuts and scrapes that littered his face.

“I should be asking you that,” he said, gripping your hand in his own.

Before you could utter another word, Paimon tugged at Aether’s shirt and pointed to another group of skirmishers with a small whimper.

That same desire to protect sent a new strength through your body. It was enough to get you up but not enough to keep you from trembling. Gripping the chains once more, you glared at the group ahead.

Aether followed your lead, standing up shakily and summoning his sword.

“Time to work,” one smirked as the wind picked up.

But this wind wasn’t natural. It smelled familiar and was growing stronger by the second.

Aether helped you keep steady as Paimon clung to your clothes, trying not to get blown away.

“Think you can get away?”

A green clad figure dropped from the cliff above, a torrent of arrows following in his wake. Looking towards the group, he fired another into the center.

You all watched as a black hole(???) opened up and began pulling the skirmishers in. Once he was sure that they were all either dead or unconscious, he turned to the three of you.

“Venti?”

Your body felt weak again. Crumpling back to the floor, Aether followed, pulling you protectively into his chest.

A low growl rumbled from your chest as your vision blurred. “Barbatos, the god of freedom…how ironic.”

[sergeantsporks]

Hexside University’s Falling Down

TW: A whole lotta abuse in this one, also some throwing up, panic attacks.

“They’ll be beefing up security, these plans are old.”

Eda nodded. “You up for a bit of reconnaissance? It’s cold, I know, but if we go tonight—”

There was a frantic knock at Eda’s office door, and Eda swept the building blueprints into the trash can. “Who’s…?”

Luz opened the door, then stepped back. “Hunter?!”

He was a mess—he was in pajamas, and his feet were bare, tinged blue from the cold. Blood was sluggishly trickling from a cut on his forehead, and his face was mottled with bruises. There was still snow dusting his hair from outside

“I messed up,” he babbled, tears streaming down his face, “I messed up so bad, Luz, Amity’s in trouble because of me, and—oh god—I’m probably going to get Eda fired just by being here, I’m sorry, I should go, I just didn’t know where else to go, I—”

Luz steered him inside, her heart pounding in her chest. “No way, nuh-uh, you get in here.”

Eda got up from her desk, eyes wide. “Whoa, kiddo, what happened?”

His shoulders shook harder, and he started to hyperventilate, gasping for breath. He grabbed the trashcan, throwing up. “I messed up so bad,” he whimpered, gagging.

Luz put a hand on his back. Part of her wanted to shake him and ask if Amity was okay, but she forced that part down. “Okay. Okay. Take a deep breath, Hunter. Deep breath.”

“Hnnnnnngh…”

Luz noticed a shard of glass stuck in the cut on his temple, and she gingerly pulled it out, pressing a tissue to the wound. “God… was it your uncle?”

He nodded, scooting back until he hit a wall and curling his knees up to his chest. “It was really bad, and I…” he tucked his head in his arms. “I messed up, I got in the way, I talked back, and then when I tried to run out—he followed me, Luz, he followed me this time, and he managed to convince the Blights that he wasn’t rip-roaring drunk and that Amity’s been sneaking out, and that we’ve been getting in trouble, and… God. God, oh my god—”

“Breathe,” Luz ordered, “Just… breathe.”

She looked up at Eda, and her mentor nodded. “I’ll take care of him. Go. Check on your girlfriend.”

“Thank you,” Luz whispered. She gave Hunter’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’re going to be okay. I’m going to check on Amity, and maybe break her out of her house, and we’re going to make this okay.”

“It’s not going to be okay,” he whispered, “I can’t go anywhere that he won’t be able to find me.”

“We’ll fix it,” Luz said firmly, “We’ll help you run away—whatever you need.”

He buried his head in his arms again, and Luz got up, slipping into her coat and running out the door.

I’m coming, Amity.

Xxx

Eda guided Hunter to his feet, draping her own coat around his shoulders. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He followed her, shivering. She didn’t know if it was from the cold, or the shock, or… she shook her head, steering Hunter to the bathroom. He paused at the door, taking a shaky breath. “Can you just… stay out here for a bit?”

“Okay,” Eda said softly, “Take as long as you need.”

The door swung shut, and Eda heard a muffled sob. She pulled out her phone, dialing Willow’s number. “Pick up,” she mumbled.

“Eda?” a bleary voice cracked over, “It’s like… 1 AM, what’s going on?”

“Get all your derby buddies and head down to the environmental science building. Immediately.”

“Huh?”

“It’s Hunter, he… he really needs his friends right now.”

“Okay.” Suddenly, Willow’s voice sounded VERY awake. “I’m on my way.”

Xxx

Luz blew on her hands to warm them up, then scaled the tree next to Amity’s window.

There was a grate covering it.

Luz’s face twisted into a scowl.

They can’t just keep her prisoner!

She tapped the window, clinging to the tree’s branch with her legs, and the curtains parted. Amity’s eyes widened, and she opened the window, shivering in the cold air. “Luz!”

“Amity!” Luz reached out, and Amity’s fingers entwined with hers through the iron grate. “Amity, are you okay?”

“Physically. How did you… Hunter?”

“Hunter,” Luz confirmed.

“Is he safe?”

“He’s with Eda. He told us he came here, but Belos followed him.”

“Yeah. He… yeah…” Amity shook her head. “My parents are…”

“They’re locking you up?!”

“They’re trying to make sure I don’t sneak out—and that Hunter can’t get in again. They want to stay on Belos’ good side.”

“This is so messed up!”

“I know. I know, but I… Luz, I don’t know what to do! I can’t get out, they’ve got security everywhere. Ed and Em offered to make a convincing dummy and then lower me out of their window with a rope made of bedsheets, but… well, mom and dad set up cameras outside of their windows ages ago. They probably know you’re here already.”

Luz gripped Amity’s hand tighter through the bars, Amity’s hand soft and warm against her icy ones. “I’m not leaving until we figure out a way to get you out of here.”

“Luz, I don’t want you arrested for trespassing! Go. I’m okay, mostly. And they’ll have to let me out to go to school, so I’ll try to get away then.”

Luz pressed her forehead against the bars. “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.

Amity kissed her forehead through the metal grate. “I know. But you have to. Please, Luz.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

Amity gave her a sad smile. “Okay. A few more minutes.”

Xxx

Eda took a deep breath, and knocked on the bathroom door. The derby team crowded behind her. “Hunter? I’m coming in.”

She opened the door, and he looked up at them from the floor, his eyes red. Willow and the rest of his friends filed in, their faces shifting into expressions of silent horror.

Hunter rubbed his eyes. “Some tough derby skater I am, huh?” he asked in a shaking voice, tears bubbling in the corners of his eyes again.

“Nah,” Gus replied after a moment, “You’re the toughest out of all of us.”

Hunter’s face twisted up, and he broke out in a sob. The derby team slid down on their knees next to him, wrapping their arms around him.

“Huddle up, team,” Willow murmured, “What’s the strategy, Skara?”

“Group hug,” the musician responded, squeezing tighter, “And then an injury check.”

Eda stood outside. She could hear Hunter’s heartbroken, heaving sobs, and she clutched at her chest.

This can’t happen anymore.

I can’t let it happen anymore.

Eventually, his sobs tapered off, and when she checked in again, Viney was stitching up the cut on his forehead while the rest of the team huddled around him, arms around his shoulders.

This isn’t right.

Xxx

“Luz?”

Luz lifted her face from the bars, wincing as her skin stuck to the cold metal for a moment. “Mrgh?”

“It’s dawn, Luz,” Amity murmured gently, “You need to go.”

Luz laced her fingers through the bars. “I don’t want to.”

Amity put her hand over her fingers, and put her face against the bars. “I know. And I love you for it. But please. For me.”

“For you,” Luz mumbled. She pressed a kiss to Amity’s lips through the bars, then slowly detangled herself and climbed back down the tree, trudging back to Eda’s office, shivering.

The entirety of the roller derby team was there, sleeping in one big cuddle pile on the floor, curled around Hunter. He looked… still not great, but at least he was asleep. And bandages covered the cut on his forehead. Eda held a finger to her lips, getting up from her desk and going outside. Luz followed, shutting the door with a quiet click.

“You look… tired,” Eda said diplomatically.

Luz yawned, still shivering from the cold. “Yeah,” she mumbled, “maybe a bit.”

“How’s Amity?”

“They’ve got her locked up, Eda. Like some kind of animal.”

“We’ll get her out, kiddo.”

“Eda, I… what do we do?”

“Well, first, you’re going to go back to your dorm, and you’re going to get some sleep. You look awful.”

“And after that?”

Eda scowled. “And after that? We’re fighting.”

[cherrycheridarling]

chemistry test | t.h.

tom holland x actress!reader

warnings: fluff and acting..?

summary: you're auditioning for the role of silk in the new marvel film. they've already chosen their spider-man and now it's time to see how much chemistry you two have.

wc: 1.9k

"Hi! I'm here for the Marvel auditions?" you greeted the lady who sat at the front desk.

"Hello! What's your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Nerves were running through your veins at lightning speed. The lady gave you a kind smile and told you to head to room three hundred and sixteen. You returned the smile before heading to the elevators.

Upon entering, you were faced with at least fifteen other women who were also auditioning. All with black locks and brown eyes. You'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly intimidated. Sure, you had done some small films here and there, but looking at the competition now was frightening. A lady came and handed all of you a small script. At least it was a distraction. You spent the entire time reading your lines and trying your hardest to memorize them.

You sat in the waiting room for at least fourty-five minutes before your name was finally called and you were escorted into another space. Once you entered, your eyes were immediately drawn to the long table where the producers, casting crew and directors - who you've met hundreds of times in your previous auditions - were sat. You shook hands and gave greetings, the usual.

"Y/N, meet our new Spider-Man." Kevin gestured to the brunette boy at the front of the room.

He was cute. Dangerously cute. His small curls that laid messily only seemed to add to his appeal.

You smiled and walked over to him, "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. It's great to meet you." you offered your hand.

He returned the grin before shaking your hand, "Tom Holland. It's a pleasure." you noticed his British accent and couldn't stop yourself from the confused expression that took over your features.

"You're British?"

He nodded with a smile, "That I am, but," he switched to an American accent, "I can turn it off, too."

Your smile grew, impressed by his ability, "That's so cool. I would try a British accent, but I feel like I might offend you."

He laughed with you for a bit, his hand still holding yours. You both noticed the predicament and quickly withdrew your hands. Sheepish grins showed on both your lips.

Joe Russo cleared his throat, "A little background information in case you're not familiar with Cindy Moon's story."

You silently thanked him for this since you were not at all familiar with whatever the character entailed. Only getting small glimpses of her personality and behaviour before you got thrown into the mix of auditions.

"Cindy and Peter went to the same school and got bitten by the same radioactive spider. A man took Cindy and trained her, but also hid her in a bunker when her powers became too much for her to control. Her Silk Sense – which is her version of a Spider Sense – is incredibly powerful. Stronger than Peter's. In this scene, Peter is saving her from the bunker. Understood?" he spoke so quickly that you nearly didn't catch it all, but nevertheless, you nodded your head.

"Got it." you put the script to the side and took off your jacket.

"Now," Kevin spoke, "Remember, this is a chemistry test. So we want to see – not just how compatible your characters are – but you guys, as well."

Your palms began to sweat. You already knew that they were looking for chemistry, but being put on the spot made your anxiety sky rocket. You nodded again in understanding.

"Sounds good." Tom went to the other side of the room, "Good luck." he sent you another frustratingly attractive smile.

You nodded with your own grin, "Thanks, Spidey."

You spotted a small cot beside you and made your way over, laying with your back to Tom. Ready to start the scene.

"Action!"

Before any lines were given, you lifted your head, but kept it facing the wall. As if you were listening for something, waiting for something.

"Spider- Boy? Guy? Spider-something." you spoke to the wall and a second later, Tom's footsteps were heard behind you.

"I prefer Spider-Man." Tom's voice filled your ears as he leaned against the wall. "Nice to meet you, Cindy Moon."

You held a hand to your head, as if a painful migraine had just arrived. "Your presence is causing me pain. Who-" you looked up at the man, recognition dawning on your features, "Peter."

"W-what? N-n-no, no, no. Who's Peter? I'm Spider-Man." he insisted rather poorly. Deepening his voice.

You turned your body around, hanging your legs off of the cot, "I-I feel it. I remember you. Parker from my science class. Left row, three seats behind me. And my math and history. Front row in history. Middle in math. You always had a new backpack every week."

"Eidetic memory." he mumbled under his breath.

"Hm?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Nothing. Never mind. We can discuss this later. You need to get out of here. And I have come to save you from whatever this place is." he eyed the space with disgust.

You eyed him suspiciously, "Is this some Disney movie? Is there a magical horse drawn carriage waiting outside?"

He showed a boyish grin, "I guess you can call me your knight in red and blue spandex."

You scoffed and stood up, "Okay, Parker. How'd you know I was here?"

"Oh! This awesome dude, Tony Stark, he knows, like, everything! A-and he told me that you were here and sent me on a mission– Which is so cool! But yeah, he told me to come and save you. And that is what I am doing." he jumped up and down like an excited child.

You eyed the space around you, "Wait. M-my powers. I can't control them. I-I mean, I'm trying, b-but it's still—"

"—We can focus on that later! Right now, the richest and sickest guy on the planet is requesting you. C'mon." he grabbed your hand and, as scripted, you both locked eyes immediately.

You tried your best to look like you were falling in love. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you found that it wasn't that difficult. He stared back into yours. His hand still wrapped around your fingers. Your free hand travelled to his face, as if you were about to pull his mask up. Resting your palm on his jawline. His other hand that wasn't grasping yours, rested on your hip. A light pressure that nearly sent you into a haze. You both began to lean in and it no longer felt like acting until you squeezed your eyes shut, shook your head and pushed him away rather aggressively.

You put a hand on the wall, drawing heavy breaths in and out, "W-what are you doing to me?" you looked at him through heavy eyelids.

Tom was in a similar position, back against the wall, hand over his chest, "Mister Stark said that m-might h-happen." his head was thrown back against the wall, showing off the expanse of his neck as he swallowed. "Something- Something about our senses causes a strong- How do I say this? I-Intimate attraction between us."

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing, "A-an attraction? An intimate attraction? To you? Ew."

He pushed himself off the wall, "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, Moon." he walked away from you, "We really need to get going. You- Oh! I've been wondering this: Where's your webbing?" he looked around as if he was searching for it.

You stuck your hand out and pretended to shoot a string of silk out of your finger and onto the wall. Tom followed your movements with a starstruck expression.

"That's sick! I have to make mine." he frowned, "We got bit by the same fricking spider and yours is in your hands? Let me see!" he came closer and attempted to grab your hand again before you quickly put it behind your back.

"Don't touch me." you spoke slowly, "I-if this attraction is caused by physical touch. Please, do not touch me."

He plastered on a playful smirk, "Oh, it's more than physical, Moon."

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the wall, "Dream on, Parker. Are we going to this Mister Stank or whatever?" you waved your hand with a limp wrist.

Tom gasped, "He's Iron Man! It's Mister Stark! Stark! Not stank! And you need a suit. Mister Stark has one ready for you at the compound, but you need something to wear on the way there." he looked around for one.

As if it had just dawned on your character that you were finally leaving the bunker, your attitude changed. A smile gracing your lips.

"I think I can do a little something."

You gestured your hands around yourself, pretending to create a suit from your silk. Tom watched with amazement, "Hey, how are you doing that?" he bent down and examined your body from head to toe.

"I had a lot of free time on my hands. Costume on-the-go. You like?" you smirked as you continued your movements.

Tom nodded his head as he came back up to stand beside you, "I could've saved so much time and money by doing that."

You finally completed your gesturing with a grin, "Ta-da! A bit sticky, but I think it'll do." you pretended to stretch around in the costume.

"Okay, let's go, Moon—"

"—Nope. Nuh-uh. When I'm webbed up like this, call me Silk." you smiled triumphantly.

And with that, the scene came to an end. The producers and casting directors all stood and clapped for you and Tom. You smiled widely at how successful it had gone. Before you could even react, Tom pulled you into a hug. Arms wrapped around your waist. Without a second thought, you wrapped yours around his neck with a laugh.

"You were amazing!" Tom praised you with a wide grin.

You couldn't help but to smile, "Thank you! It helps when you have an awesome scene partner."

His cheeks turned a shade of scarlet at your compliment before Anthony Russo spoke, "That was amazing! Thank you, Y/N."

You shook your head, "Thank you for having me."

Joe came and shook your hand, "Expect a call on Monday. Keep your ringer on." he smiled.

"And that wraps up the chemistry tests! Great job, everyone!" Anthony announced as you handed the script back to them and threw your jacket on.

You swung your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door.

"Wait!" Tom called from behind you.

You stopped in your steps and turned around with a kind smile.

He held out his phone, "Since we're going to be working together, might as well get to know one another." he had a timid grin.

"Don't jinx it, Holland." you let a light chuckle fall from your lips.

He shook his head, "It's not jinxing, it's manifesting and you were by far the best Cindy Moon. You've already got the part." he insisted making you shake your head.

"We'll see about that." you punched in your number and before you could add your name, Tom took his phone back.

"Wait." he quickly typed away.

'silk'

You smiled at the contact name before offering your phone. He typed in his number and took it upon himself to put the name.

'spidey'

"I'll see you around, Y/L/N." he gave you a little salute making you laugh.

You nodded, "Definitely, Holland." you turned around and walked out of the door.

Both of you were so engrossed in your interaction that you didn't notice the producers and casting directors watching from afar. Proud smiles dawning their lips.

They found their Cindy Moon.

[adhd-disaster-willie]

you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6

chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

warnings: swearing

word count: 2,757

notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))

---

It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time. 

“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn. 

Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.

“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”

Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”

“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”

“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.

Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”

“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”

“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”

“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles. 

“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”

“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile. 

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie. 

“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”

“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”

Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions. 

“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”

“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails. 

“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights. 

“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.

“Well?” 

Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”

Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”

Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”

“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”

Alex doesn’t say anything. 

“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke. 

Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him. 

“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”

“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”

“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”

“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs. 

“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”

“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”

“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk. 

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

---

Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.

It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad. 

Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that. 

Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining. 

Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her. 

Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.

“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle. 

Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”

“So why the… candles?”

“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”

“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”

“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”

“That’s…”

“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing. 

“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?”

“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”

“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing. 

Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows. 

“Lets go for a drive.”

Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.

“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.

The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving. 

Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.

Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie. 

Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off. 

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.

Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yea.”

Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”

“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”

“Hot dog.”

And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?” 

Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off. 

“I can what?”

“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”

So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”

Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance  to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second. 

The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge. 

Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!

“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex? 

Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.

---

notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow. 

chapter 6

taglist:  @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Ineffable bed snuggles!

Since I threw some angst at y’all I picked a fluff prompt off the list, #29, “I don’t want to wake up” because I thought that would be a nice ironic reversal from the painful one. (If you’d like to request a prompt, send me an ask, a private message, or even @ me in a comment!)

Content warning for, um, cute snuggles, sleepy faces, mushy awkwardness, kissing someone until they wake up?

--

Three days after their failed executions, Aziraphale and Crowley were still in bed.

Sunday had been eventful – the Trials (if you could call them that), dinner at the Ritz, a bottle of wine at the shop. They’d planned to take the Bentley for a drive, but upon reaching the flat, Aziraphale had seen how tired Crowley was and insisted he get a good night’s sleep. He’d all but dragged the demon into bed and then – surprising himself as much as Crowley – had climbed into the other side, pulling Crowley close and running fingers through his hair.

Aziraphale had slept several times over the last few days. Not for very long. Crowley was the marathon sleeper, Aziraphale could never manage more than an hour or two. Didn’t really like sleeping, in any case.

But he was finding that he did like waking up. Feeling the dream melt away, to be replaced by warmth and softness, an arm across his shoulders or around his middle, the slow rhythm of breath not far from where he lay. Then he’d open his eyes to see Crowley, face relaxed in sleep, eyelids twitching, lips slightly parted. Sometimes, if he moved too suddenly, the arm across him would tighten reflexively. Protectively.

Aziraphale had never, in all of eternity, felt as safe as he felt in that moment.

And so Aziraphale stayed in bed, night and day, falling asleep just to have the wonder of waking up again.

In between sleeps, he tried to memorize everything about Crowley. The way his hair fell across his forehead, the tiny movements of fingers and shoulder. Sometimes he would wriggle towards Aziraphale, sometimes further away, but on the whole the movement trends brought them closer as time wore on.

At one point, Crowley tucked his head under Aziraphale’s chin, forehead resting on the angel’s shoulder, every part of them pressed together. Aziraphale had been so deliriously happy, he’d never wanted to move again, even as the arm Crowley lay upon slowly grew numb and tingling.

Now and again, Crowley talked in his sleep, a string of nonsense syllables mumbled under his breath. Aziraphale didn’t understand them, but he caught his own name now and again. Each time, he whispered in reply, “Yes, dear,” and ran his fingers along Crowley’s jaw. This seemed to be the right response: his demon would sigh, smile a little, and drift into a deeper sleep.

Now, after days of slow sleepy bliss, Crowley had begun to stir. Breathing sped up, fingers twitched with more purpose. He grunted and frowned, brow furrowed.

“Good morning, dear,” Aziraphale started warmly.

“Mnn. No.”

“No?” He squinted through the door, judging the height of the sun through the solarium windows. “Good afternoon, then, I suppose.”

“No. Not gonna wake.”

“Whyever not? I find it quite…refreshing.”

“Mmmm. Dream. Good dream.”

“I see.” He traced a thumb along Crowley’s cheekbone. “Would you like to tell me?”

The smile returned, just a small one, as he spoke. “Zir’phale’s here. N’he loves me. N’we’re free.”

Aziraphale’s heart skipped in his chest. He hadn’t said the words yet, but he’d never said Crowley wasn’t astute. Suddenly, he didn’t want to sleep through another moment of their new life. Leaning forward until his lips hovered just above Crowley’s forehead, he whispered: “I have wonderful news for you.”

“Nnnn,” Crowley shook his head. “S’a trick.”

“Oh?” He leaned down, nose brushing through bright red hair. “Care to make a wager?”

“Nuh-uh. Told you. Don’t want to wake up.”

An even softer whisper. “May I kiss you, Crowley?”

“Yes.” A careful press of lips to his brow. “S’how I know s’a trick.” Another on that long, funny nose. “Ziraphale would never—”

Screwing up his courage, Aziraphale brought his lips to Crowley’s.

They weren’t quite as soft now as they’d been while he slept – surprise alone added a certain tension – but they were warm and sweet and Aziraphale drank them in like wine, returning again and again for another sip. After a moment, Crowley began to kiss him back, a little uncoordinated, but passionate and tender at the same time, each press shooting through Aziraphale like electricity. Crowley’s hand crept up his back, until his fingers tangled in the curls on the back of Aziraphale’s neck. The angel pressed his own hands to Crowley’s shoulders, drawing them closer, closer…

There was no telling how long they lay there, lost in their kisses. Neither of them needed to stop for breath, or for anything at all.

Eventually, Aziraphale pulled back and watched Crowley’s eyes flutter open. “Good morning.” A quick glance towards the solarium. “Er. Afternoon? Evening?”

“You, uh,” Crowley looked unusually flustered. “You stayed. Didn’t think…nh…”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just…and you’re…nlrgls.” He suddenly spun away, pulling into a ball, half-hiding under the blankets. “Did, uh. Did I talk?”

“A bit, yes. I think I’m starting to understand it.” He moved just close enough to rest his fingers on Crowley’s shoulders. “I meant it, my wonderful news. It’s true. All of it.”

Another mumble.

“I’m…” Suddenly, he felt shy, uncertain, an intruder in Crowley’s world. “I’m sorry, I’ve been…presumptuous, haven’t I? If you like, I’ll leave, and—”

“S’not that.” Crowley turned back, face nearly as bright red as his hair, and carefully took Aziraphale’s hand in his. “S’just. I’ve dreamt of this for two thousand years.” He gently kissed the back of Aziraphale’s hand, then each finger. “You’re always there, when I sleep.” He turned over the hand to kiss Aziraphale’s palm. “And then…when you really are here…I almost sleep through it!”

He held open his arms and, laughing, Aziraphale slid into them. He fit perfectly. “I didn’t mind. In fact, I look forward to doing this many, many more times. That is,” he added, trying to slow himself down, “if you’ll have me.”

“Have you? In my bed?” Good lord, he really could turn quite red. “Hnnnnnnnnnngh. Ye…yea…if you…I can…yes.”

“Well…well, jolly…er…boo…” He pressed his face against Crowley’s chest for a moment, quite overcome to the point of speechlessness. “I, ahem, I was going to suggest we get up and start our new life but…it is late…perhaps one more night in bed?”

He moved back to meet Crowley’s eyes again, which were now very wide. “Don’t want to sleep…”

“Oh, ah,” Aziraphale smiled in what he hoped was a winning way. “We don’t…have to sleep…yet…”

“NGK!” Crowley buried his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder, mumbling something nearly incomprehensible.

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “Yes, my love, I’d be quite content to lay like this forever.”