#did i write more than half of this like 3 weeks ago? yes

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[cosmos-coma]

My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

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________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.” 

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened. 

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 

He should have listened. 

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”  

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 

“Oh. I-” 

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 

“I can’t do this without you…” 

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

[folkwhoredoll]

soothing touch - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: after a tiresome week, your boyfriend knows just how to help

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex, nipple play), soft bf!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever say this enough but thank you for your support! however i might be inactive for the next days or weeks because easter break is over :< but i promise to keep writing whenever i can <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

“Baby, come lay with me.” You heard your boyfriend whine from the bed.

“Just a few more minutes, Rafey. I need to finish this essay, or I’ll lose my train of thought.” You replied without looking at him, eyes steady between your laptop screen and keyboard.

Rafe groaned, growing impatient after hearing you use the same excuse for the third time.

It had been over two hours since he laid on the bed and over two hours that you refused to join him. The past weeks have made you busy, considering you were a graduating student. There were deadlines here and there, you have experienced sleepless nights for the past few days, and coffee is probably the only liquid cursing through your veins.

Rafe knew it was coming and made sure to help in any way possible, but it doesn’t mean he was okay with it. He missed taking you out on dates and golfing sessions, but it has been almost a month since he was able to do so.

He came to your house a few hours ago and brought you snacks you felt incredibly grateful for. You welcomed and greeted him, then returned to your room to sit in front of your laptop.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll just finish this essay, and then we can cuddle, okay?” You offered to him softly, feeling bad that you’d ignored him.

Rafe, who has a stern exterior towards other people, is always soft towards you. His eyes softened upon hearing your offer, wanting nothing more than for you two to spend the night together.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

You flashed him a smile, your fingers desperately working to finish your essay.

Around half an hour later, you were typing out the last sentence for your draft. You inhaled deeply and stretched your back before shutting down the computer, deciding that you would just do your revisions in the morning.

“Finally.” You heard Rafe’s voice, making you chuckle, and excitedly made your way to the bed where your boyfriend was adorably tucked in the covers. “Hi, baby.”

You crawled in his arms, feeling extremely relaxed now that you were out of your stiff chair. “Hi, Rafey.”

“What do you want to do now?” He asked you sweetly, letting you decide depending on how you were feeling.

You thought momentarily, looking at the time and realizing it was almost midnight. Yet, surprisingly, you didn’t feel an ounce of sleepiness.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not sleepy yet. You?”

 “Nah. I’m not sleepy, too.” Rafe shook his head before an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to give you a massage?”

Without hesitation, you agreed, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, please. My back hurts so much.”

Rafe gave you a pitied look. “Aw, baby. I got you; go get ready.”

You positioned yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow where you can rest your head on. You sat up for a while to remove the thin sweater that hugged your torso. Your bra followed after you skillfully removed the clasps on your back. The amount of times that Rafe had seen you naked has made you shameless in making such gestures in front of him.

Meanwhile, Rafe watched your actions as he positioned himself behind you, hungrily eyeing your bare back before reminding himself that he was supposed to help you relax.

“Lay down on your stomach, pretty girl.” He spoke.

You did as he asked, sighing relief when your front side made contact with your sheets.

Knowing your room like the back of his hand, Rafe grabbed a bottle of lavender oil from your bedside drawer. He squeezed out a small amount, only enough to cover your back. Once satisfied, he warmed up the oil by rubbing it between his palms before putting it on your skin.

You let out a soft moan at the contact; the minty feeling from the oil and the feeling of your boyfriend’s large hands on your back made you instantly relax.

Rafe continued to give you a massage until his hands were dry from the oil, giving your back continuous strokes while you were on the verge of sleeping.

Little do you know, your breathy sighs have awakened something in Rafe.

He cleared his throat after several minutes, leaning down to check if you were sleeping. After seeing your opened eyes, Rafe relaxed and gave you a smile. “You feeling better?”

You mumbled a ‘yes,’ groaning as you slowly turned around on your back. “Thank you, Rafe.”

Rafe replied nothing, instead just lowering his face to yours in order to press a kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, making Rafe go crazy. He wanted nothing more than to go further but hesitated as he thought of your tired body.

Unexpectedly, you were the one who deepened the kiss, your hands subtly moving up to his hair.

“Baby…” Rafe gasped, pulling away slightly. “Are you not tired?”

“Not really.” You said honestly as you looked into his eyes. “Feels good, Rafe. Please.”

Your words were confirmation for Rafe, making him press his lips back to yours. You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.

“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, remembering the time that your parents almost fainted when they saw Rafe’s love marks on your neck and chest.

“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled.

Rafe’s attention was suddenly on your breasts. He already had easy access to them after you removed your top. You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.

“Rafe.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture, and you took the opportunity to start removing his shirt.

You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you focus on his shorts.

“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.

“It’s been a while.” You pouted.

“I know, sweetheart. We have a lot of time.” Rafe replied softly. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, baby. Let me take this off of you.”

You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the bed to allow Rafe to pull down your shorts and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed but paid no attention when you caught Rafe eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.

“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right-hand landing gently on your thigh.

“Rafe…” You whined lowly, feeling frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked innocently.

You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”

He smirked. Rafe loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.

Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit. You jolted forward; the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. ��Fuck.”

Rafe’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming more prominent at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.

“Fucking hell, Rafe. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.

He didn’t respond, pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.

“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb to your face. “Open.”

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck.” Rafe spoke, feeling his cock straining. “I was planning to go soft on you. But you seem more eager than I do.”

After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.

You watched as Rafe kneeled before you, his eyes on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.

“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught by your parents, do we?”

Without any warning, Rafe pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.

He slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”

You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.

“Yes, yes, Rafe…. Shit.”

He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting.

Rafe felt your legs shake, and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.

“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.

He gently shushed you, pushing himself up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll finish you right here.”

He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Rafe groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.

You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the sheets around you as you shook in pleasure. Rafe looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with lust and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.

“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”

“Rafe…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. The bed was creaking slowly, and you could only hope that your parents were currently deep in slumber.

The pleasure was overwhelming as Rafe focused on every part of you as much as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt.

“R-Rafe, I’m…”

“I know, baby. Cum with me. Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.

Your heart rate was increasing, and your body was shaking. But it was Rafe’s direct eye contact and sudden pinch on your clit that pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you released.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Rafe moaned at the sight, loving the feeling of your tight walls and warm release around his cock.

It wasn’t long until he pumped several more times before he gave in, releasing his juices inside of you with heavy breaths.

Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.

Rafe pulled out of you slowly, making you whine. He cooed at you, pressing kisses on both of your cheeks. “Are you feeling better, baby?”

Unable to form words because you were still catching your breath, you just grinned and nodded, your hand rising to cup and stroke his cheek.

“Let’s get you ready for bed now, sweetheart.”

The rest of the night, you didn’t break any sweat. Rafe took charge of changing your clothes and sheets, even giving you a quick bath to refresh you.

On times like these, you thank the heavens for giving you a boyfriend like Rafe Cameron.

[ms-snape]

I got you 😀 I hope i am not the only one who send you requests.

Daddy snape x daughter reader (maybe preschool age) He is home alone with her. Her mother/snape wife is somewhere out. She start asking quentions about her mom, how they met, how much they love eachother, how she was born etc. Sev is little bit confused and dont know how to response.

Title: The Magic Of being A parent

Warning: none just pure fluff, platonic relationship

Word count: 2000+

A/N: Sorry took me pretty long to write it, it's cause school just started for me and I was pretty busy lately, I spent half of the week end dowing homawordks and the other half writing this, so I hope u'll like it even though it's not so good in my opinion. <3

(y/d/n= your daughter's name)

Masterlist

--

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the grounds, its rays filtering through the tall, ancient trees. Inside the walls of the house , the air was pleasantly cool, a comforting contrast to the warmth outside. Severus Snape sat in the dimly lit living room, a tome of Potions theory splayed open on his lap. The only sound was the soft rustle of parchment as he turned a page, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly, a high-pitched giggle broke the silence, echoing off the stone walls.

“Daddy, can we play now?” A small figure bounded into the room, her dark hair bouncing with each enthusiastic step. Y/D/N, a bright-eyed five-year-old, was a bundle of energy, her small hands tugging at her father’s robes.

Severus looked up, his expression shifting from one of studious focus to mild bewilderment. “I suppose so,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the exuberance of his daughter.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands together, the sound ringing like tiny bells. “Can we play with the toys? The ones with the wizards and the dragons?”

He sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Very well. But keep the noise to a minimum. I have much to think about.”

“Okay!” She hopped onto the floor, her little feet padding against the cold stone as she raced to the toy chest. The lid creaked open with a loud crack, and Y/D/N began to rummage through the colorful assortment of magical figurines.

“What’s this one?” she asked, holding up a small dragon, its scales shimmering in the dim light. “Can it breathe fire?”

“Only in a child’s imagination,” Severus replied, watching as she cradled the toy against her chest, her eyes wide with wonder.

After a moment, she looked up, her expression shifting from playful to serious. “Daddy, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he muttered, preparing himself for the barrage of questions he knew would follow.

“Where’s Mommy?” Her voice was soft, tinged with a hint of confusion.

Severus paused, the question hanging in the air like a delicate spider’s web. “She went to a meeting,” he replied, his tone steady but his heart tightening at the thought of his wife being away.

“Is she coming back soon?” Y/D/N's brow furrowed as she tilted her head, her innocence shining through her concern.

“Yes, she will return shortly,” he assured her, though he could not help but feel the weight of his words. “You don't need to worry.”

Y/D/N nodded, but her curiosity was not so easily quelled. “How did you and Mommy meet?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the depth of her question. “Well, it was a long time ago…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “We met at Hogwarts, during our time as students.”

“Students?” She giggled again, the sound light and airy. “But you’re a teacher! Are you a student too?”

“Not anymore,” he clarified, trying to suppress a smirk at her logic. “I was a student long before you were born. Your mother was my classmate.”

“Did you like her then?” Y/D/N asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Severus shifted in his chair, the question stirring a mix of emotions within him. “At first, I did not regard her as anything more than a fellow student,” he admitted, recalling their early days in the Potions classroom. “But over time, I grew to admire her intelligence and strength.”

Y/D/N’s face lit up, her small fingers fiddling with the dragon toy. “Did you tell her? Did you say, ‘I like you' to mommy?” She giggled, the innocent suggestion causing Severus to chuckle softly.

“I was not as brave as you might think,” he replied, his tone laced with a hint of nostalgia. “It took me a considerable time before I found the courage to express my feelings.”

“Courage?” Y/D/N echoed, her brows knitting together as she struggled with the word. “What’s that mean?”

“It means the ability to do something that frightens you,” he explained, leaning forward slightly, intrigued by her earnestness. “Like when you stand up to mean people or try something new.”

Her eyes widened, a mixture of awe and determination. “So, was it scary to tell Mommy you liked her?”

“Very much so,” Severus admitted, recalling the nervousness that had gripped him that day. “But I was fortunate. She felt the same way.”

“Did you kiss?” Y/D/N’s voice was a whisper now, as if the very notion of such affection was sacred.

Severus felt a warmth in his chest at the thought. “Yes... Indeed, We shared a brief embrace. It was… memorable.”

“Memorable!” She squealed, bouncing on the tips of her toes. “Like when I'll got my first wand? Or When I'll go to Hogwarts? Will that be memorable too daddy?”

“Yes,Precisely,” he said, amused at her ability to draw connections. But then, she pivoted once more, her expression shifting to something more serious.

“Do you love Mommy?”

The question hung in the air, thick with the weight of sincerity. Severus’s heart softened as he considered his answer. “More than I can express,” he replied earnestly. “Love is not merely a word; it is a commitment, a promise to stand by one another.”

“Love is a promise?” Y/D/N asked, her eyes wide.

“Exactly,” he nodded, his tone firm. “A promise to support and care for one another, no matter the circumstances.”

She pondered this, her small fingers tracing the edges of the dragon toy. “So, if I make a promise to you, I have to keep it?”

“Yes, and it is important that you do,” Severus affirmed, appreciating her earnestness. “A promise is a bond that should not be broken.”

“Okay!” She beamed, her enthusiasm infectious. “I promise to help you with your potions! Even the stinky ones!”

Severus chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I appreciate your willingness, but I fear you may not enjoy some of the more pungent ingredients, you're too young dear.”

“But stinky potions are fun!” Y/D/N declared, her voice rising with excitement. “Like the one that makes you smell like a skunk! Can you make that one, Daddy?”

“I assure you, I have no desire to create such a potion,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile. “However, I can demonstrate a few simpler ones. Perhaps a calming draught? It would help you relax.”

“Calming draught?” Her brows knitted again. “What’s that?”

“A potion that can soothe anxious feelings,” he explained, enjoying the way her face lit up with interest. “It can help ease a troubled mind.”

“Like when I feel scared at night?” Y/D/N’s voice was small, and in her eyes, Severus saw a flicker of vulnerability.

“Exactly,” he said gently. “It can help you feel safe and secure.”

She nodded, her little brow furrowed in thought. “Can you make it for me, Daddy? So I won’t be scared?”

Severus felt a pang in his chest at the innocence of her request. “I can teach you how to brew it, if you like. It is quite simple, really.”

“Yay! I want to learn!” She jumped up, her excitement bubbling over. “Can we do it now? Please?”

He glanced at the tome still resting on his lap, the text blurring into the background as he watched his daughter. “Very well. Let us gather the ingredients.”

“Yay!” She clapped her hands again, her laughter ringing through the room like music.

As they prepared for their impromptu potions room, Severus found himself surprisingly at ease. Y/D/N’s energy was infectious; she darted around the kitchen, pulling out various jars and containers, her small hands working with a determination that reminded him of her mother.

“Do we need the shiny leaf?” she asked, holding up a jar filled with dried herbs, the sunlight catching the contents and casting little rainbows on the wall.

“Indeed, that is an essential ingredient,” he replied, stepping closer. “But be careful not to spill any.”

“I won’t!” She grinned, carefully measuring out a pinch with exaggerated concentration. “Like this?”

“Precisely,” Severus said, watching her with a mix of pride and amusement. It was moments like these that made the weight of his responsibilities feel lighter, moments that reminded him of the joy in family and the simple act of being together.

As the two of them worked side by side, Y/D/N began to chatter again, her curiosity unquenchable. “Daddy, how did you and Mommy get together? Was it like a fairy tale?”

“A fairy tale?” The notion made him chuckle. “Not quite. Our story is filled with its own challenges and struggles.”

“Like dragons?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Not exactly,” he corrected gently. “More like obstacles that we had to overcome together. But through it all, we found our way to one another.”

“Was it scary?” she pressed on, her small hands busy mixing the ingredients.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, reminiscing about the dark days during the first Wizarding War, when uncertainty hung over them like a storm cloud. “But love has a way of guiding us through even the most difficult of times.”

“Daddy, Do you think I can find love too?” Y/D/N asked suddenly, her expression earnest, as if the weight of the world rested on her small shoulders.

Severus paused, taken aback by the intensity of her question. “One day, when you are older, you will understand love in your own way,” he replied slowly. “But for now, focus on the love that surrounds you—like the love of family and friends.”

“Like the love from you and Mommy?” she beamed, her face lighting up at the thought.

“Yes,” he said simply, his heart swelling with affection. “And always remember that love takes time to grow.”

“Okay! I’ll wait!” Y/D/N declared, her enthusiasm unwavering. “But I still want to be a dragon when I grow up!”

“A dragon?” Severus feigned surprise, raising an eyebrow. “And how do you propose to achieve that?”

“By learning magic!” she exclaimed, her laughter infectious. “And maybe getting a shiny tail!”

“Ah, yes. A shiny tail would certainly be impressive,” he replied, allowing himself to get swept up in her imagination.

As the potion bubbled gently on the stove, the air filled with the warm, earthy scent of herbs, creating an atmosphere that was both comforting and familiar. Severus watched Y/D/N as she danced around the kitchen, her laughter echoing off the walls, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside ceased to exist.

“What’s your favorite thing about Mommy?” Y/D/N asked, her tone suddenly serious again.

Severus considered her question carefully, his mind drifting to the countless moments they had shared. “Her kindness,” he finally said. “She has a way of seeing the best in others, even when they cannot see it themselves.”

“Like you?” Y/D/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Daddy, you’re the best! I love you!”

His heart warmed at her declaration, and he felt a softness wash over him. “I love you too, my dear,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

“Can we make a potion for Mommy when she gets home?” Y/D/N asked, her excitement bubbling over once more.

“Of course,” Severus agreed, his heart swelling with affection. “We will create something special for her.”

“Yay! A surprise!” She clapped her hands, her giggles filling the room with joy.

As they finished brewing the calming draught, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of magic weaving through the air. The bond between father and daughter deepened, each shared laugh and every curious question drawing them closer together.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance hall. Y/D/N’s eyes widened, and she paused mid-giggle. “Is that Mommy?”

Severus nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “It seems she is back.”

“Yay! Let’s surprise her!” Y/D/N dashed toward the door, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody.

Severus followed at a more measured pace, allowing the warmth of the moment to envelop him. As Y/D/N flung open the door, her face lit up with joy.

“Mommy!” she squealed, launching herself into Y/N’s arms.

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with love as she enveloped their daughter in a warm embrace. “I missed you, sweetheart!”

Severus stood back, watching the scene unfold with a softness in his heart. The worries of the world outside faded into the background, eclipsed by the love radiating from his family.

“Did you have fun with Dad?” Y/N asked, her gaze turning to him.

“Yeah! We made potions! And I asked him about love!” Y/D/N exclaimed, her words tumbling over one another in excitement.

Severus raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what did you learn?”

“Daddy said that love is like a promise!” she declared, her voice ringing with certainty.

Y/N turned to Severus, her expression a mix of amusement and pride. “I see you’ve been busy,” she said, a smile dancing on her lips.

“Indeed,” Severus replied, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his voice. “It seems I have been outmatched by her boundless curiosity.”

Y/N chuckled, wrapping an arm around Y/D/N. “That’s the magic of being a parent,” she said warmly. “You never know what you’ll discover.”

As they settled into a cozy evening together, the air filled with laughter and stories, Severus felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In this moment, surrounded by his family, he understood that love was not just a promise; it was the very essence of their lives together.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows, Severus Snape knew that no matter the challenges they faced, their love would always guide them home.

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

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Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

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[firsttimewriter92]

Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Description: You´ve just moved in a couple of weeks ago, trying for a new start. A brief encounter with your neighbor gets your endorphins and imagination going. What is it about the mask?

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, a little pining

Word count: 1.917

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is my very first Simon Riley x reader fic. I´ve written about several characters of CoD but Ghost was always kind of an enigma to me. I never knew how to make him the love interest. But and idea popped into my head after reading some characterization that made it much easier to write for him. So here you go :) Let me know if a part 2 is something you´d be interested in.

“Jesus fucking Christ” you swore as you tried your best to push your heavy apartment door open and balance your bag and groceries through the door. It was a struggle to say the least, but you were damned if you did second trips. Grumbling through your teeth you saw no other possibility than setting down your bag, holding the door open with your foot and grabbing your groceries a little more securely. Bending your knee, you gave your door a forceful push and slid through into your small hallway. Foregoing taking off your shoes you made your way into your open kitchen and set the heavy paper bags down on your kitchen island.

A sigh escaped you and you took a moment just to stand in your kitchen and take in the chaos around you. Half emptied moving boxes were strewn all around your living room, amidst not yet hanging shelves, plastic plants and several DIY projects. Another sigh left your lungs with a huff. Moving and starting anew had seemed like your only option a couple of weeks ago but now you dreaded the silence. You wanted this, ___, you thought. It was your decision.

Your new job was everything you ever hoped for, and training turned out to be smooth sailing. You loved it, you loved your apartment, even though it was far from being finished yet. But still, what you´d left behind still lingered in the back of your brain all too clearly at times. Especially when your heavy door closed behind you every evening and there was nothing but you, your DIY projects, an occasional phone call with your parents and then silence. Silence to wallow in, rake your brain and memories. Memories not even a good Podcast or music were able to drown out.

You weren´t as close with your colleagues yet as to be invited out to the pub after work but that was to be expected. The chances were good though. Maybe just a couple of days more and you´d have at least some kind of social interaction. One step after the other, you reminded yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your own impatience with yourself was yet again trying to make you feel like you´d made a mistake by moving. A humorless laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. Calm down, you thought. This is your life, your pace. Relax.

A couple of minutes later your food was stored away, veggies and salmon steaming away and finally you sat down on your couch, glass of wine in hand and Netflix on your TV.

“Bloody hell” you cursed as a shot of adrenalin set your brain into overdrive. Your bag. You jumped off your couch and hurried over to the door. Swinging it open with a yank you initially thought someone had put out the lights in the corridor. All you saw was black and not a second later you collided with something solid.

Shaking your head, you realized three things. It was 7 o´clock on a warm day in July, so it couldn’t be dark out already. Your hallway had several windows and yes, the sun was still out. The black wall you just ran into turned out to be a massive chest.

Heat was ascending your neck as you took a small step back and lifted your head to look at the face this quite impressive physique belonged to. What the…?

Before you stood a man, several inches taller than you, frozen in place with his arm lifted as if he was just about to knock on your door. He looked down on you with impressive, hazel eyes. Honey blond, tousled hair adorned his head, falling slightly onto his forehead, wet tips clinging to his temples and a bead of sweat disappearing behind his ear. But that was about all you could make out.

Seeing people wearing a facemask had of course not been an unusual sight for the last three years but he wasn´t wearing one of those surgical ones. His nose, mouth and chin were covered in thick, black material, even spanning over his cheekbones and disappearing behind his ears. When your eyes caught his again you saw them narrowing just slightly and one blond eyebrow ticking upwards.

Something wriggly moved inside your belly.

The man slowly lowered his arm, simultaneously lifting the other slightly, holding out your bag.

“This yours?” a deep, calm voice broke through the silence and the wriggly something inside you spread out towards your chest, down your arms and into your fingertips. You swallowed, trying to gather your wits again.

“Uhm…yes. Yes, that´s mine. Forgot about it” you said with a nervous laugh as you took it from him. He hummed deep inside his chest in understanding. The sound only letting your eyes snap onto his again trying to decipher if the squinting was an annoyed one or an amused one.

Amused, as it turns out. He took a deep breath, the black material of his running shirt as you now realized it was, stretching across the expanse of his chest.

“You know, that´s how you get your identity stolen. Or at least your wallet.” Yeah, there was no question now, he was grinning behind his mask, his tone mildly rebuking but not at all belittling.

A small smirk of your own crawled onto your lips as you cocked out your hip and nodded your head.

“You´re absolutely right, Sir. I´ll cuff my bag to my wrist from now on so this inconvenience shall not occur to you a second time.” You want to be cocky, mister? Fine with me.

Your answer made him chuckle. It was short but genuine. One hand in his pocket he stepped back slightly and only now did you notice the heat that his body had emitted. With one last narrow of his eyes, making the edges crinkle ever so slightly he answered. “Not an inconvenience, Miss. Have a good evening.” He nodded once and walked away to your right.

“Y-you too” you cursed the way your words tumbled. To your surprise he halted in front of the door next to yours and your heart jumped into your throat as he took out his keys. Your eyes still fixed onto his side profile (you still couldn’t really make out any features), he gave you one last look before opening his door.

“And thank you” you rushed out.

He only lifted one hand to give you a small little wave that seemed way too juvenile for a man of his stature and closed his door.

Kind of shellshocked you turned around yourself and let your door fall shut behind you. Clutching onto your bag you didn’t even notice how long you were just standing in your hallway, trying to sort out the wriggling nerves. Who was that? Idiot. Your neighbor. Your neighbor that you´d never seen before. A man like him you´d remember seeing. There´d never been any noise from the apartment next to yours so you just thought it was either a very quiet tenant or one that only went there to sleep.

Sitting down on your couch again you stared at the wall behind your TV. He was behind that wall, doing…things. Existing. Why did that feel so exciting to you? Maybe it was just because that´d been your first real social interaction apart from talking to your colleagues?

Laughing incredulously at yourself you buried your burning face in your hands and giggled. No. No that wasn’t it and you knew it. It was stupid. So very stupid and weird and nerdy and…that damn mask!!

“Whhhyyyy…..?” you moaned grinning and rubbed your temples, finally letting all the pent up adrenalin and endorphins rush through your blood stream unstopped. What was it about men wearing those damn masks? Not being able to fully see their face. Having to find out what there was to them by just their actions.

The fist time you really thought you´d lost your mind was when you actually developed a burning crush on a literal tin can from the Star Wars universe. Oh yeah, sure. Give me a brooding, sarcastic, overworked loner with PTSD and give him a freaking child to protect. Watch him become a devoted, loving single parent. Of course! Yes, let me thirst after him. And did it stop there? Of course not. The pandemic hit and the lockdown had everyone in a chokehold.

The only chokehold you wanted to be in at the time however was one carried out by a video game character called Ghoul from “Call of Obligation”. Tatted up, burly, sharp, dutiful, loyal and fucking hot.

The only thing you were able to see of him? His eyes. Just his eyes and an occasional forearm here and there. Everything else covered in tactical gear and a scary facemask. God that character haunted your dreams almost every night. And now, you had his existing, breathing, heat emitting, real human equivalent living next to you. You felt your insides burn as another funny noise came from your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. Why was half a visible face or even less, so damn attractive to you?

“Shit must be some kind of kink” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your wine glass.

Why was he wearing that mask anyway? People weren´t obligated to wear one anymore. Was it some kind of training technique while running?

Anyhow, you appreciated the encounter. Your mood instantly better even though the both of you hadn’t talked much at all. He seemed witty. Cocky almost and you liked that.

Emptying your wine, you put the glass back in the dishwasher and walked over to your bathroom when you heard it. The shower in the next apartment was running. Immediately you halted all movement and tried to not even breath. The situation seemed so delicate, like thin glass ready to break. You stared at the wall when something else caught your ears.

No. Did you hear this right? Was he…?

You walked carefully over to your shower and stepped in. Trying not to care about how crazy you must look at this moment, you turned your head to the wall slightly, closed your eyes and listened as hard as you could. There it was.

Low, melodic and absolutely captivating. Over the sound of the water hitting the tile you heard your neighbor singing. Your forehead hit the tile and you breathed as quietly as possible, marveling in the baritone sweetness that could be heard through the wall. All too soon, about a minute later it was over. The water was shut off, the singing stopped.

As if in trance you got your nighttime routine going and a couple minutes later, slid into bed. Knowing where his bathroom was now, you were positive that his bedroom had to be next to yours as well. You tried to hear more, but nothing else penetrated the walls. It made you glad actually. If you would be able to hear him in his bedroom, sleep would turn out to be an impossibility to achieve.

This way, you closed your eyes, got comfortable and let your thoughts drift and wander. Not long after, you were dead asleep. Your dreams yet again haunted, but now, the usual scary mask of Ghoul was replaced with a solid black one and instead of clawing at a fully clothed head between your legs, your fingers tangled into soft honey blond curls.

_____________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

[theemporium]

Would you write jealous Charles? Jealous and possessive?? I liked your stories btw and I tried to keep it very vague because I want to see it from your side <3

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

Was the act one of love and admiration and a desire to show you that he wanted you to know how much he wants to intertwine your lives?

Of course it was.

Was it stemmed from said love and admiration?

Absolutely not.

If he was anyone else, he would’ve found the situation funny. And maybe, deep down, he would one day. But right now, right at this moment, Charles Leclerc found the situation he was currently in anything but funny.

You were everything he could’ve asked for and more. You loved him like nobody had ever loved him before. You cared for him in a way that he had only ever dreamt of. You supported him through thick and thin, through the good and the bad. You were his other half, his soulmate, his everything.

He simply wanted to return the favour.

Little did he realise that what you had failed to mention was that one of your co-workers was almost as obsessed with you as he was.

In your defence, you didn’t even realise the man’s advances. You had Charles, you had the perfect life and a job you adored, so why would you have noticed how extra friendly your colleague was being?

But Charles noticed and he was pissed. 

It had been a simple work dinner at some fancy restaurant amongst the streets of Monaco. You had dolled up in a dress Charles had spoiled you with a few weeks ago, and the boy had been itching to have his hands all over you the second you slipped it on. But he was respectful, he didn’t want to get in the way of your work and he was happy to play arm candy for the night.

He had slipped away to use the bathroom for a few moments and when he was coming back, he noticed that someone had taken his space beside you—better yet, a man had taken his place and he looked far too comfortable in that spot.

His arm was laid across the back of your chair and he was leaning a little too close every time he spoke. He was looking at you the way only Charles was meant to look at you.

And he fucking hated it.

It was a petty move, he knew it was a petty move and maybe you’d scold him for it later. But right now, he didn’t care as he sauntered towards the table you were sat, ignoring the other eyes on him as he walked up straight to you, tilting your head back and kissing you far too passionately than one would kiss someone in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

You heard someone clear their throat but the hand on the back of your head prevented you from pulling away. Instead, you sunk into your boyfriend’s kisses and let out a wistful sigh when he finally pulled away.

“You look gorgeous, cherie,” he murmured with a grin, wiping away your slightly smudged lipstick with the edge of his thumb. “My pretty girl.”

You flushed under his compliment. “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason to love my girlfriend?” He retorted with a shrug before glancing at his now empty seat. He resisted the urge to smirk. “Oh, what a shame. Your friend is gone.”

You recognised his tone instantly and narrowed your eyes. “Charles.”

“Yes, amour?”

But the expression on his face was one of innocence and you knew that as long as you were in public, he wouldn’t tell you a thing.

As it would turn out, the conversation would return a few days later when Charles walked into your shared apartment, a gift in hand as he approached you at your desk.

It was a small chain, dainty and cute just how you liked your jewellery. But what caught your eyes was the number sixteen engraved into the charm.

You raised your brows.

But Charles simply grinned. “It’s a precaution.”

You snorted. “For what?”

“When men ask you what it means,” Charles replied, leaning down to kiss you before he continued. “You can tell them it’s your future husband’s number.”

“Future husband, huh?”

“Future husband,” he confirmed with a nod as his fingers traced over the necklace that you would wear around your neck for the rest of your life. “And make sure to tell that bastard Tony first.”

“His name was Tommy.”

“That’s what I said, cherie.”

.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℝ𝕠𝕓𝕠-ℝ𝕦𝕚 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @sucodelaranja86 request: UHI DONT KNOW IF ITS STILL OPEN BUT IF YES

Rui who gives a mini robo-rui for his s/o 🙏

(yes i am still obsessed with that)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DW I GOT YOUUU

I swear I loved writing it >w< Hopefully you'll like it a bit too!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

Rui has been acting really weird recently... sure, he is a little special snowflake naturally which you loved about him, but he's been even weirder than he usually is!

Because why is he so persistant on coming into his room first and panickly runs around whenever you visit him? And one day you even caught him putting some planket over... something... you have no idea what that is, since you never got clear look at it. But you were sure of one thing... he was hiding something.

Tho one day, you finally caught something more...

It started by him casually running into his room before you even get closer to the door and covering something with the blanket, fixing it by the time you entered, as if making sure you won't be able to see anything.

"What are you hiding there?"

"I told you before, you'll get to know that soon enough!"

"You said the same thing week ago..."

"It's simply... not ready yet."

You just sighed and made yourself comfy on his couch. Whatever was under that blanket cleaerly still on your mind, as you tried to figure out what it could be by looking at whatever was inside.

"Fufu~ Don't think about it too much..."

"Why's there 2 yellow lights?"

"Huh-?"

Looking back at the blanket, he noticed 2 gold lights that were still visible through materials... and he knows he got himself a problem right here, since he has to turn it off before it overheats... but you're also here...

"Darling... may I ask you to... turn around?"

He scratched the back of his neck, a bit nervous and embarrassed he had to ask you to do something like that just because of his mistake.

"Oh no, I'm getting to know what it is. It's about time after what... 3 weeks?"

"2 and a half..."

Boy sighed to himself, letting his hands drop to his side. His eyes looking for any sign of cooperation from you, yet your crossed arms were a clear sign to him... you weren't about to back away...

"Alright... just... please keep in mind I'm not sure about it yet..."

"It's okey!"

You reassured already excited to see what he was hiding for so long!

Once he lifted the blanket, you saw... Robo-Rui? It looks like it... it's similiar to Robo-Nene from the s tyle it's built, but it looks like Rui instead of looking like Nene...

"Is this..."

"Heh~ You said so many times you'd love a Robo-Me... and since our anniversary is coming up... I thought you may like it..."

He was clearly flustered now. As if not sure if you'll thank him or call him a weirdo for what he did.

"Seriously?! I love it!!"

But luckily for him, your eyes were already sparkling with happines once you saw the robot and heard why he made it! Giving him a big reassuring hug, which he gladly took and let his arms relax.

"Hm~ Well... would you like to see few options? I can't let you take it since it's 99% safe, and... I'd prefer to not risk with that 1%..."

"Oh asbolutely! I'll gladly see whatever you have to show me!"

"Well, my dear... you already saw the lights, which I planned to be a little source of light for you at all times or even to scare off some people when you put it in the dark~"

"Haha~ Of course you had that idea..."

"Can you blame me? But! There's also like... 12 other functions of which 10 are ready, and today, I'll be showing you... 6!"

He was clearly not a lot calmer as he explained and showed you few functions of the Robo-Rui, not wanting to show you all, so you'd still have some stuff to discover on your own when he finally gives it to you!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @bl4cktourmaline @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stories13 @alicewinterway18 @hakulivesformusic @wabatle @sucodelaranja86 - come get your crazy inventor~

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Malice's Stain (Imprisoning War)

I set out to write one thing, stumbled onto something I had written weeks ago, and was inspired, so have some post-war PLOT for y'all! >:D I feel like this can be read even if you have no idea what's going on, but whatevs, read as you please. <3

X

The smell of autumn was in the air.

Crickets chirped, a symphony of oncoming coolness and stillness, a song of farewell to the warm, moist summer nights filled with twinkling fireflies that replaced the stars. The sky sparkled, gracing the land with a preview of the splendors a cold winter night sky could provide. Flames burned quietly from torches, casting shadows taller than the castle’s turrets.

Link stared blankly out at the courtyard from the balcony.

He knew this feeling. Or lack of it, really. It took every ounce of energy to just breathe. Here he stood, permanently planted in this spot, not tolerating moving but not wanting to stay still. His mind was filled with cotton, half-thoughts trying to formulate sentences and failing to even convey anything beyond a dull ache, a shadow of what should have been an emotion.

This was becoming a problem, but he was far beyond the point of caring at the moment.

There were a million stressors on his mind, yet none truly seemed to stress him out. It was just another thing to be done, another item to obtain, another person to look out for. Day in and out, watch the children, watch the military’s progress in training new recruits, watch the Sheikah scientists continue to come up with new creations and make new breakthroughs.

Smile, say a few words, rinse, repeat. Go to bed, never fall asleep, get up, do it again.

He gave up even trying to go to bed tonight. He’d tolerated his son’s presence today. Tolerated it. What sort of father tolerates his children?

Link felt a twinge of something pull at his chest. His lips trembled. He leaned heavily on the balcony railing, sagging as if the weight of all the stars in the sky were bearing down on him.

There was a low rumble, a voice that practically growled as it chuckled. “So this is the fate of the Hero of Hyrule, then. You’re just as pathetic as I figured you to be.”

Link stiffened a moment at the voice, at the way his body physically reacted and wanted to scream and claw at the man. But no. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t be real. He’d sealed Ganondorf away years ago. Besides, last night Link had seen the Gerudo general he’d murdered when he was sixteen; he’d figured, after a week without sleep, he’d probably start seeing things. He’d gotten close to this level of exhaustion during the war, and he remembered he and Hemisi had nearly lost their minds.

It didn’t make it any more tolerable, though.

Link didn’t dignify the hallucination with a response.

“I’m grateful you didn’t marry my daughter,” Ganondorf continued, pacing the length of the balcony behind Link like a predator stalking its prey. “You would have ruined her.”

It stung, for a moment. Then Link almost laughed. “The only one who ruined her was you.”

“Imagine if I had won,” Ganondorf continued, either oblivious to his words or ignoring him. Could a hallucination ignore its creator? “Imagine the different state of things.”

“Hyrule would have burned,” Link snapped, glaring at him.

“Would it?” Ganondorf questioned. “Is it not burning slowly now, withering away as its nobles poison it from the inside out?”

“Zelda is working to fix that,” Link argued.

“Ah, yes. Zelda.” Ganondorf spat out the name like it was a curse. “How Nayru ever favored such a dim-witted child is beyond me.”

Link reached for a weapon before remembering he wasn’t armed. “You are the only fool I had the displeasure of knowing. Thinking you could control everything and in the end all you did was destroy it. Tell me, when you first came up with the plan to steal the Triforce, was murdering your entire family part of it or just a side quest for fun? You stood tall and proud like some king but you were nothing more than a clown, lapping at power like the pathetic boar that you were!”

“And yet here you stand,” Ganondorf hissed, motioning towards him. “The man with all the power in the world, and you are completely helpless.”

The fight drained out of Link, and he felt his face grow cold and pale. Rage filled him and exited just as quickly as he had no rebuttal.

Pathetic.

…He wasn’t wrong. Link was pathetic. He was weak and he knew it.

Years ago, he’d tried to end it in an act of desperation and fear, wanting to escape his imprisonment and avoid becoming a monster that he thought he was turning into.

Had he succeeded in avoiding such a fate? Was he not a monster?

He supposed he wasn’t. He was no Ganondorf. But… he was pathetic. Despite all his attempts to be otherwise, here he stood, arguing with thin air and unable to win.

“You were supposed to be the pride of the Sheikah,” he heard beside him, and he turned to see Lady Impa looking at him disappointedly. “Yet all you do is wallow in self-pity. Our duty is to the royal family, and you can’t even do that.”

“You’re no Hero,” Ganondorf sneered. “Heroes are powerful.”

“Heroes are selfless,” Impa added, walking up to stand beside the ghostly Gerudo man.

“How could anyone love such a wretch?” Ganondorf finally said.

“I don’t need your love or approval,” Link spat, though the fire had mostly drained out of him. It was less of a rebuke and more of a plea, a petition to himself to believe it.

He was over this conversation. He turned sharply, growing dizzy, staring down at the ground so, so far below.

Softer footsteps came next, lighter feet than the thundering steps of the monster he’d faced years ago but not as purposefully quiet as his chief. He caught sight of red hair in his periphery, and he saw Hemisi watching him, bubble ponytail over her shoulder, amber eyes reflecting the firelight.

Link bit back an exhausted sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. He should’ve known she’d inevitably appear in this insanity. He really should try to get some sleep. Would Zelda appear next? Or would his mind turn images of his own children against him?

Honestly, he probably deserved that more than anything.

“You look like shit,” Hemisi commented, an echo of her remark when they’d seen each other for the first time since Sonia’s baby shower. He recalled the incident fondly and forlornly, an event that probably should have never happened. But that had been years ago.

He wasn’t sure it was worth indulging this hallucination as well, and had very little energy to do so, but if he ignored it things would probably just get more out of control. “I haven’t slept in a week.”

“Why?”

Hell if he knew. He’d tried. He used to sleep too much. Now, suddenly, his body decided he just shouldn’t sleep at all. He’d had sleepless nights before, but never for such a long stretch. He felt like he was about to burst out of his own skin. He wasn’t entirely sure why any of this was happening.

“What’s wrong, Link?”

Her voice was so gentle. It made him want to scream.

But what was wrong? He had episodes where he felt down or unmotivated, but he hadn’t felt this insane since Sonia’s birth. His daughter was eight years old now!

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

Hemisi snorted. “I’d say so. You haven’t slept in a week.”

He supposed that was a silly remark to make, given the circumstances. But he really couldn’t fathom what was causing this.

Link smelled lavender all of a sudden, and he turned, noticing that Hemisi had vanished, and only saw a silhouette in the entrance to the balcony. The curls that haloed their head, as well as the mildly heavier build from childbearing gave away the person’s identity, her lavender soap carried in the chilly breeze.

“Zelda?” he asked hesitantly, wondering if this was somehow a more vivid hallucination or if the queen really was there.

The silhouette stepped out of the castle entirely and into the open air, and the torches cast their light on her. Zelda watched him, hands rising to hug her bare arms as she shivered a little.

She was responding to the environment. She had to be real.

“Link,” she said softly, green eyes roaming the area. “Who were you talking to?”

Great. The queen overhearing her husband steadily losing his sanity was the last thing he needed right now. He felt irritation sting, pulsing angrily behind his eyes with his ever-growing headache.

“Myself,” he answered truthfully. “Long night. Do you need something, Your Majesty?”

Zelda hesitated, noting, “Are you not cold? It’s getting chilly out here.”

Link glanced down at his attire. He was still wearing his summer clothes, the bright red tunic laced with golden embroidery overlayed by the dark forest green cloth that draped over his left shoulder and across his chest, cinched at the waist with a brown decorative belt made of leather and beads. There was no need to wear trousers in the summer for nobles in formalwear, something Link had never really enjoyed, but he’d adopted the dress as he was expected, wearing sandals with it. At least the tunic went to his knees. Nevertheless, Zelda was right – he was underdressed for the weather, but… he’d chosen to wear his summer attire as it had been warmer in the day and he’d wanted the nighttime cold to slap some semblance of clarity into his foggy mind.

The hallucinations did not seem to be indicating that it was working. The way he only just noticed he was shivering didn’t help, either.

Deflecting, he jutted his chin towards her briefly, his earrings jingling in the breeze with the movement. “And you?”

She was, after all, in her own warmer weather clothes, a sleeveless ocean blue knee-length simple dress overlapped with a milky white overdress that crossed over her chest, shoulder to opposite hip, before encircling her legs, more in the back than the front. She had a thicker belt with cloth bearing the symbol of the Triforce resting over the area the overdress left exposed. Her curly brown hair was pulled out of her face, though styled in its usual half-up/half-down manner, so at least her neck was likely somewhat warm. He could vaguely make out goosebumps over her light skin, despite her hands covering her upper arms and the bright blue skin paint that decorated her from upper arms to wrists.

“I’m freezing,” she admitted. “Come inside, Link.”

Did she actually need something? It was strange for her to seek him out this late. They certainly weren’t on as bad terms as they used to be at the start of their rocky marriage, but given her actions over Sonia’s training, Link had distanced himself and their son from her. He hadn’t wanted Orik dragged into her scheming like his sister had been. It had left their relationship… cool, to say the least.

Sighing, he complied. There was nothing left to do at this point, and he didn’t have the energy to argue further. His eye roamed the balcony, scanning for any more hallucinations, but his mind seemed to be having some mercy on him; the demon king, Link’s chief, and his former love were all gone.

His fingers stopped stinging from the cold as he followed the queen indoors, though the air was still fairly chilly. Zelda didn’t speak, instead wrapping an arm around him and guiding him along. He glanced at her, almost wanting to ask what this was about, but not caring enough to do so. With the minor alarm of haunting images of his past disappearing, he’d grown numb to the world once more.

Goddess, he just wanted to sleep.

The couple eventually wound up at the door leading to Zelda’s chambers. Link glanced at her again, wondering if she wanted what he thought she did. They hadn’t been physically intimate in years—early in their marriage it had been a push between the two, Zelda needing an heir and Link needing a release from everything, but as they had matured and had two children and steadily avoided each other, neither really wanted to instigate anything all that often.

So why did she want it now?

Zelda opened the door, guiding Link inside, and then sighed, releasing him and heading towards the roaring fire. Link looked around, feeling out of place, and honestly just wanted to leave. He watched the queen a moment longer, watched as she took off her belt and outer dress before grabbing a robe and bundling herself up.

“Come to bed,” she said. It wasn’t quite an order—he was very familiar with what those sounded like—but it still seemed firmer than a request.

Link sighed again. Debated the matter for a moment, growing annoyed at being stuck here, but quickly acquiesced, giving up on the matter. The bed was unbelievably soft and warm, yet simultaneously too hard and cold, his back hurting, hair on his body rising in anxiety, muscles aching, mind still unable to focus.

He… wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this awful. Had he felt this bad during the war, perhaps?

Maybe the night before Hemisi and I fought Ganondorf, he mused. But back then, he and Hemisi, despite how nervous they’d been, had also had each other. There had been a little comfort in that, in the promise of a future after everything, in the hope that the world wouldn’t end the next day as Ganondorf held Zelda and the capital hostage.

He was far over the bitterness of how everything had unraveled between him and the new chief of the Gerudo, but his heart still hurt thinking about the war, about a time when he knew what hope felt like. And he wanted to smack himself for it. His children brought him hope and joy.

Well. They had. Until whatever the hell this funk was had started poisoning him.

He had episodes like these, but they’d never been this awful. Nor this agonizing. He’d be exhausted, paralyzed, but it would last maybe a day or two, a brief spell before Lady Impa would track him down and help him, or his children would find a way to fetch him (he still was too scared to let them know where his room was, terrified of what he’d do if they startled him awake—his reactions weren’t as severe as they’d been, but he still worried).

Zelda slowly got in bed as well, watching him a moment. She no longer hid her expression, worry clear on her face, and it made Link feel like he was under scrutiny.

She was trying to be nice. That’s what this was. Perhaps she did need something, but not now. But he knew she could be kind as well, and that seemed to be her only motivation. He knew that. So why did he feel like a caged animal?

Link waited. Time passed. The fire died. Zelda fell asleep. He was still wide awake.

A whisper behind him made him turn sharply, though he tried to be quiet for his wife’s sake. He caught sight of a silhouette, and alarm made his eyes widen as he slinked out of bed, looking desperately for a weapon.

The person vanished.

Link wanted to scream. He couldn’t stay in here. If these hallucinations got worse, he could hurt Zelda. So he made his way back outside, hoping the cold would slap some sense into him.

He never made it to the balcony, though. Something else caught his eye. It sparkled in the night, like an ember from a torch, but it was darker.

The crispness of the early spring air froze over as if winter had come anew, and Link felt like the wind itself punched the air right out of his lungs. It was unnatural, like he was being squeezed, like something was crawling inside his skin and tearing him apart. His head pounded, and the world darkened, surrounded in purplish burgundy energy, like blood and poison mixing together in a sickening magic that could only be produced by someone who had let evil stain them to their very soul.

Ganondorf disappeared as he screamed, encased in the dark essence, and Link clutched Hemisi more firmly. She was still limp in his arms, having taken the brunt of the lightning attack he’d sent their way, able to redirect it before it could kill all three of them.

When the vicious tornado of malice dispersed from the center of the dark storm, a massive beast stood before them, and Link felt as if his heart stopped. It roared ferociously, and he rose to its threatening call, drawing his blade once more, surprised to see it glowing bright blue. Behind him, Zelda cast a spell of some sort, and Link could see the borders of the dark storm held in place by a golden light, the same barrier she’d used to protect herself in the castle.

The real fight had begun.

Link felt his blood freeze.

No. No.

It was a single spark, and he’d been hallucinating. Nothing was wrong. Ganondorf had been dead for years now, soul split viciously into four to prevent the demon he’d sold himself to, the demon he’d become, from ever returning. The cycle was broken. It was over.

Paranoia overrode reason in his mind. There was no way everything they’d done, everything he’d sacrificed, had been in vain.

Link moved quickly, foggy head gone, filled instead with frantic thoughts, one overlaying the other, choking him as he hyperventilated, barely able to make it to the stairs as his vision started to blur, as his fingers tingled and grew numb. He pulled a torch off the wall, nearly falling down the next flight, and tried to slow himself down, tried to tell himself this was just another hallucination.

“Is it, though, boy?”

Link whirled, seeing nothing, but that voice had been clear, as if he—

He shook his head. You just saw him on the balcony. It’s not real. You know that.

Yes, yes. Yes. It… it wasn’t real. None of this was real.

Yet there it was again. A dark spark, a piece of that awful, hellish storm that had eaten away at Ganondorf’s flesh, that had tried to consume all of them. The reveal of the true evil, the physical manifestation of how far the former Gerudo king had fallen, the…

The day Hemisi’s father had died. The day the man Link had viewed as a father had…

Link bit his tongue. Focus! You haven’t viewed him as a father since he captured you during the war!

It was beyond infuriating that such thoughts still lingered, but he blamed it on being sleep deprived. He had to think!

Link took a steadying breath, and he continued descending into the depths.

Hyrule Castle was a large and formidable fortress. It had been rebuilt and fortified after the damage from the war, after that final fight when Ganondorf had taken the capital. During the reconstruction, they’d created an inner sanctum in the lower levels, accessible only by the most trusted Sheikah and the royal family themselves.

Zelda had been trying for years to learn how to access the Sacred Realm so they could properly hide and protect the Triforce. Link knew little of her research, but he did know it existed. He was no sage, and his magic was practical, not fantastical. He had no way of knowing how to access such a world, and had left such sacred matters to her. In the meantime, though, it was heavily guarded in a vault near the Temple of Time, returned to its holy resting place from which it had been stolen years prior. But the inner sanctum…

Ganondorf’s soul had been split into four pieces. Three had disappeared into the sky, vanishing beyond anything they could find, no matter how many scouts they’d sent, no matter how the Sheikah had torn Hyrule apart to find it. Zelda had theorized they’d moved into a different realm entirely, as the Triforce could of course do such a thing. But one piece…

One piece had remained.

The Master Sword, a sacred blade constructed by the goddess, refined by her divine Hero, was specifically designed to seal away evil. And it held a piece of what Link had killed that day.

After what felt like an eternity, the king consort finally reached his destination. Two Sheikah flanked the entrance, noticing his approach, and knelt. He passed through the door without delay, walking through a room with false entrances to misguide anyone who might get this far.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

Link jumped, startled, turning to see Hemisi watching him.

Goddesses, not now, he grumbled, returning his attention to the doors.

“Link, you really do look awful,” Hemisi noted. “You need to sleep.”

“I know,” he snapped, still trying to focus on finding the right door. He knew which one it was, dammit, he just couldn’t think straight!

He heard a young man’s voice next, still somewhat tenor in youth, almost unfamiliar as it had been so long, but it made him freeze up.

“Stop trying to convince him, Hemisi, he’s too stubborn,” Merovar, Hemisi’s long dead brother, grumbled from Link’s other side. The hero turned, looking at the teenager, but despite how alive Merovar looked, all Link could see was the broken body on the battlefield, the bleeding stab wound, all he could hear was Hemisi screaming—

Link squeezed his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face, pushing on his temples, begging Hylia for help.

He heard a whisper, the same one from the queen’s bedroom, so, so distant but somehow so much more visceral than either hallucination. It was deep, rumbling, but too far away to be discernible. The Gerudo royal twins grew silent, disappearing from the room, and Link thanked the goddesses over and over as he finally found the door he needed, rushing to it and opening it.

The air froze, stealing Link’s breath away. His left arm lowered, torch nearly falling out of his numb grip.

The inner sanctum was a large, stone room, four corners posted with guardians affixed in place, large heads swiveling constantly to seek out threats. Their usually blue and amber lighting was flashing purplish red as they all focused on the center of the room, though there was no true target to fire at yet.

Yet.

Malice swam in the air, peeling off the Master Sword like smoke from a flame. The blade sat on an altar in the center, surrounded by a light blue barrier of Sheikah technology and magic, the eye of his people still glowing brightly to ensure the seal.

“Link.”

The torch dropped entirely, and Link scrambled back towards the door, terrified, breath coming out in rasps. No, no, NO!

The fear at hearing Ganondorf’s whisper faded though, morphing into rage. That monster would not return, would never return, and he would die before he let him hurt his children, his queen, or his kingdom!

The seal was still holding, but he wasn’t sure if it would continue to do so. He had to find a way to figure out why the sword wasn’t enough, why that piece of Ganondorf’s soul was seeping out like blood from a wound. Had the sword weakened?

He needed Ze—

“Link!”

Gasping, Link turned sharply, finally losing his balance entirely in his exhausted state. Zelda leapt forward to try and catch him, hands scrabbling for his tunic to help ease him to the ground. He reached for her desperately, gripping her shoulders, breathless, speechless—

He refused to be helpless. He refused.

“The seal,” he rasped. “We have to repair the seal!”

Zelda’s expression grew frantic as she looked up, examining every inch of the room. Link couldn’t fathom why she didn’t just look at the sword itself, but—

The world spun and then grew unnervingly, disturbingly still. Link held his breath until his vision grew hazy around the edges. The queen’s green eyes examined everything at least five times before she slowly looked back at her husband. When Link saw the concern, the anxiety, but a lack of overwhelming dread, he slowly glanced around the room as well.

The sword was dormant. The guardians were swiveling their heads as usual, a reassuring scrape of metal, blue eyes passive.

Had… had it all been…?

“I’d been having strange dreams,” Zelda said quietly, kneeling down to be at eye level with him. “A strange, impending dread. I thought… perhaps one of the nobles were going to try something. But… Link, I think my dreams are about you.”

Link swallowed, but he could only scrape the back of his throat, dry as it was. “M-me…? You… you think I’m the threat?”

The queen slowly moved her hands from his tunic to his face. “No, Link. No. I… I think you need to rest.”

You’re becoming a threat.

But he… he could’ve sworn—!

What if you’d broken the seal in your panic?

Oh, goddess. Oh, goddess.

He heard footsteps behind the queen, and Impa came into view. The look on her face mirrored the nervous energy she’d had as she’d taken care of him all those years ago, when he’d tried to take his life.

“I—I swear, I—” Link tried to argue, but found his voice failing him, and suddenly, just like that, he was helpless again.

Weak. Pathetic. The words spat in his mind through Ganondorf’s own voice, and he whirled to look at the sword once more.

Nothing.

“Link,” Impa called gently, hand warm on his tense, shivering back. “Come on. We’ll get you something to drink to help you sleep.”

Was he… really…?

Link shivered, curling in on himself, feeling more humiliated and useless than he had in a very long time. The two women flanked him, gently holding him.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out brokenly.

“It’s okay,” Impa assured gently, oh so gently, that same soft tone she’d used so many years ago.

“We’re going to help you,” Zelda affirmed, her own tone softer than he was used to.

Slowly, Link let them help him stand. He took one last look at the room, at how peaceful it was, and felt like he was going to be sick.

Why did something still feel wrong? Was it just him?

The three made their way back up the countless stairs. The queen let out a small sigh – despite the worry she had for her husband, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat reassured that there wasn’t something else going on. She’d never had visions that pertained to Link, though, and it was frankly a little terrifying that he’d gotten this bad. The chief of the Sheikah watched her boy worriedly, wondering if he’d been on the brink of something far worse, remembering how bad he’d gotten when he was eighteen, terrified that he could’ve almost broken the seal himself without even realizing it. The king consort felt miserable and petrified in his own right, wondering if he should even be allowed anywhere, ignoring how his cheek stung over his old scar he’d gotten from Ganondorf.

But it didn’t matter what the three thought. Plans were in motion. A former ruler sat in the dungeons, awaiting his triumphant return. And farther in the depths than the former King of Hyrule, the inner sanctum remained spotless.

Except for one little spark.

[darlingsfandom]

Hi, can you please please write about y/n being closer to Cillian's age and used to date him before Cillian became famous. So they drifted apart and now almost 10 years later Cillian is married to someone else (Preferably an actress for this shot) but one day met y/n (she is married too now btw) and now they both can't stop thinking about each other? Then you can think the rest ig.... like illicit affair or something like that....

Btw I love your writing! I always look forward to reading them <3

I sure can!

TW: cheating, p in v unwrapped , not proofread.

They always say that when two people are destined to be together that will always find their way back to each other and in this case it was true.

Twelve years ago you had said goodbye to Cillian because things weren’t working out the way the two of you had planned and it broke your heart to let him go but you didn’t want to be selfish. He had promised to find you again someday. Days turned weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years and you never found him again. You had to move on no matter how hard it was. Eventually you found a man who was a big time producer on the set of a movie you stared in and the rest was history.

Now in the present day you’ve done some guest starring on tv shows while your husband worked on some big hit movies!

“Babe! You’re not going to believe who we got to co-Star with you in the new movie.” Your husband was excited as a kid on Christmas.

“Who’s going to be my leading man?” You laughed a little as he bounced on his feet.

“We got Cillian Murphy !” His smile went big as your heart broke in half. It was written on your face. “I thought you’d be a little more excited! Yes a huge star! Just did Oppenheimer !”

“No no I’m excited just hard to believe.” You waved your hand trying to dismiss your hard feelings. Your husband never knew that you had once been with Cillian many moons ago and now was not the time to mention it.

“Maybe it will excite you more that his wife is going to be in the movie as well! Just a small role but still!” Your heart sank even further. You knew he was married and married another actress who had similar features to you but now it was on your home , it was too close for comfort but you swallowed that bitter pill to make your husband happy.

The morning came to start shooting and all you wanted to do was hide. You sat in your trailer wrapped in a blanket sulking in your pity. A small knock came on your trailer door.

“Go away!” You yelled but the door opened away. You rolled your eyes. “I said go…” your words froze up as you seen him standing there. Cillian was two feet away from you with his hand in his pocket looking at you.

“I did that a long time ago…” he spoke up making you stand up and fight back your tears. Neither of you said a word but he could feel the sadness radiating off of you. “And don’t think I regret it.”

“I left because you wanted different things than I did. You got to go and become the star that you’ve always wanted. Everyone adores you! You got older and more attractive ! Meanwhile my own husband adores you more than he does me!” Your eyes swelled up as you turned your hands into fist.

“I took this role because it meant for the first time in twelve years that I’d be with you again! The script was poorly written, the plot makes no sense well some of it does but still ! I took it to see you again!” Cillian stepped closer to you making you step back until your back was against the wall.

“What about your wife hmm?”

“The blood sucking gold digger who can only do butter commercials and begged me to beg the producer who happens to be your husband to be in it? You think I’m happy with her now? No! I’m not!”

“Then why’d you marry her?”

“Because she looks like you! She’s a cheap version of you!” Cillian cupped your face and made you look in his eyes. He had genuine emotion swirling around in the them and you wanted to kiss him so much it ached but you couldn’t. You pressed your face into the side of his neck while he tightly wrapped his arms around your back. He smelled of leather and sandalwood which you inhaled deeply while he drew circles on your back with his thumbs. This was home, this was comfort and safety , this is what your life was missing.

“After this movie I want you to run away with me! We can go anywhere we want! Just us.” He spoke in a way that made you look up at him with soft eyes.

“I can’t just leave my husband … well actually I could, bastards been cheating on me for the last few months.”

“Then why are you still with him?” Cillian furrowed his eyebrows together. “You’re a smart girl, you don’t deserve a man like that.”

A knock on the door made you jump. Neither of you were doing anything wrong.

“Are you two ready? We’re ready to start shooting.” Came from the other side and he grabbed your hand to take you to the set. It was just the beginning.

Four months of filming had passed and each day Cillian and you grew closer. It was as if he never broke your heart to begin with. Some nights it was just you and him running lines together while other nights he reminded you how good he was in bed.

“This is wrong!” You huffed as he bent you the dressing room table and shoved his cock deep inside of you.

“Ya love it ya fucking slut!” Cillian made you look in the mirror as he started thrusting into you.

“Fuck yes Cillian! Give it to me!” You spat through gritted teeth. Cillian watched you in the mirror as he fucked you hard in the dressing room while getting ready to shoot the next scene which ironically enough was a sex scene.

“That’s my girl , fuck!” He held onto you tightly. This was just a quickie to get the two of you through the day. It wasn’t unusual for a quickie to happen on set or in a trailer because now that the two of you were rejoined it was hard to separate you two. Your husband never questioned all the closeness because he didn’t really care, he was doing his own cheating but he didn’t think you were. As far as Cillians wife knew the two of you had nothing going on. She was busy using the casting couch to try to get another role somewhere but her luck wasn’t that good.

Six months had now passed and filming was wrapping up. Press tour had started which meant hotel rooms, lots of questions and soon enough your divorce looming around the corner.

“Cillian?” You peeped up as the two of you laid in bed together naked.

“Yes darlin?” He ran his hand over your arm.

“Do you still really want to run away with me?” You turned on your side.

“Of course I do! I’ve lost you once, I’m not going to do that again. Plus… I should’ve told you this awhile ago but have you noticed that I’m not wearing my ring anymore?” He held up his hand and it was indeed empty.

“What did you do with it?”

“I gave it back to her, she yelled , broke a few things around the house and that was after I gave her the papers.”

“You’re already getting divorced !” You shot up quickly holding the blanket over your naked breasts.

“Baby, I’m already divorced. When we rekindled the first day of shooting I went out and got things into motion. Why do you think she hasn’t been on the press tour?” Cillian looked up at you with loving eyes as his hands ran over your thigh.

A silence fell over the room as the two of you cuddled back up and shared a kiss that quickly got heated. His hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled them over his lap to help you straddle his lap.

“Need you now!” You mumbled against his lips. Cillian lifted your hips a little bit so he could adjust his cock and help you down on it.

“Fuck! Yer so warm baby.” Cillian moaned as you pushed back on his cock. You place your hands on his warm bare chest to steady yourself and rode his cock slowly. The way you moved your hips was hypnotic to him. You rode him in a way he’s never had and he loved it. It wasn’t long before your hormones took over and made you excited.

“Oh fuck yeah! Dats my girl!” He gasped out as you started bouncing on his cock faster which made your tits giggle and he was in love all over again. He always admired your tits and they’ve only gotten better with your age. He watched how your mouth hung open letting out the cutest moans he’s ever heard as you bounced yourself harder on his cock making you cry out.

“I’m gonna cum Cillian ! Fuck!” You reached down to rub your clit as best as you could while slowing down on his cock but he didn’t care. He loved the view of you touching yourself.

“Cum on baby! Cum for me be a good girl! OH! That’s a good girl! Yes cum on my cock!” He encouraged as you squirted against his cock soaking him and the sheets. You shook hard before collapsing against his chest. “Shh it’s okay baby, I got ya.” He kissed your forehead gently as you panted against his chest.

This was what you’ve missed , what you needed all these years of just accepting what you thought you deserved but time was finally on your side and lead you back to the person you loved the most.

[mitigaters]

For @jesperandwylansittinginnatree :))) Exy Junkies plug at the end <3

“I’m telling you Andrew, this place is fucking haunted.”

Andrew was trying to ignore Kevin, he really was, but it was the fourth time that week he had said it. Kevin wasn’t a ‘believe in the paranormal’ type person so Andrew was growing more and more inclined to believe him. Kevin ignored the fact that Andrew was ignoring him and continued. 

“This is, without a doubt, one hundred percent, not the goddamn protein shake that I made. I do not drink the chocolate, it tastes like strawberry and you know how I feel about strawberry-” And god, did Andrew know, Kevin hated nothing more in life than strawberry flavored anything. He was an absolute nuisance about it. He said it was the main reason he liked men: they didn’t smell like strawberries. Apparently women did. “-and there were seeds at the bottom of my goddamn blender.”

“Maybe you got a shit supply of powder.”

Kevin glared at him. “It is powder, Andrew, I would have noticed if there were tiny black devil seeds in it.”

Andrew snorted and grabbed the blender to wash it. Sure enough, there were strawberry seeds inside. Weird. 

“So you jump straight to…haunted?” Andrew wiggled his fingers at Kevin for dramatic effect. 

“Yes for that reason and others.”

Andrew nodded, remembering Kevin’s other ‘experiences’. “Ah yes, the writing on the mirror after you shower, the changing of songs on your Spotify when you’re working out in my living room, the way you always manage to lose the controller in a four second span of changing the channel. All these things say to me is that you are at my house way too goddamn much. Also, if you’re using the Vitamix then you clean the Vitamix.” Said Vitamix being one of the first reasons Kevin started visiting. 

Kevin started grumbling about Andrew having better water pressure and a better air conditioner despite them having the same water pressure and the same central air. Andrew, again, ignored him. Kevin got quiet for a moment and Andrew knew exactly where his thoughts were going. He had known Kevin long enough to foresee it.

“It’s nearly Halloween.”

Andrew hummed in response. “I’m aware.”

“Are you- are you…I mean, do you-”

“Spit it out, Day.”

“Whatareyougoingtodothisyear?” A jumble of words fell from Kevin’s mouth, the embodiment of anxiety when it cmae to breaching certain topics with Andrew. Despite their long and tumultuous friendship, there was one thing Kevin knew as a fact: Andrew Minyard loathed Halloween. He was the type of teenager to kick pumpkins that he saw on the sidewalk.

Andrew avoided stores the entire month of October (except he enjoyed the day after Halloween when all that candy went on sale). He skipped social media, work, all of it- he couldn’t be bothered. His reasoning was nonexistent, it was just a holiday that he despised. Kevin stopped asking why years ago.

Andrew shrugged one shoulder, closing himself off to any further comment on the discussion. “Get out of my apartment, I’m going to bed.”

Kevin squinted at Andrew. “It’s 11am.”

“And my sentence still rings true.” 

Kevin huffed, grabbed his smoothie, left the dirty dishes for Andrew, and retreated back to his own apartment. Andrew ignored the sink that was now half full because Kevin measured out all of his ingredients in individual ramekins that he bought for Andrew claiming they were for him despite Kevin being the only one to ever use them. 

He stared at the ceiling as he laid in his bed and let his mind wander about Kevin’s implications. The signs were there, though Kevin paid attention and Andrew ignored them, as was his dominant personality trait: avoidance. As his eyes started to close, however, he heard stomping above his head which was odd considering he lived on the top floor. His complex consisted of him, Kevin, and 25 other old people so the odds of one of them being on the roof was slim. Andrew went up there frequently to smoke and had not once seen another soul up there.

He closed his eyes again. More stomping. He decided that was as good a time as any for a smoke break and rolled off of his bed.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

There was someone on the roof. Andrew could only see his back as he stood facing toward the city. Andrew felt like he was being pulled toward an edge that he didn’t go near due to his acrophobia. And yet…

“Are you going to kill yourself?”

The other man’s flinch was full body. He turned to peek over his shoulder and the color of his eyes almost shocked Andrew. Almost. 

“Me?”

Andrew squinted at him. He waved his hand around to indicate the lack of any other people on the rooftop. “Obviously.”

“You can - you’re-” 

“Can you at least do it elsewhere, you’re going to lower my property value.”

The redhead snorted. “You owe one of these shitholes?”

Andrew shook his head and tapped a cigarette out of his pack. “No. I do not own one of these shitholes. Do you own one of these shitholes?”

He rolled his eyes. “No.” He glanced at the cigarette hanging from Andrew’s mouth. “Can I have one?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Nah,” He turned back toward the skyline. “I don’t smoke.”

Andrew lit his cigarette and stayed far away from the edge of the building though he couldn’t stray his eyes from the redhead teetering dangerously close to the edge. It was only another few minutes before Andrew said something about it.

“Can you maybe get the fuck away from there?”

He turned again, his eyes somehow bluer than the first time. “From the ledge?” He laugh, slow and soft. “Why? Nothing can hurt me, 6A.”

Andrew stared at him for a moment, realizing the nickname was his apartment number. He realized he has seen that red hair before hanging around his floor. “Asphalt hurts. Looks like it hurt you already.” Andrew tapped his cheek.

Ginger snorted. “Nah, that was a cigarette lighter. Asphalt burns are on my ass though..” 

Andrew scoffed and blew smoke toward him, the curls of off-white disappearing with the wind. “Who did you let get that close to your face with a cigarette lighter?” 

“I didn’t let her do shit,” His response was sharp. “Why?” But not as sharp as the grin he showed Andrew. “Does it make me ugly or something?”

“Nah.” Andrew shrugged. “I’d still blow you.”

His face changed instantly though Andrew didn’t know the other man well enough to know whether it was surprise or disgust. His face was so goddamn pretty that Andrew hoped it was the former. He blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought of someone in that way since…well, a decade. The softness was gone after a short moment, however, and he cooled his expression.

“Oh.”

Andrew let out a soft huff of air and dropped his cigarette butt to the ground to stomp it out. He turned on his heel and went back to his apartment, sure that the pretty ginger haired boy on the roof was not going to cause a crime scene on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Kevin was talking to the older woman that lived across the hall from Andrew in what Andrew called one of her weekly therapy sessions. She wasn’t a therapist, not anymore anyway, but she brought out a side of Andrew that nobody else had before and she knew far too much about him. They had hot chocolate sessions once every other week that could go hours and hours. 

Kevin liked to overshare which was how he and the woman, Bee, had initially met. Kevin was blabbing, which Andrew would typically ignore, but Bee mentioned something that he found interesting. 

“Oh, yes, I agree. There’s certainly something going on in this building. I thought it was just my memory as I was getting older-”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Andrew interrupted, a frown pulling at the edge of his mouth. 

She waved his anxiety down. “Everything is fine, Andrew, I was telling Kevin here about the randomly appearing money.”

“The…” Andrew paused and glanced at Kevin who was paying far too much attention to Bee’s story. “Randomly appearing…money.”

Bee nodded. “Couch cushions, empty grocery bags under my sink, stuffed in hot chocolate boxes- money!”

“Money?” Was Andrew’s dry and confused reply.

“Money,  always a 50 dollar bill, never more, never less.” Bee explained.

Kevin was frowning but Andrew was…perplexed. If it was a ghost, it was a nice ghost? But bothered Kevin? He supposed it was still a nice ghost in that regard because Kevin was annoying and his presence wasn’t always wanted-

“Why do I get disgusting smoothies and you get money?”

Bee and Andrew both laughed at his expense, though Andrew’s amusement was internal. Bee patted him on the shoulder reassuringly and Kevin smiled, despite it all.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

“Andrew, have you seen my shoes?” Came Kevin’s greeting from Andrew’s front door.

Andrew stifled a sigh from where he sat in the middle of his couch, halfway through a pint of chocolate ice cream. He pointed upward and Kevin groaned. Andrew continued staring at his nearly empty ice cream container and he frowned at it. He didn’t recall eating that much. Kevin was yapping again so Andrew looked up with a glare.

“Would you shut the fuck up?”

Kevin ignored him. He was getting far too good at that. “Do you know how I know this was a ghost?” Kevin didn’t wait for an answer that wasn’t coming. “You are 5 foot nothing. There’s no plausible way that you would be able to reach this.”

“I have a step stool.” Andrew admitted, if only to prove Kevin wrong.

“You do not.”

Andrew jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. “Between the fridge and the wall.” Kevin checked and sure enough, he had a stepstool. Kevin glared at it as if chucking it out of the window would make his beliefs any less accurate. 

Andrew rolled his eyes. Now his ice cream was gone. Maybe there was a ghost. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Andrew saw him again, hanging outside of Bee’s unit. He had originally thought he lived there until he discovered it was in fact Bee that lived there. Bee didn’t seem to pay any mind to him. He even brought him up to Kevin but Kevin claimed to have not seen him before, though he barely saw Andrew most days due to his lack of peripheral vision.

At their fourth meeting, Andrew was starting to notice odd things about the ginger who lived somewhere in his building. He didn’t blink. Andrew thought he was crazy at first but the next time they were on the roof together, not conversing at all, Andrew studied him. He didn’t blink. Ever. Andrew had an eidetic memory, not quite photographic, but enough to be able to notice that that red-haired boy never blinked. He was far too jittery for Andrew to notice if he was even breathing or not but Adnrew assumed since he was alive, he would have to be breathing. Then again, the fact that it was reminiscent of Bella Swan in that one scene in that one movie that Andrew had not seen four times, was suspicious.

“Staring.” Andrew commented, not admitting that he was doing the same.

“Takes a starer to know a starer.” 

“Did that sound good in your head?” Andrew questioned, stubbing out his cigarette.

“It did. Did it sound good coming out of my mouth?” Ginger asked with a snarky grin.

“It did.” Andrew responded without missing a beat. “What’s your name?”

“Neil.”

“Aren’t you going to ask mine?”

Neil shook his head, turning back to stare at the skyline. “I’d rather you tell it to me freely.” 

That shocked Andrew. Andrew didn’t get shocked. “It’s Andrew.”

Neil side-eyed him. “That wasn’t me asking.”

“Maybe not, but it was me telling.”

Neil let out a sigh breath and nodded slowly. “Cool.”

Andrew glared at him for a moment then left the roof. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

“How are you settling in?”

“I’ve been here for 9 months, Nicky.” Andrew responded dryly.

“Still!” Nicky insisted on the other end of the phone. “Have you met anybody who catches your eye?”

Andrew knew what Nicky was really asking and rolled his eyes. The fact that Neil came to his mind immediately pissed him off but he found his mind wandering regardless. He rubbed his eyes roughly and realized Nicky was answer whatever question he just asked. 

“I don’t think so, why do you ask?”

“What?”

“I said, ‘why do you ask?’” Andrew repeated.

“Why do I ask what?”

“Nicky, for fucks sake.”

“Oh,” Nicky paused. “You were serious. You asked if I knew a blue eye red haired demon that seemed to live in your building. And I said I don’t. Why do you ask?” Then Nicky also caught up to the conversation and realized what he had asked Andrew to get that response. “Wait! Is that who you have a crush o-”

Andrew ended the call.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Neil was on the roof again that evening. He gave Andrew a small smile as he approached, something he had been doing. 

“What unit do you live in?”

Neil blinked at him. “9F.”

“There’s a 9? And an F?”

“Yup.”

Andrew wasn’t sure that was true but he refrained from pushing it. “Have any interest in a movie marathon?”

“A movie marathon.”

“Horror movies.”

“A horror movie marathon.” 

“If you just repeat everything I say, I’m going to rescind the invite.” Andrew stated, staring at Neil.

“Now?” Andrew nodded. Neil gazed out at the skyline for another moment before looking back at him. “Okay.” 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

They’re 3 movies in when Andrew realizes Neil isn’t breathing. There’s no way. He seemed to have relaxed during the movie and forgot to be pretending to be human. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. He also hasn’t touched the popcorn or used the bathroom once. A zombie? No, he hadn’t made a move for Andrew’s brains. Vampire? Nope, he had seen him in the sun several times. Werewolf was possible, there wasn’t a full moon that week but Neil was pretty short for a werewolf. Plus, a red haired werewolf? Unlikely. 

“Staring.” 

Andrew blinked at him. “What?”

Neil side-eyed him. “You’re staring at me. Why?”

Andrew turned to the TV and popped a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “I’m watching this movie.”

“Name it.” Neil deadpanned.

Andrew chewed thoughtfully. He had no fucking clue what they were watching it was…Night of the Living Something or The Hunted Something or Something- “Fuck off.” Neil snorted, turning his attention back to the movie. Andrew push the popcorn toward him, experimentally.

“Allergic.”

Andrew was staring at him again. “To what? Corn?”

“Butter.”

“There’s no butter on it.” Andrew stated, pushing the bowl closer.

“Salt.” Neil said instead.

“You’re allergic to salt.” Andrew deadpanned.

“Yup.”

“You could just say no.”

Neil turned to look at him as if the notion was out of this world. “Oh. Well then, no.”

Andrew took the bowl back.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Andrew’s suspicions only heightened after that as Neil became more and more comfortable in his presence. He was walking into the building one evening when he spotted Neil on the roof. Andrew gave him a two-fingered salute in greeting and Neil grinned sharply at him. Andrew stepped into the foyer and pressed the button on the elevator.

The elevator opened and Neil was standing there.

Andrew stayed still for a moment but eventually stepped into the elevator. They didn’t speak as the elevator climbed floors, Andrew watched the numbers change. When they arrived at his floor, he turned to Neil and invited him over. Neil accepted, as he had been lately.

“You’re not human, are you?”

Neil stopped in his tracks from where he was headed to sit on Andrew’s couch and turned toward him. “What?”

“What are you?”

Neil laughed, his eyes shifting. He tried to play it off but he was clearly looking for an exit. Andrew would let him run, if he needed to, but Neil stayed put, his body relaxing.

“I’m-” Neil hesitated, looking around once more. He sighed. “I’m a ghost.”

“I fucking knew it.”

Neil blinked at him. “What?” Neil stared at Andrew as he listed off all of the reasons why he didn’t believe that Neil was human. “Oh. Shit you noticed all that?”

“Yes.” Andrew responded simply through narrowed eyes. “But you can sit on my couch? How can you do that?”

Neil shrugged. “I can manifest some semblance of what I guess could be called powers the closer we get to Halloween, otherwise I usually just sit on the roof.”

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, but ever since you moved in here, on Halloween I’m able to be human. Well, I guess not human per se, but…my skin is warm.” Neil commented as he studied his own scarred fingers.

“What happens if you touch me right now?” Andrew couldn’t help but ask.

“Are you asking me to?” A nod. Neil blinked at him, slowly, watching him. Andrew’s eyes were brighter than usual, maybe with excitement. “Um. Okay. It’s gonna be weird though.” Neil stepped in front of Andrew and Andrew felt absolutely no presence from him. 

Neil held out a hand for Andrew to take, letting him initiate the contact (or lack thereof). Andrew reached his own hand out and placed in on top of Neil’s. He could feel….something. There was definitely something there.

Neil’s eyes widened. “What is that?”

“You tell me, Casper.” Andrew muttered back. He raised his hand slightly but he only felt a coldness as his hand passed through Neil’s.

Neil brought his hand back to his face and stared at it, rubbing his fingers together. “Weird.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Why do you start manifesting some semblance of powers near Halloween?”

Neil stared at him. “Because…it’s… Halloween… Is that really surprising?”

“Halloween fucking sucks.”

“Wrong opinion but okay. I draw energy from full moons as well, that’s when you usually see me. Or when I usually see you.” Neil said, his tone lowering a bit.

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. “How many times have you seen me?”

Neil stared at the ceiling. “A few.”

“Liar.”

“A lot.”

“Exactly.”

“27 times. I’ve seen you 27 times.” Neil said with a huff. 

“That’s pretty stalker-like to know that.” Andrew points out, satire lacing his tone, but he changes the subject swiftly. “How’d you die?”

The look that passed through Neil’s face was only there for a second. Any other person wouldn’t have noticed it, but Andrew did. Neil turns to the side but Andrew waits patiently. It was a silent four minutes before Neil spoke.

“My dad caught up to me.” Andrew hums in response, knowing all too well the trauma of an abusive family. Neil continues. “He was the Butcher.” Andrew eyed him for a moment before the name registered, dumped somewhere in the back of his memories. 

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Do I have to-”

Andrew scoffs at the implication. “You don’t have to do anything, Neil. You didn’t have to even tell me-” 

“I know, I know,” Neil cuts Andrew off with a stern expression. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. End of story.”

“End of story.” Andrew murmurs.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

The next time they see each other, after Neil needing a trauma dumping related break from Andrew, is on Halloween. The clock strikes midnight and Halloween has begun. Neil knocks on Andrew door (pounds on his door because Andrew is asleep because again, midnight).

Andrew yanks the door open with a disgruntled, “What the fuck,” and Neil is to gleefully cheerful at Andrew’s bedhead to pay attention to his nasty mood. He pushes past Andrew and into his living room. 

“Happy Halloween, fucker!” Neil is dressed up, like an idiot but still dressed up, as who Andrew assumes is supposed to be Ron Weasley. Either that or Ed Sheeran, Andrew truly isn’t sure. 

Andrew turns slowly, very slowly, to scowl at Neil. Then he blinks. Blinks again. Blinks one more time. “Come here.”

Neil steps toward Andrew, their shoes inches from touching at the tip. “Yes, Andrew?”

“Happy Halloween.” Andrew murmurs as he hold a hand out in invitation. Neil takes it. He…takes it. “Holy shit.”

Neil shrugs as Andrew’s fingers glide over his hand. “It happens once every other month. I guess I’ve just never had someone to show it off to. Cool, huh?”

Andrew immediately withdraws his hand to flick Neil in the forehead. In his warm forehead. Neil winces and rubs the reddening spot where a lightning symbol is drawn which only confuses Andrew further.

“Ow, you fucker! What was that for?”

“Holy shit.” Andrew repeats. “You’re real.”

“I am today.” Neil murmurs, eyeing Andrew. “Stop making it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You a- dude. Fuck off. Wanna watch a movie?” Neil suggests, already on his way to Andrew’s couch.

“Fine. Asshole.” Andrew relents easily and falls onto the couch next to Neil, knowing full well he will be fast asleep in 30 minutes or less. "Also... are you supposed to be Ron Weasley?"

Neil huffs and crosses his arms. "I'm Harry Potter."

"You're really not." Andrew points out. "That is specifically Ron's wand, complete with the tape after it was broken by the Whomping Willow."

"What the fuck is a Whomping Willow?" Neil mutters, still in denial that he has all the pieces of a Ron Weasley costume. "This is Harry Potter, isn't it?" He scowls as he lifts the fringe on his forehead to show the scar that appears to have been drawn with eyeliner. 

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Andrew asks. Neil hesitates and Andrew has his answer. "You haven't even read Harry Potter, have you?"

"I thought it was a movie." Neil says, scratching his false scar. One would think that someone with so many actual scars would draw a fake one better.

"You haven't even watched it?!"

Neil points at his face. "Ghost, remember? I don't really have a choice of what I consume."

Andrew makes a face. "Wait, how old are you?" Before Neil can answer, to his increasing dismay, there’s another knock on his door. “Kill me now.”

“I can, ya know. I have hands now.” Neil says as he stands to, for whatever reason, answer Andrew’s door. “Kevin is here.”

Kevin stares down at the pint sized redhead answering Andrew’s door. “Who in the fuck.”

Neil walks away, leaving the door open, and plops down next to Andrew who does not look up at him as he introduces Neil the Friendly Ghost. 

Kevin narrows his eyes for a moment but enters Andrew apartment anyway. “Whatever. Are you going to Nicky’s party tonight?”

“No.” Neil answers. 

Kevin gapes at him. “I was not talking to you.”

“Weird.” Neil responds as he flips through the selection of horror movies. “Could’ve sworn you were.”

“Why would I be talking to you?” Kevin asks as he settles onto the couch, much to Andrew’s dismay.

“That’s kind of rude. You come into Andrew’s house as a guest and you don’t address his other guest? I guess i assumed you were a better person than that.” Neil clicks on something that he knows Kevin has been scared of before (due to his previous ghost-like snooping).

“For the love of God, change this. Now.” Kevin says, pressing himself back into the cushions as Andrew snorts from his burrito corner.

“I shall absolutely not do that, but I will take your suggestion into consideration for future impromptu movie nights at Andrew’s apartment.” Neil responds, kicking his feet onto Andrew’s coffee table. He is immediately jabbed in the thigh for it and he lowers them and chuckles at a quiet ‘holy shit’ he hears from Andrew.

“I don’t think I like you.” Kevin states, reaching for the remote.

Neil moves it out of his way. “I don’t think I like you either, You know what’s better than you? Strawberries. God, I love strawberries. Andrew, do you have any strawberries?”

Kevin turns to him slowly. “Andrew, who in the fuck is the abomination sitting on my spot on the couch?” 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Kevin.” Neil says as he tosses a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “I love popcorn so much.”

Andrew side eyes him. “You can eat?”

“Yes, Andrew, I can eat.” Neil responds as he takes another mouthful.

“Why wouldn’t he be able to eat? Is he a ghost or something?” Kevin asks with an eyeroll.

Neil and Andrew share a long look that Kevin either does not see or completely ignores (it’s the latter). The movie was scary, Kevin screamed four times, Andrew fell asleep, and Neil enjoyed three entire bowls of popcorn.

[renren-006]

Lost Love Series/ Part 1- Atlanta-Virginia

Negan x fem reader

plot: reader and negan were together before the world ended, but after it did they got separated. what happens when they find each-other again? (the first part is just establishing where the reader is, not much mention of negan yet! will be maybe a 2/3 part story)

A/N: hey hey! for this story i am just on a Jeffry dean morgan kick and wanted to write something longer for him! hope you enjoy and leave some comments for ideas and requests are still open for anyone wanting to leave one!

warnings: violence,

Word count: 1140

other parts: Part 2: Heart Strings

You met Rick and his group in Atlanta. You had become friends with Beth when she joined you at the Hospital before she died. Yourself and Noah were at first unsure of the new group welcoming you in. You felt bad for them, having lost the young girl with such fire in her eyes. You loved Beth and you had cared for her, and Noah, while you were all at the Hospital. How you ended up getting the courage to leave and to watch the man, Daryl, carry her body out of the building, you didn't know. You stumbled after them, hopeless and tired. You had lost many people over the years of this apocalyptic world, but this loss stung your heart. You knew what it was like to love and lose people, you had lost your husband right when the world had ended, or at least you assumed he was dead after these 2ish years of never seeing him. 

The group meandered their way out of the city. Those next few weeks were a blur. You lost Noah soon after Beth when they found his home had been overrun, and not too long after that another one of Beth's friends had died. Three people in the matter of weeks had been swept away in front of your eyes. You had seen so much death that the essence of losing was something you were used too. 

The long road ahead of them stretched for miles, and miles. You were tired and so were your companions. Your company was not unnoticed by them and they knew they could never abandon you or leave you because you were all alive and together for a reason. The priest was the only one to try and talk to you, seeing as the rest of the group were more than fine never speaking to him. You took his company with grace and tried your best to talk with him.

“You’ve been wearing a ring since we met you” he said, glancing down at the emerald diamond on your finger. He had given that to you five years ago, of those three years you spent with him before the world ended two years ago. 

“My husband gave it to me” you told him, he glanced up at me. 

“You look young,” he said. 

“I guess I am.” you told the priest. 

“Where is he now?” he asked, you froze my face reading my uncertainty.

“I don't know” The conversation lulled after that.

*

You sat across from Negan at the dinner place the two of you went too. You had been out of college for a decent amount of time now while Negan was a few years older than you. You were in your late twenties while he was in his late thirties. You met him a few years ago, two to be exact, at your favorite bar. You two hit it off and he worried for a while that his age and how he was a bit older than you would scare you off, it didn't. Now that you had been with him for almost 2 and a half years the lines of age and life blurred and you just cared about being with him. The dinner was nice, soft jazz music filled the restaurant and the quiet talking of others there lulled the atmosphere that you almost didn't notice him bring out the ring. It was a shock to you but you felt instantly happy after seeing what he brought out. 

“Y/N will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” Negan asked, the restaurant filled with happy people turning towards your table. 

“Oh my god! Yes! Yes absolutely!” you told him, launching  from your chair to hug him in the middle of the restaurant. That day was one of the happiest for you, besides your small little wedding the two of you had. It was your parents and your friends gathered in a small courtroom a few months later to officially make you man and wife. Neither of you wanted something big and neither were very religious, so a small court wedding was. The engagement ring of a simple small band with little gems was soon joined by your emerald cut diamond one that smarkled in the sunlight. You wore that ring every day and he wore his band and never once took it off, more than happy to have you and it by his side. 

*

The topic of him never arose again and you knew the others had heard the conversation, given the looks you received from Sasha and Maggie. They both looked as if they wanted to know more, ask about my life before the world ended and before you had met them. You lingered alongside Sasha for a bit, she gave me a questionable look, You okay? I looked up at the gray clouded skies, something was brewing. You nodded back at Sasha solemnly, I'm fine. She nodded her head understanding not wanting to talk anymore about the loss. 

Everything that happened before was just motions, you just went through motions of surviving, but now, now was different. It was really the things you experienced and there were people my age that had also gone through hard times and lost many. You didn't have any room to complain about my losses when everyone had their own experiences with the living dead, and the dead that haunt. 

Surviving that night after the rain poured down on us became our next mission. With the storm it brought a horde of walkers towards the barn we were held up in. The doors had to be held shut by us that night, struggling to hold them with everyone's bodies against each other, the feeling of spirits breaking as we did. When the doors didn't need to be held anymore and everyone collapsed from the exhaustion you curled up on the floor and slept soundly from the exhaustion. 

You woke the next morning to the sun sparkling on your face from the splits in the boarded wall. You sat up, looking around at the others awake and asleep. The day flew by fast for you, the storm's mess and the new man leading you towards his home, you didn't know where the night before and the day's end started or ended. You were at a loss as to what had happened the past couple of weeks, like the rest of them you were going through the motions of surviving. Once you arrived at this new home a twinge in your hard pounded. Something was different about this place about Verginia, something that felt like home. You looked around the area outside the gates, no familiar scents, places or people, but still your heart pounded like it was a new, foreign place.

[harryforvogue]

hmmm i’m a harry and miriam girl so i’m gonna say them but literally write whoever you feel like i’ll eat it up either way

okay GREAT so this blurb is about harry being really freaked out because he accidentally said yes to going on a date with someone and miriam's response being nothing like what he assumed it would be <3

***

Miriam looks the opposite of how Harry feels right now. Her long hair is in two braids hanging behind her back, and they fly when she opens the door to her apartment and launches herself at him, arms around his shoulders. She’s chosen dark mascara and lime green eyeliner today to pair with her cropped green sweater, blue jeans, white socks, and green and white butterfly clips in her hair. 

Harry holds her tight to him. So tight without realizing that her giggles turn to labored breaths.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, pulling back when she gasps.

Despite her flushed face, Miriam grins, sticking her hands into her back pockets. “Come in!”

He enters. Takes his shoes off. Then his coat.  Harry lasts only half a minute before he blurts, “I did something bad. Really, really bad. I messed up.”

Miriam looks back at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, do you wanna tell me what it is before or after you kiss me?”

He swallows. “Um. I’ll kiss you first. Don't know if you’ll want to be near me after I tell you what happened.”

And if Miriam is even an ounce worried about what the news could be, she doesn’t show it. Her eyes only widen and she’s in his arms again. She steps onto his feet to kiss him, partially to make him laugh, and partially because she’s too short to reach him without it.

He kisses her nervously, holding her face in her palms. She smiles into the kiss, fluttering her long eyelashes against the bridge of his nose. When he pulls away, she’s still grinning, her lip gloss having transferred onto his mouth. Miriam gently wipes it away. She smells so sweet, a mix of floral and vanilla driving him wild.

“I was making something,” she says. She grabs his hand and starts to lead him to her kitchen. “You bake more than me so tell me what I’m doing wrong, okay?”

“I don’t think stress baking counts as real baking.”

“Hey, that apple crumble thing you made two weeks ago was amazing.”

“It made such a mess.”

“It was meant to do that.”

Harry grips her hand tightly and gently yanks her back. “We have to talk, Mira.”

She blinks up at him. “Okay.” She waits for him to say more, but his eyes have unfocused, teeth biting down on his lower lip anxiously.

Miriam begins leading him again, but this time to the counter. She hoists herself onto there, and Harry stands before her. He immediately puts his hands on her waist, keeping her still. Now, the only way for Miriam to leave would be if Harry were to move out of the way. That’s good. Harry’s in charge.

“Tell me what it is,” she says, gently running her fingers through his hair. She starts from his forehead, carefully parting his curtains back until they fall back against his brow. “What’s bothering you?”

Harry’s eyes refocus back onto hers. He looks so heartbreakingly tired, she finally feels a pang of worry about what he wants to say to her.

“I made a mistake. In my head I was only trying to be nice. But then I wasn’t trying to be nice. And then I tried to make it up and now I think I’ve dug the hole deeper.” His green eyes are filled with regret. “Don’t break up with me, please.”

Miriam gives him a small nod. “I won’t. Just start from the beginning, okay?”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay.” He takes a deep breath. Miriam parts her knees and Harry walks closer, leaning against the counter. “A new person started earlier this week. She worked at a different company that had some lay offs so my director took her on. And he also told me to train her. Which–” he gives her a look, “was already bad. I don’t like training people.”

“Yeah, baby, I know.”

“And because she’s worked in the industry before she obviously knows what’s going on. It took me just a day to get her up to speed with the building and offices, but she’s been stuck with me for this whole week because technically all she’s been told to do is train with me.”

“Right.”

He takes a deep breath. “She asked me out.”

Miriam bites down on her inner cheek to conceal her smile. “Oh no.”

“Yeah.” His expression is grave. 

“And you said yes.”

“Well. No.” Harry blushes with embarrassment. “Not initially. One of my coworkers overheard her asking me out for coffee and, because I immediately thought she asked me, like, in a not friends way, I said no. Said I was busy. I freaked out. And, fuck, I know I should have said that I had a girlfriend and that I was very much not interested, but my mind blanked. You have every right to be mad at me about that. I deserve it. It should have been the first thing I said.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She smooths his hair back again. 

He’s looking panicked now. “And my coworker who was nearby was like ‘Harry, she’s new. You can’t be like that to her. She clearly just wants to get to know the people she’s going to be working with’ and you know I’ve been trying to make some new friends so the next time she asked me, I said yes.”

Miriam’s lips twitch. “You said yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers, covering his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. I’m the worst. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“So this isn’t really a date, right?” Miriam shuffles closer. “Because your coworker said she’s just trying to get to know people.”

Harry’s voice is muffled. “Well, no. I think it’s a date because she asked me out for dinner specifically.”

“Oh. She changed her mind about the coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

He peeks up at her. “You’re upset.”

Miriam says, “No, baby, I’m not upset. I am a little concerned about her asking a second time even though you said no the first time.”

“I just think that I wasn’t very clear that my no was a straight up rejection and not an “I’m actually busy’ excuse. Maybe I should have been more firm. But this was my first impression too, you know? And her first impression of the company so I didn’t want to make it seem like–” he breaks off, frustrated. “I know it’s not a good excuse. I’m not– I didn’t mean to say– Fuck–”

“Harry.” Miriam tugs his hands away from his face and loops her arms around his neck. She wraps her legs around his torso as well. “So when’s the date?”

Harry looks at her incredulously. “Never. I’m not going on that date.”

“Oh? You told her no?”

“Well…no. Not yet. But I’m going to! I swear I am. Even if I have to do it by email.”

“What are you going to say?” She gently tugs on his curls.

“I’m going to say that I have a girlfriend and I’m not comfortable with going out with her, no matter the reason.” He sounds small, looking at her for approval. “Is that too mean?”

“Nope. I think it’s perfect.” Miriam smiles and leans into his chest.

“You’re not angry with me,” he says, voice rumbling under her ear.

“Nope,” she giggles. “I’m not. She sounds harmless. In fact.” Miriam lifts her head, her eyes sparkling. Harry cups her face. “I’m proud of you for talking to a woman.”

He frowns. “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not weird. This is great, actually! It’s building your social skills. So next time, you won’t have several panic attacks. Maybe just one or two.”

He cups her face with his other hand. “You’re joking around? Mira, you’re supposed to be a green-eyed jealousy monster right now, you know?”

She smiles sweetly at him. “Why?”

“Because your boyfriend got asked out by someone else and he said yes!”

“But you clearly don’t want to go out with her.”

“It’s a matter of being asked out! It means other people want me. I get jealous when people get close to you. It’s normal, right?”

“Oh please,” Miriam says, tucking a curl behind his ear. “I know you’re going to get asked out. You’re so attractive. I’m surprised, if anything, that this doesn’t happen more. Or if it does, you don’t even realize it.” She looks very excited then. “Do people, you know, compliment you a lot?”

He frowns. “Yes?”

“Like – what do they compliment you on?”

“Um, my hair. My tattoos. My eyes–”

Miriam gasps. “Your eyes? Harry, they’re flirting with you!”

“No they’re not! They’re just saying that I have really pretty eyes! In a friendly way!”

She slaps a hand over her mouth. “They say that?! They say you have pretty eyes?”

“Yes? But how else would you compliment someone’s eyes? Just by saying ‘oh hey you have super cool eyes dude’?”

Miriam just has to sit back and look at him for a bit. She has no idea how his brain works, how he interacts with people on a daily basis. No wonder he’s so panicked right now. 

“You,” she tells Harry, “are such a beautiful person.”

Harry slants her a look. “Now you’re flirting with me.”

“Thank you for recognizing that.” She reaches out and grabs his face. “You poor thing.”

“What–”

“Getting flirted with and having no idea what to do. Poor baby.” She kisses both his cheeks. “Poor, poor baby.”

“Mira!” He finally cracks a smile and she’s so very relieved to see it.

She draws back, looking at him square in the eyes. “Do you want a hickey?”

Harry’s eyes widen. “W-what?”

“Do you want a hickey? So everyone knows you have a girlfriend and you don’t have to tell them yourself.”

Harry opens his mouth. Then shuts it. Repeats that twice. He looks all over her face. “Miriam, I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I most certainly am not.” She smiles coyly. “Please say yes. I’m in the mood to bite. You, specifically.”

“Miriam!”

“Fine. No biting.” She leans in and catches his mouth in a kiss. His hands spread wide across her back, her soft hair brushing against his knuckles. “But,” she whispers against his mouth. “Thank you for telling me this.”

He draws back just an inch, looking down at her through hooded eyes. “I think I gave you material to use against me, actually.”

She shakes her head. “No, no. And I’m sorry you were uncomfortable and put on the spot when she asked you out. And that she asked a second time too.” Miriam blinks up at him. “I can see why she’d want to jump on you immediately. You’re really hot. Dunno if that helps.”

He groans softly and drops his forehead to hers. “Don’t do that.”

“Did you really think I’d be so upset with you that I'd break up with you?”

“If not that, you'd be so jealous you’d have angry sex with me.”

Miriam barks out a laugh, slapping hand over her mouth again. “Harry!”

He winces. “I know. Real bad. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Oh, baby.” She holds his face. “I truly learn more and more about you every day.”

He tilts his head and kisses her again. Then, suddenly, he switches over to hug her tightly to his front, his face against her neck. Harry inhales and then sighs. “Can’t imagine doing anything now with anyone else. I don’t want it. Always want it to be you. Always you. Love you so much, Mira, it hurts.”

And Miriam lets him hug her, eyes closed.

Later, she says, “I can pretend to be jealous so we can have sex. Not on the counter though. I didn’t clean it very well after I mixed the ingredients. Plus I’m super hungry so I might think of pie instead of you.”

Harry’s only response to that is quiet laughter.

[polkadotjohnson]

Warning - this has about 19k words

So I just finished posting Inamourada and then I was like, wait, protag slashes their arm every other day to give it to him and is fine and he was making all that drama about not wanting to touch silver just because… it would burn a little? So I wrote this.

Tried to fix/address other stuff also that didn't make sense in part 1 because I wrote that in a 3 day frenzy. Don't know if I got all of it… I've been trying to post this for like a week, but everytime I try I find something new to fix, to add, to delete, and this is the last time or it will live in my Drive forever along with many, many others. If you do find something that doesn't make sense tell me so I can cry try to fix it or something thank you for your services

There's... smut? Kinda? Can't really write detailed stuff when I can't even decide protag's gender fml and I wouldn't really feel comfortable posting explicit stuff here even though my ao3 is pure filth Speaking of ao3, this would probably be rated 'M' there.

🦈 guess I'm jumping all kinds of sharks 🦈 with...

Your Best Nightmare, a sequel to Inamourada

1

"So... When are you going to bite me for real?" You don't take your eyes off the road, but can still see him squirming beside you.

Even with the small orange plant now in the backseat, he's still visibly uncomfortable in your tiny old car. He's too tall, his legs are too long, and you know he's more of a perching than sitting kind of guy. "I'm not sure what you mean. I bit you just the other night."

This time you quickly glance at him so you can scoff while looking directly at him. "It didn't even break the skin!" Although you really, really enjoyed it. You thought that would be it, that he was finally granting your wish, but it seems his words were more real than you imagined. He really was just toying with you.

Drinking his blood did heal you, but it didn't change you. And his emergency self-surgery left a nasty scar on his neck, which you were quick to clean and bandage. The piercing burned his fingers too, but he didn't even let you look at them. You tossed all your silver accessories away.

"Just... wait a little longer."

You want to ask, for what? But annoying him doesn't seem the way to get things to happen.

You glance at your watch. "An hour and a half til dawn. Wanna stop at the next town and search for a place to crash?"

"Yes." He sounds so relieved that you smile. "You are going to ditch this shoe box and find a bigger one."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've brought your limitless vampirican express card then? Because I do have my savings, but it's hardly enough to just drop it on a new car, especially when this one still does the job. Or you're suggesting we joyride?" You shrug. "Cause I'd probably be on board."

He sighs as if completely exhausted of you. "You have so much to learn."

*

You're digging through your bag, trying to find your wallet, when the clerk starts to greet you. "Good evening, what can I-" You raise your head to see what interrupted him, and Vincent is standing beside you looking at him with almost feral intensity. You still have a moment to see the man's eyes turning glazed and unfocused before he turns and takes a key, leaving it on the counter. You grab it with a gleam of fascination in your eyes. "That is so neat! I mean, it's not the Ritz but still… wow."

"Which room?"

"Uh, fourteen." He leaves quickly and you follow, wondering what's the rush. Does he need to use the bathroom?

…Does he-

Well, you don't really want to go there right now.

"Lemme open it." The moment you take a step into the room, he's on you. His hands cradling your head and his entire weight causing you to take several steps back until you're right by the bed. "Woah, take it easy, stud! I… I'm…" Your heart is hammering in your chest, because you can't even pretend that you don't want this. That you don't want him. But you never thought he'd move this fast. You just kissed a couple of days ago. And you're still not even sure if it meant anything or just a pity goodbye, since you were dying and all. "At least let me take a shower first, and…" He's a dead weight on you. "Vincent?"

"...Bed." His voice is a little more than a whisper, but not in a seductive way. More in a 'I think I'm dying again' way.

"Oh, shit. What happened?" You try to get out of his way so he won't fall on you and push him as high up on the bed as you can.

"...Tired. Let me sleep."

You eye him suspiciously. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Hm."

"Do you want some blood?" You make to grab your new (steel) dagger. No response. "Vincent?" He's fast asleep, his chest rising and lowering slowly. His face is paler than usual and his forehead is cold, despite the droplets of sweat that just started forming there. This can't be good.

Careful not to wake him up, you lift the bandage on his neck and flinch. You have no idea how you couldn't smell it before. The wound is festering, pus leaks from it freely now that it's uncovered. You quickly grab your first aid kit and try to clean it as best as you can. It continues leaking until you cover it with a fresh bandage.

It takes you six tries to light up your cigarette with how much you're trembling, and you don't even realize you've lit up a second one until you finish it and see two butts in the ashtray.

What are you going to do? This is all your fault. Titanium, steel, gold, aluminum, brass, bronze, copper, plastic, bone. Why did you have to be wearing silver piercings? Why did you have to try and do something you knew you weren't going to be able to?

Why did he have to help you? He should have just left you there. Isn't he supposed to be a monster?

You grab your blade and make a small cut next to other scars and stand next to him. "Please." Please have some. I'm sure it'll make you better." You let it drip into his parted lips just like you did that night that now seems like so long ago. The blood runs down the side of his mouth and dies in a red dot on the bed. "Fuck! What do I do?"

"...Be quiet and go to sleep…" His tongue does peek out to lick at the blood you tried to feed him.

Making sure the blinds and windows are well closed, you take off your shoes to do just that, but not before removing his first.

(You were wondering if his feet were clawed too. They aren't.)

His face is still cold to your touch, and you throw a blanket over him before you turn out the lights and lie down beside him.

*

The bed looks like a crime scene. Besides the blood you've spilled over him, you completely forgot to dress your wound, and apparently you tossed and turned all night, spreading red everywhere. You were so scared to fall asleep only to wake up with him dead by your side that the stress ironically made you so tired that you blacked out.

He's still breathing slowly. If it weren't for his flaxen complexion, you'd think everything was okay.

Your watch tells you it's 3:15 p.m., and your stomach complains about being neglected. "I doubt this place has room service," you say with a weak laugh as you get up. "Try not to die while I'm away, okay asshole?" He doesn't stir, and you open the door just a little, hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the doorknob.

After raiding the vending machines, you grab your laptop from your car, searching through your spell books, which you took the trouble to digitalize. But they're all mainly about necromancy, there's nothing about silver poisoning. The internet isn't helpful either. To the world, things like vampires and necromancers are nothing but fiction. You're lucky your grandma left you those books. Reading about the various different resurrection spells, you found there was a specific one for vampires, which is when you found out the possibility they could actually be real, and that's when your whole obsession to find and become one started. You knew the books were serious when your cat was run over and you tried a spell on him. He lived to be 28, which is highly uncommon for a cat.

And no matter how many books you read, one law was always the same: no creature can be revived twice. You still tried with your cat a second time, but nothing happened. At least you got to spend a long time together, and you were thankful for that.

But this has nothing to do with your current predicament, and you need to figure out what to do. He was fine the past few days, why did he suddenly collapse like that? Was it after he used his powers on the clerk? That had to be it. "I could have paid for the room, you didn't have to show off."

You return to the room and sit beside him, leaning against the headboard. He rustles under the covers and your heart hurts a little looking at his pained expression. "You really don't know what I should do? How do you get better?"

He takes a deep breath, but doesn't open his eyes. "...I'm trying to sleep it off."

You groan. "Dude, it's not a hangover! Your neck is fucking rotting!" 

"You're being dramatic."

"No, I'm really not! You have to know what to do! Last time you were dying you didn't say anything, so I had to figure it out on my own. Don't be like that again." He doesn't say anything to that, and you sigh. "I could try to stitch it…"

"Wouldn't work."

"Why?"

"...It just wouldn't."

With the way the wound is necrosing, he's probably right. There's something you've been meaning to ask him ever since that day but kept forgetting. "Why didn't you cut yourself with your claws?"

"I… can't hurt myself with them, only others."

"Oh. It's probably for the best though, I mean what kinda mishaps you could have in the toil- uh, I mean…" You look at your watch. "Oh, look, it's uh, 4:08 y'know, dessert time. Be right back." You're off the bed and out the door before he can even open his mouth. You think even your hair is burning. Why don't you think before you speak?

You don't really want dessert, and besides, you left your wallet behind. So you just sit on the floor beside the door with your head down, wishing a hole would magically appear and drag you to hell.

"...Come back."

"Shit! How did you know I was still here? You're not using your powers again, are you? Because I'm pretty sure that's what got you like that."

"I can see your shadow."

"Oh." Betrayed by your own shadow.

Closing the door behind you, you lie on your side so you can face him. You try to tell yourself he's looking slightly better, hoping it's not just wishful thinking. "Does it hurt?"

The smallest movement of his shoulders. "Less than being staked through the heart."

You wince. "There has to be something we can do. Someone that can help us."

For the longest time he doesn't say anything, and you think he's fallen asleep again. Then he raises a hand. "Give me a map." You immediately bring up one on your phone. He points to a name, probably a small town. Doesn't seem to be far away from where you are right now. "I know someone here."

"...You have friends?"

He chuckles silently. "Something like that. Although I doubt any of them were ever stupid enough to get silver in their bloodstream."

"Well, let's go then!" You start to get up but he holds your arm.

"Show me."

For the shortest moment you have no idea what he's talking about. Then you fish the silver pendant from under your clothes so he can see it. An owl sitting on a crescent moon. You fell in love with it instantly.

It was in a jewelry box he handed you a few hours after you were on the road. It belonged to his mother, and you wondered how his life would have turned out if she had been wearing it the night the vampire who turned him showed up.

"Can you walk?"

He pulls you with enough force that you fall back on the bed. "Wait until the sun sets."

"Oh, right. That probably would be for the best."

2

"Are they cemetery ghouls like you?"

He's reclined the seat as far as it would go, but it still looks uncomfortable. "You mean like us. Don't worry. They'll know when I'm nearby, and they'll make themselves known."

Before leaving, you offered him your arm again and he took it, drinking enough to regain some of his strength. And his wound looked... only slightly worse.

"Who-"

"Let me rest."

"Ugh, fine." It's probably for the best anyway. The radio is low, and you sing along, quiet enough that you don't think you're bothering him.

"You have a nice voice."

Your hands clutch the steering wheel tight, unsure if you heard him right. Because other than the taste of your blood, this is the first time he's ever complimented you. You look at him to make sure you didn't imagine it, but his eyes are closed, arms crossed and breathing slow. "Watch the road."

"Shit! How-"

"Listen. They can't know I'm… unwell. If they do, they might do something." He pulls up on the collar of the overcoat he put on before you left, making sure it's covering the wound.

"They might do something? What kind of friends are those?"

"I never said they were my friends."

"Alright, alright, whatever. But then… how are we going to ask them for information about silver?"

"I guess we'll just have to… work it into conversation."

"Great." You drive in silence for a while longer. But there is something you just have to ask. "So… what if I asked for one of them to bite me?"

He yawns. "You wouldn't. You want me."

It hits all at once: face burning, cold, freezing butterflies in your stomach, anger, resignation. You barely pay attention to his explanations that not everyone has the ability to turn others anyway, certainly not them. "You're so full of yourself."

"Am I wrong?"

You rather not give him the satisfaction. Instead, you go back to the song on the radio, raising the volume a little. But you have to lower it again, because you don't think you've heard him right. "What's that?"

"I said you're under my spell right now. I could make you do whatever I wanted."

"Are you… is your fever back? Are you delirious right now?"

"Hit the brakes."

Your head feels fuzzy all of a sudden, and you obey him before he even finishes speaking. It makes you speechless, like you have so much to say you don't even know where to begin. "You… you idiot! You're gonna get worse again! Why… what…"

He sits up and holds your face with both hands. "This doesn't affect me like that. But thank you for your concern." He leans towards you, gaze going from your eyes to your mouth, but you can't stand to look at him right now, instead lying your head on his chest and trying to pull him closer.

"Is it because I drank your blood? He hums in affirmation. "So? What would you have me do, then?"

"...That is your instinct? I say I can control everything you do and you get closer to me?"

"I've never had much self-preservation, what do you want me to say?" Besides, he's said so himself. Why waste energy when you're so willing?

"You should definitely never get near Sebastian." He pulls away from you and lies back down, and you resume driving after a moment.

Nothing he says or does makes much sense to you. Why did he even tell you if he wasn't going to make you do anything?

You suppose he's just a hedonist, doing what he wants, whenever he feels like it without thinking too much about it. 

…Not that you're all that different if you're being honest "We're almost there."

"Hm." You can hear a tinge of grumpiness in his voice that makes you giddy, but you try not to let it show in your face.

You want him to kiss you all the time. You want him to kiss you until your lips fall off. But to know that he might feel the same even if just a little makes you almost happier than if you had let him.

You park the car next to a sign that indicates the name of the town. "I think this is it. What do-" A sudden bump on the roof of the car interrupts you, and he sits up quickly.

"Remember, whatever you do, don't-"

"Hey, Vincent, so it's really you!" Someone's upside down face appears out his window. A woman, you can't tell much about her other than she's obviously a vampire too, the pale face and red eyes giving it away almost immediately. "Long, long time no see. What brings you back to my humble abode?"

He smiles pleasantly. "Grace. Still as much energy as the last time we saw each other, I see."

"Oh, you mean when you left me for dead and ran away with your next conquest? Yeah, good times. He's here too, by the way. Said you got tired of him even faster than you did me." She plops down to the ground, and someone opens the door on your side, pulling you out of the car before you have a chance to protest.

"What's that, are you bringing us fresh meals now?" The vampire starts to examine you, his eyes going straight to the pendant you're wearing, but Vincent pulls you away from his grip, snaking an arm around you.

"Sorry, not for you." Despite his condition, you feel safe enough now that you allow yourself to check them out. They're both so unnecessarily attractive that it makes you feel inadequate. The woman, Grace, has a doll face, black hair with a white strand that makes her look like a Hollywood starlet. You still don't know the man's name, but despite him having a more generic beauty, it is the kind that makes you think of superhero movies. "I seem to remember having taught you well how to get any prey you so desired, Paul. So eyes off what's mine."

His words shouldn't floor you like they do, you know it's mostly for show. And looking at them does make you wonder what he's doing hanging around with you when apparently those are his standards.

Then again, you are his willing food source.

Grace checks you out, much like you did with her, and turns to the man. "Have I told you Paul, how many times he told me I was perfect? I bet it was the same with you."

"Nnnope." Paul crosses his arms with a smirk, still eyeing your pendant. "We weren't much for talking, anyway." He winks and clicks his tongue, and Grace slaps his arm.

"What can I say." His voice is right in your ear, making you shiver. "The heart is fickle."

Grace moves a hand to touch you, but pulls back after looking at him. You can only imagine what kind of face he's making. "Feel free to come find us when he's done with you. Vincent's rejects club. Although if he still hasn't turned you by then, I can't guarantee how long you'll last." She frowns. "Why hasn't he turned you yet?"

"You know, I was wondering the same thing." Her words don't really affect you, probably because you're still somewhat in shock that, of all the things you could have possibly found out about him, the fact that he's apparently a player wasn't one of them. It shouldn't have surprised you, really. You did see him go from the blonde cougar to the girl in a matter of days. "I've been asking him for months now, and nothing." His arm tightens around you, but he doesn't say anything.

"Months?" Grace raises a hand to her mouth. "Have you... have you actually settled down, Vincent?" You notice Paul isn't around anymore. You also notice you have no idea where you are. There's just an empty field and a barn. The third thing you notice is that you missed his response, and you curse under your breath.

A black cat jumps on the hood of the car, and you try to go to it, but his grip around your waist stops you.

"Brought Tony." Paul rests an arm around Grace's shoulder and she holds his hand. The cat looks at you, and his eyes have a red glow to them.

"Wait. Them, I can understand." You manage to turn around a little so you can see his face. "But are you gonna tell me you've bitten a cat? Why… how… you know what, I don't even know what question to focus on…" You call to the cat, and he approaches you, rubbing his head on your hand. "You poor thing. Damn, how hungry were you?" Vincent just smiles enigmatically at you.

It's the first time in your life that you're jealous of a cat.

"Oh, cut it out, Tony." Grace playfully slaps the cat's hind, and he hisses at her, then goes back to rubbing himself on you.

"You're such a handsome boy." You try to pick him up, but Vincent shoos him away. You turn again to chide him.

"Aw, thanks."

You freeze, finger halfway to Vincent's face. That's not Paul's voice. So who…

When you look at where the cat was, the only one there is a young Asian man with a sweet smile. He's cute. And naked. "Okay, what the fuck?"

Paul hands him some clothes he'd been holding, and the guy just starts dressing up like it's nothing.

Vincent smirks. "Tony. Was it everything you've ever wanted?"

"Oh man, I love it! Okay, like, I lost my job at Wendy's because they only had day shifts, but it doesn't matter. I'm having so much fun, you have no idea. Speaking of which, let's spar, I want my sire to see how much I've improved." He's already getting onto a fighting stance.

Vincent's smile tightens. "...I'm weary from the trip, maybe later. I'll trust your word."

"Really? Aw, man. Okay, okay. Oh and by the way, I'm loving this reunion thing, but it's gonna start raining in about two minutes, so we should get inside."

Grace and Paul start walking towards the shed. "Good idea. Then maybe you can tell us why is it that you're alive, Vincent, hate of my life. Or are you a zombie vampire now?"

Oh, right. They felt him die too, just like Sebastian. 

"It was just a… misunderstanding, that's all." He starts following them, but you stop him.

"Should I park the car closer? What if-"

"Just leave it. Nobody will want that piece of junk anyway. It doesn't even start without you having to sacrifice a small child to it."

"Oh, that's a little too much, don't you think? I just have to… talk to her gently. Give her a little encouragement, that's all."

"It's okay, honey." Grace turns to look at you. "I promise you no one's gonna touch it."

You can't argue with her conviction, so you follow them. She opens the door, and just a few steps in, you can't believe your eyes. The barn looks like something out of a catalogue. It was modified into a cozy, spacious house, every room separated by different kinds of partitions and an actual walled part, which you imagine are bedrooms and bathroom. "Wow, this is incredible! I thought every vampire lived in squalor like you." You turn around, but Vincent's still outside, the first droplets of rain already starting to fall. "Uh, are you planning on showering in the rain?"

He smiles condescendingly at you. "I can't come in. Which is strange, since I've been here before."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Grace watches him with, well, with a graceful smile. "I put up all kinds of protection spells so no one would find this place, and I think your credentials have been revoked. Oops." She doesn't invite him.

He glares at you. "Come out. Now." His usually calm and tranquil voice now completely stripped of every emotion but rage. Your head starts feeling fuzzy again, like it did in the car. The desire to do what he says is bigger than anything else. As you take a step towards him, Grace holds your arm.

"Don't be mean, Vincent. You don't want your dear friend to catch a cold, do you?"

Not being able to do what he ordered makes you feel like you're being torn in half, but Grace's grip on your arm is unrelenting.

His face as he looks at her holds the same ferocity he used on the hotel clerk, and you want to tell him not to do it, but your head is too hazy. You see her eyes start to glaze as both sides release you, his in your mind and her hand on your arm.

"Vincent, stop it. You can come in." For the first time in the night, Paul's voice is serious. He pulls Grace into his arms just as Vincent all but stumbles into yours. Despite being wet from the rain, from his expression you can tell he's already sweating.

"Why did you do that? You know I have this." You show him the pendant and quickly tuck it into your clothes so it won't touch him and pull him to a nearby couch.

"Still… too risky…"

"Why did you even give it to me, then?" You desperately need a cigarette, but despite seeing an ashtray on the coffee table, you're not going to smoke inside before they tell you it's okay, and going back outside is out of the question. You look around, hoping they won't try anything, but Paul seems to be making sure Grace is okay, and you have no idea where Tony is. "Do you wanna drink some before you rest?"

"No!" He opens his eyes, and almost looks like he wants to use his powers again, so you make sure to send him back the same exact kind of glare. "Not now."

"Calm down, I get it! I'm not gonna cut myself in a house full of vampires. Not even I am that dumb. I was gonna ask if maybe they had some to spare." You try to get up, but he holds on to you with whatever strength he had left.

"Stay… stay."

"Great." You smile unamused. "As if I didn't feel like your pet enough already." There's barely any space left to sit down since he occupies the entire couch, so you push him to the side a little so you can sit down and put his head on your lap.

"Aw, that's adorable."

"Grace… you…" You feel his shoulders tense like he wants to get up, so you hold him in place.

"It was a joke, Vincent. You used to have a sense of humor." She hands you a towel, and you immediately start drying his face and scrubbing his hair. Luckily his clothes didn't really get wet, just a little damp. "And what happened to you? Why are you like this? Does it have to do with that misunderstanding you mentioned?"

"...Bit rough… for a joke." He points at you with his thumb, but you have no idea what he means. "Arm."

"What? Oh." Only now do you see the clear handprint on your arm. Grace's nails aren't long enough to be claws like his, but they left an indent too. "It's okay, it doesn't hurt or anything."

"Says the… m-maso-"

"Shhhh, go to sleep!" He can barely speak and he mocks you. You laugh nervously. "You big baby! Tomorrow you'll be brand new." You're still laughing, but you know by Grace's raised eyebrow that she has made you. "Um, any… anyway, after some… things that happened, he gets a little bit tired every now and then. We're looking into it. But I'd really prefer if you could wait for him to wake up so he'll tell you all about it, I'm not very good with explanations." You hope you were vague enough not to give anything away, because you have no idea what he's going to tell them. "Can I smoke in here?"

"Sure." You fish the pack from your pocket and she hands you the ashtray. "Some human pleasures never leave us." She lights it for you with her own lighter. "Sorry about your arm."

"It's okay, really. I'm used to doing worse."

"...So you're just feeding this parasite out of your own free will? What do you get out of it?"

"I, um… well…" You weren't lying when you said you weren't good with explanations.

"It's alright, I get it. Your face says it all. He… are you asleep, Vincent?" No response. His breathing deep and slow. "He's terrible, and it took me a long time to forgive him. Him and Paul, of course. But I get it." Her tone gets a little jaded, but not fully. "When you're young and in love, it's like they've hung the moon and the stars."

You choke a little on the smoke. "In love? With him? Me? Ah, no, no, no, I, I just follow him around because I want him to bite me, that's all! I'm not in-" She looks at your hand, which has been ruffling his hair in the gentlest manner and you hadn't even noticed, and you freeze. "I was just… his hair is gonna look ridiculous when it dries and we're gonna make fun of him. Yeah." He turns in his sleep, pressing his face against your stomach and grabbing your shirt. Your heart goes ballistic, and you wheeze a little.

"You're swooning."

"I'm… sighing. He's too heavy and my legs are falling asleep."

Grace's smile tells you she didn't buy any of it. "My mistake, then. And besides, there's no point in holding grudges when you're eternal. Supposedly. Y'know, other than the own perils we go through being the way we are."

"Do you like it? Being a vampire?" You're so glad for the opportunity to change the subject.

"I hated it at first. Couldn't go to the beach, I miss the beach. Couldn't eat my favorite meals. Couldn't see my family anymore." She raises her eyebrows at you.

"I'm sorry. But me, I'm… there's no one anymore. I don't have anyone who will miss me."

She smiles. "Not a very smart thing to say in a house full of bloodthirsty monsters."

"I've known monsters. You're not one."

It takes her a moment to continue. "Are you sure? The whole blood thing was so difficult to get used to. And learning how to stop before you kill someone. I can't tell you there haven't been casualties." Her words do nothing to change your opinion. But you do wonder if you're the only one here who's never killed anyone. Has the cat guy…? "But now, honestly, I revel in it. There's so much freedom to do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. Well, other than consecrated ground, of course. Which did make some of my life harder, since some of my spells do use holy water."

"Spells, oh, like you mentioned you did with the house? So you're a…"

"A vampire witch." Her voice is full of pride.

"Cool!" You almost ask her if she knows anything about silver, but it would probably give too much away. And you want to tell her about your own little dabbles in magic, but feel it's better not to. At least not until you're sure you can trust her. "So you could have put a hex on him!"

"Who says I didn't? Probably left him with a bad indigestion at least for a few weeks."

"How long… uh, how long have you and Paul been together?"

She lights a cigarette. "Do you mean how long since this trash dumped me for him, then kicked him out too, and I was the bigger person and decided to give him a chance? Oh, about ten years and five months, give or take."

"Ten… ten years? Holy shit, then he must have left a trail of broken hearts all over the world!" You thought this was a recent situation, but it's clear this playboy has been playing for a long time. 

"You're lucky vampires can't impregnate or get pregnant, or he would have left a trail of bastards too."

You can feel your face burning, so you look away, hoping for anything that will allow you to change the subject again. Tony saves you by sitting down beside Grace, holding a bag with a straw.

"Capri Sun?" He offers the bag, then laughs dismissively. "Nah, just kidding, it's blood."

"That's right, you! You can… you can change! Can you all change?"

"Nah, I'm special." He slurps noisily on his plasma juice.

"Tony's the only one I know that has that ability. And it's not just a cat he can turn into, you know."

"Babe, come to bed, I'm cold." Paul does look like the kind of guy who would call his partner 'babe'.

"And with that, I'm off." Grace stands up, patting Tony on the shoulder. "But not before this. Raise your legs." You do so, and she crouches in front of the couch, raises it with one hand a little while messing with something outside your field of vision. The couch shakes a little and stretches. It's a pull-out. She waves and leaves.

You stretch your legs a little, trying to get Vincent to move too, but it's like moving a rock. Tony's watching you with a smirk, which you return to him. "So, you're from the heartbreak club too?"

He laughs. "Me? Oh, no, no. Me and Paul used to work together and one day he introduced us, and I just thought it'd be pretty cool to be a vampire. So I asked and he bit me."

"You… and how long it took him?"

"Hmm I think it took a while. I had to pester him all night until he did it."

You can't believe your ears. "Night? It took you one night? You just… asked and he did it?"

"Yeah. Why?"

You feel like punching something. "No reason." Just as you're about to ask him about his ability, he stands up abruptly.

"Um… you know what, I think I'm gonna finish this in bed." He leaves quickly, not giving you a chance to get a word in. Did Vincent do something?

"Listen, mister. If you're using your powers again, I'm dragging your casanova ass back to the rain."

"Hmm…" He releases your shirt and stretches beside you.

"Are you really asleep?" No response. So you sigh and reach for the lamp on the coffee table, clicking it off.

Even in this state, the couch is still smaller than the hotel bed, so you're much closer now. Even in the faint light coming from elsewhere in the house, you swear you can see freckles on his nose and trace them with a finger, then his sinfully beautiful lips.

You're not in love. You want him, sure. For a long time now, and this desire grows with every passing day. 

But it's going to break you when he leaves you like he did with the others. Whether you got him to bite you or not, you know you won't be strong enough.

So you tell your heart to shut the hell up because you're not in love.

*

The tinted windows don't let any light pass through them, but you can tell it's morning from the birds. You yawn and stretch, and then something else makes you startlingly aware that it is, indeed, morning. Right against your hips.

Any trace of sleep has left your system. Someone threw a blanket over you two while you slept, and you push it away, too hot for it now.

"Hmm…" He pulls you towards him, and in a second, you're in full contact with him. Then he starts to move.

"He… hey…" As much as your entire body is burning for him, you don't want to let him do something like this in his sleep.

"Yes?" Oh, he's awake. So it's fine then.

"I, uh, see that you're feeling better."

He hums, hand in your hair to pull you to his lips, and it's so much better than the last time. The time you were dying. Now you have the wherewithal to give just as much as you're getting, sucking his breath into your lungs and biting his lips whenever there's a break in the kiss.

Your hand moves without your permission, popping a button, then his fly.

"Wait." He holds your wrist, and your face burns even hotter than before.

You pull your hand from him in a flash. "I'm so sorry! I-"

He kisses your chin. "Wait. Let me drink. They're well fed, they won't mind even if they wake up."

"I… the knife's in my boot." He shakes his head.

"Do you trust me?"

The rational part of your brain tells you you should say no. But your instinct says otherwise. "Yeah."

"Take it off."

"Wha…?"

"The pendant."

You do so quickly, pulling it over your head and storing it safely in your pocket. Either it's bright enough out now or your eyes have grown used to the dark, because you can make out his outline as he raises his claws to your neck, scratching it softly. You feel anything but fear, turning your head to give him more access. You can feel your skin tearing and you sigh wholeheartedly.

Then his mouth is on you, lapping and sucking languidly, as if he were giving you a hickey. Also known as a love bite. You'd laugh if you weren't so stirred up. 

Your head is in a warm, comforting haze; it feels so good to have his mouth there, where you wanted it for so long. Even if it isn't exactly how you wanted it. He takes your hand in his, guiding it, silently asking you to continue from where he interrupted you. You palm him through his pants first, and he sucks a little harder. Your hand goes inside, touching him in earnest, and he stops to sigh against your neck for a moment before continuing. Then his hands are moving, all over you as if he knew exactly how to touch you, every spot that makes you go insane. Your unoccupied hand finds his hair, and you pull a little so he'll look at you.

You can see your blood on his lips, and you bring him down to you, tasting yourself. Bitter, salty, sweet, all blending together, and when your hand speeds up, you swallow his moans too.

When you open your eyes, he's holding your knife to his arm. "Just a couple of drops, or you'll never manage to escape me."

With your breathing still normalizing, your mouth has a hard time catching up with your brain. "I really don't think I want to." You freeze, feeling like you've said too much, wanting to take it back.

"Well, you have to. It's not just your neck." To your luck, he misunderstood you. He clicks the lamp on the coffee table and you see the scratches he's left all over you. "I know you like it, but I imagine you wouldn't want to give them a show."

And while you're sure you'll be wearing on your face how you spent your morning, you really don't want to make it too obvious. So you accept his blood.

It's ironic really, how while all your wounds are closing up, his seems to be the same. "Shit. I'll go grab the first aid, I need to redress the one on your neck too."

Even though the bedrooms seem to all be in the back, you open the door just a little, feeling like a single ray of light getting in would taint their home. It's still pretty cloudy, but you wouldn't want to risk it. You take the first aid kit, a change of clothes for you both and at the last minute, his orange sapling.

When you return, he's under the covers again, and after quickly washing up and changing, you sit beside him to dress his wounds. You try to keep your composure while you clean his neck, but he can tell what you're thinking without even looking at you. "That bad?"

"We need to talk to them today. Even if we have to tell them everything."

"Go find something to eat. They won't wake up before late noon."

"Okay. Get some rest too. Oh, I was thinking." You show him the pot. "If they're okay with it, we could plant it here. It's not going to survive long staying in the car so much. Then if we… if we find some other place, we can take it there. I mean, if you want to."

He smiles, sweeter than you've ever seen. "Sure. We'll do it tonight."

You stand up to leave, but stop suddenly worried. "And Grace… are you sure she…"

"If she hasn't killed me by now, she won't."

You're still a little uneasy, but he does know her better than you. "Alright, be back soon. Here." You leave his clothes on the sofa and he nods. When you're at the door, he calls you back.

"There is something I forgot." The seriousness of his voice makes you worried all over again. "Come here." You stand beside him, but he shakes his head. "Closer."

"What? What is it?" You sit down next to him, hoping he won't tell you he just remembered silver infections only last a few days and then the afflicted dies or something like that.

But he just lays a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. "This." He smiles. "You can go now."

That's… that's not fair at all. You're out of your element. You're fighting a losing match. How can you lie to yourself when he gets you so worked up with such a simple gesture, with a chaste kiss. "You're… you're infuriating." Face on fire, you stumble on your own feet before you leave.

*

The town is small and quiet, but there's a diner that catches your attention because of the tall booths you can see from outside. It's been ages since you'd stop caring about what other people think of you, but you don't know this place, so it's better not to draw too much attention.

Half the patrons inside eye you up and down as you enter, but return to their meals after a moment. You grab a menu and choose the booth furthest in the back.

The pie is big and hot, and biting into it, you just can't help remembering this morning. His touches, his smell, his taste, his noises… 

You're so not in love with him.

Just as you're deciding what to take for dinner so you won't have to return here, someone sits across from you. A pale man with blonde hair. His eyes a light red, almost orange. Your hand instinctively goes to your neck, and you try not to have a panic attack when you realize the pendant isn't there. You took it off and put it… where? Oh no, is it back at the house? No, it's in your pocket. In the pants you changed this morning. In the trunk of your car.

"I can tell you're not from around here. What's a little thing like you doing in a town like this?"

Thing. You hate being called a thing. But you smile sweetly at him "Just visiting some friends."

"Oh yeah? Wanna make some new friends?"

"I… I don't know, they're waiting for me and I'm supposed to bring them some stuff. For lunch." You start to get up, but he grabs your hand.

"Nah, stay with me. They can wait."

You sit back down, feeling a little drowsy just like last night. But it's different, his persuasion or whatever it is doesn't seem to be nearly as strong as that controlling power Vincent has over you, or his own persuasion. While the people you've seen affected by it seemed to be in a zombie-like state, you remain pretty aware.

"Don't make a scene, no one's gonna care. They know not to mess with me. I want you. And what I want, I get."

You look around and it seems like everyone is making a point to not look in your direction. "Oh wow, that's a little fast, isn't it? We don't even know each other."

"Easy to fix. I'm Noz, and what is your name, little thing?"

You'll stick a fork in your eye before you tell this guy your name. "Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way."

"Awesome name!" From the shit-eating grin on his face, he really seems to like it. "See? Now we know each other, let's go." He stands up, pulling you along, glancing at a man sitting on the next booth. "Pay it for me, will ya?"

What is he going to do, just walk outside in the middle of the day? Will he burst into flames? You hope so. But once out, he seems just fine, and you wonder if it has to do with the weather. The clouds are so heavy you don't even know where the sun is in the sky. "Um, where are we going?"

"I live right around the corner. I'm gonna give you an experience like you've never had."

"We could take my car, I just have to get something in the-"

"No need, it's right over there." He starts pulling you away from where you parked.

You need to find a way to get to your car, but nothing comes to mind. "Um… what kind of experience are we talking about here? 'Cause let me tell ya, I've been through a lot. I could show you pictures on my camera, and-"

He stops suddenly, pushing you against the wall of the diner. "If you're so eager to know, here." He shows you his fangs, running his tongue over them.

They're minuscule compared to Vincent's.

"You're… you're a vampire? Wow! That's awesome! I… I… I've always wanted to meet one! Could you-"

Then he's all over your personal space, sniffing you. You try not to cringe. "You can cut the act, sweetheart. I can smell it all over you. Especially…" He sniffs long and hard around your neck and you close your eyes, holding in a whimper of disgust. "Here. So what's the story, morning glory?"

"I…" Thinking on your feet, you cover your face with both hands, pretending to cry. "He's holding my son hostage! And keeping me as his personal supply of food! Look!" You show him your arm, littered with scars. "I can't take it anymore, and I don't know what to do! I'm sorry I lied to you, but if he finds out I talked to another vampire, he's going to kill you. He's too powerful."

"Oh, I doubt he's got anything on me, baby. I've been like this for years. Experience counts in matters like these." Years, not decades. Okay.

"Really? Because he said he turned about two months ago. So you're probably right, you must be much more powerful than him. Maybe… no, I couldn't ask."

"I'll destroy him with one hand."

"You promise?"

"Yup."

You brace yourself for the sell. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" You wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. Now you're going to have to shower again. "Can you turn me too? I've always wanted to be like you."

"Well, I don't think you can be like me, but yeah, yeah sure. I'll turn you." You can tell from the way he speaks he doesn't really have the power to do so.

"Great! I'll take you to him." And just in case he doesn't buy it, you add in the most seductive voice you can muster: "And then we can have all kinds of experiences afterwards."

"Hmm yeah, baby. It's your lucky day, you better show your appreciation." 

As you turn to thankfully go back to your car, he slaps you, and you take a deep, deep breath before you turn back and wink at him. "C'mon, tiger." Oh shit, you hope you haven't ruined it.

"Rawr!" Ew, nope, you didn't.

He sits beside you, and while you could take him to the house, you don't know just how capable any of them are in a fight, and they're most likely still asleep. Vincent could definitely take care of him. If he weren't... unwell, as he put it. Besides, you've gone too far now to give up. You turn the key, but the car doesn't start. You try two more times. "Shit, not again. Stay here, I'll get a jumper cable in the back. Do you think someone at the diner will help me?"

"If they don't, I just have to tell them to."

Vincent would only have to look at them.

You get out of the car and close your eyes, silently praying to whatever dark deities might be around. The pendant is peeking from the pocket of your pants, almost falling into the mess that is your trunk, so you quickly grab it before it does.

"What's that you got there?" You scream in surprise at the sudden hand on your shoulder and press the pendant to it. "Ow! What the fuck?" Before he can move, you do it again, wishing you could cut him with it, but it doesn't have any sharp edges. But your knife does. "You fucking freak! You goddamn piece of-" You slash his stomach once, but he dodges it the second time and punches you in the face. You stumble backwards, the knife flying from your hand, and you watch the glinting blade with longing as he gets near.

Glinting?

The sun burns your eyes. It's just as sudden as Vincent said. 'Noz' or whatever his name is, doesn't even have time to scream and he's gone, dust and ashes already scattering in the light breeze.

You were never a big fan of the sun, but today you'd kiss it if you could.

With trembling hands, you put the pendant around your neck again, just about to reach for a cigarette when you notice everyone that was at the diner is now watching you from the sidewalk. "Uh, you guys serve steak?"

*

No one laughed at your attempted joke, but at least you got a couple of free meals out of it.

You turn on the radio but can't remember how the player works. Then you hit the brakes and throw up on the side of the road.

Did you just kill someone? Now… now what? No one seemed to make a fuss, no one called the police. Although it would be hard to convict you without evidence of an actual crime, other than the witnesses. Is that how it went with vampires? No laws, no punishment, no justice? Not that you want to go to jail for that garbage. But… it's the same the other way around, isn't it? They kill too, and no one bats (haha) an eye at it. Well, you highly doubt they're ever mentioned in any law book so that's the only way it can be.

You grab a bottle of water to wash your mouth and start the car again, the right way this time. Even though you're done with adventures for the day, you don't want to get back too soon while everyone is still asleep, so you drive around, trying to find something to do. There's a tiny movie theater, and you buy a ticket for the next session, barely paying attention to what the movie's about and sleep through almost the entire thing. When you leave, the sun's hidden again, and it's considerably darker. Almost 5 p.m., your phone tells you. Time to go back.

Your three new acquaintances are playing cards on a table, while Vincent still rests. "I thought you guys would be playing baseball or something."

Vincent sees your face and is beside you before you take two steps in. "What happened?" He takes your face in his hands, clinically examining the bruises that have already formed around your eye.

"You should see the other guy. Oh no, you can't, because he's pixie dust now. What are you guys playing anyway? Guess I should put some ice in this, huh?" You let him pull you to the couch, and Tony hands you a frozen bloodbag.

"Sorry, it's all we have."

You thank him and hold it against your eye, trying to sum up the events as best as you can while ignoring the tears flowing down your face.

"I know that guy. Well, knew." Paul winks at you. "Real douchebag. You did good." He frowns. "What kind of stupid name is 'Noz' anyway?"

Grace chimes in. "Besides, if you're worried about it, you did not kill him, he did so himself. Any vampire worth their salt wouldn't be scurrying around outside during the day, cloudy weather or not." She raises her eyebrows haughtily. "He was asking for it."

Their words do put you more at ease, but Vincent's face is dark. "I should have. I should have turned you." He shakes his head. "You wouldn't make it."

"...How do you know?"

"Because you're just like him!" Vincent's usually smooth voice now marred with despair. "Haven't I told you? He was weak, and so are you!" He gets up to stand by the window.

"But he did make it! And I think I just proved I'm strong enough, didn't I?" You want to be angry at him, but the fact he doesn't want to do it because he's worried about you allays you a little. Then something dawns on you. "You said… you said you fed him all night. Your blood, right? Which is why he made it." He nods. "So that means… if you bit me now…" You look at the bandage on his arm, then at his face.

"I told them everything."

He's the one who's too weak. If he thinks you'll need him to look after you and feed you his own blood, right now is not exactly the best time to do it. "Did you know? Even before the hotel? You knew there was something wrong, didn't you?"

"I had an inkling, when my neck wouldn't stop broiling."

You follow him to the window, hitting his chest with your fists. You imagine this whole scene must probably look like a soap opera to the others. "You idiot. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you do the thing with the clerk?" You hear Grace whispering, "Ooh, thing with the clerk?"

He wraps his arms around you, and you already know you're going to start crying again any minute now. "I didn't know. I didn't know what would happen."

"If I… if I hadn't almost killed myself, none of this would be happening. This is all my fault!"

"I heard you scream. If it hadn't been for you, we'd both be dead." He wipes your tears with his fingers. "Come on." He brings you back to the couch and hands you the frozen bloodbag. "I could give you more blood to heal this quickly, but I have the feeling you would say no."

You take the bag and press it against your face again. "You're damn right I would say no."

"You could take mine. Or any of ours, I don't think any of us would mind," Grace offers.

Vincent intervenes before you can reply. "That is out of the question. After last night, I don't know if I'm very fond of your… jokes. Best not risk it."

You elbow him. "It's okay, guys, thanks. Not my first black eye. More importantly. Do you know anything? That can help us?"

Grace shakes her head. "We told him already. The only contact any of us had with silver after turning was that I was wearing a silver ring, and it almost burned my finger off. But it healed after I took it off. I'm sorry."

"I gave him a suggestion, but…"

"Paul…" Vincent's voice is low and menacing.

Paul shrugs. "It's all I got."

"What? What is it?" No matter what it is, you have to try.

"Nothing worth trying. At least nothing I would-"

"Please!" You grab his shirt with both hands, your voice filled with desperation. "Please. I'm begging you. Anything is worth it."

"...He suggested I go to Sebastian," he says with an unamused smile. "Apparently, he's been studying all kinds of things about… us. Guess he really wants to be the expert in vampire lore."

You shake your head, not believing what you're hearing. "Then what are we still doing here? Let's go!"

He backs away from your hands, still strangely leering at you. "Do you seriously want so bad to be turned that you'd ask me to subject myself to him?"

It's like the world vanishes around you and a black hole starts forming in your chest. You can faintly hear Grace yelling at him, but can't make out her words, can't make out anything. "I'm… going for a walk. Thanks for the ice, Tony." You drop the bag on the couch and leave, ignoring everyone.

No amount of cigarettes can make you stop shaking, so you drive to a nearby convenience store and buy a fifth of whiskey, something you haven't abused in years. But you don't care. You just want to black out. You can't think. Don't think. Don't think, just drink.

*

"Ugh. Wha…?" There's a crowd of people hitting your head with tiny hammers. Over and over. You can't see them, but you can feel them there. And apparently they made you drink out of a toilet, because that's what your mouth tastes like. Why is it dark? Is it still night? You can't see anything out the windshield. But you can smell smoke and vomit. "Bleh, I need a toothbrush."

"And a bath."

You scream, searching for your knife. Vincent turns on the dome light, and you point the knife at him. "What are you doing here? Where am I?"

"Crashed against a tree. I found you last night. You've been gone for two days." Your watch confirms he's telling the truth about the date.

It also tells you it's half past noon. And judging by the heat, pretty sunny outside.

All the window covers and blinds you haven't had the need to use before are in place, and the one on your side is dangerously flapping thanks to a small opening on the window, which he probably did so you wouldn't suffocate. Or because of the smell. You close it quickly and fix the cover back in place.

"I'm grateful you still care for my life."

"Vincent…" You sigh. "Is there any water in the back?"

He shakes his head. "I looked for it to see if I could clean you up."

You look down at yourself and almost throw up again. "Oh, gross." You unceremoniously strip as carefully as you can, staying in your underwear, and ball the soiled clothes, pushing them as far in the back as you can. "Since when… you said you found me last night?"

"Earlier today just before dawn, to be exact. I'd have taken you back but we're too far away, there wouldn't have been time."

"Where are we?"

He shrugs. "Somewhat far into the woods. You swerved off the road and came rolling down the hill for a good while before this big, beautiful oak tree interrupted you."

"Does it look bad?"

"Your shoe box is done for." The above light goes out as he says it, as if signaling the fate of the car, and you remain in the dark. 

"Great." Now that you're properly awake, you notice it isn't actually that dark, you can see his shape quite well as he stares ahead.

The silence isn't uncomfortable, just irritating. Isn't he going to say anything? Does he still stand by that bullshit he spewed last… two nights ago? Are you the one who's going to have to bring it up?

"So…"

"We're going. To see Sebastian. If we don't die of sunstroke first."

You take a deep breath. "That was not why I said it and you know it."

For a few minutes, he doesn't say anything, and if you're not going to discuss it, you might as well try to fall asleep again.

"Do you love me?" Well, that plan is out the window now.

"Wha-what? You… you… you don't just ask people that!"

"Why not? I love you."

To say this is not exactly the type of situation you thought you'd be in if you ever got to hear him saying that is an understatement. Your jaw starts tingling when you try to speak, probably because you've been taking so many deep breaths, you think you're hyperventilating. After a moment, you try again. "You'll have to forgive me if I say I don't believe you."

He's still looking straight ahead, but you can see he's frowning. "Why? Because I've had other lovers? Haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, but… you seem to get tired of them pretty quickly." What did he say? The heart is fickle?

"So… how long is love supposed to last?"

You can't believe him. "Forever, Vincent. Love is supposed to last forever." He seems so childish at first, but then you remember who was it that taught him about love. And how big of a lie it was. "Listen, can we talk about this later? My throat is dry and my head is killing me." When he doesn't answer, you get a little annoyed. "Hey."

He doesn't just look at you. His eyes devour you from head to toe and he's breathing hard, panting. And you can only imagine the state you're in. Without even mentioning the smell, your hair is probably a nightmare, your makeup making you look like a mime from hell. And don't forget the black eye. But he looks at you as if you were a centerfold.

"...Can I have your shirt?" He unbuttons it and gives it to you without a word. He's so tall that it goes to your knees. His naked torso does put you in some state also, but nothing like he was. Still is, judging by what you can clearly see under his pants.

Even if he doesn't love you, his desire seems to be big enough to confuse his head. You're not sure you can sleep after such a revelation.

When you wake up, you're not in the car anymore, and you're… bouncing? "Um… hi?"

"Good evening." He's carrying you bridal style, and you can only imagine the scene. You, only in an oversized shirt and shoes in the arms of a pale, shirtless man.

"You can put me down."

"Alright. You smell, and you're heavier than you look."

You snort loud, once again in total disbelief of this person. "This is the first time I hear you joking."

"Who said I'm joking?" He does put you down, and you walk beside him, still laughing and without any idea where you are.

You look back. "What about the car?" You can still see it in the distance, not that far into the tree, just enough to have ruined the engine. You're lucky not to have a single scratch.

"I've locked it. We can go back for whatever's inside later." He takes a deep breath. "Listen. I get... irrational when it comes to Sebastian. We never got along, not even when we were kids. Which is why I've kept my distance from him. And our incompatibility only made us drift further and further apart from each other with ever year. Every decade. Before that night he showed up at my house, I hadn't seen him in well over fifteen years."

"But..."

"But... we're still going. I... I won't let him cloud my judgement like that again."

You suppose that's as close of an apology you'll get, and you're fine with it, you'd honestly didn't even think he'd say as much.

After that, you walk mostly in silence in the cold evening, and when he sees you shivering, he offers to pick you up again. Since when was he this chivalrous? But you refuse his offer, on the account of you being too heavy and all. He just laughs, and you have no idea what's going on.

*

Grace can't stop pointing from him to you. "Okay, you're gonna have to tell us this story."

You sigh. "Please. I need water. And toothpaste. And… and clothes and a bath. Please."

"Of course, I'm sorry." You let her help you out, devoid of energy to do much more than just sit in the bathtub and let it wash this entire day away. The pastel purple shirt with a Count Dracula holding a book and the words, 'My favorite thing to sink my teeth into' makes you smile. Something tells you it's Tony's, and when Vincent sees you wearing something that's such a contrast to everything he's seen you wearing so far, he even does a double take. 

Later in the night, you and Grace plant Vincent's orange tree in her own little orchard, and when you tell her where it came from, the look in her eyes tells you that you really can, in fact, trust her.

"Listen, if you ever need- if one of you-" Vincent casually calls you, using what he calls blood control.

He whispers in your ear. "It's best if you don't." He doesn't use the control as he says this, making it only a suggestion.

"How did you know-"

His hand on your face is so gentle you don't mind the interruption. "You're kind. You're too kind for the likes of people like us. Keep it to yourself. If they ever need it, I'll know. I just told them the same story I gave Sebastian. I never told them I died."

"...Fine."

"I don't like it, for the record. Using that on you. It will pass, but it is a vile power."

You had no idea he felt that way. "I'll try not to… make you have to use it." You close your eyes and lie your head on his chest. "You're not… the worst person ever."

His chest rumbles in quiet laugh, and he starts speaking, but Grace interrupts.

"Oh? Have we really kissed and made up then? Are you unconditionally and irrevocably-"

"Don't. Please don't." That's a trainwreck you're only too happy to derail.

A bat flies around a little in front of you, and then Tony's there again. "Found him." He grabs a robe that's hanging from the wall and slides into it. "He has places all over Romania, but he's staying in some secluded castle for the moment, middle of nowhere. I'll write down the directions for you." He eyes you up and down and says with a wink: "Nice shirt!"

"...You're a bat too? What else? Can you turn into like, a frog? A goat? A dragon?"

He just shakes a finger at you. "Secrets of the trade, my dear. Need to know only."

"And by him, do you mean Sebastian? You were looking for him? Why don't you guys use cell phones?"

"Well, after our friend Vincent here deeply regretted his harsh words-" Vincent slaps him over the head. "Ow. I set out to find him. And Sebastian is a hard man to find, don't think he just gives away his number to mere mor-, uh, immortals."

"Well, you know what they say." Paul's voice surprises you, because you had no idea he was home.

Grace smiles, rolling her eyes. "What, Paul? What do they say?"

"A mere mortal… shuffles not their own coil."

You have no idea who says that, and what it means.

"Did you get it? Is it like I asked?" Vincent sounds almost… giddy.

"See for yourself." Paul hands him a set of keys and Vincent all but drags you to the front yard.

The monstrosity is at least twice as big as your car, and it looks like something a government agent would drive. All windows are tinted, including the windshield. 

"V8, baby. Carbon body, alloy wheels, 2% ceramic tint. Should let you drive during the day no problem. I'm almost getting one for myself."

"It's perfect." Vincent looks at you. "This is a car." You had no idea he was this enthusiastic about cars.

"No, this is a fucking boat! Do you even drive? Because I don't know if I can handle something this big." A very, very intrusive thought crosses your mind, and from the way both Grace and Paul are looking into nothing, scratching their heads and clearing their throats, you can tell it crossed theirs too. Only Tony smiles innocently, looking a little lost. 

Vincent shrugs. "I've crashed a few vehicles here and there. Broke my arm once."

Resignedly, you take the keys from his hands. "At least I have the excuse that I was drunk."

"Wait. You guys can't go now!" Grace takes the keys from your hands and gives them back to Vincent. "I need to do a protection spell on you. On you both, actually. You do know where you're going, right?"

Tony raises a finger in the air, as if he just had a great idea. "You guys should take us to be your muscle, the car is big enough. C'mon, it would be like an adventure. Like, y'know like Lord of the… of the Flies!"

You frown at him. "...Not where I thought you were going with that."

Vincent glares at Grace. "Well, can't you do it now?"

"No, I have to gather the ingredients. Now come on, you can leave at tomorrow's sunset."

*

"Is your charisma natural or part of your abilities?" You're so far on the edge of the couch that you're almost falling.

"How do you mean?"

"Well… Grace said you left her for dead. And now she's in the backyard picking up stuff to make you a protection spell. So, y'know, I was just wondering."

"I didn't 'leave her for dead', she had plenty of time to run back inside before dawn, and she did. It was a long time ago, and we are very resilient."

"Hm. What about Paul?"

He sighs. "Paul knew it was just a fling, I doubt he's ever held any grudges. Are you scared of me?"

He catches you by surprise with the abrupt change of subject. "What? No."

"Then why are you so far away?"

"Listen." You get infinitesimally closer. "I don't know if this will be bad for your ego, but there has never been any moment since I met you that I was ever afraid of you." You lower your voice to a whisper. "But Grace is right outside, and since it's almost dawn, she'll come back at any moment, and I don't want her walking in on… anything. We are in the middle of their living room. And judging from the noise, Paul and Tony are still up and playing video games. So keep your pointy claws to yourself tonight."

"...Fine." He turns away and moves to the other edge of the couch.

He's sulking. Vincent, the master vampire, heart-breaker extraordinaire, is sulking.

"I mean, it's not like I don't want to touch you, but…"

"No, I understand. Good night."

He is not going to guilt trip you. He won't. You know this is what he's doing, so it's not going to work.

…

Sighing in disappointment at your own weakness, you get closer to him. "You're such an asshole." You pull on his arm so he'll turn towards you.

"What? I'm respecting your wishes."

"Yeah, you can cut it out now. The whole manipulation thing does not look good on you."

He smiles, running a hand over your face and neck. "I was so wrong about you. Unremarkable? You're anything but. You're clever. Astute. And you have your own strengths too."

"Yeah, well…" You pull on his arm until he's halfway on top of you. "You're clearly not one of them." You kiss him softly, the knowledge that neither of you will want to stop if it goes too far sending a most definitely welcoming shiver down your spine.

The back door opens. "I'm not looking. I'm not looking. Carry on, kids." Grace traverses the room quickly, holding a basket by her side, while Vincent rests his head on your chest. He smiles at you after she leaves.

"You were clearly right. We might as well sleep, it's a long drive."

Now you're the one who wants to sulk, but you know you really should sleep. But you don't let him get back to his side, instead keeping his head on your chest, fondling his hair until his breathing turns deep and slow.

*

"This will make you immune to anyone trying to control you, unless you look them in the eye. Lasts ten days." Grace rubs something on your forehead and has you drink from a crystal glass, and it tastes surprisingly good. You were wondering what you were going to do if a vampire simply used their powers to order you to take off the pendant. "And Vincent," she rubs it on his cheeks and hands. "This will allow you to use some persuasion without draining your own energy, but only on humans. It will also give you an aura of power, making it seem to anyone you're at least thrice as strong." He drinks it too, and something about the word 'aura' makes you smile, although you're not quite sure why. "Lasts five days. It's all I can do for you."

"Thanks Grace, for everything." You hug her tight, then Paul and Tony.

As you start the car, you glance at Vincent, who looks particularly content with the amount of space he'll have to stretch as much as he wants to. "Guess you can't deny that you do, in fact, have friends now."

He sighs, but the corners of his mouth do turn up. "And just like that, the air of mystery, solitude and superiority I've been cultivating for decades is shot to hell. My reputation has taken quite a plunge."

You smile too. "Aw, I'm happy for you!"

The new car is surprisingly smooth on the road, the seats plush and absurdly comfortable. But it will take you a while to admit out loud that it is much better than your old one. You do stop by the crash site to transfer the contents of the trunk and everything else you need.

"So, we just abandon it?"

Vincent shrugs. "It's so far into the woods no one's going to find it. Not in a town this small. Just let nature claim it."

You nod and pat the trunk. "See ya, old girl."

3

You were weary about driving during the day, but Vincent assured you it would be okay, it's specifically why he asked for such dark window tint. But you still stick to mostly driving at night, there's less traffic, and you really don't want to hazard him being wrong.

You try to pay for the room this time, but he decides to test Grace's spell before you can stop him, and you almost slap him. But it goes well, and as the clerk starts to wake up from his haze, he can't keep his eyes off of Vincent, shaking a bit as he hands you the key. It makes you grin when you imagine what kind of vision the man is seeing in his head as he looks at him. A boxer? A bodybuilder? Or he just sees him the way he is and inanely ponders about how that tall, yet slender man is the most powerful creature he's ever seen? 

While you shower, you think about your decision and wonder what he'll think of it. But when you come out and he's in bed already, shirt hanging on a chair, you almost go back on it. "I have a request." You lie down beside him. "Can we wait? Until you're better? Because I wanted it to be just like that morning, but I can't just walk around all bruised and scratched up. Sure, they'll look at me funny, but that part I'm used to. But everyone's gonna think I'm dating some abusive asshole, and I can't have that." The moment you realize you just said, 'dating', you choke on nothing, already thinking on what to say to fix it.

But he just pulls on your arm so you'll wrap it around his waist and runs the back of his fingers over your face. "I was barely awake that morning. You have seen nothing yet." And with that promise and all its implications on your mind, this time it does take you a long time to fall asleep.

*

Twice you are stopped, because of the non-regulation tint, you imagine, and both times Vincent just glances at the officer and he lets you go. It is a very helpful spell, especially since you were not looking forward to those tickets.

You grab the map Tony made you, trying to make sense of it.

"What does it say?"

You study it a little. There's a drawing of what looks like a castle over a hill, surrounded by trees and a nearby lake. "It's kind of like this place, but there's no lake here. I think it's on the other side."

He sighs. "Why couldn't he have used an actual map?"

"Well, he said it actually wasn't on the map. It's not any of the famous ones, which I think are just museums now, for tourists?" You watch the landscape dreamily. "Do you think we could visit Bucharest afterwards? I've always wanted to."

Vincent watches the castle you just passed. "Sure. But these… I just don't see the appeal, living in a place this big when all I need is a bed. Sebastian was always… excessive."

"Go ahead and call him extra. But um, I guess it does look kinda cool? And it has a nice view."

He glances at you. "Is it where you want to live?"

"Oh, no, no. I also think it's too big. A place like your house would work just fine for me. Even that I think it's too much, actually."

He takes the map, turning it one side then the other. "Turn here."

"Into… the forest?"

"Supposedly there's a path up ahead." It's late afternoon, so it's still bright enough that you're not afraid of getting lost, so you follow his instructions. "Where did you live?"

"I, uh…" You thought you wouldn't have to talk about it. "Just a small place, bed and a toilet. Couldn't afford much."

"Mobile home?" You nod quickly, shame creeping up your face. "I can only imagine how clean and tidy it was, after all you did for my house. Too bad it was all for nothing."

"It wasn't. Even if it was just for a short while, at least you got to see it kind of like what it used to look like."

You drive in silence for a while, and just as you're about to ask him for directions, he touches your hand softly. "Thank you." His voice just as soft.

You'd admit it, all your feelings for him if he asked again right now.

"You're welcome."

"Look." He points at a lake in the distance and a white structure atop of a hill that you can only imagine is your destination.

The moment you start approaching the castle, it's like the atmosphere changes, becomes more oppressive, and you feel like you're going straight to the final boss in an RPG, but your character is level 1. "Any last minute advice?"

"Sure, turn around and go back to Grace's. I'll call you when we're done."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Oh, you're being funny again. That's nice."

He sighs. "I could order you to. But you know I won't."

"I wouldn't forgive you if you did."

"Just… don't go anywhere alone with him. Don't tell him you're a necromancer. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I say he is dangerous. He was fine at first, but something changed after he moved here. Bad company, I imagine. And… there's something else too." He looks away, seemingly unwilling to continue, but you wait patiently. "I lied to you. She wasn't the one who turned him. I did. She… wanted to test to see if I had the ability, and told me to choose between him and Christopher. Of course I chose him. I thought I was protecting Christopher, but in the end it was all in vain."

"But… she made you do it, it's not like it was your fault."

"Well, he holds a grudge regardless. And do you know the reason? He can't turn others, and he thinks if she had been the one to bite him, that he would be able to, like me. But that's not how it works. You… you don't know what's going to happen. You don't inherit the traits of your sire, it's all random. Tony's the only person I've turned that can transform. And there was a girl once who could create illusions, I've never seen anything like that afterwards. I imagine it could be related to your personality. Or maybe your physiology. I don't know. I honestly don't know." Just as the sun sets, he takes your face in his hands. "If something happens to me, go back to them. They'll look after you. Even if you don't want to stay with them, they'll help you out."

"But I-"

"Promise me. Promise me this one thing."

"...Okay." He kisses you with such fervor that you moan a little, blushing when you realize you've done so.

"Don't look in his eyes, don't forget." He opens the door and you do the same.

"I won't."

The door to the castle has a knocker, but it also has security cameras. Vincent examines both. He points at the knocker. "Silver. His traps aren't only to keep humans out, it seems." Just as you're about to use it, the door opens.

And it's an actual butler. At least he seems to be, judging by how he's dressed. He makes way for the both of you. "Come in. Right this way, please." He leads you into some brightly lit hallways, then dark ones. You take Vincent's hand for these, weary someone or something might separate you. The butler finally leaves you in a big, round library. "Master will be with you in a moment." With that, he leaves.

There are so many bookshelves that it makes you wonder how anyone would have time to read all that. "I want to laugh but… it seems all humor has left my body."

"If he brings blood in a teacup, I might." You do laugh then, but stop quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. And as much as you want to get this over with as soon as possible, you still kind of hope it's just the butler with the cups of blood.

But it's not the butler. "Ah, my dear brother and the Re-Animator. I called you Renfield, when really you're more of a Herbert, aren't you? To what do I owe the honor of such esteemed guests?"

He… knows?

Before either of you can speak, he continues. "You think you fooled me that night? I know what it's like to feel one of my beloved brothers die. You were gone. For a few minutes you were gone. And then you were back. What conclusion did you want me to draw other than you died and someone brought you back? And I see you two that night, being all friendly and domestic… it wasn't exactly difficult to put two and two together." He crosses his arms. "Who killed you, by the way? It must have been a powerful hunter of beasts."

Vincent sighs. "It was a girl. I was careless."

"Hm. And where's she?"

He shrugs. "Gone."

"And that's where you come in." He turns towards you, and you quickly avert your eyes, looking down. "Did your hocus pocus and… brought him back. Simple as that."

"That's right."

"Interesting. And how does it work?" He gets closer, and your eyes remain on the floor.

"I… well…"

"Aren't you going to ask what we're doing here, Sebastian?" Vincent is suddenly beside you.

"What do you mean? I was thinking you wanted revenge against this girl, who's apparently so powerful you couldn't do it on your own."

"I couldn't care less about her. But I've run into a certain… predicament. I got silver poisoning."

Sebastian huffs. "What? How? The girl?"

You decide to take that one. "No, it was me. He did it to save me." His eyes are on you. You can feel him, trying to peek into your brain, trying to get in. You don't know if he's just trying to get you to tell the whole story or what, but you do so anyway. "I was dying, so he cut himself with my piercing so I could have some of his blood. But it was a silver earring. And it infected his neck."

"His neck? Why-" He thankfully turns his eyes back to Vincent. "Why didn't you cut your arm? That way all you had to do to heal was cut it off and wait for a new one to grow."

"Because… damn you, Sebastian. Get out of my head, you know it doesn't work."

"I was wondering why you were about to lie to me. I didn't pry much that night out of respect, because it was your home. But you're here now, and you're going to tell me everything. You know, out of respect. And by the way, where is all that power coming from? Because I know you're not that strong."

"It's a spell. A witch made me a potion and I drank it." Well, it's not a lie. "And…" he sighs. "I didn't think it would work anyway. The blood transfusion. So I wanted it at least to have an… intimate moment, at the end."

"Aww, you're so soft it's giving me nausea." You can't imagine how embarrassing this might be for him to admit it. But the one who's blushing is you.

Sebastian examines Vincent's neck wound for a while. "Well, then, here's what I propose. Why don't we cut your head off, Vincent, right below the infected gash. That way a new one can grow, and you'll be all fine and dandy again."

You almost choke at the absurdity of his words. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Absolutely not!" You look him in the eyes, then quickly avert your gaze to the floor.

"Why is it that you're so demure? It doesn't go with that mouth of yours. Are you trying to hide that black eye? Did he do this?" You feel him peering into your head again. When you don't say anything else, he grabs your chin so you'll look at him, but you close your eyes at the last moment. "Tell me!"

It lasts only a second, then he's gone. When you open your eyes, Vincent has Sebastian's arm in his grasp, pushing him against a bookshelf and choking him with his other hand. A couple of people rush into the room, security guards apparently, holding what seems to be silver-studded batons, but you could be wrong. Because they're clearly vampires too. Then you notice they're wearing gloves.

"Down, boys. It's just my little brother being a pest. Oh no, wait. I'm the little brother. I'm always forgetting that." He dismisses them with his unrestrained hand, and Vincent lets go of his throat. "Fine. I was kidding about the decapitation. That would obviously kill you. But I do know a way. Follow me." Vincent releases his arm, and you both follow him. More dark hallways and sets of stairs. Down, always down. 

After a while, you reach what seems to be a laboratory, clean and brightly lit. A vampire sits in a corner, smoking, an IV strapped to his arm. His leg on a chain that goes into the ground. You can't help but ask. "Who's that?"

"That's ah, Turner. Hey, Turner."

'Turner' flips him off. He stops next to a table full of creatures in jars, some of which you have never even seen. "Our sire had the right idea. She wanted to train us, to have enough of us so we could assert our dominance in the world."

"That's what you got out of it? Because to me, it seemed all she wanted to do was feed and fuck."

You look at Vincent, flabbergasted, because it's the first time you hear him using such language. Sebastian just smiles at him. "I guess our relationships were different. You were clearly her boytoy. But I was her soldier. And I intend to honor her legacy."

"She killed Christopher!"

Sebastian frowns. "I thought it was the other way around, Vincent."

Vincent actually growls. "If she hadn't bitten him-"

"He would have died. Didn't you know he was sick?"

"...What?" He's so taken aback that he shrinks a little, shoulders hunching and hands closing around his elbows.

"I found some documents. Medical exams and whatnot. Something to do with his lungs. It's a miracle he lasted that long, actually."

"...You told her to bite him." His voice is so muted you wouldn't have heard him if you weren't standing right beside him.

"I have many more guards down here, so keep your cool, I don't know if I can call them all back fast enough. But it was for his own good. She poisoned you too much with her blood, that's why you couldn't see it."

You take Vincent's hand on both of yours and he looks at you, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

"Ours wasn't the only house, you know. She had many others. And I've spoken to some of her other… children."

This time it's Vincent's hand that clutches yours, as if he's trying to hold back from doing something hasty. "Didn't you say you knew a way? To heal the silver infection?"

"We're getting there, we're getting there. Look. All my mad scientists. Dr. Brown, Dr. Doom, Dr. Octavius, Dr. Frankenstein… We've been studying it for a while now." He grabs a jar from a table where all the doctors, which clearly sport name tags with their actual names, are huddled around. 

There is a putrid, rotted hand inside.

"Yeah, that's mine." You immediately look at his arms, but he still has both hands. It's also when you notice he doesn't have claws like Vincent. You wish you had paid attention to Turner's hands. "It got cut off by a silver sword. Then I did that thing I said. I cut the stump further with a regular steel sword, and it grew back, free of poison. That one started necrosing pretty fast, though. How long did you say you cut yourself with the piercing?"

Vincent's still looking at the hand, so you answer him. "About twelve days ago."

"Oh, good, we have time then. That thing took about twenty days to get like that."

"Twenty…" Your hands squeeze Vincent's. "What do we do?"

"It's simple. Didn't you hear me calling all the doctors names? I'm clearly missing one. Dr. West." He looks at you with a smile that is nothing if not nefarious. "So here's the deal. We can't do it. Yet. But… we're close, really close, and with all of you together, I'm sure we can find a cure. And we have a whole week to work on it."

"Okay." You only realize you were staring at him after Vincent pulls your head to his chest. But it's too late. It doesn't make much sense, because you would have accepted anyway. Not that you know what you could possibly bring to the table. You have zero knowledge in anything medical related, or biological… and your head is going numb. You think Vin- who? someone is calling your name, but you can't really say for sure. All you can hear is Sebastian.

*

There's a man strapped to a table. He's really handsome. But pale, too pale. He tries to raise his hand in your direction, but can't due to the straps. And you want to touch him, he makes your heart hurt, and you don't know why. But the voice in your head reminds you that's not what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to collect tissue from his neck, the wound black and festering. It stinks, but you don't care, you just feel so bad for him.

*

You give your own blood too, and you do spells in both creatures and body parts. It doesn't seem to work very well with the body parts, but Franky helps you out with that. He says his name isn't Franky, but that's all you can call him.

*

The pale man is even paler now, and the wound on his neck looks much worse. You think you're crying, but you keep moving towards him, until someone grabs both your arms, and it's only after some struggle that they get you to open your hand, and the scalpel drops to the floor.

*

You're strapped to a table.

*

The black hand moves.

*

The man is gone from the table, but there's a black stain around the area where his neck used to be.

* 

You cry, and more Latin spews from your lips.

*

He's watching you. Watching you sleep. You know that. You know if you open your eyes, you'll see him, and everything will be okay. But you can't open them, it's like they're stitched together. Your mouth feels the same way. But your hands are free. You try to pry them open, but nothing works. Then you reach for your neck and feel something there. It's round. A pendant? 

The owl. The owl and the moon. 

You open your eyes, but there's no one there.

*

You're on a hill, there's a fight going on down there, it seems to be a man and a woman, but you're too far away to tell. Then you realize you've been following him, because you want something from him. You didn't feel anything for him then. You just wanted the one thing. But now you do, and when the girl impales him with the stake, you feel it in your own heart.

"Vincent!"

"Quiet, you're going to wake everyone up."

He's there. He's sitting right there, right beside you. Why isn't he in bed with you? Oh, it's a stretcher, not a bed. You reach to him, but can't move your hands. "Why am I tied up?"

"You were clawing at your mouth and eyes. I did it so you wouldn't hurt yourself." He moves as he speaks, untying the restraints, and the moment he does, your arms lock around him.

"I… I thought you were dead."

He chuckles. "Well, you almost tried to kill me once, but it's okay, I won't hold it against you since you were high out of your mind. Well, high on whatever Sebastian's persuasion is."

"I tried to… wait. Did…" You push him away from you so you can look at his neck. There is nothing, no bandage, no scar. His neck is tantalizing and irresistible and unmarred, just like it was before. "We… we did it?"

He nods. "Sebastian has more knowledge now than he did before. I don't know how bad this could be. But it doesn't matter. Something to worry about some other time. He's gone for now, said we could stay for as long as we wanted, but I wouldn't like another minute in here." You remember very vaguely of your time at the lab. It makes you feel guilty that you could possibly have aided someone's perverse experiments. "Let's go." He starts to get up and pull you with him, but you remain on the stretcher.

"Wait. Shouldn't we do something? How about that Turner guy? Do we release him? Do you think he's using him to… y'know…"

"What? What do you suppose we do? Rescue the poor soul? We don't even know who he is. He could be better off locked away for all we know."

"But… but we… I don't know. Maybe we could try to find out what his plans are? Try to thwart them?"

"Thwart them?" He smiles unamused. "This isn't an espionage movie, and we're no heroes. What we can do is keep an eye out for him, there's no point in acting blindly."

"...You haven't felt it, have you? You said his power doesn't work on you?"

"He has tried it, and I can feel him digging in, but no. None of our powers work on the other. To each other, we're just regular people." He has given up trying to get you to follow him, but hasn't sat back down.

"It's… dangerous. I can still feel it. I can still…" You can hear a voice in your head. StayStayStayStayStay. It's not quite Sebastian's, but it's somewhat similar. It's weaker, but at the same time stronger, because it's making you want to stay.

"I'm sorry." This time, Vincent does sit down beside you. "That you had to go through that. But there's no point in dwelling here anymore. Let's get as far as we can from here."

Stay.

Your head starts to muddle. "I… I have to stay."

He frowns. "What? Why?"

You want to keep helping on the experiments.

"I want to… keep helping on the experiments…"

"What? No, that's insane, why are you…" You don't hear the rest of his words with how loud the voice is..

You have a gift, and you want to share it for the greater good.

"I want to… I… to share my… gift?"

He glowers at you. "Who is inside your head?"

Grace's spell is still in place. This is all you.

"No one, Grace's spell is still in place. This is all me."

He continues glaring at you, and you can only imagine he's trying to get inside your head too. "Tell me the truth."

Your mind gets even muddier, but nothing comes out of your mouth. His blood control has been broken.

Let him go. The truth is you know he's not right for you. And you lied to him, you do in fact want to live in a castle. This one.

"You… we shouldn't be together…You should go. That is the truth. I want... I want to live here." The words feel disgusting in your mouth, and your heart feels like it's physically breaking. It only worsens when you look at his face.

You've never seen him make such a face. Such a betrayed face.

That's right. He'll be okay, you've done your part. Let him go. You don't want to be with him. Time to say goodbye.

You let go of him. "You're okay now, I've done my part, but… I don't want to be with you anymore. Goodbye." Something keeps your tears from falling, but your eyes are burning.

"...I see." He stands up again and starts walking away. That in itself already feels terrible and wrong. But there's something else. Something else that's wrong. 

Not knowing what to do, you grip the pendant with both hands. The grasp of that voice vanishes for a moment and you stand up, walking around slowly, head still jumbled, and you look for him, but he's gone already. Your heart is on the floor. You try to follow, but the place is a maze, hallways that lead nowhere, rooms full of people sleeping. 

Something's wrong.

"Vincent!" 

You'll wake everyone up. You don't care. Finally, you see light up ahead and you follow it, someone must still be up. It's such a bright light. You hope you're not back at the lab. No, the lab lights are white, this one is more yellow, and brighter. Way brighter. And warm. "No." You look at your watch. 5:58 a.m.

You step into the sunlight and see him outside. He's walking away from the castle, closer and closer to where the shadow of it ends and there's nothing but sunlight. "VIN-"

STAY

The pendant touches your hand and you grab it. "NO! FUCK OFF!" You jump out the window, trying to roll as you fall so you won't break anything, and when you look up, he's right there, and so is the sun. "Vincent!"

He turns around just as the sun hits his face, and you try to stumble to your feet, but your legs aren't working, but you have to pull him away, away from the sun, you have to, you have…

But the sun is already shining all over him, and he's turning to dust, getting smaller, vanishing… your heart is turning to dust too, he…

He's kneeling beside you. "What's wrong with you?"

"You… you're okay. You're okay. You're okay. You're… how, how are you okay?"

"I thought you wanted me gone?"

"No! Never! There was something. I don't know. Something in my head. Telling me awful things. Please let's get out of the sun."

His face softens, and he stands up slowly. "Come on."

"I… can't move."

"What? It doesn't seem like it was such a big fall. You're probably just in shock." He tries to pick you up, but fails, then he sits down in the shade of a tree.

"What-"

"Shh. In a moment."

You just nod and watch him. He's not dead, that's all it matters. When clouds cover the sun for a moment, he picks you up, still with a bit of trouble. You think about joking about being too heavy, but there's no mood for that.

Soon you reach the car. You can feel some movement returning to your legs when he puts you in the driver's seat and gets to his side, closing both doors.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I said those things. There was a voice like Sebastian's making me say it. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it. And I'm sorry I tried to kill you."

He watches you for a long time, then rests his forehead on yours. "It's fine. It's probably that thing. He said it was harmless, but… we should really get as far away from here as possible. Are your legs okay now?"

You try to move, and they do, but it still feels too weak. "Not really. But Vincent… it knew about Grace's spell. When I told you it was still in place, it was the voice who reminded me of that. It knows about it… and the spell doesn't work on it."

"I will talk to Sebastian about it. But we are leaving now, although I should warn you. Once again, we might not survive." He picks you up again and basically throws you in the back seat. Then he moves to the driver seat and turns the key, looking at the pedals. "I don't even know which one is the brakes."

"Oh, no." You cover your face with your hands, but the car seems to be moving just fine. "Wait. What thing? And you haven't told me how you haven't… disappeared yet."

"You said you trusted me, right? Then don't ask, you don't want to know. We won't ever have to deal with it again, since we're going far, far away. Where do you want to go? Bucharest?"

"Anywhere, anywhere is fine. Vincent, please."

"I… I can stand it. For a while, at least. I told you there are people with rare powers. I can stand it. Can barely move in it, though, and it hurts. And it makes me powerless for a while. I can feel it burning. I just… don't."

You want to yell. You want to scream on his face. Why didn't he tell you? But you don't. Something in his voice… "Are you embarrassed of it?"

"Of course! It's a weakness, not a power! It doesn't do me any good. When I stepped into it and realized I wasn't burning, I wanted to laugh at first. Then it did start to burn. Smoke actually started to rise from me, and I changed my mind. I dragged myself back to the shadow until I could move. So I suppose if I stay in it long enough…"

You open your mouth then close it again, realizing what he just said. He walked into the sun, willingly. Thinking he would turn to dust.

You don't know what he sees when he looks at you through the rear view mirror, but his voice is soft. "It was a long time ago."

You can't stand being in the back seat anymore. "Pull over." He does so without a word, and your legs are well enough that you can open the back door and walk to the front. You sit beside him, a hard fit, but when he tries to go to the passenger seat, you don't let him. Then you hold him so tight he actually gasps a little. "It's okay." You breathe him in. "You're okay. Everything is okay."

He whispers something in your ear, and you revel in the elation it brings you. "Do you believe me now?"

You take a deep breath, and it takes you so long to exhale that you can't say how long you've been holding it. "Yeah. I love you too. So much you wouldn't believe it."

*

You don't know much about stars, but you can tell the hotel has five of them. The receptionist watches you approach the counter with visible disgust. Then Vincent does his thing, and you grab the keycard.

"There's a jacuzzi! I've always wanted to try it. Can you call room service?"

"Sure. What would you like as your last meal?"

*

It hurts much more than you thought it would, but you try not to squirm too much. You just hold his head in place, fingers splaying in his hair as he sucks the life out of you.

*

Both the pain and the hunger are unbelievable, and he gives you his arm to suck on, warning you it's not going to really ease the pain, only help you heal faster. You black out, and when you wake up, there's someone else in the room. A zombie? No, just a girl. She's holding your knife, and there's a gash in her wrist. "I won't let you get too much. You're not going to kill her." He brings the girl's arm to your mouth and you suck, you couldn't care less if she died, you just want to feed. It tastes good, so good. Delicious. More. More. More.

But he's pulling her away from you, and you whimper, trying to follow. But once again, you're restrained.

"Shh, it's okay. I brought more." You manage to look around, and there's another girl and two boys, all zombie-like in their expressions. You feel loved.

*

Vampires do go to the bathroom. But only number one.

*

"...They don't remember?"

"They remember what I want them to remember. Those two couples? Made a suicide pact all together, but regretted it last minute."

"I… I didn't even care if she lived or died. But I do. I do now. Is she okay?"

"They all are. And it's part of the initial hunger. Next time you'll be aware enough already."

*

You feel more vain than you ever did looking in the mirror. "Huh. I don't think I need makeup anymore."

*

You want to make it special, something you'll both always remember. An idea strikes you, and you drag him to the car. You take off your clothes, staying only in your underwear. "Much more space, no vomit, no sunlight."

The effect is almost immediate… you can see it in his pants. "I'm not sure if any of that would have been enough to stop me, to be honest."

"Ew." He's still watching you voraciously. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He pounces.

Mouth on yours hungrier than ever before, claws making short work of what little you were wearing. Then he sits back on his seat and pulls you onto his lap. You kiss him just as he enters you, and you moan into his mouth, legs parting to get more of him. Then his teeth are on your neck and his nails all over you. You barely manage to pant your desires. "Harder… More…"

"Which?"

"...All of it."

He makes a feral noise that has you swooning. "Perfect is not nearly a good enough word to describe you."

You look at your arms and almost feel bad for bleeding all over the upholstery. Almost.

He speeds up, hands on your hips gripping so tight as he brings you down on him over and over that you're sure those marks will take longer to heal than the scratches. You die in his arms, the best death of your life, and he follows soon after.

When your breathing starts going back to normal, you kiss his neck and return to your seat so you can smoke, and when you look down at yourself, still panting a little, you can see the scratches have already started to heal. "Aw, man."

He chuckles. "Really? I won't feel bad for you next time, then."

"Oh? And when is next time?"

He's still smiling, gloriously naked and beautiful, and you wonder when was it that he took off his clothes. Then you see his pants are still around his ankles, and his shirt is on the floor of the car, buttons scattered all over. Your dead heart has never beaten harder. "Have mercy, I'm an old man. Give me at least five minutes."

Being a vampire fucks.

"That long? Maybe there's something I can do to help speed up the process." Cigarettes completely gone from your mind, in a moment you're between his legs, once again thankful for such a spacious car, and the gesture alone is enough to get a decent reaction out of him. You don't dawdle too much, or at all, taking him in your mouth as far as you can, almost choking, then going further and further, until he pulls you away.

"Okay, that did it."

You grin, returning to your seat. "Harder."

"...I haven't even started yet."

"Why not?"

Something snaps underneath you. You're pretty sure the poor car seat isn't supposed to recline that fast and without using the handle. Now the car's going to need both a wash and a mechanic.

He bites so hard, it's almost like he wants to turn you again. You moan your appreciation and try to move against him, not that the position helps much. You almost regret not settling for the bed. One of your feet ends up on the ceiling, while the other hits the horn.

"Oops. Do you think someone's gonna come?"

"You and me, hopefully."

You laugh and kiss him again.

*

"Let me try it, I think I can do it."

"Not with that attitude, you can't."

"What?"

"What? The movie we just saw last week? With the green old man? Do or do not, there is no try."

You grin. "Never in a million years did I ever think I'd hear you quoting Star Wars. Alright, I'll do it." You look the realtor in the eyes, focusing hard. Give me the key, all the documents are signed, everything is paid for.

Her eyes go out of focus for a moment, but then she just shakes her head with a frown. "What just-"

Vincent does it with a glance. She hands him the key and leaves.

"Showoff."

He kisses your head. "It's okay, you can try it on the car guy when we go pick it up. It just takes a little practice." The house isn't big, but there's a mantel in the living room, and you place the box with the pendant. It's a little crooked since you had to handle it with a piece of cloth, but it looks good. There's catnip in the garden, which you hope will bring many of your favorite creatures for a visit. There's also a place perfect for an orange tree. You hope it hasn't grown enough that it won't fit in the car. But by the time you decide to go pick it up, Grace tells you it's grown so much it would be dangerous to uproot it. She has a new sapling ready for you on your next visit.

*

Your hand still hurts where the sun touched it. Vincent chides you, but you had to know. You just had to know.

*

"I don't know, guys. It's not the same thing." Grace removes her sarong and spreads it over the sand so she can sit on it.

"Why, just because you can't tan? You can moonbathe, isn't it better? No burnt skin, no need for lotion."

She shrugs. "Moonbathing does make my spells stronger. Alright, where's the picnic basket?"

"Oh, I have it." Tony brings the picnic basket, a beach ball, snorkels, flippers and many other things you had no idea were in the car.

The picnic consists of jello blood cubes, blood popsicles, just plain old blood in a jug of juice and a watermelon. Which was Paul's idea.

"We can hit it with a baseball bat. I saw it in an anime."

"Why, Paul? Why?" Vincent rubs his face.

"For fun, you curmudgeon. Fun. Still know what that is?"

"Fine, but don't blame me if I accidentally hit your head instead." He doesn't, but the watermelon explodes with the first hit, so that's an activity that ends too quickly.

Later when everyone's too tired from playing and it's just the two of you by the fireplace, you can't hide a satisfied smile. It went great, and everybody seemed to have a good time.

"Why the beach, though?" he asks between kisses on your neck and ear.

"Well… it's been a year today. I wanted to celebrate, then I remembered something Grace said once, and I thought, why not, y'know? We're allowed to have fun at the beach or wherever the hell we please. To hell with the sun, who needs that stupid ball of fire."

There has been no news on Sebastian, whatever he's planning, if he is planning, none of you heard a thing. Besides, is it even your job to… what? Stop him? Keep him in line? Defeat him? You snort. If it comes down to it… when the time comes…

"I know what you are thinking." You eye him suspiciously. "No, I haven't secretly had telepathy this whole time, I just know you. And I really don't think you should worry all that much. He's a procrastinator. Whether he plans to gather an army to, I don't know, lead the 21st century vampire uprising against the world or he just wants to increase his harem size, it will take a while either way. And he'll end up doing neither."

"... Harem?"

"I used to be like him, in a way."

"Harem?"

"No!" He laughs and pushes you away, then immediately brings you back. "I looked for someone too, someone who would be by my side. Someone strong, someone… perfect." He takes your face in his hands. "But then you came along and threw a wrench right in the middle of that plan."

"Um… y'know, I think we should try to see if you would survive that decapitation after all." You put your hands around his neck, but the sensation of his pulse under your fingers and the expression in his eyes are enough to assuage you. "Asshole." You kiss his neck and look around. Your friends, something you've never had much of in your life. Grace bathing in the moonlight, even wearing sunglasses (moonglasses?), Paul apparently sleeping while Tony buries him up in the cold sand. Then your eyes return to him. Your lover. The person who hung the moon and the stars. You really couldn't ask for anything more. "I love it, you know? Love this life. Thank you for giving it to me."

He lies down on the sand and pulls you on top of him. "You know, I think that should be my line."

LeEnd

(some notes)

I should say that in my canon Cora can endure the sun because her transformation isn't complete, and to be honest I'm unsure if she defeated the 'curse' by the end or not. And her mother can kinda stand it? idk, her mom's probably a ghoul, who cares about her bleh

(Also they were in Europe all along?? Even though the campers in the film all seemed to be American?? What? Uh... tourists.) But yeah, I know it was filmed in California but it kinda gave me a European feel. Who cares, not important.

Also2 I know I set up some shit with Sebastian and his... thing, whatever that might be, but I don't think there will be a part 3. It's not impossible, but it's highly unlikely. Unless a muse comes and bites me right in the ass

This was all inspired by London After Midnight (the band not the film) and to me they're Vincent's band now. Either Spider and the Fly or Love You to Death could very well be his theme song. Actually no, scratch that. Their entire discography is his theme song 🧛

Part one and this are hands down the most absolutely self-indulgent thing I've ever written in my life. No joke. And there's barely any smut

Thanks for reading.

No, wait, there's more. Eh, just a couple of dialogues that I didn't end up using because things went a different way.

"Y'know, we should have a double date sometime now that we're officially dating and all."

He looks at you as if you've grown a third eye. "Officially? I thought that was settled since I kissed you the first time. Have I not been a proper boyfriend to you after that?"

Well, of course not! crosses your mind, but then you think about it, really think about it. Every word. Every action. Everything he said and did and you thought he wasn't serious. Yes, you realize your mistake. Your big, dumb mistake. Because he has. Ever since that day in the attic he's been so much… well, you wouldn't say nicer, or sweeter but… less of an asshole?

Really? This entire time?

You're about to speak, but then he continues. "We've been looking for a place to live. Together. As… roommates, then?"

"Oh no."

"Your face is really, really red."

You cover said face with both hands. "Shut up! Oh no. I'm so stupid. I'm so, so stupid."

"That's okay." He pulls your hands from your face so he can kiss you. "You can be stupid all you want, I love you regardless."

*

"You kissed my what?"

You can't bear to look at his face. "I don't wanna talk about it."

He ignores you. "Because, I seem to remember you calling me a creep, you, who stalked me for weeks, who watches me sleep…"

"How do you- I mean, uh…"

"And while I was sleeping, you said you kissed my what?"

"I don't want. To talk. About it. It was a slip of the tongue."

"Oh, I'll bet it was."

"Vincent…!"

"It's alright, I don't mind. The creep and the freak. I bet people will have a hard time figuring out who's who."

You can't even be mad at him for that. Because he doesn't even know the worst part.

Okay now it's really the end.

[icarus-does-fall]

The actual cod fic I've been meaning to write 💪

Aka I wrote the first paragraph like... two weeks ago, then did other things and then wrote the rest of it in two hours ^_^

Anyway it's a poly fic, Ghost, Roach and Soap- it's also fluffy as hell an super sweet

Please enjoy <3

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Ghost, a cold man, un-emotional, harsh, hostile, a killer. Those that saw him walking the halls moved out of his way, people walked on eggshells around him.

Simon, a warm man, a man kept hidden from everyone except a select few. One who smiled, laughed, had a home and melted at his lovers’ touches. Simon who carried in all the groceries and demanded morning cuddles even if it made him and others late.

So how did a man as harsh as Ghost, find the people that broke past his walls, to make his two sides collide?

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

“MacTavish!” Price shouted, and it was in that moment Soap knew he fucked up.

Soap wasn’t stupid by any means, he was the 141s demolitions expert, a little bit of a maths genius and he knew multiple languages. Yet he was also a child at heart and he couldn’t resist the occasional prank.

“Capt'n! Is a pleasure, whit kin I do ye fur?”

Price scowled. “Ya bloody nearly blew half of the barracks, an’ now the other half is covered in glitter- What exactly were you trying to achieve there?”

“Jist a wee bit o’fun Cap’ naethin’ too serious… Ah might've gaen a bit o’erborard but naebody ‘round here seems to ken how to lighten up- ‘cept maybe Gaz an’ Roach. Place jist needed some colour is aw Cap.”

Price's scowl deepened before he simply shook his head and sighed. “You're on clean up duty till the barracks are back to normal- Ghost is supervising you and the rest of ya muppets to make sure nothing else breaks.”

“Shite- Ghost? Why can't… uh… literally anyone else keep an eye oan us? Swear that man hates our guts, he’d raither shoot us than listen tae us talk.”

At that Price let out a gruff laugh and clapped Soap on the shoulder before sending him on his way towards the rest of the so-called detention group. “That's the exact reason, Ghost will keep ya muppets in line cause I got other stuff to take care of instead of babysittin’.”

Soap merely sighed he knew there was no getting out of the punishment that Price had set up for him and the rest of the “troublemakers” on base. He marched his way towards the barracks, as he ran into Gaz, Nikolai and Alex all marching towards their doom as well.

“How’d ye lot pish off Price tae end up wae Ghost in detention?”

Nik simply rolled his eyes as Soap joined in with the little group walking towards the barracks for clean up. “It's all your fault that we’re in this mess MacTavish.”

Soap baulked, “My fault? Whit gies ye that idea?”

“Because we were helping cover your ass- And now John is pissed at me so I’ve been kicked out of bed-”

Gaz cut in before Nik could keep talking. “I'm here cause I was stupid enough to think we wouldn’t get found out, so not really on ya, its more of uh mutual screw up but still, we could’ve done better we’re stuck with fuckin Ghost of all people now… I know he's on our team ‘n all but he scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

Alex however just rolled his eyes and continued on walking, while he loved his team and the occasional chaos they all could get up to, he knew the punishment they were facing was all their faults in the same faction or another and there wasn't any true reason to argue (or blame) it all on Soap. No matter how much Nikolai wanted to simply cause Price kicked the poor guy out of bed.

Soap tsked and walked ahead of the group, slinging his arm around Gazs shoulders with a grin. “You lot worry tae much, surely a wee Ghosty can't be tae harsh.”

The rest of them exchanged glances and laughed at how optimistic Soap was, for an intelligent guy, sometimes he was kinda stupid. But of course that's what made him ever so loveable, by the lads and the ladies.

Not long after their short chat in the hall they made it to the barracks and there was Ghost, standing at the entrance clad in his uniform and mask. The group immediately sobered up and waited for Ghost to speak. He didn't. He merely grunted with a nod and made sure each of the four walked into the barracks. “Price put in charge. You lot are gonna clean, and there won't be any games- Get to it.”

The four grumbled up, picked up the brooms and dustpans that had been laid out and began to clean. Ghost leaned against a nearby wall and supervised the clean up. Soap would make an odd joke here or there causing Gaz or Alex to throw something in his direction leading Ghost to bark orders in their direction to knock it off- For the most part Nikolai kept his head down and did what he was told, merely grumbling about how it was unfair and was a rookies job, not for him.

And the four cleaned until well past dusk, other soldiers on the base working their way around them to make their way towards their beds, all casting pitiful glances in their directions as the rest of base headed off to bed. At one point even Price stopped by to collect Nik, leaving just three left to keep cleaning.

“Aye Ghost, keep them muppets on task till this place is spotless- but I am taking Nik back, beds getting lonely. Kicked ‘em out for nearly a week now.”

Ghost nodded at the order. If nothing else the man was loyal and followed orders like a well trained dog- Which Soap of course made a comment on.

“Like a dog aren't ye Ghost? Trained for on an’ aff the field are ye?”

Ghost scowled underneath his mask and in a low grumble, one that spent shivers down people's spines as he spoke. “You think you're any better ‘cause ya make noise? You're just as much of a bloody dog as I am MacTavish, so quit your yapping ‘for we muzzle ya.”

Soap flushed and chuckled nervously as he for once did as he was told and stopped talking. He went back to cleaning and Gaz and Alex exchanged semi-nervous glances, it was suddenly very tense and heated where they all stood.

At least it was until Gaz spoke up. “Sooo- If we muzzle Soap that mean he gets a leash too? Cause the pet store has these ones with bells on ‘em, got one for my cat cause I kept losing her in all the pillows back home.”

Alex laughed and shook his head, “Nah mate Soap looks more like the type of guy to wear the muzzle and still keep growling… Unless of course he’s secretly into that sort of that thing~”

Soap huffed and with his cheeks still a slight red threw his arms over the twos shoulders, turning his growl into a cheeky grin and playful wink. “Ye ken ye just have tae dae is ask if ye wanna find oot whit kinda beastie I am in bed~”

Gaz scowled playfully and lightly shoved Soap off of him with a laugh. “Yeah right, my girl would have my ass if I took you to bed Soap and we both know it- My ass and your dick would be hanging on her wall for trying to mess with her.”

Soap grinned and then poked Alex in the cheek. “Sooo whit’s that saying aboot ye then?”

Alex shook his head as he chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yaknow for being so smart, you're a terrible flirt sometimes Soap, honestly I’ve heard my abuela do better than that and she's almost 95.”

Soap pouted and his eyes flickered towards Ghost before he laughed and shook his head, sure he was goofing off but he wasn't going to try and test his luck that much- Not while the mans already pissed off at them all anyway. He knew Ghost could have a laugh every once and a while but it was a hard achievement to get.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

It was nearly 4 in the morning by the time the four- turned tree of them finished cleaning while under the supervision of Ghost who stood as still a stone the entire time. A couple times it was brought into question if he was still awake, or was blinking. In which he scared them with a response and coincidentally shut them up at the same time.

Once they were allowed to depart they were nearly sleep deprived for all the cleaning. Staying up 48, even 72 hours for a mission was no problem but to make them clean and they were whipped out after just a few hours of work.

Gaz and Alex went to bed almost immediately, but Soap in his sleepy and ever intelligent state decided to be a menace to Ghost just a bit longer. So as Ghost was turning to walk away Soap caught up with him and swung his arm over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Aye Ghosty! Ye never answered the question of seein’ me in bed ye ken.”

Ghost scowled slightly and shoved Soap off of him with a growl. “Because it was a stupid question. How can you be so smart and yet so bloody stupid all at once?”

Soap rolled his eyes as he kept pace with Ghost and huffed slightly. “Not stupid, just know how to have fun unlike some people around here- I might need a muzzle but I’m not kept on a leash like you are.”

Ghost stopped walking. Dead in the middle of the hallway he stopped walking and turned to Soap with a glare, it was a dangerous and deadly look. “On a leash? What, want me to prove I think for myself?”

Soaps grin came back in a flash and he laughed, “obviously.”

It was almost sunrise, but for now the base was quiet, it was just the two of them in the halls and so Ghost did something unexpected. He pinned Soap up against a nearby wall, one hand on his waist and the other tugging up his mask just slightly so it sat on the bridge of his nose before his lips crashed down onto Soaps leaving him in shock as a slight gasp and whine slipped past his lips.

The kiss only lasted for a moment, less than a second even before he pulled away and tugged his mask back down but not before Soap caught a glance of a grin playing on Ghost's lips. “How’s that for thinkin’ for myself eh Johnny?”

And then he began to walk away.

Soap was left agape and blushing redder than a firetruck when Ghost walked away from him. “Bloody hell- Naeb’dys luck that that just happened right? Fuck meh.”

Ghost grinned from underneath his mask, the crinkle by his eyes gave that away as he looked over his shoulder and back towards Soap for a moment. “Ask nicely and I might.” And with that Ghost turned the corner and disappeared from Soap's sight, leaving the Scotsman more flustered than he was to begin with.

So of course once Soap was able to calm down and gather his thoughts he rushed into the nearest room- He simply needed someone to tell all of this to and at this point he didn't care who it was.

It was Roaches room that he ended up barging into at dark thirty in the morning, not that Soap cared what time it was anymore either. He was wide awake now and there wasn’t any chance that he was going to go to bed any time soon either.

Soaps accept was thicker than it had ever been as he took a spot on Roches bed and shook him awake. “Roach- Roach mate- Mo ghràidh!! gie yirsel a shake, bloody hell! I need somebody tae gab wi here mate, ah might juist explode otherwise! Come oan, please.”

Groggily Roach woke up after Soap shook him awake. His voice raspy and hair all a mess from just having been woken up as well. The sight caused another blush to rise to Soap's face but he quickly pushed it aside. “Fuckin hell man, what is it? People are still trying to sleep, not getting caught up in your schemes.”

Soap pouted and rolled his eyes. “Nae, nae that, nae schemes either- The lieutenant, thon wee bawbag kissed meh!”

At that Roach was sitting up in bed and seemed a lot more interested in what Soap was saying. “Wait- wait… You're talking crazy Johnny, I can barely understand ya mate… You're saying Ghost kissed ya?”

“Aye!!”

Roach chuckled, and shook his head as the sleep began to leave his body. “Well I’ll be damned- Is he any good?”

Soap openly blushed at that, which Roach noticed. “Aww the mighty MacTavish is blushing~ You like him then huh?”

“Oh shut ii Roach! I’m being serious here, the man kissed me! I didn't know he could do that-”

“What kiss people? He might be a killin’ machine but he’s still human, he’s still a guy.”

“Bloody hell, Gary! That's not the ficken point, I'm in crisis over here and you're having a laugh about it.”

“Course I am, you freaked out like this when I kissed ya drunk on new years- You're a decent kisser Johnny, expect the guy to come round for another one.”

Soap once again flushed red and then playfully pushed Roach away with a light glare and a huff. “You're an arse sometimes Roach, hope ye ken that.”

“Course I know that, I gotta be if i wanna be friends with you.”

Soap raised a teasing and mischievous eyebrow as he spoke next. “With all we do an’ we’re only friends? Here I thought we had something more going on than that~”

This time it was Roaches turn to blush, “Oh shut up! We can be friends and still something more at the same time- Now go chase after that lieutenant for us ye hear me?~ Somebody has to make the guy loosen up a bit and who better and a loose cannon and his boyfriend.”

A loud chuckle burst out of Soap's chest as he stole a quick kiss from Roach before moving to walk out of the room. “Aye sounds like the perfect plan.”

Yet as Soap moved to leave Roach pulled him back into his bed and it was obvious the two weren't going anywhere for quite awhile.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

While Soap was having his time with Roach, Ghost on the other hand was having a slight breakdown. He kissed someone- Furthermore he kissed a guy, and not just any guy, a guy with a known boyfriend. Man did he have problems.

Yes, it was also known around base that Soap and Roach weren't in a closed relationship and Ghost never thought he was that type of guy. But damn him and damn Soap, the lad was a good kisser.

With a sigh he collapsed onto his bed, throwing his mask off onto his bedside table and tried for at least a few minutes of shuteye before it was time to be back on duty and training the rookies. Until it was time to be Ghost again. That short exchange in the hall with Soap was the most relaxed he’d been in months since his last leave and he was almost aching for it again.

Before he knew it though the sun was rising and it was time to be awake, it felt like he barely got any sleep as he dragged himself out of bed and pulled his mask back on before heading into the mess hall. He found a spot tucked away into a corner by himself with just a simple cuppa coffee before Johnny bound into the mess hall with his usual grin, his neck covered in illy hidden hickies.

The sight caused an unusual heat to rise to Ghosts face which caused him to scowl and tuck away further into his corner, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch something or drag Soap down by his collar and make him go dumb around him like he'd done with a few of his one night stands.

With a low growl he sipped on his coffee and sighed, he was at war with himself and didn't want to do anything to fix it.- Well that's not entirely true, he wanted to fix it, he just wasn't entirely sure how to, or even if the how was possible.

Yey of course as the fates would have it, Soap noticed him tucked away in his corner of solitude. So Soap and his ever boyish attitude he made his way over to Ghost and took the seat across from him, grinning mischievously and propped his head onto his hands, his elbows resting on the table. “Hey there lover boy”

Ghost blue screened for a moment and nearly choked on his coffee mid sip causing Soap to burst out into laughter.. “I- what??”

“Naethin but a joke, just thought it’d be fun to see your reaction after that stunt ye played earlier.”

Ghost blinked. And then blinked again before trying to focus his attention back onto his coffee. “I was out of line for that- Shouldn't have done it, was just tryin’ to prove a point, more than a dog on a leash an’ all.”

Soap merely shrugged, unbothered by Ghost's dismissal. “Ye got naethin tae worry aboot, been tryin to egg ye on fur ages now an’ Roach dinnae mind any about it no aen, lad was all jokes aboot it when I was freaking out this mornin’, want to compare note an’ what nae.”

A slight blush rose to Ghost face no matter how hard he tried to fight it as he simply stared at Soap, words almost failing to form. “You- Roach wanted to do what? Wait… You talked about me kissin ya? Didn’t think it was that big of a deal, wasn’t even my best work.”

Soap chuckled and shook his head slightly, “Nae naethin like that- Well, kinda actually… ye terrifying and if ye didnt already know it everybody thinks ye attractive juist naebody has the balls to make a move on ye.”

Ghost sat there mouth agape, and his blush darkened to the point it was finally noticeable and before he could respond Soap spoke up once more. “Meh and Roach are havin a movie night tonight, naething serious, just a bit o’fun, time to relax an’ all- ye mair than welcome to join us”

Ghost paused and swirled his coffee around in his mug for a moment or so, the two simply sat in silence for a couple minutes as Ghost thought before he spoke up. “What movie did you two pick?”

Soap grinned, “The Princess Bride, it's a timeless classic that ye cannae go wrong with- Got a projector fur the room an’ everything.”

Ghost nodded, placing down a now empty mug and then nugging down his mask once again. “We’ll see about it.” And with that he stood and quickly vanished from view, being the ghost he was known to be.

Soap rolled his eyes at the dramatics but he was giddy at the thought of Ghost possibly, maybe, showing up for movie night. He knew there was a slim chance that something would actually happen between him, Ghost and Roach but there was always that one percent of possibility and that's what Soap decided to focus on. He loved Roach but damn was Ghost enthralling.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

The hours passed and the day went by as usual, Ghost was outside working the recruits half to death, terrorising another generation of soldiers. Soap wasn’t being a menace for once, he was working with Price on the logistics of certain types of explosions and trying to explain the maths of how each of them worked. And Roach, Roach was tucked away somewhere doing who knows what but at least everyone was staying out of trouble.

As the sun began to set on the day Soap ended up back in Roaches bed, tucked into his side (so sue the man if he liked being the little spoon on occasion) and the movie played on the wall. About 30 minutes or 45, neither were sure there was a slight knock on the door.

“Doors open!”

There was a pause, it seemed like a moment of hesitation but then the door opened and there stood Ghost. Instead of being dressed in his usual tactical gear he was wearing a black hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants. Even his mask was more casual, this one only covered about half his face, showing off his hair- which was a dirty blonde and messier than you'd think possible.

“I’m still invited, yeah? Not too late am I? Couldn’t decide if I should show up or not-”

“Aye! Of course Ghosty! Plenty of room in the bed, come on in.”

Roach laughed softly at his boyfriend's excitement yet shifted slightly to accommodate for another person joining in their not so large bed. Ghost ended up nestled in between the two, Soaps legs were draped over his and Roach was nestled into the crook of his arm. It was… warm, comfortable even and the movie held a nice ambiance to the background.

The movie played and the three laid there cuddled together, a few teases and jabs here and there were exchanged but overall everything was peaceful and Ghost felt context for the first time in a very long time. As the credits began to roll Roach was falling asleep on Ghost, and Ghost had found himself absentmindedly playing with Soaps hair- No one dared mention that in case he’d stop upon being called out for being soft.

“Simon”

The other two looked up at Ghost as he spoke, the rumble of his chest when he talked rosing Roach enough to light a confused spark in their eyes. “Huh?”

“My name- It’s Simon… Don't use it too much though- Or in front of the rest of the team, but my name's Simon.”

Soap grinned, and Roach simply nestled back into Ghost's side but that didn't mean he didn't kiss Ghost's cheek first. “Pleasure tae meet ye then Simon~”

[yaderyngoch]

I made a comment a while ago about a JayTim Tailor AU, and then the brainworms wouldn't stop so now I've actually written it.

Disclaimer that I'm super new to the fandom so this is my first time writing for it, and I also written one little fanfic in the past 3 years for a different fandom so I am Rusty and they're probably very OOC lol.

--

Tailor’s shops, Tim had found, were rather soothing places. Quiet and smelling faintly of amber and cedar. His chosen shop was an octagonal room lined with built-in shelves and racks of suits and armoires of darkly stained mahogany. A table in the centre of the room housed a swatch book of different types of wool and lining silks that Tim liked to flip through just to feel the delicately woven fabrics.

On one side of the shop window, there was a mannequin dressed in a half-finished suit, one side left without the facing so onlookers could see the canvas and careful stitching that gave the suit its structure. On the other there was an old treadle sewing machine, though Tim doubted it was still functional. Nevertheless it helped add to the timeless sort of atmosphere of the shop, something that felt so far removed from all the computers and cold artificial displays Tim usually worked with.

He’d been coming to this tailor for a few years now. Bruce had recommended him, and Tim had been coming ever since. There was something calming about the familiarity. Coming in and greeting the salesman who recommended a few suits for him to try on, settling on one that he thought looked best before the salesperson called the tailor out to him. It was always the same tailor, an elderly man with small, quick hands and soft eyes by the name of Lucius Fox.

Tim waited for him now, dressed in a neat blue suit the salesperson had chosen off the rack for Tim. The shop did offer entirely bespoke suits, but Tim had always found that to be much more elaborate than he felt he needed. As long as he looked neat and presentable, it worked for him.

He flipped through that fabric swatch book, tracing fingertips along the pinked edges of soft blue wool and reading the sticker on the back of the previous swatch as though he had any idea what any of it meant. Camel hair, it said. Tim didn’t think the fur of a camel would be particularly soft or good for suitmaking but evidently he was wrong.

“Mr. Drake?” Called a voice from the door to the tailor’s workshop itself, a voice lower and smoother than Tim had been expecting.

Tim looked up to see a man walking towards him, tall and broad with a streak of white through dark hair, a ruler and chalk in one hand and a pincushion secured to the other wrist with a band of black elastic. He’d forgone the jacket of his three-piece suit, the sleeves of his dress shirt neatly rolled up to his elbows, a tape measure draped around his neck. The suit was fitted just enough to display a figure far sturdier than Tim would’ve expected for a tailor, just hints of a broad chest and arms that filled out the sleeves far better than most.

His face was just as chiselled, with sharp green eyes that seemed to shimmer with amusement, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly.

It took Tim far too long to realise he’d been staring, and he quite quickly flicked his eyes back down to the book before him, feeling warmth rise on his cheeks. “Yes, that’s- uhm.” He cleared his throat. “That’s me.” He looked back up at the Tailor. “Sorry, I just was expecting someone… else.”

The Tailor smiled in something between understanding and amusement. “Yes, Mr. Fox is out for the week so he’s left me to handle the shop. I’ll be taking care of you today.” The blush rose higher on Tim’s cheeks, and if he didn’t know better he’d assume the Tailor was doing that on purpose, with that honeyed voice of his and those smoothly spoken words. “My name is Jason.”

“Tim,” he answered, picking at the band of his watch.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tim,” answered Jason, and Tim was almost irritated at how well such a simple and common name rolled off Jason’s tongue. Jason gestured towards the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, a platform just a little bit above the ground that made fittings easier, evidently. “Stand up there and face the mirror,” said Jason, tone polite and professional despite the command.

Tim nodded, trying not to follow Jason’s order too quickly and trying even harder not to fidget. He’d gotten better at it over the years. At his first fitting, Mr. Fox had smacked him upside the head with a ruler and told him to sit still. Now though, he had a feeling he’d find it just as difficult to behave as he had back then.

Jason came to stand close behind Tim, and it was with another small amount of irritation that Tim noticed even atop the pedestal, Jason was still slightly taller than him. “Tell me a little more about how you like your suits to fit.” His voice was softer now that they stood closer together, a gentle sound rather close to Tim’s ear. Tim couldn’t tell if he could feel the body heat radiating off of Jason, or if it was his own body that was warming up.

“Well… I’m not really sure I have much of a preference. Mr. Fox just fixed whatever he thought looked bad.” Tim wasn’t particularly meticulous when it came to fashion.

Jason hummed in understanding, stepping back just slightly to sweep his eyes over Tim, analysing the way the suit fit him with a careful, sharp stare. “Well, Mr. Fox is very good at what he does, but between you and I? He's also ancient and tends to prefer older, boxier styles, which I don’t think particularly suit you.” Tim felt rather like a blank canvas, where Jason could see the vision of the finished piece and Tim couldn’t. “You have a much narrower waist than most of the men I see. I think you’d look far better in something that showed that off a little more.”

Tim tugged at the hem of the jacket, trying to see what it was that Jason saw, but as far as he was concerned a suit was a suit and as long as it fit he wasn’t sure the cut of it made much of a difference. It was something to wear to a formal event and want to take off as soon as he got home. As far as he knew, the one he had on already fit fairly well for the most part.

“Here, I’ll show you what I mean and you can see what you think,” Jason continued, stepping closer to Tim again, standing right behind him so that in the mirror he could see his own silhouette overshadowed by Jason’s. Jason stroked gentle fingers up Tim’s spine, a featherlight touch to smooth out the wrinkle at the base of his neck. Tim suppressed a shiver as Jason leaned in close to place a pin to mark where the extra fabric near the collar needed to be taken in.

“Generally, off the rack suits were designed to fit men with far worse posture than you,” Jason explained, moving on to pin the sides of the suit. He sounded… appreciative, nearly praising despite the aforementioned posture making more work for him.

Tim could definitely feel his body heat now, attention narrowed down to where he could feel the delicate brush of skilled fingers along his waist, sliding a pin through the fabric with ease and precision Tim wouldn’t have associated with larger, stronger hands, far less wrinkled than Mr. Fox.

Tim could feel the warmth of Jason’s breath, could see him leaning in close in the reflection of the mirror. Now that Jason wasn’t looking at Tim’s face, Tim couldn’t help but stare at Jason’s, at the piercing, intense gaze, careful and precise in his work. He was much younger than Tim assumed most tailors were, likely only a few years older than Tim himself.

Jason moved to the other side, momentarily placing a hand on Tim’s waist to pull away the fabric needed. Tim wondered what he was thinking, so focused and diligent, fingers so much more skilled than Tim would’ve expected. It was an art, really, and there was beauty in simply watching the way Jason worked, in feeling each gentle brush of fingertips along the fabric, light and delicate and telling of so much skill in those hands. Some part within Tim desperately wanted to ask for more, for a taste of what those feathery sweeping touches promised.

“How does that feel?” Tim snapped his eyes away from Jason’s face and back to his own reflection, reminded quite quickly that Jason was a professional only doing his job and Tim desperately needed to get it together. Jason was reminding Tim that he desperately needed a few things.

“Uh… what?” Tim asked, feeling suddenly rather silly and realising he hadn’t been paying any attention at all to any of the things he was supposed to be paying attention to.

Fortunately, instead of the irritation Tim had been expecting, Jason simply laughed, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “The suit. Does it feel too tight? Too loose?” Oh- right. That was why Tim was here.

He looked at his silhouette in the mirror again, this time actually looking at himself instead of at Jason, and found he quite immediately knew what Jason had been talking about before. More than just fitting him better, Tim felt like he looked more… like himself. Not someone putting on a costume to go play the character of some high-society heir. He looked… really good, and good in a way he hadn’t expected to see in himself.

“Well?” Jason asked, smirk tugging at his lips again. “You seem quite easy to leave speechless, but I would appreciate at least some feedback.”

“Oh- sorry. It feels good. Thank you,” Tim answered, looking back at Jason in time to see his satisfied smile.

“Good,” said Jason, stepping closer again. “Now for the sleeves, I think they’re a little long for you, hmm?”

Tim nodded, knowing at least that much needed to be fixed. The hem of the sleeve was barely above his knuckles. Jason leaned in, left shoulder brushing Tim’s right as he slid one hand past Tim’s hip, one hand on either side of Tim’s.

Tim’s breath hitched, trying to calm the way his heart raced at their proximity. He knew this was part of the fitting, that this was the easiest way for a tailor to roll up his sleeve. Mr. Fox had done it too, but when Jason touched him, it was… different. No- Jason was just doing his job. He was a professional, Tim shouldn’t be thinking these things.

Jason’s index finger brushed Tim’s palm as he started to roll the sleeve up, tucking the excess fabric inward so it looked more like what the finished product might be. He slid two fingers beneath the sleeve to help smooth out the folded edge, the backs of them brushing along the sensitive skin of Tim’s wrist. Tim would be surprised if Jason couldn’t feel his racing heartbeat like this, but if he did, he didn’t say anything of it, simply curling his fingers and bringing them down slightly to bring the sleeve down just a little.

“How’s that?” Jason asked, voice hardly above a whisper now that he was practically speaking in Tim’s ear, their faces only a few inches apart. He slid his fingers out of the sleeve, pulling away again so Tim could examine the length for himself.

“Yeah,” Tim answered breathlessly. “Yeah, I like that.” He realised now that Jason had pulled away, he very nearly felt cold. But at least the distance gave Tim room to catch his breath and chase away those creeping thoughts.

Then, Jason stepped in front of Tim, between him and the mirror, and Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest. Tim had nearly forgotten about how Tailors marked the second sleeve, and he was swiftly reminded when Jason dropped to his knees in front of him.

Tim immediately held his breath, staring directly forward and absolutely refusing to look down.

“You know, I can’t do this if you don’t relax,” Jason teased. It was then that Tim realised he’d balled his hands into fists, and then that he knew that Jason definitely knew what he was doing. He released the breath he’d been holding, unclenching his fists and relaxing his arms at his sides.

Jason hummed in satisfaction, and Tim felt that gentle brush of warm fingers against his own as Jason held the ruler up to measure the new length of the sleeve from the tip of his thumb, sliding a pin into place before repeating the process with the other sleeve. Tim was trying not to tremble, trying to ignore what he could see of Jason in his peripheral vision, trying not to wonder what it might be like if he used that tape measure for something other than its intended purpose.

Finally, Jason stood again, face so close to Tim’s that Tim could make out the different shades of green and blue in his eyes.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Now, if you’d please remove the jacket, it’s time to mark the pants.”

Tim was going to die in this tailor’s shop.