#for abandoning them UNTIL he breaks and suddenly the ghost appear! your other friend that you betrayed is now back and possessing this poor

[poptartmochi]

alright it is time.. oracule brainstorm drop!!!

putting it below the readmore because i know myself lol <3

Alright SO... Very roughly continuing on with where the tags on the last post left off wrt the Oracle being a more antagonistic character... Her previous iterations were more maternal and then Distantly Wise, but yk! I think I'd be a bit miffed if I were her!

I need to rewatch the entirety of GX to see how drastically this conflicts against actual canon, bc I know it diverges pretty intensely at points. Anyhow, this post builds off three contextual ideas:

Instead of being some random shadow realm that Haou goes "my city now 😈" on, the dimension that his arc takes place in is Actually where he, Yubel, the Oracle, and the Prince hail from.

A Long Time Ago, the Oracle transferred all the souls from this dimension to the main universe and sealed it away in an isolated fold of reality or some such thing. This action was a last resort to save her people from the Light - it was also her hope that she'd be able to trap the Light in the abandoned dimension with her, thus ending its pervasive destruction once and for all. Such a move was only possible due to the ~ Ancient Knowledges ~ she'd gained through the Light... she was hoping she could use it as a weapon against her old master - although the cost would be great, the ends would ultimately justify the means.

Although she was successful in transferring the souls of her universe to another + sealing her world away, the personal consequences were insane. Unbeknownst to her, the ritual fractured her soul and parts of it (carrying the Light) were ported to the new dimension... More immediately, it embedded her into the fabric of the present universe, leaving her alone to stand sentinel for a world that would never breathe again.

That said! What the FUCK do you do when, against all odds, a door is opened into your lonely desolate world which was Supposed to be Unreachable Forever. What do you do when this is done by None Other than your first friend who you accidentally magicked into immortality! Using magic from The Very Thing you sought to contain and snuff out - the thing you thought you killed! :| Which is quite obviously possessing your old friend!

😐😐😶🤯🤯

so there's this to process. BUT THEN BEFORE YOU CAN EVEN SIT WITH THAT!! ANOTHER door is opened, and in comes your other bestie from a millennia ago! and last but not least, YOU YOURSELF waltz in? And they're not the same but the difference is striking enough. what do you do with this information. 😐😐😐 also what do you MEAN that the Light escaped and also there's another you. huh!

So you begin to stew in this, and you keep your distance because wow! I guess the wounds never actually healed huh. And as you observe what is going down in your previously lifeless and silent home, you realize this is like some twisted conclusion to the very conflict that led you to hit the panic button all that time ago. Yikes!

I think for the Oracle, this is a nightmare. <3 😭😭I feel like her philosophy through these events is that maybe these things were meant to come to pass after all. maybe they really should all just kill each other <3 😐😭😭 And she'd be content to stew in this cynicism, but then you have The Baby Her, who is so desperate and so attached to these friends that she'd give up anything to get them home safely... and despite the Oracle's personal resignation, watching this fragment of herself struggle against it all reminds her of how it Used to Be + causes her to want the friends to come out on top. And so she is conflicted!!

This personal conflict leads to the antagonism I mention - despite her heart wanting the kids to succeed, her brain says they are destined to tear each other apart (and worst of all, they dragged innocents into it!). She's frustrated with the entire situation, and it all culminates in a colder but still supporting role... She wants to be proven wrong, but what she's seeing will not Do That + so she provokes it to inspire the growth necessary to prevail ykwim?

I don't remember enough about S4 (S3.5?) to actually write how this would play out. BUT. instead of them returning to Duel Academy the way they do in the show (iirc it involves Zayn dueling?), they have to like... dissolve the universe. To me, the Oracle's work in containing the Light means that the Haou Dimension is like the hotel california... maybe you can come in, but you can never leave in a way that matters. At this point, I think The Gang ft. Yubel is like "ohh... we really fucked up this time hahahaha 😶😐" And then the Oracle suggests The Dissolution (because at the end of the day she is still the Walking Anchor of the Abandoned Universe), and yk i don't think anyone is a fan of the idea! But it's literally that or be stuck in the Fuck Off Dimension until everyone withers away. tee and dare i say it hee.

So! The group opens up to the idea - I think narratively this would be framed as like.. letting the poor universe finally rest on move on to its next stage, whatever that may be. The Oracle mutilated it and then suspended it unnaturally for eternity - now, it can finally be laid to rest. The wrongs of the past, wrt the Quartet sans jesse (because the Actual Prince died a long time before their situation got so terrible), have finally been hashed out + in the end, the Darkness prevailed over the Light as was once predicted. The Oracle's long-abandoned wish of seeing her friends at peace with one another, friends once again, has been fulfilled. It is time for this chapter to end...

So the Oracle begins the ritual, unraveling her previous work. She is not as connected to her powers as she once was, so the best she can do is transport everyone to the original links Yubel created throughout the various shadow realms. Such a task required a massive amount of arcane energy before - this can be generated by a duel, but most importantly, it required the full presence of her soul last time (and that was Almost not enough before)... Lana agrees to help her, although it might mean she dies in the process :( Anything to get your friends home!! 🥺

And so they do their duel ritual (a shadow game lbfr lol!), and Lana falters a few times! but!! this is what happens when you duel against The Fabric of the Universe that can anticipate your strategies!! :( In any case, the tension of their duel generates enough force for the Oracle to rip a hole through the cocoon she'd wrapped before, and BAM the universe begins to unravel around them!! Everyone scrambles through and the Oracle says goodbye to her friends, old and new. I think she and Yubel, the two friends who started this journey, have a really 🥺farewell as Yubel continues on into the new world. Lana for the most part is silently grappling with the fact that she's literally about to die <3

with a giant wash of power + light, Haou's universe dissipates. Everyone is disoriented by it, and when they come to they're like YAY we survived!! but also.... Lana died guys. 😭😭😭😶🥺🥺Melancholy washes over the scene until Lana joseph-joestars onto the scene, deeply confused! Gag of the century, until Yubel (no longer blinded by a DEEP resentment for the Oracle + also not possessed by the Light) stares deep into her soul and concludes that she survived because Enough of her soul was distinct enough from the Oracle to not be completely absorbed by the universe clawing for its anchor. or some such idea........... this needs to be stewed on!

and so the gang has their week of 😶🙌��🙌🏻home at last!! iirc Jaden was missing for this bit, so I have to rewatch and figure out What Happens, because he undergoes such a significant character shift in that week! Lana is in fact deeply scathed by the whole season - she was going to die! And yet here she is... She finds herself unmoored by the whole adventure, and is carried like driftwood on the wave through to graduation. I remember S4 deals a Lot in everyone's anxieties around graduation and What Comes After, so it would make sense to explore that with Lana's whole melancholy here. but that's a post for another time hehe

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

[yanderecrazysie]

Change Part 2 (Yandere Oikawa)

Requested on my Quotev and Wattpad.

Title: Change (Part 2)

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, forced touching/affection

Summary: After returning to the way you’d always been, Oikawa’s become nothing short of a nightmare.

Part 1:  here

Part 2: here

change

/verb/

make (someone or something) different; alter or modify:

It had been only a month since you went back to looking the way you’d always been, sacrificing your makeover to get your happiness back. 

Oikawa made it feel like a lifetime.

He hadn’t accepted your rejection, despite your pleas for him to leave you alone. He had at least abandoned his obsession with being the perfect couple to outsiders, but he had replaced that with a new obsession entirely. One focused completely on you.

Oikawa’s friends didn’t see the appeal in the old you, with your messy hair, glasses, and casual clothing. You could hear the whispers in the hallways about the most popular guy in school dating you of all people.

More than being a blow to your confidence, it made you feel depressed. People made comments about how lucky you were to be with a guy like him. No one seemed to understand the torture he was putting you through every day, simply because you weren’t popular.

Oikawa had become possessive, wrapping an arm around your waist or around your shoulder whenever you were nearby. He sent glares to other guys as though any of them might be interested in you.

It was strange that he hadn’t done such a thing when you were “pretty”. After your makeover, you had tons of guys lining up for you, jealous of Oikawa. But now that you were your mousy self again, he was suddenly obsessed with the idea that someone might try to take you away from him.

He forced affection on you all the time. Whether it was a lingering kiss to your lips or cheek, a crushing hug, or a teasing hand sliding up your thigh, it seemed he always had to be touching you.

A small part of you reminded you that you had always longed for his attention like this. You had had a crush on him for so long you could barely remember a time when you didn’t. Wasn’t this what you wanted? To be accepted as you were by Oikawa Tooru? Weren’t you lucky, like everyone said?

The larger part of you was hesitant- afraid. It was as if he didn’t hear you whenever you resisted or told him “no”. You had lost most of your affection for him when you saw how he only cared about appearances, but even more affection was lost when he refused to accept the break up.

Even now, as he laughed with his friends over some joke, his arm an iron chain around your waist, you were afraid of Oikawa. You curled into yourself, trying to squeeze out of his grasp, but to no avail. He barely paid you any mind, simply pulling you closer until your hips were touching.

You placed your trembling hands onto the lunch table in front of you, feeling the cool wood under your sweaty palms. How could you convince him to stop, when your pleas always fell on deaf ears?

You felt like Oikawa’s pet. Like a mute, helpless animal for him to play with. One that he loved to take on walks and show off to the rest of the world. You felt less than human around him.

“I still don’t get why you go out with her,” one of Oikawa’s friends, a blond girl with a large, loud mouth, complained, “I mean, I’m single and down for anything, you know.”

The girl reached out a hand, fingers lightly ghosting over Oikawa’s free hand. The boy retracted his arm from her grasp, a dark cloud passing over his features. “Don’t you dare insult my precious girlfriend. She’s perfect for me. I want no one but her.”

His face relaxed as he turned his eyes on you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he brushed some messy strands of hair away from your thick glasses. “She’s perfect,” he repeated, his eyes shining brightly just at the sight of you.

You hated when he touched you in front of his friends like that. You hated how he acted so affectionate and loving when you clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

“What do you see in her?” The girl demanded, pounding her fist on the table like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

Oikawa turned his gaze back to her, his eyes darkening with anger, no longer wearing that gentle expression. “I advise you to shut your damn mouth.”

The girl gulped a little, shrinking back in her seat, “Fine, fine, whatever you say.” You couldn’t blame her, Oikawa was terrifying when he got angry.

He turned back to you, all sunshine and rainbows once more, “Are you coming to my volleyball practice after class?”

“No,” you said stubbornly, like you always did.

Oikawa laughed and booped your nose with his finger, “My sweetheart likes to joke.”

You were used to this song and dance. It would lead to him confronting you after class and dragging you to his practice, where you’d sit on the bench and blankly watch him and his teammates play volleyball. Just like every day.

Nothing you said mattered, Oikawa would get his way.

If only you were strong enough to fight back

[prettyiwa]

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Ex!Semi Eita x F!Reader Content Tags: Bassist!Semi Eita, Post MSBY-Schweiden, Fluff, Past Relationship, Mentions of a Messy Break-Up, High School Sweethearts, Lingering Feelings, Awkwardness Summary: Throughout your relationship with Eita, there was only one song he never shared with you completely. He used to hum its melody while he worked, though its lyrics remained a mystery to you. No one expected the first time you'd hear them would be during a show following a surprise reunion years after your separation. Word Count: 2,390

A/N: I found this in my WIPs and decided to share what I had. I'm slowly coming to terms with sharing unfinished WIPs and the idea that I may never fully return to them. In the meantime, enjoy?

Ushijima’s question is forgotten the second you hear the opening chords of the next song. Your attention returns to Eita—as though he hasn’t been the center of it all evening—and all coherent thought escapes you. Your heart swells and your breath catches and all you can do is listen to the gentle bassline Eita provides before other instruments join in, one by one.

Suddenly seventeen again, you’re listening to this progression for the first time before he blushes and flusters, ceasing his playing before offering a proper greeting. But that swelling in your chest halts when you’re reminded that you’re not seventeen, that you’re twenty-four with years having passed since you two last spoke.

The song continues, its full form light and hopeful, melancholy if only to you because it viciously reminds you that you’re no longer the kids who believed they could conquer the world together. All the same, the smile that appears on your lips is completely involuntary, a reaction to hearing his lyrics for the first time.

It’s not until he looks away that you realize the hold he’s kept you under, that he’s undeniably aware of your presence in the back of the audience. While you remain uncertain whether Satori’s teases have merit or that Shirabu didn’t set this up for personal entertainment (or that, perhaps, the truth lies in either’s persistence), you are certain that Eita sees you now.

Your heart remains hopeful, willing you to see the yearning in his expression, but there’s that voice in the back of your mind telling you that you’re projecting, that he’s sung this song hundreds of times before for the attention of any of the women around you. The romance you two once had is dead and gone and this is nothing more than a reminder of what once was.

Hell, you’re only here because of a series of coincidences—your return to Japan aligning with Ushijima’s game in Sendai; a schedule change that made Shirabu unavailable to attend the MSBY v. Schweiden match; a passing comment made by Reon regarding Eita’s show tonight; Ushijima inviting you since it’s been years since he’s seen you and months since he’s spoken with Eita. At no point yesterday did Eita otherwise speak with you. He only stared as though confronted with a ghost while you were invited to his performance by the grace of your high school friends. If not for how deeply you missed everyone—if not for how easily swayed you are by all of them—you wouldn’t be here.

The truth remains that Eita wouldn’t have invited you, that he likely already had this song on his set list before your reemergence in his life, that you aren’t the one he intends for it.

Still, you’re both here. He’s playing with his band at his favorite venue and you’re in the audience to cheer him on. One of the first promises you two made each other, fulfilled, something you can cherish if all else is lost. It does nothing to temper your longing, but it soothes some of the sting.

Girls on either side of you swoon, enamored by the pretty men on stage offering prettier lyrics while you’re faced with the largest what-if of your adult life and all of the abandoned promises and sweet nothings that were once yours. What does it matter when the promises that truly mattered are being fulfilled?

The song finishes, its lovely melody coming to a close, but you don’t realize you’re crying until Ushijima offers his handkerchief. Eita’s gaze shifts away again as Ushijima says, “I haven’t heard him play that song since high school.”

“Have you seen Eita perform with this band before?”

“I have. Sometimes they play in Tokyo and if they have a show when I’m in Miyagi, I’ll attend.”

“I’m glad. That makes me happy,” you answer with a smile before returning your full attention to the band.

It means nothing that Ushijima has never heard the song any of the times he’s seen Eita play. It’s not as though he played it for you. Even if he did… it changes nothing. All the same, you’re glad you’re here and glad you were given the opportunity to listen to the finished piece.

With the performance over and the band retreating to the back, you’re about ready to call it a night, certain Ushijima’s feeling the same. Instead, he beckons you to the periphery, providing identification to security as he leads you both to the back of the club. It’s too loud for you to get a word in edgewise once you realize he intends to bring you to Eita, but you don’t want to leave without saying goodbye.

Heart racing, you can’t help but remember yesterday, remember how Eita behaved, deciding he doesn’t actually want you here. He’s never been one to hold back, always asking for what he wants—“the answer’s already no if you don’t ask,” he used to say—so for him to say nothing? Well… It’s easy to anticipate push-back.

“Ushijima,” you prompt once the hallway provides a buffer to the cacophony of the club, “are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t know if Eita wants to see me. Maybe it’s better if I just leave and let you two catch up.”

Stopping in front of the door, he turns to you with a furrowed brow before speaking. “He wants to see you. We were both pleased to run into you after my game.”

“I’m happy I got to see you, too, but I don’t know.”

“I can show you the group conversation if you don’t believe me,” he offers, pulling out his phone.

“Ah, no, it’s okay, I promise,” you say with a laugh, pushing his phone away. “I’m just nervous, I guess.”

“You still care for him, don’t you?”

“I never stopped.”

Before he can respond, the door opens and the drummer pauses upon seeing you. Sizing you both up, he calls back to the band, “Ushijima and some chick are here,” before pushing past you.

Ushijima enters, taking the space once occupied by the musician, waiting for you to join him. The back room is small, adorned with signed posters from bands who’ve performed in years past, cramped with a mini-bar and unnecessarily large seating, making it feel cluttered even without people.

Everyone watches as you enter, curious as to the identity of “some chick,” and you’re struck by the tension that hangs in the air, the obvious remnants of an argument. Your search for a quiet distraction isn’t in vain as you catch sight of Eita.

Painfully aware that you aren’t alone, that it’s getting harder to breathe under everyone’s continued scrutiny, that the temperature’s rising, that your palms are uncomfortably sweaty, you find that you… don’t care. Not when he’s no longer looking at you as a ghost but as a friend that he’s missed. He looks at you like that, smile stretching his lips, and you can almost forget that last brutal argument.

Offering an awkward little wave and sincere praise for their performance, you feel it more than you see it—the release of the tension in the room, a collective breath held being released. The groupies start gushing over professional athlete Ushijima Wakatoshi and the musicians greet him like they’re used to it. Meanwhile, Eita stands as you approach, disbelief still tucked behind his expression despite his smile.

“You came.”

“Of course I came. I always promised I’d see you here,” you remind him, returning his smile.

“I didn’t think you’d show.”

“How could I miss this? I don’t think I have any right to say this, but I’m proud of you and your hard work. For whatever that’s worth.”

A steady flush starts to rise on his cheeks before his smile turns boyish. Uttering your given name in conjunction with his thanks, the other conversations stop and eyes are on you two again. Not until his guitarist repeats your name do you look away, surprised to meet the frustrated faces of his bandmates.

“Oh, so she’s the one you threw our set list out the window for?”

“I’m—what?”

“I already told you guys—”

“Yeah, yeah, you didn’t know what you were doing until it was too late. Doesn’t change the fact that you almost left us hanging in the middle of a set.”

“What are they talking about?” you ask, determined to not read more into the situation than you already have.

“Nothing. They’re talking about nothing. Can we—?”

“Nothing? Nothing except your boyfriend surprising us by playing a completely different song than the one we planned. He’s lucky we’ve practiced it before or we would’ve all been left in a lurch.”

Eita looks at you again and you’re reminded of a child being caught with their hand in the sweets jar. Your mind can’t seem to move past the casual use of “boyfriend” and the reveal that he hadn’t planned on playing that song.

“We aren’t—shit. Ei- I mean, Semi?” you ask, alarm audible in your voice as your cheeks start to burn.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he turns to you, eyes wide, mirroring your trepidation. “I told you guys that we aren’t together.”

“After that stunt tonight, you better be.”

“Semi, I can leave. It’s fine. We came back to say ‘hi’ and tell you that the band’s performance was great,” you say, pulling back. Ushijima starts and you wave him away. “It’s okay, Ushijima. I can call myself a cab. I’ll text you.”

Ushijima hesitates, not wanting to leave you on your own but wanting to respect your wishes, only relenting when Eita steps forward, closing the distance between you two again. He shoots a glare toward his guitarist and cellist before turning to you.

“Please don’t go. You just got here.”

“Semi,” you warn, guilt rippling through you as he deflates. “Listen. It was great seeing you and being able to watch you play, but I should get going. It’s been a long day.”

You can tell he wants to push back, that he wants you to stay—and what a wonderful feeling it is, knowing that—but he senses your discomfort and nods. “At least let me walk you out.”

“Okay.”

“Make sure to take her out through the back so your fan girls don’t get pissy.” The guitarist sports a scowl when you say goodbye to Ushijima, allowing Eita to usher you outside.

It’s hard to place what you’re feeling as you follow, hard to reconcile the way you find this comfortable despite the distance between you. Maybe the silence is as equally daunting, equally filled for him as it is for you. He waits until you’re both outside before saying anything, though he still hasn’t turned to face you. “Look, I need you to know that—”

“It’s okay, Semi. Truly.”

“Will you just let me speak?”

“Sorry. I’m just… nervous.”

“And you think I’m not?” he asks, turning and pinning you with his stare. “Shit. None of this is going the way I thought it would.” Hiding his face behind his hands, he takes a deep breath before bringing his hands up, smoothing over his hair.

“What’s not?”

“Tonight. You.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Shit, I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I thought I would’ve gotten over my nerves around you. Things between us… didn’t end on the best of terms.”

“To put it mildly,” you agree, remembering how vehemently he refused your proposal to split, how quickly concerns over distance were warped into insecure accusations until the argument destroyed any hope you had to remain friends.

“I miss you. It was like a dream seeing you the other night.”

Your heart hiccups at his uncharacteristic openness about his emotions and you look at your shoes before asking, “Didn’t Shirabu tell you I was coming? Or Satori?”

“You must be confusing me for someone who has a better relationship with Shirabu. And Tendō said he didn’t tell me because he thought it would be funnier this way.”

You can’t help but laugh, but let some of your nervous energy escape with the sound. When you look up again, you find the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m sorry. Shirabu told me he planned on seeing the match with you and Reon, only for his shift to change at the last minute.”

“He told Reon, but Reon seemed to forget to pass it on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologize again, amused by their antics. Part of you wishes you had looked at the group chat when Ushijima offered. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Let me take you out for coffee.”

The answer comes a little too quickly and his familiar confidence starts to make itself known, but you hear that little seed of doubt that Eita’s always worked so hard to hide. Even still, you’re worried that it’s too much too soon, that you’ll both get caught in the illusion of “what could have been” rather than what is, that there’s nothing but pain waiting at the end of this road.

“Just coffee, and just as friends, right?”

“Of course.”

“Semi—”

“Just coffee. No surprises. No unwelcome guests. No songs that catch everyone off guard. Just coffee.”

“So you didn’t plan on playing that song?”

“I’ll tell you more about it when we get coffee,” he teases, flashing you a wide smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

Gods is this man beautiful. So easy would it be to fall into old habits, to give him whatever he asks for. There’s an undeniable pull for you to learn all the way he’s changed in the years since you last saw him, to discover who he is now, and it’s terrifying and exhilarating in such a way that only Eita could pull off.

Bowing your head in an attempt to hide your answering smile, you relent. “Okay, fine. Just coffee. Let me give you my number and we can figure out a time that works for us both.”

His fingers brush against yours as he hands you his phone and you don’t miss the way his smile grows and you know deep within your bones that there’s no way it’s going to be just coffee. Not that either of you seems to mind.

Haikyuu!! Masterlist

[storiesforallfandoms]

nothing left ~ 10k;z nation

word count: 2229

request?: no

description: he accompanies her back to her childhood home to find nothing left besides the memories of times before the zombies, and they decide to leave some new memories there

pairing: 10k x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

(Y/N) kept a straight face as they drove past the sig with her hometown’s name displayed in bold, black letters against the stark white background. It was the first time she had been there since she and her parents had escaped during the initial Z outbreak. Since then, she had lost everything, but managed to find a new family within the small group that took her in.

They came to a stop at an empty parking lot of an abandoned supermarket. Everyone got out, weapons in tow.

“This place is a ghost town,” Doc commented.

“Almost everyone vacated when the infection started,” (Y/N) explained. “I don’t even think there would be any Zs here. It’s probably only been ransacked lately.”

“It’s the only town for miles, it’s our best bet for resources,” Warren said. “We search the place where we can and see what we can find.” She turned to (Y/N) to add, “Do you want to go home? Just to see the place if nothing else?”

(Y/N) was dying to get home, but she didn’t want anyone on the team to see her as weak or fragile. Although she knew they wouldn’t think any different of her if she did show some weakness, in this day and age, your biggest threat was to be perceived as weak to anyone.

Before she could respond, 10k spoke up. “I think you should. It’ll give you a break from everything, and you can be closer to your parents for even just a moment.”

(Y/N) had a hard time saying no to 10k, especially when parents were involved. She knew he wanted nothing more than to be close to his own father again, but, like (Y/N), 10k hadn’t been home in nearly a year. He didn’t even know if his own home was still standing. If she turned down this opportunity that she knew 10k wanted so bad in front of him, she’d never forgive herself.

“It would be nice,” she admitted.

“You go then honey,” Warren said, her voice soft and kind. “10k, you go with her for protection. Meet us back here before sundown. We’ll wait a little while, but not too long.”

The two youngest members left in the opposite direction of the group. (Y/N) led 10k down the still familiar roads. They weren’t too far from the house and, before she knew it, (Y/N) was stood in front of her childhood home. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

All the windows were smashed and the door was practically ripped off of the hinges. They entered with weapons raised in case of a Z attack. (Y/N)’s heart broke to see the place ransacked and destroyed. Every picture her parents had hung were smashed to pieces. Only one remained partially in tact, one of (Y/N) and her parents when she was barley a year old. They were on their first vacation as a family to visit someone in another state. The picture was of the three of them on the beach together. Baby (Y/N) was in her mother’s arms, taken by the sand in her tiny hands while her parents were smiling brightly at the camera.

10k looked over her shoulder as her eyes began to water. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“I got that a lot,” she said. “We were basically twins. Dad said I got lucky with mom’s genes.”

She held the picture close to her chest as she moved up the stairs to where the bedrooms and main bathroom was. Whoever had broken in must’ve found what they wanted on the first floor because the bedrooms were relatively untouched. Every poster and picture (Y/N) had on her walls were still there. Her old laptop was even still there, although she doubted that it worked anymore.

“It’s weird,” she said. “It feels like I’ve been gone for years, but this room looks exactly the way I left it, like not a day has past.”

“Anything here you want to take with you?” 10k asked.

(Y/N) shook her head. “I took most of the important stuff when we left first. There’s nothing but memories here now.”

She was so lost in her own thoughts - memories of when things were good - that she didn’t hear 10k leave the room to walk into the bathroom until he spoke again. “The water still runs.”

She walked into the bathroom to find clean water running from the tap. She put a hand under the water, feeling it go from freezing cold to comfortably warm in seconds.

“The power and stuff must still be running,” she said. “Good news for us. I haven’t showered in ages.”

“You think it’s safe?” 10k asked, but (Y/N) was already placing her weapons on the bathroom counter and shedding herself of her top layers.

“I’m willing to take one for the team if it means I’ll be clean when I die,” she joked. “You can watch the door and make sure no Zs or no more looters come in. I’ll leave my gun close enough that I can use it if need be.”

10k nodded. Before he could get the chance to turn back on, (Y/N) grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. For a split second, 10k saw the black bra she was wearing. It was old and worn, probably one of the only ones she had left. Due to this, it was basically falling apart, so when he got a brief glance of the bra, he also got a glance of one of her breasts.

10k’s eyes widened as he quickly turned his back so that (Y/N) didn’t know. He stood in the doorway, listening over the sound of the shower running for any indication of someone, or something, breaking into the house.

The warm water running over (Y/N) caused her to let out a moan of relief. It had been so long since she had properly bathed. The warm water of the familiar shower felt like heaven to her.

Outside the shower, 10k was shuffling awkwardly. He and (Y/N) had been close since they had first met, but they had only ever viewed each other as friends and Z fighting colleagues. He didn’t understand why he was starting to have this feeling about her. Maybe it was just boy hormones and the fact that she was a naked girl just a few feet away from him. But it felt like more than that. Maybe it had always been more than that but he was just afraid to admit it.

Before he could stop himself, 10k silently placed his gun next to hers on the toilet cover. He began to shed himself of his own clothes, working quickly and quietly as to not disturb her. (Y/N) had her head back with the water running over her hair and body when 10k pulled the curtain back and stepped in. She opened her eyes to look at him, shocked by his sudden appearance. She looked him up and down for a moment, her face giving away nothing.

“Gotta save water,” 10k said, trying to lighten the mood.

A smile broke out across (Y/N)’s face as a small giggle came from her lips. “Come here, 10k.”

She put a hand on the back of his neck at the same time that his hands found her waist. Their lips collided and it felt like the most right thing in the terrible, fucked up world around them. 10k’s lips moved against (Y/N)’s perfectly, as if they were supposed to be there, to be kissing her so deeply. His hands wandered over her dripping body, touching every inch of her soft skin with his calloused hands.

(Y/N) let out a sudden squeal as 10k lifted her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist. She was shocked at his strength. Sure, he wasn’t as scrawny and wimpy as he may have looked, but he certainly wasn’t the strongest person in the world. He’s just full of surprises, (Y/N) noted as his lips connected with hers again.

His hard boner was against her aching core, teasing her ever so slightly with every gently brush against her. She whimpered against his lips when she felt him brush against her opening, trying to ground her hips against his to feel her inside of him. Knowing that she wanted this as much as he did made him even more turned on. He was almost afraid that he wouldn’t be able to make this moment last long enough.

He helped to guide her down onto his hard length, causing (Y/N) to gasp as he filled her entirely.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked her, suddenly realizing that he had no idea what (Y/N)’s sexual past was like.

“No,” she responded, her voice breathless and airy. “I just haven’t had sex in a very long time. I forgot how good it felt.”

10k smiled at her and pressed his lips against hers again. He pressed her back against the nearest wall and slowly began to thrust himself into her. (Y/N)’s back arched against the wall, trying to get as close to 10k as she possibly could.

He was slow and gentle, which drove (Y/N) even more wild. She held on around his neck as if her life depended on it, moaning and gasping against his lips with every thrust he pushed into her. She could barley even think straight, her mind focusing only on the pleasure that 10k was providing her.

“Is this alright?” he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Sweet 10k, always thinking of the comfort of others, even when he was in the middle of the most intense shower sex (Y/N) had ever had.

“It’s more than alright,” she responded. “God, it feels so fucking good.”

10k had heard (Y/N) swearing many times, but hearing the expletive word slip from her breathless voice in that moment drove him wild. He rested his head against her shoulder, groaning as he pushed his hips against hers again, filling her completely.

“You feel so good,” he told her. “You’re so soft and warm, fuck.”

“Who would’ve thought that sweet 10k had a dirty side?” (Y/N) giggled.

“You must not know me well enough, then.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Her thought was cut short as 10k pulled almost completely out of her then filled her again. Her mind was clouded with lust as she tried to rock her hips against his, begging for the release she wanted.

Noticing her desperation, 10k wrapped one arm around her lower back and slipped his free hand between them. (Y/N) gasped as his fingers connected with her swollen nerves and began to rub circles in them. She could feel a familiar pressure building inside of her. She clung to 10k’s shoulders, curses falling from her mouth in between moans of pleasure. Her legs began to shake as she felt herself hitting her climax. She threw her head back and called 10k’s name - his real name - in pleasure.

Feeling her walls contracting around him caused 10k to feel his own climax approaching. He held on to her hips as his thrusts became a little faster. Before he knew it, his eyes were nearly rolling back into his head as he felt himself filling her with his warm cum. The feeling of the warmth inside of her was enough to almost turn (Y/N) on again.

They stayed tangled together for a moment, completely forgetting about the running water cascading down onto them. It wasn’t until the warm water started to turn cold that they realized it was probably time for the two of them to get out.

Luckily for them, whoever looted the house also didn’t think to take any of the towels in the upstairs linen closet, so they had a way to dry themselves off. Before she started pulling her clothes on, 10k wrapped his arms around (Y/N) again and kissed her exposed shoulders and neck before placing one last sweet kiss against her lips.

“We should tell the others about the running water,” he said as he pulled his clothes back on. “If this place is relatively Z-less, we could probably get away with staying here for a while.”

“We’ve stayed in worst looking places,” (Y/N) agreed. “I’m sure everyone else is dying to clean themselves, too. There’s enough room for everyone to sleep with all the bedrooms and the couch downstairs.”

The reminder of the wreckage when they first entered caused a melancholy mood to wash over (Y/N) again. Noticing this, 10k brought her into his arms and held her tightly.

“I’m sorry about your house,” he said. “I’m sorry someone did this to you, that they took all the memories of this place.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “They didn’t take the memories. No one could ever take that from this place. Besides, I’d like to make some new memories here...with you.”

10k smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I think we’ve already started with that.”

(Y/N) giggled and pulled away from him. “Let’s go find everyone to tell them before they leave us abandoned.”

[bokutoslittlebird]

I’m Sorry

Alpha!Ushijima x Beta!f!reader x Alpha!Oikawa

Warnings: THIS IS A SEQUEL to Regrets, intention of suicide, suicidal thoughts and actions [overdose, cutting, falling], mentions of self harm [overdose and cutting], angst, pregnancy, bonding mention, I did not look up Argentina resident rules

The rain was heavy today.

You felt as if it was the universe’s way of saying it was sorry for you. The ride back to school would be in the pouring rain that matched the gloominess of your heart, only to enter a campus where nobody wanted anything to do with you. His scent was all over you; despite being a Beta, you could feel it. You had been claimed and nobody would dare try and claim Ushijima Wakatoshi’s mate, despite the fact you’re not his mate.

Sobbing did little to ease the ache in your chest, eyes blotched from the constant tears and your nose sniffling as you tried to wipe away snot with your sleeves. Your sleeves, not his sleeves of a jacket you stole. Reading stories of how an Alpha would bestow their mate clothing would always warm your heart, but sitting on a dirty busstop with nobody but the rain beside you, your heart felt cold.

“What are you doing?” Someone asked. Your head snapped up to see a brunet looking down at you, his attire telling you he was dressed to run. Running? In pouring rain? What an idiot. He was gorgeous, though, hair collecting silver droplets that seemed to only accentuate his features. Your eyes trail down to the black collar adorning his neck, hidden beneath the white and blue jacket he wore. He quirked an eyebrow, giving off a small chuckle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

“More like an idiot running in rain. What’s up with that?” You sniffle, rubbing at your raw nose and cursing the timing. An Alpha coming on a claimed Beta alone — words don’t need to be spoken for the other man to know why you’re crying. But instead of running off, he sits next to you. “You’re gonna get me wet, weirdo,”

“Well if I sit too close, I’d get snot on me, so maybe I’d be better keeping my distance, anyways,” he shoots back, barely batting an eye. You just scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Someone seems to have a problem with me. I don’t even know who you are, stranger,” you give off a grin, trying to keep up the light tone.

“Well, you’re wearing a Shiratorizawa jacket and you stink like Ushiwaka, so can you blame me for being a bit of an ass?” He says, grinning. Though you were keeping a light tone, his words quickly reminded you of the position you’re in. Gloomy day, pouring rain, busstop. Looking back to the ground, you sigh heavily.

“Well, at least it’s the most interaction I’ve had all day. Ushijima’s got a stick up his ass and no funny bone in his body, so I suppose if this is my last interaction, it’s better than him,” you off handedly say. The man beside you quirks his eyebrow once more, your words settling into his brain before he’s leaning closer to you. His shadow moves towards you, making you jump back. “What are you doing?”

“You’re pregnant,” he flat out says. Before you can shoot anything back, his eyes get sad as he pulls himself back some more. “You’re going to kill yourself because he abandoned you?”

“How-” you sputter, tears springing to your eyes once more, “how did you-”

“You know if he’s abandoned you, another Alpha can take claim, right? You’re not worthless,”

“Easy for you to say. I’m a Beta with an Alpha’s bond mark. An Alpha that doesn’t even want to talk to me. My family and friends have turned their backs on me because it’s my fault. I wouldn’t expect an Alpha to understand the other party’s feelings,” you say, wiping away the tears. Despite trying to appear strong, your eyes are wet and there’s snot running down your face. “No Alpha wants Ushijima Wakatoshi’s leftovers. Don’t make me laugh,”

“Well, a cute little Beta would look better with a genuine smile then tears in their eyes, wouldn’t you agree?” He smiles, rubbing your cheek, but you slap away his hand.

“Stop patronizing me. You sound like a creepy old man. Who even are you?”

“Oh, I didn’t think I had to introduce myself. I’m Oikawa Tōru,” he smiles once more, a genuine smile, as he holds out his hand. “And if there’s someone who hates Ushiwaka more than you, it’s me,”

“[Y/N]. You’re from Seijoh, right?” You shake his hand, although it’s brisk. His nod confirms your suspicions. The captain of the team that never beat Ushijima’s team, but always aimed for the top. Ushijima also mentioned how talented Seijoh’s setter was, but you never expected to be sitting on a busstop next to the man himself. “Well, you’ve gotten my life story and told me you hate Ushijima, so I guess it’s time for you to go back to running in the rain,”

“Nah, I can’t,” he shrugs, but you look at him confused, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, you ask him why. “Well, I can’t leave someone in need alone. If I leave, you’ll still kill yourself. You’re hurting and I can’t just abandon you. I’m not like other Alphas, you know.” You know his reference is to only Ushijima, but it warms your stomach nonetheless, seeing someone actually be there for you.

“I’m sorry you had to meet me then. If you hadn’t stopped, we’d both be blissfully unaware of each other’s presence,” you say, letting a sob wrack your body before covering it with a cough. “Guess I’m the weirdo getting sick,”

“Still thinking there’s no other option, huh?”

“Well what do you expect? You’re the only person who hasn’t told me to face my consequences on my own and turned your back on me. There really is no reason for me to stay here, especially if I have to raise a child without a support system. I’m still in high school, what the fuck,” you huff, running your hand through your hair, looking up at the sky, noticing how the rain has eased up and the sky is brighter. “I’ll be out when it comes, but the fact of the matter is I’ll graduate pregnant, who wants to go through that? I’m basically a cheap slut in everybody’s eyes. I just wanted to feel needed by someone I admire and this is what it results in? The more I think about it the more I want to down a bottle of painkillers and never wake up.”

“If nobody is sticking up for you, then maybe they’re not your real friends. Fair weather friends, only there for good tea and sunny days. If there’s nobody there for you, reach out for help,”

“I don’t want to be a burden,”

“People who will help you willingly won’t see it that way. Me sitting here with you isn’t burdening me, and I haven’t turned from you. I know we just met, but I want to help you. There’s a lot to live for and one setback doesn’t deserve to sever that line before you’ve even gotten to the good part. Good people exist, you just need to find them,”

“‘Find them’? I thought I had, so what’s the point in trying to find more, only to be disappointed?”

“[Y/N], was it? I’m right here, you know,” he puts a hand on his chest, a smile on his lips and shining in his eyes. “I’ve seen you at your lowest and I’m still here. Find someone like me,”

“That’s sweet, but I doubt there are multiple Oikawas running around in the rain,” you sigh, looking back up. It’s almost time for the bus, but you have a feeling that if he’s still here, then he won’t let you leave. “Are you gonna sit there until my opinion changes?”

“They don’t change that easily, trust me,” he chuckles, but it lacks the merry behind it. Glancing at him, his eyes are downcast as he runs a thumb over his knee. “But I don’t want to see someone die over one thing. There’s a lot to live for, a lot to strive for, that’s why I keep moving even after all my failures. If someone kills themselves for one thing, something I don’t see as a reason to end, I wonder if it was deeper than what it was on the surface. Was it a quick way to feel numb for a while? Was it an easy solution? Sometimes the easiest path isn’t the right one. Surviving an attempt makes you realize things can change, but what if you didn’t survive? If you regret putting the blade to your skin or stepping off the ledge seconds after you do it or seconds before death? You can’t change it once it’s in motion.”

“I never.. I never thought about it like that,” you mutter, your hands holding each other, fingers twiddling. A brief meeting with a handsome Alpha suddenly put things in perspective. A laugh breaks you from your trance, his mouth behind his hand.

“If I see an opportunity to help, I’ll be there, but the fact is I can’t change your mind. I would like to put things in perspective and give you options, but that’s all I can do. If the reason you’re planning to end it all is because you have no friends, I can help with that. I’ll be your friend when nobody else gives you a chance.”

You mull it over, thinking of your options. In the end, the worst that could happen is you end up back on the bench, in the rain, ready to match to your death. “You know, I was told that if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is,” you mutter, but rifle through your jacket pockets for your phone. “Don’t make me regret second guessing myself, Oikawa Tōru. If you want to be my friend, I’ll take the hand extended to me,”

“Wonderful! And just in the nick of time, the bus is here,” he takes out his own phone, ready to swap numbers. As the bus pulls up to a stop, Oikawa waves at you as he pockets his phone, your contact information all piled inside. You really hope you don’t regret this decision, too.

In the few days that pass, you find yourself wondering how you could have possibly thought bad of Oikawa. He was sweet to you, introducing you to his friends (who knew about your predicament prior), with their promise they’d never turn their back. Iwaizumi was also an Alpha, but the other two were Betas. You did think it to be odd about how they seemed to willingly to help you, stay beside you, despite having no reason to. Their only reason was a promise to you. To Oikawa? Maybe, but you never asked him about it; if you did, he’d just shrug and give you a vague answer.

He promised to show you the light on a dark and gloomy evening, and he kept that promise. As your friends turned their backs on you, scoffing about how your decision will affect you for the rest of your life, Oikawa was there when you needed him the most. He was on standby all hours of the day and night, his phone always on and beside him. When your family turned you away, calling you out on your sudden friendship with another Alpha while carrying a child, they kicked you out and you had nowhere else to go, Oikawa was there. When you felt your world crumbling around you, feeling hopeless and desperate, picking up a secret stash of painkillers, Oikawa was there to talk to you. He didn’t actively take away the pills, but he sat on the other side of the door and talked to you, listened to you. Even his mom was there for you when your family and friends had left you, but Oikawa stood beside you through it all.

Then your world crumbled again.

“I’m planning on moving to Argentina,” he had said. You were looking into colleges to further your education when he had knocked on your door, his old sister’s room, sitting on the bed.

“You’re.. leaving?” You wanted to add to that sentence, but you didn’t want to seem clingy. He’s been with you for so much, you’re not entirely sure you can be independent without him.

“It’s been almost 6 months since you met me. I actually went on that run to decide if I wanted to study abroad in Argentina, but after meeting you, I decided to wait. I’ve been studying the language and keeping up with local volleyball communities, but my dream is over there,” he explains. You click your pen and set it down, ready to ask if you should leave his house, but he continues. “I wanted to know if you’d come with me.”

“Wh- What?”

“I’ve been putting in extra time so we can both move together, get a fresh start,” his face tints as he speaks, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It seems a bit forward, now that I’m actually talking aloud about it. Sorry ‘bout that,” he chuckles, before clearing his throat.

“You want me.. to come with you?” You ask, unsure if you’re hearing correctly. He’s asking you to move to a new country with him, which is exciting! But, the baby.. “He is due soon, you know,”

“5 weeks, if I remember correctly,” he smiles, looking down at the large bump. You run a hand over it, solemnly nodding. “He’d be born in Argentina, our new home, if you come with me,”

“But Ushijima—”

“He’s abandoned you, officially. Your bond, it’s hardly noticeable anymore. The scent, I mean,” he corrects himself. “He’s basically just a sperm donor at this point,”

“This is.. very sudden, you know,”

“I know. And it’s also a very grand way of asking to court you, while also essentially marrying you, but I will say that if you choose to stay here, Iwa-chan will take care of you. He’s going to study in California for some amount of time, but that’s not for another few months. There is Mattsun and Makki, but I’m not too sure-”

“Okay, don’t stress yourself,” you giggle, getting him to stop. “I’ll go with you, but you gotta teach me the language,”

“I’ve been told I’m a great tutor, actually,”

“I believe it. Will the bond go away, or is it just the scent that’s gone?” He raises his brows at that.

“Ah, I guess you never took those classes. The bond is permanent, but another Alpha can lay claim on a mate that has been abandoned. I’d be honored to replace his bond with mine, but I’m sure you’ll need-”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him. He sputters as he processes the words, but then smirks.

“Are you sure? I don’t plan on making mistakes, so you’ll be stuck with me, you know?”

“Tōru, I’ve been ready for a while now. Hope you don’t mind bonding me while I’m pregnant,” your hand once more rubs the large bump, settling on the top.

“It just means I’ll have to wait until it’s my turn to try,” he licks his lips, moving towards the door. The locking sound seals your fate, keeping others from interrupting your moment.

- Years Later

“Koichi, come back here!” you shout, weaving in between the crowds. Aiko is somehow still asleep on your shoulder as you chase your son through the crowd. He’s been dying to meet his favorite uncle for quite some time, so see as he’s the trainer for the Nationals team of Japan, Koichi ran once the match ended. A brief Q&A with the members of the team would happen exactly right after they left the stadium, which he knew because of his father’s position.

You finally come to a stop, grabbing Koichi’s collar as he struggles to get through the crowd. “I told you to not leave me, and what did you do? Uncle Iwa isn’t going to suddenly disappear. He’s been waiting for this day, too, you know?”

“But mama! I told him I’d be the first one!”

“That’s impossible. The paparazzi gets to him first, that’s how it works in Hollywood movies,” you joke, but you pick him up. You’re no professional athlete, but you do stay in shape to take care of two children. As soon as you pick him up, he’s shouting as he sees Iwaizumi, trying to talk to the reporters. He catches Koichi’s waving hand and decides to take a break, going towards where you are as the crowd parts.

“How is the Oikawa family doing? I see Koichi is energetic,” he laughs, taking the boy from your arms.

“Ugh, as always. Don’t know where he gets it from, it’s not like his sister is bursting with energy all day,” you gesture to the child sleeping, despite the loud crowd.

“Well, definitely Oikawa’s kid. He sleeps through anything and so does she, jeez,” he sighs, but you just laugh. A few members of his team come over, excited by the new people.

“Iwa-chan, what’s this? Wife? Your kids?? You have kids???” A man with white and black hair says, giving Koichi a high five.

“Uh, no. They’re actually Oikawa’s wife and kids. I’m the favorite uncle, of course,”

“I wanna be the uncle! ‘Samu is never gonna get married, I need to be an amazing uncle somehow,” a man with platinum blond hair says, but he’s quickly pushed aside as a familiar face comes into view.

A face you didn’t want to see.

“[Y/N], I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ushijima says, tone as flat as ever. Iwaizumi takes on a forced smile as yours drops, a frown etched on.

“Didn’t expect to see you here either. Actually, ever again,”

“Oh?” The owlish man says, eyebrows quirked up as his eyes glance between the two of you.

“I see you moved on. I’m glad to see that,”

“No thanks to you,” the venom in your voice has Koichi turning to him, looking at the larger man with large eyes. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the resemblance. He’s got the same hair color and eyes as the man in front of you, taking hardly any features from you. Not to mention, Koichi is showing signs of presenting as an Alpha.

“Darling, that’s where you were!” Oikawa shouts from over the crowd, them parting so he can mingle with the group around you. “I was wondering where my personal cheerleaders went to,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His eyes meet Ushijima’s and despite being unable to smell the tension, you can feel it. Reporters and guests alike back away as the overwhelming tension of two Alphas clash.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says. Oikawa just tilts his head, looking over his opponent.

“I thought you’d look more defeated after I wiped the court with your ass, but I’m more disappointed in that. Emotionless as ever, aren’t you, Ushiwaka?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, then looks to you. “I’ve been meaning to say something to you, [Y/N],”

“Trust me, I don’t want to hear it. You’re too late, Wakatoshi. You’re much too late,” you say, before nodding at Iwaizumi. “I’m leaving,”

Despite turning to leave, Oikawa taking Koichi away from his uncle and new “uncles”, despite being in the middle of a loud crowd, you can hear him. It’s quiet, almost as if he knows the words are weightless, holding nothing after years of his abandonment. Despite Oikawa’s bond pulsing, your heart still yearns for the other man, what he could have given you and what he did to you. Despite all this, you’ve fantasized about hearing those words, yet they do nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took forever to publish but I hope it was worth the wait! I didn’t keep track of time while writing this, so if something seems wrong just ignore it. I might come back and fix it later but probably not lol ; Argentina residency rules and citizenship requirements were not consulted for this, seeing as it only took up like one sentence, but I might change it if I look more into it of course.

[besotted-eros]

taste of ale and towers

Eren Jaeger x F!Reader (PoC)

Summary: Your favourite patron finally makes a move, and it takes you into the sky.

Content: Unabashed fluff, some jealousy, mentions of alcohol, jealous!Eren. Scouts getting to be stupid. 

You liked your job.

Drunkards, vomit, and brawls aside. You enjoyed the warm atmosphere of the tavern, with its brick walls and its crackling fire. You enjoyed sorting through the clinking glasses and bottles, hearing the bar tales from old regulars and new faces. You were meticulous about cleaning, ensuring that this was one of the only taverns in the town that didn't reek of bile and piss. Instead the scent of soft hay, spiced mead and warm bread filled the room, fighting for dominance with the crowing laughs of the patrons. It was pleasant.

Yeah, you liked your job. Especially on nights like these.

"There is NOOOOO way you're taking credit for that one, that's all me." Connie's hand pushed into Sasha's face, his brows furrowed as the tall girl slapped his hand away and shoved a finger into his cheek.

"Yoush need ta shut up, Conster. Ain't a little tyke like you ever gonna get a titan THAT big. It was HUGE!" She burst from her seat, rocking the table and throwing her hands up to the ceiling. "IT WAS THIS BIG!" the table roared with laughter as Mikasa struggled to pull her back down. You smiled along with them as you filled a tankard. You'd have to cut her off soon.

"Stop knocking over drinks Sasha, you're going to give y/n more work."

The voice cut through the thrum of conversation. You could have picked the sound of him out of a storm, or a symphony. And it made your heart race every time.

You could feel him walking towards you through the crowd, and kept your eyes down. There was a deep scratch on the counter, and you dragged the rag over it repeatedly, until a hand entered your vision. His fingers were long, the skin taunt against bone and tendon. They were the hands of a soldier. But when he rested his it over yours, they were gentle.

"Hey, do you mind if I take this for a second?" Eren asked, his mouth twisted into a rueful grin as he nodded his head back towards his friends. "Don't want things to dry up and get sticky."

He was your most faithful patron. You knew that if he wasn't off saving humanity, he would be in your tavern after dinner at the barracks. But he never drank much, nursing a single beer, maybe two over a few hours.

"Oh, I can clean it myself!" You chirped, and his lower lip twitched slightly, head tilting.

"You're busy, it's okay. Let me." He pulled it away firmly, shooting you a small smile as he turned back. You were happy to see it. It seemed as though he smiled less and less these days. But there always seemed to be at least one for you. You regretted that you weren't able to sit with him tonight, have his gaze upon you as you leaned into his heat. He had been away for a few weeks, and you missed him. Even though he wasn't yours to miss.

"God, you might as well work here 'ren" Jean drawled, and the pale haired man's eyes flicked to yours. Eren scowled at him, wiping the table clean. "Would have pretty co-workers at least." You flushed at the compliment, turning on your heel to busy yourself with needlessly sorting bottles in the shelves. You could tell the group was appraising you now.

"Watch it." Eren snapped, flicking the rag quickly to snap against the scout's cheek. Jean grinned, smelling Eren's weakness. He snatched at the rag, tugging it from the green eyed man's grasp.

"I'll return this for you." Jean grinned, sliding out from the booth and padding through the crowded chairs and bodies. Before Eren could even formulate a way to get him to stop, he was at the bar, pushing his hair back and fixating you a handsome grin.

His friends stared with awe, even Sasha hushed by the sight of quiet rage in Eren's face.

"He's just blatantly making moves on your girl huh?" Connie commented, eliciting a glare from Eren.

"Don't have a 'girl', idiot. No clue what you're on about." Eren dropped into his seat, but his eyes were glued on how Jean was leaning over the bar, long arm outstretched to gesture to a jewel coloured bottle on the shelf. He was crowding you, leaning in so close. He could probably smell the scent of vanilla and rose, and see how prettily a lock of hair curled by your jaw.

"Oh puhlease, Errrren." Sasha took a sloppy swing of her ale, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "You look at her with those big ol' cow eyes, and you're here, what? Every night?" She looked around the table for validation, only met with an angry green stare as eyes of grey, blue and black averted strategically. "You don't even drink!" She rested the glass against her face, eyes closed and expression pulled into a caricature of mourning. "Oh, how will your love ever withstand this distance of 9 feet? How will you ever cross it?"

"Can you shut up and eat some peanuts or something?" Eren snapped, his face red. Armin's mouth was twitching as he fought back a smile, and Mikasa had pressed her wineglass to her lips for an uncharacteristically long amount of time, eyes twinkling over the rim.

"We're out of peanuts." Sasha was truly mournful now, pulling the bowl towards her with both hands.

"Yeah, maybe we can ask Jean's new girlfriend for a refill." Connie murmured into his hands. Sasha roared with laughter, and even Armin couldn't hold back a chuckle, looking sheepish when his best friend glared at him.

"Sorry, 'ren. But Sasha has a point y'know. You have to make a move eventually." His fingers were knit around the tall glass of mead in front of him. But his eyes were still sharp, and his smile kind.

"I'm not going to "make a move"." He replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You guys are making a big deal of nothing."

"Oh come on, just admit it." Connie exclaimed, rubbing his fingers over his dark buzz. "It's obvious she's crazy about you too. She doesn't sit with anyone else, literally just you. And it's not for the conversation, because you suck at that." Eren glowered as the table nodded solemnly. But he couldn't deny it made his heart beat faster.

"She looks at you the same way you look at her. Have you noticed that?" Armin asked, resting his chin on his hand.

Eren watched as you tucked a raven lock behind your ear, nodding as Jean spoke softly to you, his finger tracing the rim of a glass you had filled for him.

He hadn't noticed the way you look at him. He was too busy noticing how soft your eyes were, how you would always keep a place for children to sit behind the bar in case the room got too rowdy. How you'd stand your ground against men twice your size, sneering up at them in a way that was honestly intimidating. How gentle your hands were when they'd rest on his arm, laughing at some stupid joke or comforting him when he'd appear with bags under his eyes and ghosts on his breath.

"Do it." Came Mikasa's soft encouragement, nudging him from his seat. "Before Jean does."

Right as her voice met his ears, you laughed. It wasn't overly vibrant, or loud. But it was a laugh, Jean was making you laugh.

"He might kill him." Armin mused as they watched Eren elbow his way to the pair. Connie grinned, downing the rest of his drink.

"I always loved a bar fight."

"It's not that hard, when you get used to it." Jean was saying, the caramel of his eyes melting into yours as he attempted to hold your gaze. This wasn't the first time you had spoken to the tall scout, but it was the first time he had flirted so blatantly. "I could even show you sometime, could get on my back, or I could stra-" suddenly Jean's was on the ground, staring up in bewilderment as Eren made himself comfortable in the now empty stool. You blinked with confusion, lips rounded into a little o. It seemed that Eren had violently hipchecked the man off, and stolen his seat.

"You talk too much, Jean boy." He muttered. Jean scrambled up, chest expanded as he leaned in close to Eren's face.

"Say that again, Jaeger." He growled, threateningly.

"No." Eren's eyes refused to break from yours. But you could see that telltale bristling, and practically smell the pent up rage wafting from the men.

"If you boys fight in my bar, I'm going to have to throw both of you out." You warned, earning a sheepish look from both of them.

"Sorry, y/n." They said in chorus before glares snapped to each other again. You watched as Eren held Jean's gaze, and something unsaid passed between them. But finally Jean's face turned to a smile.

"Took you long enough." He scoffed, bumping the dark haired youth's shoulder as he walked back to his seat.

You looked at Eren, confusion making your lower lip press forward in a way that made his heart jump.

"Sorry about that." He mumbled, touching the back of his head. "We just... Fight a lot." You arched an eyebrow, a smiling playing on your lips.

"I can tell. But you're close."

He nodded, staring down at the drink Jean had abandoned.

"Can I get you anything? Tempt you into actually getting drunk tonight?" You removed the old glass and slid a new one into his hands. "You look like you need it."

He smiled, mouth twisting wryly. "I uh, can't get drunk."

"Oh? Why's that?"

He flexed his jaw, eyes refusing to meet yours. "Since I'm... Well a titan shifter. I regenerate too fast. As my body metabolizes it, I'm already healing. That's why Armin doesn't get drunk either." He motioned his shoulder towards the table, and as you looked over all their heads snapped away.

"That's fascinating." You said it sincerely, and met his gaze when his eyes raised. He had seemed timid to tell you. It's not that you didn't know, everyone knew. But not everyone accepted it.

"So, do you just really like the taste of our mead then?"

He chuckled, shrugging. "Yeah." His eyes flicked to yours, regarding you from under his dark lashes. "And the company."

You flushed, dragging your teeth over your lower lip. "Yeah, heard it's good here."

Eren grinned, running a hand through his hair. The fire caught the glossy chestnut of it, and you tried not to imagine what it would feel like under your fingertips.

"I like it, seeing you here." You absent-minded wiped a glass as you spoke, needing to channel the growing energy. "Makes me feel a bit..." You trailed off, biting your lower lip in earnest now. "Safe? Normal? Like things are going to be okay if I see you come through the door. The world hasn't exploded yet."

The youth had fallen silent. You wondered if you had overstepped, and raise your eyes to offer an apology. But his expression silenced you.

He looked at you with shining eyes, lips parted slightly with shock.

"I-" you began and were cut off by his hands slapping down on the counter as he leaned forward, gaze cutting through you. He was red, his cheeks like burning embers in the warm light, pretty mouth scrunched slightly to the side.

"Y/n, go out with me." He said, voice pitched and loud. You felt the tavern hush slightly, the loud drone muting as eyes turned to you. He blinked in surprise as you did, both of you caught off guard by the sudden intensity. He sat back on the stool, smile sheepish. "I uh, sorry. Will you go out with me?"

You let him stew for a moment. It was only fair, he made you wait so long for him to say those words. His smile faltered, eyes searching your face. But your lips curled into a smile.

"I'm off tomorrow."

The rap at your door was firm. You had wondered when it would happen, as you had seen Eren arrive at your door a little over ten minutes ago, staring nervously at the entry way. You had leaned out your window to watch him, the normally perceptive man oblivious to your wandering eyes. He had paced, wrung his hands, adjusted the backpack that weight on his shoulders.

"I'll be down in a second." You called, making him start and stare up at you open mouthed.

"Y/n,how, how long-?" He called up, but you shut the window quickly, holding back your laughter as you ran down the stairs, pausing to take a breath before throwing open the door.

"Hi," you said breathlessly, fixating him with a smile. He looked at you with mouth agape, eyes wracking over your form. He had only ever seen you in your typical work attire, a dingy apron tossed over an old puffed skirt, a modest button up to finish it off. So when you brushed your dark hair back off your shoulders, allowing his eyes to alight upon the soft skin of clavicle and chest. The blouse you had picked laid prettily off your shoulders, gripping onto the flesh of your upper arms. The soft cream complimented your brown skin in a way that would make Eren associate the shade with you forever.

"You... You look really beautiful, Y/n." He said finally, giving you a rougishly handsome half smile.

"You clean up well too." You replied, and he shrugged humbly The white button up was ironed with a soldier's precision, and the jacket he wore over it hugged the muscles in his arms temptingly.

"We match." He commented, gesturing to the dark green of your skirt and how it complimented the fabric of his jacket. You had chosen it because it reminded you of his eyes when the fire had gone down, right before you'd have to ask him to leave. He'd be heavy lidded, hair mussed and smelling like smoke. But would insist on helping you put up the chairs every time.

"So, where are we off to?" You asked, he turned quickly, face excited as he took a step. But then he paused, turning back around sheepishly. He offered you an arm, straightening his back. You held back a laugh at his excitement and containment of it. It was endearing, you thought as you took his arm and he began to guide you towards the outer wall.

"I uh... Made us a picnic." He said, helping you over a puddle. "Well not just me. Sasha, she made the sandwiches. But I helped." It made you flush to think that the whole regiment was probably aware of what you were doing currently. It didn't help that Eren took you over wall Rose, the basket pulley system making you cling to him under the gaze of the soldiers manning it. You stood together at the top for a moment, staring over at your district. He pointed out the barracks, and you pointed out your home. He moved closer to you to follow your pointing, needlessly close. But you liked it.

"We don't usually let civilians over like this." He whispered as he helped you into the basket on the other side. "But I told them you're special." He gave you an easy half smile.

"Trying to squeeze free booze from me, Jaeger?" You teased as he climbed in beside you. His arm was around your waist instantly, bracing as the descent begun.

"Yeah." He responded, and grinned back at him. He made the fear lessen.

You admired him as best as you could, stealing glances as he walked beside you through the forest. The dappled shade touched his high cheekbones, made his green eyes flash like emerald caught under a jeweler's light.

"Here!" He exclaimed finally, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you towards a clearing. In the middle of it was a tall, tall tower, a wooden outpost made for guards to keep an eye out for titans.

"Wait one second, okay?" Eren asked, holding your arms and placing you against the leg of the structure. He draped his jacket over you before climbing up the ladder, at a speed you thought was almost showoffish.

You leaned against the wood, listening as the tower creaked above you. It sounded like the trees that surrounded, a part of the landscape. You hugged Eren's jacket tighter to you, dipping your head to your shoulder to inhale the scent of him from the collar. It was clean, vibrant almost. A sharp smell that made you think of knives and the edge of his jaw. The fabric was coarse against your nose, obviously military grade, utilitarian in its design. But you thought of the way it would hug his slim shoulders, his muscular arms, how it would -

"Having fun?" Eren's voice called and your head snapped up to see him grinning from the entry hole. "I'm ready for you up here."

You pulled yourself up, hoping the exertion would hide the embarrassment. He helped you onto the platform, large hands firm on your body to hoist you up.

"Ta-da." He said, gesturing to the blanket laid out in front of you. On top of it he had arranged sandwiches, two glasses that had been filled with deep red wine, and a loaf you recognized as sweet bread, soldiers "desert" rations for special occasions. He had even bought candles, perched delicately in a spartan holder. "It's not much but..." He guided you over, shrugging slightly. "I hope you like it."

"I love it, Eren." You sunk down onto the blanket, grinning up at him. "Didn't know you were such a romantic."

He shrugged again, but his cocky grin told you he was pleased with himself. It became somber as he sat across from you, reclining back on his hands.

"Just don't get the chance to do this, y'know." He said softly, voice gentle enough to be carried away by the breeze. The walls were low here, and even while sitting you could see over top. The forest seemed to go on forever, a sea of shimmering greens. You felt an intimate fondness for them and with a start realised why, as you looked back towards the man sitting across from you. He held the colour of life in his eyes, verdant and vibrant.

"I'm honoured that you're using it on me, then." You replied, earning yourself a warm smile. Your heart leapt at the sight of it, and you decided that even if this was the only time you'd get him to yourself, you'd make the most of it.

"There's no one else I'd rather." His voice was genuine, and seemed to even catch himself off guard. He blushed, prettily. "Uh, dig in." He grabbed his sandwich, quickly stuffing it into his mouth.

You pretended not to watch him eat, how his tongue would dart out to wet his lips or how you could see his Adams apple bob with every swallow. And he pretended not to watch you drink, how your lips pursed on the rim, how you'd hold the cool glass against your cheek as you listened to him speak. Hours passed like that, the food long reduced to crumbs and fuel to press the conversation forward.

He spoke mostly about his friends. Stories that showcased Armin's smarts or Mikasa's fortitude. You liked how he looked when he slipped into fond memories. Eyes glossy, smile crooked. He spoke with his hands, painting scenes with every movement of his fingers. Sasha grasping Mikasa by the shoulders, Jean being bowled over by an over excited Connie. The wind would wind it's fingers through his hair. It was long, not long enough to pull into a ponytail but long enough that it stroked the nap of his neck. The sun reflected the golden threads in it, and you wondered if there was any part of the forest that wasn't a part of him.

And he listened to you as though you were a preacher saving his soul. Eyes wide, leaned forward and nodding intently. You felt seen in a way you hadn't before. Sure people had looked at you, long and hard and even leering. But no one saw you like Eren did.

"The view is beautiful." You commented after some time, standing to walk over to the ledge. The sky had painted itself an orange peel, with a glowing lemon for a setting sun. You peered over the low wall, swallowing your vertigo. Eren followed you, and after a small pause placed an arm slowly around your waist. You felt his warmth glow through you, and were comforted.

"Yeah," he said, gazing at you as though you had hung the moon. "It is."

You let your head drop, leaning it against his shoulder. Intimacy was a stranger to the soldier, something that had no place in his life. In fact, Eren was almost scared. After titans and gore, after horrors that would rise bile for even the most hardened veterans, it was your soft figure that made him speechless. He didn't know how to hold you, didn't know what to do with the elation that filled his heart at the sensation of you soft and compliant in his arms.

Should he kiss you now? He thought as your face turned towards his. Your eyes were sparkling, smile so sweet it was almost saccharine. He could see peace in your face. A soft rest, head nestled somewhere warm with only the sound of heartbeats. But before he could close the space between you, a loud squak startled you away. Eren's grip on your waist tightened and he stepped you back from the ledge cautiously. In front of you a bird burst through the canopy, rushing towards the sky as another followed hot upon its tail. You watched as they cartwheeled through the sky, shrieks loud and grating.

You placed a hand over your heart, letting out an airy laugh. "Thank you, I would jumped right over."

"Glad you didn't. " He murmured, reflecting your smile. "It would suck to have to jump after you." The look on your face was unreadable, and Eren worried that he said something wrong. He was afraid of that, to love you wrong. What else would be expected of someone like him? He didn't know how to treat a woman, let alone someone like you. What was he thinking of, trying to kiss you. You, with your radiant smile that cut through the subdued warmth of the tavern and straight into his chest.

"Should probably pack this up," Eren began, turning back to the blanket. A soft tap on his shoulder made him turn back to you, eyebrow cock with question. Only to be met by your lips, crashing into his. The force made him step back, catching you by the waist. For a moment he feared you would actually topple over the side.

You kissed him exactly how he had dreamt. Like a stormcloud, soft but full, wetting the desert of him. Your hands cradled his cheeks, tender in how you held them. Eren couldn't remember the last time he had been touched so softly.

When you broke away, he was blushing.

"I... Wow." He managed to get out, chest rising and falling with the force of his breath. "I didn't expect that."

"I'm sorry," you murmured demurely, making to step back. "It's just that..." You chewed on your lower lip, and he thought about how you were most likely tasting him. "You meant it. That you would jump after me. I liked that."

The smile spread like a wildfire across Eren's face. "I did." He said breathlessly, pulling you back towards him. This time he kissed you, fingers sliding their way from your jaw into your hair.

When your lips broke again, you wondered how you were still standing. Your heart felt as though it could break through the canopy itself, and your knees fragile enough to give under the next strong gust. Eren was in a similar state, all red face and gentle hands, feeling their way through the length of your hair. He ran his fingers through it, from root to tip, repeating the motion has the wind fought him for the chance to stroke your locks.

"Been wanting to do this." He whispered, hand going still on the back of your neck. "From the moment I first met you."

You rolled your eyes, trying to quell the fluttering that grew in your stomach. "Use more lines on me, Jaeger."

His dark brow furrowed, and he used his grip on your hair to pull you closer. It embarrassed you how heat ran through your body as he did it. "'ts not a line, y/n. I mean it." He dipped his head to rest his forehead against yours, green eyes boring into you. His hands slid down you, moving like a landslide. You felt the topography of your body would be forever changed by him, born anew by the fact he was touching you. They came to settle on your hips, and he hummed into another kiss.

"You were fighting someone." Eren said finally, and you let out a quick laugh. "No, really. When I first saw you, you were fighting someone." You felt like you were falling when you saw the expression on his face. He recounted seeing you like he recounted his friends, eyes soft and full of adoration for the memories that made him whole. "I had gone for a walk, just needing to clear my head. And all of a sudden in front of me this door swung open, and a man stepped out. Nonchalant, holding it open as he checked his watch. And all I could hear was this... Yelling." He laughed, squeezing you slightly as you leaned into him. A part of you wanted to press your face into his neck, to find how the curves of your body fit. But you needed to see his face as he spoke about you. Commit it to memory. "And then this fucking hulk of a man stumbled out, and he was *blabbering* like a kid. Just apologising, over and over again. And then you," he paused for a moment to press another kiss to your lips. "You come out holding a broom like I've held a blade, just ready to kill. And you had it up against his chin, right here." Eren dipped his head and nudged yours back, exposing the expanse of your throat. His lips found the thin skin of where your neck curved into your chin, and he kissed it. "Your hair was a mess, and the light made it look like you had a halo. No wonder the man ran." He held you by the small of your back now, dipping you slightly. Your eyes had fluttered closed as he clung to him. "And you caught my eye as you turned, God I must have looked like an idiot. But you caught my eye and you smiled. Apologised, and then thanked the man holding the door so sweetly. And I thought..." He pulled away now, blushing.

"You thought what?" You pressed, pressing into him.

"What mouth you'd kiss with. If you'd kiss hard and passionate, or soft and sweet." He gave you a boyishly handsome smile. "It's both. "

You pressed your lips to his again. And again. The sun set against your entwined bodies, and Eren had a feeling the night watch wouldn't be impressed with his request to come back over. But it didn't matter, he thought as you pulled away to smile up at him, brighter than the moon. Because this was worth it.

[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years, Ch. 7

A George Weasley Fanfiction

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story.

Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader’s life together.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author’s note: i know i’m like 3 months late on posting this chapter, but i promise i haven't abandoned this fic. 

Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5, Year 6 

Year 6, Part 2:  Fireworks

 The heavy rain soaked through your clothes as you made your way into King’s Cross. It had been raining hard since early that morning, and the heavy gloom that hung over London was starting to take hold in your chest. The events of two weeks prior were impossible to purge from your mind, and on days like this the memories slowly crept their way forward. You swore that green skull could illuminate the sky again at any moment, so instead, you forced yourself to think about other things. 

You uncle and dad had been talking for weeks about an event happening at Hogwarts this year, but they wouldn’t give anything away. All you knew was that you needed a fancy dress, which you bought a week ago at a second hand store. It now sat in the bottom of your trunk, its intended use unknown to you for now. 

You no longer needed the motivation to run through the brick wall that separated platforms 9 and 10, like you did in your first year. You and your father casually waited by the wall, wringing the water from your clothes, as you watched the muggles pass by. When all was clear, you casually leaned against it, disappearing suddenly to anyone who might’ve cared to notice. 

The steam from the scarlet coloured engine filled the platform, the people rushing about looking more like ghosts than corporeal beings. You searched briefly for a family of redheads, but quickly gave up and turned your attention to the items you had brought with you. 

You checked quickly on Minnie, whose carrier was concealed under your rain jacket on top of your trunk. She was dry, just a little perturbed at all the movement happening on the trip here. 

“You packed the camcorder, right?” your father asked. “And the extra tapes?”

“Yes,” you told him, “they were the first things I packed.” 

“And you’re sure you know how to use it?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure we went over it about 100 times.”

“I just don’t want you to get there and then not be able to capture anything,” he said, looking around at the people on the platform. He lowered his voice a bit to speak the next part. “It’s going to be a very fun year. I don’t want you to forget any of it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Will you please stop being so secretive, and tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” he told you. 

You were about to protest and beg for more information when three more people came through the platform portal. Ron, Hermione, and Harry appeared before you, squinting through the steam. 

“Oh, look!” your dad cut you off, ignoring the annoyed look on your face. “Friends! Now, go get on the train with them. I might see you sooner than you think.”  

You said a very quick goodbye before turning to the three newcomers. They were still looking through the steam, trying to orientate themselves before heading to the train. You snuck up as quietly as your trunk would allow, thankful that the train engine was letting off some noise. 

“What’re you looking for?” you shouted, right in between Ron and Harry’s heads. It caused all three of them to jump; the owls in the cages they were holding hooted frantically as they got tossed around. 

“Please don’t do that,” Hermione voiced as she clutched her chest. 

“Sorry,” you said, smiling, “I couldn’t resist.” You turned your head to look at the brick wall briefly. “Where is..”

“Your boyfriend?” Ron butt in. He turned to Harry and made a fake gagging noise. Harry let out a laugh, amused at his friend’s actions. 

“Right behind you,” a familiar voice said. You turned to see Charlie, Fred, and George. George was smiling brightly at you. “We just passed your dad on the other side of the barrier.” 

“Charlie!” you exclaimed, giving him a quick hug. “I expected you to be back in Romania by now.”

“Do we even exist?” George whispered to Fred. 

“Apparently not when Charlie’s around,” Fred answered. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to the twins. “I’m gonna see you two constantly for the next 10 months. I rarely see Charlie.” 

“I took extended time off,” Charlie said, answering your question, “because I’ll be working a little extra in a couple of months.” 

Ginny, Bill, and Mrs. Wealsey made their way through the wall behind the twins. 

“Hello,” Mrs. Weasley greeted upon seeing you. 

“Molly, it’s so good to see you. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see you at the Quidditch Cup,” you told her, giving her a hug. 

“Quidditch isn’t really my thing, dear,” she informed you. “But I might get to see you all again soon.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you asked. 

“It’s nothing,” she said, pushing you back towards Fred and George. 

“We should get going,” you said to the twins. “We need to find Lee and seats” 

The twins said goodbye to their family, and you all headed off through the steam towards the train. You found Lee, who had already boarded and was saving a compartment for the three of you. You stuffed your trunks above the seats and put Millie’s carrier in the seat next to the door. 

It was a weird feeling, purposefully sitting so close to George on the train; him next to the window and your head leaning on his shoulder so you could watch the countryside pass by. Really, it’s not like much had changed from being just friends to dating. You had always sat close to each other before, even holding hands when the situation allowed for it. Something seemed to change over the last couple months, though, and now you felt more comfortable than ever resting your head against George. 

Maybe it was the fact that you could hold hands now without people whispering in the background and speculating about you. Or the fact that you could run your hands through his hair, which he had let grow a little longer over the summer, and not be worried about accidentally looking into his brown eyes and having to hide your embarrassment over the matter. You could freely count the freckles splattered across his face and name the constellations you made in them. Freckles that would always remind you of the falling snow on the night you first kissed. 

At some point, you let Minnie out of her carrier, letting her roam freely around the compartment, careful to make sure the door was securely closed. She eventually found a comfy stop on the seat between Fred and Lee. You watched as she curled up into a ball, her tail carefully covering her eyes, as if to block out any light. 

As the train rolled on and the rain outside got heavier, the windows fogged up, making it impossible to see outside. You turned your full attention to the conversation happening. Lee was talking about what he did over break, and brought up the Quidditch World Cup. 

Your eyes moved briefly to the window, thinking you might see the bright green light shining through the rain. George saw your movement and squeezed your hand in reassurance, a small smile on his face. You smiled back at him, telling him that you’d be alright. 

Lee mentioned that his father had been cheated out of money over a bet he made with Ludo Bagman at the Cup. 

“That dirty little cheat!” Fred yelled at the mention of Bagman’s name, causing Minnie to startle beside him. 

“He took our money, too,” George added on. “He paid us back in leprechaun gold.” 

“That’s exactly what he did to my dad,” Lee said. 

“You bet all the money you had saved, didn’t you?” you asked Fred and George. 

“Yeah,” Fred sighed. 

“We’ll have to find another way to open the shop now,” George said. 

“I still have some money saved up,” you told them. “About 20 Galleons when converted from muggle money. It’s not much but maybe we could find something to invest it in.”

“We couldn’t ask you to give us your money,” Fred said. 

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s other things you could use that money for, right? ” George inquired. 

“Not really,” you told them. “I’ve always planned to help you with Weasley Wizard Wheezes one way or another. Whether that be through money or inventing inventory.” 

“Oh,” George said rather quietly beside you. “Thank you.” 

You leaned up and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you, Georgie.” 

“And you know I’m always here to test out products,” Lee chimed in. 

“Oh, speaking of which,” you voiced, “did you finish those Canary Creams in the last two weeks?” 

“Not quite,” George told you. “There’s still some kinks to work out, but give us a few weeks and some of Snape’s potion supplies and we’ll get them done.” 

“But!” Fred said, pulling a small, wrapped treat out of his pocket. “We did nail down the yellow hair color.”

“Now we have all the house colors down,” George finished. 

“And I think we should take advantage of that,” you said with a grin. You grabbed the sweet from Fred’s hand. “This one’s yellow?” He nodded. “And you guys still have a beef against Cedric for winning the quidditch match last year?” 

“We should’ve gotten a rematch,” all three of them said in unison. 

“I know, I know,” you said, faking sympathy. 

The rest of the train ride was spent slipping sweets into other student’s train compartments and hiding in the hallway until you heard a couple screams. Cedric didn’t really seem to mind too much; being more embarrassed of the attention his friends were giving him because of it, opposed to being mad. You did manage to slip a pink one into Draco’s compartment, but one of his oversized bodyguards ended up eating it instead. 

You found Adrian Pucey, who was trying to rekindle your friendship a little bit. He had written to you over the summer a few times. You gave him a blue haired sweet just because you wanted to see if the color would look good on him. It really didn’t, as the Ravenclaw blue didn’t mix with his complexion very well. You made him promise to sit next to you at the welcome feast, and you’d reverse the effects then. 

Overall, you were very happy to be going back to Hogwarts where you’d be able to hang out with your friends again. 

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

The term seemed to pass too quickly with all the Tournament excitement going on. You had been concerned for Harry ever since his name was pulled out of that blasted goblet, but ever since he won the first task, he seemed to be in a much better mood. 

You had snuck out of the castle the night before the first task with Fred and George to meet up with Charlie. He had excitedly shown you the dragons they had brought from Romania, their fiery breaths keeping you warm in the cool November air. You had never seen creatures like this upclose before, and they intrigued you enough to think for just a moment that maybe you wouldn’t mind working in Romania with Charlie. 

A month after that, you found Hogwarts covered in snow, the winter chill finally settling in the castle corridors. Fireplaces blazed in every room, warming you ever so slightly as you sat by them. The fireplace in your dorm room did little to help fight the cold of the Black Lake. Again, just like last year, you spent most of your nights in the Gryffindor common room, curled up next to George by their roaring fire. 

Minnie took to spending her nights in George’s room. She seemed to be making friends with Crookshanks, as you would sometimes find them cuddled together in the common room. 

At times you felt bad for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Their carriage and ship didn’t seem like the warmest of homes. You’d look across the school grounds and see them covered in ice and snow, and it would send a shiver down your spine every time. 

Christmas Eve came, and the entire school was filled with excitement over the Yule Ball the next day. You were excited too, but there was one more thing you needed to do before that day came. 

You had told George to meet you in the Astronomy tower in his pajamas at 10pm on Christmas Eve, a surprise all planned out in your head. You had stolen the radio from the Slytherin common room for the night. It had taken you and Adrian over a week to figure out how to get muggle radio stations to play on it, but eventually you got past all the magical interference and were able to listen to muggle music for the first time in almost four months. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy The Weird Sisters, but sometimes you just missed the music your mum would listen to at home. 

You set up your camcorder in one corner of the tower by the stairs, getting as much of the room in frame as you could. With no one else in the room to film, it would be the best shot you could get with the camera. 

You met George at the base of the tower five minutes before 10, confusion etched on his face. 

“I see you wore the pajamas with a little lion embroidered on them,” you teased him, reaching for his hand. “My cute little Gryffindor.” 

He blushed at your words, but he took your hand nonetheless and let you lead him up the stairs. 

“You’re literally wearing the same ones but with a snake embroidered,” George said. 

“Hey, your mum made them, and I love them,” you told him. You squeezed his hand as you both laughed. 

Music from the radio played softly from the top of the tower, a song that neither of you had heard before. When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused briefly to press the record button on the camera. This caused a confused look to make its way onto George’s face, but you reassured him that nothing harmful was going to happen.  

You pulled him to the middle of the room, the chill from the winter night just barely reaching you. Pulling him close to you, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. George instinctively put his arms around your waste. You started to sway to the slow song coming from the radio.

“We haven’t been up here in a while,” George whispered. 

“Not since fourth year when we flew right into the middle of Professor Sinistra’s nighttime class,” you said, laughing. 

“Hey, we both expected her to have a midnight class that night,” George said, “not an 8pm class.” 

“I didn’t even mind the detention we got from it,” you told him. “I was just happy that I beat you in the race up here.” 

“I remember you cheating to beat me up here,” George said, wrinkling up his nose to tease you. “You and your old money Malfoy broom nearly knocked me into the castle wall.” 

“All’s fair in love and war, Georgie,” you said. “I was just using the speed that broom gives me to its full potential.” 

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d still be mad about it.” He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “I still can’t believe you finally let me kiss you a year ago now.”

“You can thank Charlie for that actually. He gave me a little pep talk before I came outside that night.” You rested your head against his chest, listening to him hum along to the music. “Do you know this song?” 

“I’ve heard you play it before while you were at my house. I quite like it.” 

You pulled yourself as close to George as possible, trying to absorb his body heat. You hadn’t really thought about the open balcony and the winter weather when you planned this out. You leaned against him and swayed with the song, only really listening to his heartbeat through his chest. When the song was over and a more upbeat one came on, you pulled away just enough to look at his face. 

“Do you think Dumbledore really got The Weird Sisters to play tomorrow night,” you asked. 

“I hope so,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s all everyone’s been talking about the past few days.” 

“Speaking of the ball,” you started, “Did Fred ever ask that girl he likes to go with him?” 

“He asked Angelina a few days ago,” George told you. You wrinkled up your face in confusion. “What? They’re going as friends.” 

“But what about that Hufflepuff girl that he talks about constantly?” you asked. “I expected him to ask her, and I thought Lee and Angelina would go together.” 

“Lee’s going with a Ravenclaw fifth year, actually,” he informed you. “One of Cho Chang’s friends. Cedric actually set them up.” He seemed to have a hard time admitting that Cedric could do something nice for someone. George and Fred really held a grudge when it came to quidditch. 

“Cedric’s a good person, you know?” you said. “He wanted to have that rematch. But back to Fred; why is he being an idiot about his crush?”

“Because he is an idiot in general,” George said laughing. “He asked Angie just to prove to Ron that he had a date. He didn’t think it through.” 

You let out a sigh. “He’ll never learn.” 

The next song started with a familiar tune. “George, I think you’ll love this one!” 

You pulled away from him and grabbed his hand. There was no rhythm to your dancing, but it was fun nonetheless. George left all his worries behind and danced with you, not caring that you two definitely looked like idiots. He did really like the song that was playing, and he enjoyed it even more knowing that you loved it. 

You turned your camcorder off after that song, saving room on the tape for the next night too. You walked with George to the balcony, braving the cold to look over the snow covered grounds. Hogwarts really did look beautiful at this time of night. The moon reflected off the white snow and shone brightly over the Black Lake. The ship and the carriage looked like mere children’s toys from this far away. 

You rested your head against George’s shoulder as you both leaned against the railing. “Thank you, George.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For being my best friend, I guess,” you said. “It means a lot to me to have someone like you in my life.” 

“I’m glad I have you too,” He kissed the top of your head. 

You moved your head to kiss him properly, his body heat warming your face as you leaned in. The smell of potions clung to his skin, as he had been working on new products the entire last week. You caught the scent of a rather sweet one, and breathed in deeply. You pulled away reluctantly, but the cold was getting to you and you needed to head inside. 

George picked up the camera as you grabbed the radio, turning it off. You walked quietly down the stairs, hoping not to run into anyone at the bottom. He offered to walk you to your dorm, but you knew that Gryffindor tower was a lot closer than the dungeons, so you walked him there.

“Keep the camera for tomorrow,” you told him. “Record whatever mischief you get up to in the morning and then put it in the Great Hall.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He leaned in for one more kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hurried off down the hall as he climbed through the portrait hole. Sneaking down to the dungeons at this hour required a bit of stealth and luck, but you had done it enough to basically know the patrol schedules. You made it to the common room after only one near run in with a teacher, but you ducked behind a statue, just barely avoiding them. 

There were a few students left in the common room, so you casually put the radio back in its spot on the table. Hopefully no one had missed it too much. 

You made your way to your dorm room, opening the door quietly to not wake your roommates. The last embers of the fire were still burning in the fireplace, and they gave you just enough light to be able to see your way to your bed. The light from the moon didn’t reach this deep into the Black Lake when there was a layer of ice on top of it, so your windows remained pitch black. 

You laid in bed, pulling the quilt from last Christmas as close to you as you could. You breathed in the earthy smell and let out a content sigh. Sleep found you easily that night, and your mind raced with dreams of what tomorrow might be like. 

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

The buzz and excitement in the air was contagious as everyone got ready before the ball. You had spent the morning in the common room with Adrian, trying to get him to tell you who he was going with, but he refused, saying that you’d find out in a few hours anyway. 

“Why won’t you just tell me?” you asked, leaning forward and narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Why does it matter so much?” he asked in return, ignoring the look you were giving him. 

“Because I want a picture of us and our dates,” you said, “and if I don’t know who your date is, then I can’t force them to take the picture.” 

“I promise you’ll get your picture,” he said. “I’m meeting up with him in front--”

You nearly sprang to your feet, but kept yourself in your chair when you saw the look of embarrassment on his face. 

“So it’s not the seventh year Ravenclaw girl that has a crush on you,” you said, putting your hands over your mouth to think a bit. “I really thought it was her.”

Adrian looked flustered, his cheeks turning red. “What? No, no, she doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“She does,” you told him bluntly. “She asked me if you had a date about two weeks ago. I told her yes, but seeing as you won’t tell me who, I couldn’t give her more information.” 

Adrian sank back into the couch, wishing this conversation would end. You looked at him, still thinking about who he could be going with. 

“The Beauxbatons boy who wouldn’t stop staring at you on their first night here?” you pondered, but he remained quiet. “The fifth year Hufflepuff who ran into you in the hall last month? He’s cute and rather shy. I remember him apologizing profusely. I noticed him ducking his head away from you when we’d pass him in the hall after that.” 

You watched him for a reaction that would give you a yes or no answer, but all you noticed was his face getting redder. Adrian never really talked about crushes and who he liked. This conversation about people who maybe liked him seemed to be a little much for him. 

“Alright, one more guess,” you said, “and then I promise I’ll drop it until tonight.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye. You took it as a sign to go on. “It’s not one of your dorm mates, is it? They’re rather all kinda assholes.”  

You finally got a laugh out of him at that. “Absolutely not. I know them all way too well to ever want to go on a date with any of them.” 

“Good, just checking to make sure you were still sane,” you said, standing up. “I’ll see you in a bit. Meet back here before we head up?” Adrian gave a small nod as you headed towards your dorm. 

You got ready while the rest of your roommates chatted around you. The dress you had picked out just before the school year started hung from a hanger on your four poster bed. The purple fabric of it was accented nicely by some small gold details. You had added a little bit of magic to it over the past few months, making it more your own, rather than just a second hand find. 

You found Adrian a few hours later, sitting in the same spot you had left him; his casual clothes now swapped out for dress robes, and his hair neatly styled. 

“You look nice,” you told him, causing him to look up. 

“Thanks.” He stood up, scratching the back of his neck. He looked at you, taking in your dress. “You look great. Did you get the sparks to work?” 

“Yes!” you said excitedly, looking down at the gold details. “Technically not sparks, but you’ll see. Wait till George can see them too. Can you carry this?”

You handed him your disposable camera, and he quickly put it in his pocket. He held out his arm, and you easily linked yours in it. You headed out of the common room, ready to meet up with your dates.

Walking up the stairs from the dungeons, the first person you saw standing in front of the Great Hall was Ron in his interesting dress robes. He was staring angrily at two people as they walked into the hall. It took a second to realize the girl was Hermione, having never seen her with her hair done like that before. You recognized the boy as Viktor Krum when he turned to greet one of his friends as he walked past them. 

Viktor’s friend turned in your direction, and his face lit up with a smile as he saw you and Adrian. You turned to Adrian, who was smiling just as brightly back at the Durmstrang boy. 

“A Durmstrang boy?” you whispered to Adrian as you made your way over to him. The boy was tall, at least a few inches taller than Adrian, and his long dark hair hung to his shoulders. When he reached the two of you, he turned his attention to you and took your hand, kissing it softly. His green eyes looked into yours briefly. 

“Adrian has talked a lot about you,” the boy said, dropping your hand. He looked back over at Adrian, the softest expression on both of their faces.

“This is Georgi,” Adrian introduced you. You looked at him, trying to hide your expression of slight shock. 

This is exactly why he wouldn’t tell you the name of his date. He knew you would tease him about going to the ball with a boy who shared a name so similar to your boyfriend. In all honesty though, the two boys were almost nothing alike. Georgi seemed a little more subdued and quiet, opposed to George who, though quieter than his brother, was still too loud for his own good. 

While making polite conversation with Adrian and his date, you were also trying to find the twins in the crowd of people. You noticed them coming down the stairs with Lee and Angelina, Lee soon hurrying off to find his date. 

You nudged Adrian in the side and gestured towards the twins. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded at you, and you set off through the crowd. 

“George!” you called as you ran up and hugged him. He and Fred were wearing matching outfits, probably passed down from their uncles to them.  

“Hello.” George pulled you back from the hug, looking at you fully. “You’re beautiful.” 

You ignored his statement, trying to hide the heat rising on your face. “Come on, I want you to meet Adrian’s date.” You looked at Fred and Angelina. “You too. I want a picture.” You pulled George’s hand, leading the group back through the crowd. 

“You put the camcorder in the Great Hall, right?” you said over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” George confirmed. “About an hour ago. You’ll just need to hit record.” 

Meeting up with Adrian again, you gestured to George, introducing him to the Durmstrang boy. “George, this is Georgi. Georgi, George. My boyfriend.” 

They stared at each other for half a second before Fred butted in. 

“Well, isn’t that fun,” he said with a grin. 

You just grinned at Adrian, a smug look on your face.

You introduced Fred and Angelina and chatted for a bit before pulling another student over, who you knew was muggleborn, to take a picture of the six of you. Adrian nudged you and pointed to your dress. You looked down at it before realizing what he was suggesting. 

“Oh,” you said, catching the attention of the group. “I almost forgot. I added a little magic to my dress. Adrian, do you mind doing the honors?”

He pointed his wand at your dress, and a translucent, almost invisible smoke came out of the end. Tendrils of smoke reached out, attaching themselves to the center of each little gold detail and then disappearing into the dress. Each gold detail began to shake, as if filled with an immense energy. Suddenly, the details exploded across the dress, mimicking fireworks to the best of their ability. After a moment, they settled into their original shape. 

The group was staring at you, transfixed on what had just happened. 

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before,” Georgi finally said, a look of wonder on his face. 

“That’s because Adrian and I invented it, just for this,” you told him. You smiled as you looked over at Adrian. “We’ve been working on spells and such all of term in our free time. So far we only got the radio to work, and now this. This one isn’t perfect though. The smoke isn’t supposed to be there; it’s supposed to just be an immediate effect.”

George could tell that you were rambling now. He could see that your ramblings were bringing your excitement over the fantastic job you did down into doubt about how it didn’t work exactly how you wanted it to. He reached out and grabbed your hand. 

“It was beautiful,” he said. He looked into your eyes, trying to bring your attention to only him, trying to calm you down. “You know I love fireworks. Maybe they could be a part of the uniform at our shop.”

You smiled at him, giving a small laugh. “That would be wonderful.”

You turned back to the group and noticed Angelina standing by herself, Fred nowhere in sight. “Where’s Fred gone off to?” 

“He said he needed to talk to someone,” Angelina said, pointing towards the stairs that led towards the kitchens. 

You turned, expecting to find Fred putting a firecracker in someone's robes, but instead found him trying to get the attention of the Hufflepuff girl. She was standing close to another Durmstrang boy, but looked rather uncomfortable at the whole situation. She kept trying to scoot closer to Cedric, but every time she did, the Durmstrang boy would scoot with her. Cedric said something to her before he took Cho by the hand and led her into the Hall. Fred called her name again, but she continued to ignore him, instead saying something to her date before they too walked to the Hall. 

“Why didn’t he just ask her?” Angelina asked beside you. “I would’ve been fine going with someone else.”

“Because he’s an idiot,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re not wrong,” Angelina agreed. 

The entrance hall was getting emptier as everyone filed into the Great Hall. You took this as the cue to follow suit. You stood in the large crowd, pressing play on your camcorder as the school champions were ushered to the dance floor. The dancing started, and George almost immediately pulled you to the dance floor as more people joined in. 

The night went by quickly, but you would always be able to watch it back thanks to your camcorder, and look at pictures that you took. 

Your favorite picture by far was one of Adrian squished in a hug between the twins, their red hair and gold vests standing out extravagantly against his all black outfit. Adrian and the twins were still not the best of friends, but over the past few months they had all agreed to try to get along for your sake. The twins liked to show their progress through aggressive acts of friendliness. 

The videos were another story. They showed the night in motion and sound, something you were eternally thankful for. You could never give enough thanks to your dad for buying the camcorder for you. 

The video of the school champions dancing showed Hermione being the happiest you had ever seen her. It was quickly interrupted by you laughing as George pulled you onto the dance floor, followed by Fred grabbing Angelina to dance with him. It even caught a bit of McGonagall dancing with Dumbledore, a surprising sight, as you had thought you would never see either of them dancing in your life. 

You caught a video of Percy, zoomed way in on his grumpy face as he watched his ex-girlfriend dancing with someone else. Penelope looked happy with the boy she was dancing with though. You knew in a few years, hopefully, Percy would be able to laugh at his emotions too. 

You got Fred and George pulling Percy, Ron, and Harry out of their seats as The Weird Sisters started to play. Ginny joined their group to dance with her brothers; the three excited Weasleys trying their best to dance the grumpiness out of the others. You set the camera down on a table, facing the group and ran to grab Adrian and Georgi. Passing Angelina and Alicia on the way back, you told them to come with you too. Your large group now took up much of the dance floor, but no one seemed to mind as you all jumped around to the song the band was playing. 

The next video had the band playing a slower song in the background. The camera just sitting on a table, having been accidentally turned on by someone. It showed the Hufflepuff girl sitting at a table with Percy. They were talking, but the music drowned out any words that they were saying. Percy looked a little happier than he did earlier. Fred came into frame, sitting next to Percy, but putting his whole attention on the girl. She said a few short words to him, but when it was obvious she didn’t want to talk, he got up and walked towards the camera. He must have noticed it was on, because he mumbled a few words at it before the video cut off. 

There was a short video of you and Adrian walking outside in front of the castle, lights sparkling around you. George and Fred were a few paces ahead of you, talking about something you couldn’t hear. Georgi had offered to record for a bit, even though he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. The video cut off abruptly when the camera was dropped. 

The last video on the camera was George recording you as you were leaving the Hall for the night. 

“How was your night,” he asked from behind the camera. 

“I had a great night,” you told him, walking backwards. You were holding up your dress so you didn’t trip. “Better than some people.”

The camera panned over to Fred, who flicked it off. He had a smile on his face, though, so you knew he still had a wonderful time. George moved the camera to catch Angelina in frame. 

“Did you still have a good time,” he asked her, “even though your date was kinda a drag?” 

“I had a wonderful time,” Angelina said as she put her arms around Alicia and Katie, who were walking beside her. “I still had my best friends to lift the mood.” 

“And what about you,” George turned so now he was walking backwards, camera pointed at Adrian and Georgi. They were walking hand in hand, Adrian’s head resting on Georgi’s shoulder. 

“It was alright,” Adrian said, smiling up at his date. Georgi squeezed Adrian’s hand. 

You had now reached the base of the stairs that led up to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone stopped walking to say their goodbyes. 

“One more thing,” you said to the camera. “I wanna get my spell on record.” You grabbed out your wand and pointed it at your dress, setting the fireworks in motion. 

“Beautiful, as always,” George hummed behind the camera. “I think this is where we part ways.” He took your hand in his. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.” 

The video stopped as you leaned in to kiss him. 

[seijorhi]

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice. 

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise. 

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot. 

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole. 

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one. 

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror. 

He hasn’t moved. 

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort. 

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks. 

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness. 

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more. 

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.” 

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes. 

Only for a moment. 

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s. 

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ super duper party people ✦

this chapter pairing; incubus!96z(Jun/Hoshi/Wonwoo/Woozi) x reader

genre&warnings; this is literally a 5-some djfhsd(96z gangbang hskshdksjh). incubus!seventeen, double penetration/anal, blowjobs, handjobs, cum eating, bukakke,  (minor)subspace, tentacles(as if there weren’t enough cocks in this), 2woo(wonwoo/woozi) have a (minor)crying kink don’t look at me, degradation/namecalling/dumbification, dirty talk. ☠️ hooooooly jesus please dont come for me kdfks 😩😩😩

notes; *hypnagogia is that weird threshold between being awake and being asleep where some people experience hallucinations/lucid dreaming/sleep paralysis. Also i have no excuses for this one LMAOOO SKJHFKJH this is def me indulging but thats what halloween is all about right? 🥴 SINS AND DECADENCE!! So enjoy~ have a good day/night!! stay hydrated and I'll see u tomorrow!! (also I accidentally sandwiched this one in between jun and wonwoo’s indiv fics so we got 96z action 3 days in a row kjfhsdkhf)🎃👻 💕

word count; ~3500

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

ooh, all the girls and boys on the dance floor,

and they lose all their heads to the groove of the record;

drink a little velvet so you get into the beat,

strike a bolt of lighting and become a superfreak!

Club Hypnagogia was a small club.

A hole in the wall space tucked away on the further side of town that people tried to avoid after the sun went down. Most people knew it to be where the seedier characters tended to lurk, but the small niche knew it to be where the more supernatural characters gathered instead.

You take a sip of your drink, eyes already focused on the two males standing across the club. It wasn’t as busy tonight which came as a shock to you considering it was Halloween night, but they’d caught your eye as soon as you’d walked in and you found yourself unable to look away.

One was much taller than the other but both of them had the same sultry smirk painted on their lips and you soon found yourself already drawn to their allure as you abandon your drink and make your way across the club.

You already knew what you were in for when you stopped in front of them.

“My, my, such a pretty ‘lil thing, aren’t you?” The taller one comments.

You take in their appearances; red and black outfits that showed off their bodies and they also made no effort to hide their crimson eyes and black horns either.

“You’re Soonyoung’s plaything, correct me if I’m wrong.” The shorter one teases; lips easing into a knowing smile.

“Soonyoung’s? I thought she was Jun’s?”

Oops.

The two of them share a look, brows raised at you as you bite your lip. “Um…”

“Interesting. I take it you’re a regular around here then?” The taller one asks, stepping closer to you as you immediately feel their energy pour over you in an instant. “I---I guess you can s-say that…” You mumble.

“D’you think either of them would get mad about this, Wonwoo?”

“Dunno. Let’s find out.”

Wonwoo and Jihoon.

That’s what their names were.

They came as a set; nothing more and nothing less.

Unlike Soonyoung and Jun who always came individually, unwilling to share their time with you.

“Look at you, crying while you choke on Jihoon’s cock.” Wonwoo laughs, legs crossed as he sits in a chair across the bed. “Does Soonyoung make you cry prettily too? Or maybe Jun?” Jihoon’s hands tangle in your hair, holding you still as he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around his cock as your own fingertips rub at yourself through your panties that already stick to you like a second skin.

“She’s even touching herself while she chokes on my cock like a good fuckin’ cockslut.”

Wonwoo gets up from his seat, cropped top shifting slightly to show off his toned abs and slim waist as he joins the two of you on the king size bed. Thank god for the private rooms, you’d said.

He sizes up behind you, his hand over Jihoon’s as he holds your head still for the other male. “Bet you’re already thinking about both of our cocks inside of you at the same time, huh?” There’s a pause and a smirk from Wonwoo, “You wanna be a good plaything for us and let us use your holes like a good cock hungry slut but what are you gonna do about that mouth of yours, hmm? Nothing to keep it filled.”

Jihoon catches his drift, a smirk of his own plastered onto his features as he cuts your airways off with his cock. “Should we invite some friends? Y’know, somethin’ to keep your mouth busy?”

You feel a shiver run up your spine, head fuzzy at the lightheadedness and the thought of more hands on your already burning skin.

Jihoon pulls his cock out of your mouth as you sputter and drool. “Well?”

“Y-yes…” You croak, stray tears slipping down your cheeks as Jihoon tilts your head up to meet his stare. “What was that? Say it louder.”

“Yes, I---I want… I want m-more… I wanna choke o-on cock while the--the two of you f-fuck my c-cunt and my ass…” Tears spill down your cheek as the lust pools in you and Jihoon is quick to lean down, tongue already lapping up the salty tears. He smirks, “You’re so pretty when you cry, y’know?”

Wonwoo nods, licking his lips. “Especially when you’re begging about wanting more cocks in your pretty body.”

“Christ, the two of you are somethin’ else.” A voice chips in. You sniffle, turning your head slightly to see Soonyoung and Jun standing by the door.

You whimper their names as they step closer to the large bed, both also adorning the same knowing smirk that Wonwoo and Jihoon had when you’d seen them for the first time.

“I’ll admit, I’m not particularly good with sharing but my, are you a sight for sore eyes. Sandwiched between two incubus and still wanting more. Tsk, and I thought I was enough for you.” Soonyoung smirks, fingertips reaching out to cup your tear-stained cheeks.

Jun joins you on the bed, leaning up against the headboard. “I will say, you’re quite the risk-taker for a human. Wanting to get fucked by all four of us at once. Care to give us a reason why we even should?”

You let out a choked sob, lips chapped. “I--it’s ‘cause… I--” The words die on your tongue, slightly embarrassed.

Wonwoo takes the hint, chuckling under his breath. “Lemme guess, human males don’t do it for you, do they? They don’t know what you want. Or rather, when you tell them, it scares them off. You want to be treated like a plaything, holes stuffed full of cock ‘n cum until your brain is just a pile of mush, right? You like it when we use our abilities to make you feel good, our tentacles when they wrap around your pretty throat or when they fuck your ‘lil ass with our cocks shoved deep inside your cunt filling you to the brim with cum until it’s spilling out of you. You’re an ‘freak’ to normal standards. Tell me if I’ve hit the nail on the head, or if I should keep going.”

Your fingers still tucked between your legs press hard into your clit at his filthy words, shaky eyes unsure of who to look at first.

“Y--yes… You’re r-right...” You whisper quietly.

Soonyoung leans in, lips ghosting against yours.

“Then let’s indulge.”

You were used to Soonyoung and Jun both using their ‘abilities’ for added pleasure; almost addicted to the way they each knew exactly what you wanted and needed.

“Hey, fuck, it’s my turn!” Soonyoung grumbles, trying to bat away Wonwoo’s fingers that were knuckle deep in your pussy. 

This was precisely why he never liked sharing.

You were on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed, lips wrapped around Jun’s cock and one hand wrapped around Jihoon’s as you worked them both. Wonwoo and Soonyoung were both behind you, arguing as Wonwoo thrusted his index and middle finger into your tight cunt.

“Cripes, Soonyoung, give us a break. And anyway, who says we both can’t finger her pussy at the same time.” Soonyoung’s annoyed expression turns into one of agreement; spitting on his fingers before he positions them next to Wonwoo’s. He sinks them in and you moan around Jun’s cock at how full you felt with four of their fingers fucking you open and getting you read to take their cocks.

You squeeze Jihoon a little harder when you feel a tentacle slithering across your torso, wrapping itself around your midsection to keep you upright as another two wrap themselves around your breasts. The sensations are almost too much for you to handle, but you try your best to stave off your orgasm for now.

“Hmm, we have her cunt filled up but what about her cute ‘lil ass, huh? Give her what she wants already.” Jun comments. You clench around Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s fingers, whimpering when you feel them both spit onto the puckered rim.

This time, a smaller tentacle slithers up your leg until you feel it prodding at your ass and Jun pulls you off of his cock, licking his lips at the precum and drool that drips onto the sheets under you. “Let’s hear it, princess. How much do you want it?”

Your grip momentarily loosens around Jihoon when Wonwoo and Soonyoung both curl their fingers right into your g-spot. “Pl-please... I--I want… I want you to---to fuh--fuck me… use, ah, my h-holes like I’m your--your toy…”

Jihoon laughs in amazement, “Shit, you’re fuckin’ cute. I could get used to you.”  

Jun rubs the head of his cock against your lips, smearing the precum on them before you part your lips for him once more.

You start a rhythm again, letting Jun fuck your mouth and running your hand up as down Jihoon’s cock as you fuck yourself on Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s fingers. The tentacle slowly eases past the rim of muscle and you moan around Jun’s cock at the fullness you feel when it starts fucking into you as well.

“Hmm~ Look at our 'lil dumb cumslut. Filled up just like she wanted. Must be so happy, huh?” Soonyoung teases.

The urge to cum is strong and you feel your self control starting to slip quicker and quicker, unable to warn any of them when your body suddenly seizes up in between them all.

“Oh~ She’s cumming~” Wonwoo singsongs; wiggling his fingers inside of you as your walls flutter around his and Soonyoung’s fingers.

In an instant, they all pull away from you, watching as your body slumps to the sheets and your whole body trembles. Your fingertips go numb, head muddled at the intensity of your orgasm that you seem to momentarily black out.

“Fuck, she’s so pretty when she cums~”

Your eyes clamp shut with unshed tears and you can’t even tell who’s speaking anymore, but the tentacle wrapped around your waist slowly starts to lift you back into your previous position as you whine in sensitivity.

“Since it’s our first time with our new plaything, why don’t Jihoon and I have the honours?”

“Just say you wanna fuck her ass, Wonwoo, it’s fine.” Jun retorts.

Wonwoo shrugs in return, a cocky smirk on his lips. “Okay, I wanna fuck her ass and Jihoon wants to fuck her cunt. The two of you have already gotten to play with her so it’s our turn, isn't it?” He turns to Jihoon who nods, head tilted in mock thought. “Seems fair to me, ‘Woo.”

Soonyoung and Jun both narrow their eyes at the other males, lips pursed. “Fine.” They comment in unison.

“See, the two of you are capable of sharing.”

“Shut up, Wonwoo.”

You feel yourself being readjusted as Jihoon slides underneath you; hand wrapped around his cock as he positions it at your entrance.

You take a shaky breath, lowering yourself down onto him as you brace your shaky hands on his chest. “Oh, f-fuck…” It takes a moment for you to adjust to his size, clenching around him in a vice grip. “You’re s-so big…” Whimpering, the other three watch on as your, still, sensitive body sits pretty on Jihoon’s waist.

Their hands itch to get onto you; eyes fixated on the way you start to swivel your hips on Jihoon’s lap. “Shit, she’s so tight and wet around my cock…” Jihoon mumbles, hands on your waist to replace the tentacles that’d disappeared again.

“Fuck, okay, please tell me I can fuck you already too.” Wonwoo groans, hand wrapped around his own cock as he jerks himself off behind you.

“P---please, Wonwoo…”

He pushes you down until you’re chest to chest with Jihoon, exhaling harshly when he sees how stretched out your cunt was around the other male’s cock. “Fuck, baby, d’you even think you can take me?” He teases.

You let out a series of whines, shaking your hips slightly when Wonwoo rubs the head of his cock at the tight ring of muscle. “Yes, p-please, it’s--it’s, hah, not my first t-time, you don’t have--have to, ah, treat me l-like glass...” He lets out a small scoff, slowly easing his cock in.

“Okay, but you fuckin’ said it, princess. Once me and Jihoon start fuckin’ you ‘til you break, you can’t complain, okay?”

You nod your head shakily, groaning at the feeling of them both inside of you when Wonwoo finally bottoms out. “Fuckin’ do i-it then, make it s-so I only k-know your cocks, fuckin’ ruin m-me…” You slur out.

Soonyoung whistles in surprise as Jun’s eyes widen. “Shit, do you think we influenced her too much with our energy?” The latter asks, only slightly concerned. Soonyoung kneels to your side, tilting your head up until your lust filled eyes meet his.

“How’re you feeling, baby? Too much?” He asks, leaning down once to kiss you on the lips before he pulls away. “I--I feel g-good… really r-really good…” You swivel your hips, letting the two other males you wanted them to move. And they quickly take the hint as Wonwoo draws his hips back before he thrusts back into you as Jihoon cants his hips up into you at the same time, making you cry out at the way they filled you at the same time.

“Fuh--fuck, please…” You beg, unsure of what you even wanted now that you were close to satisfied. Soonyoung tilts your head back towards his cock, tapping your cheek with the head of it as he smears his precum against your skin.

“Open.”

Your lips part and you stick your tongue out, letting Soonyoung fuck your open mouth as you gag around him. You feel the tentacle come slithering back, wrapping itself around your midsection again just as Jun’s fingertips wrap around your wrist.

“Figured I should help you a little, hmm? Can’t have you falling over Jihoon now, can we?” Chuckling, he brings your hand towards his cock as you slowly wrap your hand around him. You let Soonyoung tangle a hand in your hair as you get used to the feeling of all four of them in and around you.

“She’s such a good ‘lil plaything. Can’t believe neither of you shared before.” Jihoon jokes; reaching up to pinch one of your nipples as you moan around Soonyoung.

“It’s ‘cause her fuckin’ cunt is too good to share. I was being selfish on purpose.” Soonyoung grits out. Laughing, Jun thrusts into your closed fist, “Hey, I was maybe willing to share. Neither of you bothered to ask.”

“Neither of us knew she was this fuckin’ good, genius.” Wonwoo retorts. He places his hands on your ass, blunt nails digging into your skin as he alternates his thrusts with Jihoon. “But hey, now that we do, I guess she’ll be seeing more of us, huh?”

You clench around him and Jihoon, whimpering around Soonyoung, and gripping Jun just a little tighter at the thought of seeing them again. 

You could get used to that. 

“Guess she likes the idea.” Jihoon mutters. “Although, it seems like Soonyoung’s still a little reluctant.”

A certain warmth pours over you, eyes fluttering shut at the sensations overwhelming your body. Your head feels fuzzy and unfocused; body feeling weightless as they continue to fuck into you. This was definitely more than your usual encounters with Soonyoung or Jun. 

The head of Jihoon’s cock grazes against your g-spot and you whine around Soonyoung; thrusting your hips back as you chase the feeling. You do your best to keep your hand on Jun as well, tightening your fist around him as a high pitched whine spills from his lips.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, only able to focus on the way they all fall into a rhythm that keeps you wanting more.

You needed to cum again.

Wonwoo and Jihoon can feel the way you tighten around them both, doubling their pace as they, too, chase their highs.

Jun’s fingertips circle your wrist, tugging you off of him as he goes to lean against the headboard again. “Hey, Soonyoung, let’s let them have their moment.” He grins, wrapping a hand around his cock as he watches. Soonyoung grunts but nods in agreement, slipping his cock from between your lips as you sputter and catch your breath.

“How’re you feeling, princess?” Soonyoung asks.

“H--huh?” You blink slowly, hazy eyes unable to focus on the male.

“My, my, I think we really did fuck her into our dumb ‘lil cockslut.” Wonwoo laughs, fucking into you faster now that Soonyoung and Jun had eased off. “Isn’t that right? Just a dumb set of holes for us to fuck and play with.”

“Y-yeah…” You whisper; head rolling as Soonyoung rests next to Jun against the headboard. Your body buzzes as you let Wonwoo and Jihoon fuck into you at a harsh pace, losing their rhythm as they feel their impending orgasms.

“I’m gonna cum, f-fuck, cum with us, princess. Let us feel how fuckin’ tight you get for both of us while we fill you up with cum.” Jihoon growls, fingertips reaching down to rub at your clit.

The action proves to be too much as you cum on his command, lips parting in a high pitched cry while you clamp down on both of them. Their hips stutter as they follow suit, cocks snug inside you as they ride out their highs with you. The tentacle wrapped around your waist disappears again in the midst of your orgasm and you feel your body go slack; arms and legs trembling as you do your best to not fall onto Jihoon.

“Hoo~ Isn’t that a sight, Jun? She’s so fucked out of her mind right now, she can barely even hold herself up.” 

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, riding out the remnants of your orgasm as Wonwoo starts to pull out of you.

A garbled moan floats past your lips at the feeling and you can’t help but thrust your hips back as you chase for him to fill you up again.

“Chist, she’s insatiable.” Wonwoo quips, eyes hyper-focused on the cum that drips down from your ass. He wraps a strong arm around your midsection after a moment, helping you up as Jihoon slides out from underneath you.

You sit with your legs folded outwards, cum pooling underneath you onto the sheets. It feels warm and sticky; pin pricks on your skin as you sit in the afterglow of your orgasm.

“Our turn~” Jun singsongs, gesturing to Soonyoung who gets up from his place, quicker than lightning.

They each kneel on either side of you, hands wrapped around their own cocks as they jerk themselves off above you. “Tongue out, princess.” Soonyoung groans.

You sit directly in between them as they cum, both of them covering your face and chest in rivulets of the warm, salty substance. It trickles down your hair, to your cheeks and mingles on the bed of your tongue as you grind down onto the sheets underneath you. Their moans draw you in and make you crave more, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut as a wave of arousal floods your system again.

They all can tell as soon as it happens; eyes flashing a blood red as they, too, gain a new wave of energy from your actions.

Soonyoung and Jun scoot further away as their orgasms ebb off and all four of them pause to admire your body covered in cum.

You draw your tongue back in, swallowing the mix of Soonyoung and Jun’s cum and it’s the latter who leans back in; fingertips swiping at the cum that covers your eyelids. He brings the soaked digits to his lips, licking them clean as you gently open your eyes.

The first thing you see is all four of them in a half circle around you; the same dreamy smile plastered on all of their faces.

Your cheeks burn crimson as the shyness overtakes you with all of their eyes on you at once.

“Um…” You don’t even know what to say next, instead waiting on one of them to take the lead.

Jihoon’s the first one to scoot forward, gentle hands pushing you back down until your back rests against the soiled sheets. He parts your shaky legs, this time leaning over you as he grins.

“Well, we’ve got all night, princess. How about we indulge a little more?”

[navegandoaciegas]

California Bound.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, yandere, homeless!bucky, stalking, home intrusion, obsession, loneliness, sad!bucky, disturbing thoughts, dubcon? This is a dark fic.

Words: 4k

Summary: You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell. Bucky is tired of being alone and invisible and he knows you are too. He knows you can mend each other's’ hearts. 

A/N: set after CA:TWS. I’m not a native speaker so forgive me for any mistakes. Please let me know what you think and like and reblog if you liked it :) feedback is always appreciated!

In the unstable state of his scattered mind he can vividly recall a woman in a red dress. 

Some memories are long gone, some are fragmented, and although the lines of her face have been blurred by the passing of time and decades of electrocution, her plump red lips are permanently burned in the back of his brain.

When he closes his eyes, sometimes, he can still see her smile. 

Only she’s not smiling at him.

She’s smiling at Steve, his brother, his friend, his mission. 

Not even seventy years of brainwashing and torture could get rid of the sadness that filled him when she walked past and ignored him as if he wasn’t there, as if nothing else in that room existed except for Steve.

In his memory she doesn’t see him, and nobody has since. 

Perhaps it’s in that moment that he became no one, in that moment he was condemned to an existence of pain, loneliness and invisibility.

He’s a ghost that haunts the dirty streets of Philadelphia, crouched behind the dumpsters of dark alleys, begging the ones who sneer at him for spare change in train stations, lurking in the shadows to pickpocket the rich passerbys of the city.

  The hormone suppressants HYDRA forced on him are wearing off.

He can feel himself slipping, his most primal instincts violently surging back after 70 years of being repressed. His brain goes haywire when he catches sight of a pair of legs clad in a short skirt, the blood draining from his brain and travelling straight to his cock, and he wills himself to restrain his urges.

Modern women are so pretty, and they wear so little clothes. They don’t see him, of course, but he sees them. 

He sees those tight little dresses, those high heels, those long lashes and bright lips.

In another life he could have been like one of the rich boys he often spots outside of clubs, well dressed and well groomed, and maybe those pretty girls would have fawned over him too.

But not in this life.

In this life he’s been alone for 70 years, and his loneliness consumes him so intensely that some nights, when the cold is unbearable and the streets are empty, he wishes he hadn’t been born at all.

In this life he doesn’t shower and shave for weeks on end, and his hair is so greasy and matted that even if he wasn’t in hiding he’d have to wear a baseball cap anyways. When he looks at himself in the mirror he barely recognizes the handsome soldier in a blue uniform he saw at the Smithsonian. The man who stares back at him in the mirrors of soiled public restrooms has deep frown lines on his forehead, dark circles under dull eyes and a patch of white hair on his beard. Only the startling blue of his eyes has stood the test of time.

Those pretty girls wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

 He’s tired of the loneliness that plagues him. He just wishes to be seen.

He wants someone to look at him, really look at him, in anything other that pity or disgust. He wants someone who could hold him at night and take care of his battered soul.

He wants a companion to spend his time with, someone he could talk to; when was the last time he uttered a single word? When was the last time someone touched him tenderly?

You’d think after all he’s been through that being alone would be a walk in the park in comparison, but the emptiness that eats him alive is the most unbearable torture he’s ever been subjected to. It took HYDRA 20 years to break him, it only took the loneliness a couple of months.

  He just wants someone.

Someone who sees him.

And you do. You see him.

 He’s hunched over in a recess in the wall of an alley, violently shaking. The ground beneath him is frozen, the strong winds are like a slap in the face and the heavy-duty winter jacket he was able to steal isn’t doing much to protect him from the harsh weather. Maybe he won’t survive tonight, he almost dares to hope.

He’s still crying when he spots a pair of crisp white sneakers coming his way, and he looks up. He’s seen you around a couple of times, you’re one of the pretty girls who short circuit his brain.

You’re wearing a bright yellow winter jacket and black jeans. You look young, but he can’t tell how young. People nowadays age different than they used to back then. You’re probably way younger than him, although he has no idea exactly how old he is; he was 27 when he went to war, how much has he aged? How young is too young for a man with no age?

The light of the lamps behind you diffuses a soft halo around your body. You shine on your own light, brighter than the sun; you’re an angel so beautiful, so perfect that he doesn’t know if you’re a figment of his imagination.

You crouch down and hand him a bunch of blankets and a warm cup of something, maybe tea? When he grabs it his fingers brush against yours and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. He expects you to grimace in disgust at his touch, but you don’t. You smile.

You smile at him.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the cold anymore, he only feels the warm tingling in his stomach. 

He smiles back, or at least he tries. He hasn’t smiled since World War II, as Nazis didn’t give him a lot of reasons to, to be honest. 

And just like you appeared, you’re gone in a heartbeat.

But he can’t simply let you go like that, so he resolves to summon back the Asset’s stealth and gets up to follow you.

That night when he closes his eyes the smile he sees belongs to you.

-

   They say even your worst day only lasts 24 hours; too bad your worst day has become your worst year so far.

They also say when you reach rock bottom the only way to go is up. They lied about that too.

Somehow today you’ve been scraping the bottom of the pit you’re in and have dug yourself even deeper than the lowest you could get.

You want to say your day can’t get any worse than this, but you know there’s always room for worsening.

The feeble March sun shines through the clouds and you’re dreading the flight of stairs that awaits you since your landlord categorically refuses to have the lift fixed. By the time you get to your door you’re exhausted and can’t wait to shower the day away and lounge on your couch.

 You open up the door to your apartment and get inside in a rush, only to stop dead in your tracks when you notice something is off about your home. There’s an eerie stillness about the open space, and maybe you’re going crazy but it seems like some of your things are not where you’d left them.

Apparently you just unlocked a lowest level to rock bottom.

It takes you a couple of seconds to register it, but when you do the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your brain screams danger at you.

There’s a smell inside that is not yours. It’s the strong, manly smell of sweat, and it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that you live alone and don’t usually have men over.

 You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does.

You took self defense in college, you carry pepper spray with you, you always thought if you were in danger you’d be able to defend yourself, or at least bolt away.

They never tell you that fear is paralyzing. They don’t tell that the anticipation of pain roots you on the spot, that your legs feel like they’re made of lead and all you can do is wait for the impact to come. They don’t tell you that the dread that chills the blood in your veins can break the most primal of mechanisms humans have, and the fight or flight response you were counting on to save you abandons you too

When it happens, you don’t even hear it coming; there’s a prickle at the base of your neck and, before you descend into the darkness, two arms envelope you, and you feel the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder.

-

  You try to peel your eyes open when a hand delicately caresses your cheek and lingers on your lips. Your eyelids are heavy, your head is pounding like you’re having the worst hangover in you life and your whole body is aching. You want to speak, you want to shake that hand away, but you are unmoving. 

It reminds you of the medicine induced hallucination you used to have, which were an inconvenient side effect of the same prescription drugs that were supposed to help you sleep. It feels like a sleep paralysis, minus the demon sitting on your stomach. 

-

 You’re slipping in and out of consciousness when you hear it. There’s a voice speaking.

You suppose whoever it belongs to is talking to you. You strain your ears and will yourself to concentrate real hard, despite your brain pulsing in your skull and threatening to burst out.

The voice definitely belongs to a man, and whoever he is, he sounds very soft spoken and polite. Too bad he broke into your house and drugged you.

“So pretty, so perfect for me.”

“We won’t ever be lonely anymore, I promise you that.”

“...cleaned up real good for you...”

“...can’t wait for you to wake up.”

It’s all you can make out in your drowsy state. He peppers your forehead and the crown of your head with soft kisses. There’s two strong arms holding you. You fall back asleep.

-

  The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your bedroom and you want to flip the universe off for lining up the morning rays directly onto your face, and yourself for forgetting to draw the blinds.

You almost cuss yourself out for being yet again late for work when the events of the previous evening rush back to you. You wake with a jolt and you feel terror enveloping you when you see him. 

Fear grips your throat and you want to scream, you want to thrash about and punch him, and yet all you can do is look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your chest heaving but it’s almost like it doesn’t belong to you, it’s not happening to you, it can’t; you breathe but the air won’t reach your lungs. 

The man detects your distress and sits next to you. He carefully reaches for your hand and places on his chest, over his heart.

You are immobile.

You hate yourself for it. You wish you could do something about this but your stupid brain refuses to cooperate.

“Calm down baby, I’m not here to hurt you.” says the guy who gave you morphine. “Concentrate on my breathing, ‘kay? Inhale, hold your breath- good, now exhale, and again.”

He guides you through a breathing exercise that suggests you it may not be the first time he’s had to calm himself or others from an almost panic attack. The steady beat of his heart calms you down.

“Don’t cry, please.” he pleads with you.

You’re back at it again with the inappropriate thoughts for someone who’s been kidnapped and might get killed in the next few minutes, but you can’t not think how handsome your captor is.

He’s got dark hair gathered up in an elastic at the nape of his neck. His jawline is sharp and his cheekbones high. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, his lips look soft and pink and his nose is small and cute for a man so chiselled and intimidating.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” he tells you, and smiles almost shyly at you.

There’s a look on his face that should reassure you, because it means that you won’t die today, but it can only mean you’re doomed to something maybe worse than death. 

His expression is tender, like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He seems so affectionate, so loving, that for a moment you wish this was real, you wish your former partners would have looked at you so devotedly.

He takes your hand in his again and traces soothing pattern with his thumb. 

Finally you seem to snap back to reality.

“Who are you?” You manage to squeak out. Your throat is on fire, and you’re grateful for the water bottle he hands over to you.

He frowns and seems to think about it until he manages to mumble a “My name is Bucky.”

He hesitates over his name like it doesn’t really belong to him.

You’re puzzled as to why you’re so calm. You’ve never been a feisty one, that’s true; you spent your life conforming to rules, you always complied to orders because you like to be praised and you hate to disappoint. As a child you feared punishments, being grounded, the look of dissatisfaction on your parents’ faces more than anything else in the world.

But you never imagined you’d be striking a conversation with the intruder in your house like it was an everyday occurrence. 

It only takes a look to understand that you can’t outrun the guy, nor overpower him. He’s built like a bulldozer and his biceps are bigger than you. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and as absurd as it sounds you believe him, but it doesn’t mean you’d come out unscathered if you tried to fight him.

Maybe you could outsmart him? Comply until he trusts you and then take off?

“I’ve been watching you.”  Oh shit . “You saved my life.”

You can’t stop the remark from escaping your lips. “A thank you would have sufficed, you know, no need to kidnap me and all.” 

You weren’t feisty, sure, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a snarky bitch.

The guy chuckles, and it seems like his own amusement surprises you both alike.

“Two months ago, back in January. I was freezing to death. You came and gave me blankets and tea. It warmed me enough to survive the night. I knew back then you were perfect.”

Oh, God . The one time you decided to be a good citizen and gave the blankets you hogged in your cubicle at work to the homeless guy that was always crouched in the back alley of your office building, then one you’d see when you sneaked out the back to smoke on company time.

You almost don’t recognize him. 

“You’re just like me in a way. I saw you so sad all this time, you hate your job, you’re always alone. I saw you cry because you feel so lonely. I know that it feels like. I’ve been alone for so long.” He whispers the last part softly, and your heart clenches because it’s true, you’re so damn lonely, but you can recognize the loneliness in his eyes too. He cradles your face in his hands. “But I promise you won’t be alone anymore. You got me now.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t even know you. Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please don’t hurt me.” You start to plead with him and your words get swallowed by the sobs that shake you. Your heartbeat picks up again. 

You know fear now, the real one, but it pales in comparison of the one you feel when the implication of his words starts to sink in.

He just smiles at you. 

“What do you want?” you manage to whisper.

“You. We’re going to be happy I promise. I read the notes on your phone where you wrote you wanted to travel, remember that?” You nod weakly, recalling the depressive entry about how stuck your boring life is and the bucket list of all the places you’d want to visit.

“We’re going to travel, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just don’t leave me please, be with me.”

You almost ask with what money since you’re homeless my guy, but then a thought strikes you.

You won’t miss your boring life the moment it will slip away from you; you won’t miss being stuck alone in a city you despise doing a job you hate. You won’t miss the homesickness. You won’t miss berating yourself for accepting a job immediately post grad in a city on the other side of America, just because you were scared of being left behind, of being that one person who ends up with no job after college and has to move back to their parents house.

Maybe, had you stayed in your hometown, or accepted that other position in Austin, maybe this shit wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ll never know.

He pulls you into a hug and you’re so startled your crying subsizes. 

He shushes you and coos you while rocking you in his arms. “It’s okay baby, I promise you’re going to like it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, I got it all sorted out for you.”

You’re shocked.

He pushes you down on the bed and as your mind elaborates the worst case scenario possible and as you’re on the verge of another panic attack, he simply envelops you in his arms and puts his head on your chest. 

You’re stunned again.

Almost on instinct you wrap your own smaller arms around his shoulders and he sighs contentedly. You’re so touch starved and desperate for affection that even hugging your stalkers feels kinda nice.

You haven’t touched anyone and no one has touched you in such fondness in almost a year. Hook-ups don’t count. 

You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell.

 Lost in thought you only notice he’s about to kiss you when it’s too late.

At first he hesitantly pecks your lips, and then he’s trying to pry your mouth open with his tongue. You don’t know what possesses you to do it but you part your lips.

He’s uncertain on how to move around, like he doesn’t know how to kiss or he’s forgetten how, he has absolutely no idea where to put his hands, and it’s honestly kind of awkward.

You imagine this is what it’s like to kiss a middle schooler.

He pulls away and blushes. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

You’re stunned yet again.

He’s not apologizing for stalking you, breaking in and drugging you, but because he’s a bad kisser?

He slants his mouth against yours again, this time more forcefully than before. And after almost choking you when he pushes his tongue so deep it would have reached your tonsils hadn’t you had them removed, he seems to get the gist of it, or maybe the muscle memory kicks back in, because even if you won’t admit it to yourself, it feels nice.

You feel sick and twisted but it’s good to have someone desire you, touch you so tenderly, kiss you so passionately. The guys you use to entertain yourself in your solitude never kiss you while they fuck you into oblivion. You forgot how comforting the weight of a warm body on yours is.

You don’t push him away until you feel your t-shirt rip.

His hands explore your body ignoring your pleads to stop.

He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. One hand squeezes your ass and the other kneads your breasts while he leaves open mouthed, hungry kisses down your throat, until he reaches the soft skin between your neck and clavicles and starts sucking in like a man possessed. You automatically jerk forward and buckle your hips until they touch his and he lets out a groan that travels straight to your already dripping core. 

You hate yourself for it, but you’ve never been this aroused.

You hate yourself for giving in so effortlessly, for being so damn weak, so damn lonely.

It’s mortifying how easy you’re making this for him. 

Your mind tries to will your body to push him from you, but instead of shoving him away your hands grab his shoulder and pull him closer.

You hate yourself because when he dips his hand in your soaked panties as he suckles on your nipple, your body doesn’t even try to protect you. 

You’re at his mercy as he pushes his long fingers through your folds and smears your arousal around, before dipping them inside.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” 

Cocky bastard.

He moans in your mouth as he grinds his hips on your leg and you feel the extent of his manhood. 

“So pretty, so perfect, so good for me.”

It shouldn’t feel this good, but again you’ve been a slut for praise since you came out the womb. You moan and whine in pleasure and he’s clearly very proud of himself for being the one who elicits these sounds from you. His thumb finds your bud and massages it, sending jolts of unadulterated pleasure down your spine.

You’re trembling under his touch. Your legs are shaking, toes curling, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder what you ever have. You can feel the familiar tightness in your core that precedes an orgasm, but you need more.

“Please Bucky, please. Faster.” you whine, ashamed of yourself for pleading like that. 

You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t notice the look of hunger that crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of his name. He never thought he’d be able to give you so much, he never knew his hand could bring anything other than pain and destruction, but his name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my fingers for me, I know you can.”

And you do. You cum so hard your vision goes black for a second as you lose yourself to the pleasure that travels from your core to the rest of your body.

You’re floating, so dazed that you barely notice he’s undressed you and taken off his pants. When you feel something prod at your entrance, you look down in horror only to find him already lined up with you.

He’s got the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and it’s so big, so thick you’re scared he’s going to rip you apart. He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s slamming inside of you.

The scream that rips out of you is animalistic, and he stills.

“God you’re so tight, clamping down on me.” He grunts in you ear as he sets a slow pace.

The pain soon subsides and gives place to more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your life. He picks up the pace when you stretch around his girth painlessly, and rolls his hips around.

“So good for me.”

“Mine, only mine.”

“My good girl.”

“Taking me so well.”

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your pussy clamps down on his cock with each praise he grunts in your ear. You’re so overstimulated and he’s so vocal that you feel like you’re about to burst when you cum again and again for what feels like an eternity, before his movements become sloppier and messier.

You cum once more when he swells inside of you, and you feel the tell-tale sensation of fullness when he fills you up with his cum.

He collapses on you, panting. 

You’re both satisfied and spent.

He kisses you once more, on your lips, and it’s so sweet and tender that you almost cry because you know deep down you couldn’t take one more day of solitude.

His voice is deep and hoarse when he speaks again.

“How ‘bout we start with California?”

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 9: Intruloceit (Pt 1)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 9: When you write something on your own skin, it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well.

Content warnings: implied abuse (nothing graphic), self deprecation, some internalized homophobia concerning polyamory, angst. 

(Happy ending in next part)

Word count: 1.7k

Janus didn’t sleep the night before his eighteenth birthday. Instead, he sat curled up on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, watching the minutes pass in the dim light of his alarm clock. His heart pounded as it drew closer to midnight, feeling like the numbers on the display were a countdown to his death.

He didn’t have friends, and that wasn’t a topic he would ever admit to being sensitive about. Most people would spend the eve of their eighteenth birthday surrounded by their loved ones, count down the seconds until they reached the strike of midnight, and then huddle around the birthday person as they wrote a message to their soulmate for the first time. A little greeting, an introduction, something to begin the process of meeting the love of their life. In a decent amount of cases, probably half, Janus would speculate, they wouldn’t get a response until their soulmate also turned eighteen, but the first note was still a special moment; something to celebrate. He’d never been a popular person though, by any standards.  Even back in elementary school, his general dark demeanor and habitual lying kept people away from him. Sure, it would be more fun to play at recess with the other kids instead of laying in the sun and watching the clouds float by, but his defense mechanisms were not something he was going to let go of any time soon.

When his bedside display finally read 12:00, he expected to feel something. A shiver up his spine, a tingling under his skin, anything. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t tell if he was more grateful or upset. He stared down at his skin, pen held in his shaking hands, debating if he should do it. The minutes ticked by, suddenly a lot slower than when he’d been fighting for breath in anticipation and fear, and the pen continued to shake.

Downstairs, the front door slammed shut, causing Janus to flinch so hard the pen clattered to the floor. His dad wasn’t supposed to be home for a couple more days, and he could hear his mom voicing similar confusion as she made her way downstairs to greet him.

“Darrel? Did the trip end early?” He could hear the hesitation and uncertainty in her voice even from behind his closed door. His father had left with the excuse of a work trip. They both knew that wasn’t true, and both had an unspoken agreement to not say a word about it.

“What are you doing awake?” The man’s voice was gruff, sleep starved, annoyed. He clearly hadn’t intended to run into his wife, the soulmate he had stopped loving years ago.

“The headlights shone through the window, they woke me up.”

“Well, go back to bed. I don’t want to be grilled by you right now.”

“Do you want some dinner? I think there’s some leftovers in the fridge-”

“I said, go back to bed!”

“Darrel, please! You’re going to wake Janus!”

Janus shut his eyes and ears as the yelling started, abandoning the pen and what little excitement he’d had previously. Like every night, his sleep was as restless and chaotic as the day time, haunted with flashbacks and nightmares that he had no way to escape. Words hit with as much impact as fists, reminding him of how he was meant to be alone. A soulmate could never love a royal fuck up like him. His dad’s words echoed and distorted as the blows landed, shouts of unlovable and worthless setting in his mind as tombstones. Images of his parent’s failed bond rifled through his mind’s eye at record pace. Whether they were a one in a million flaw or just a cruel reminder that soulmates are never as perfect as displayed, he’d never know. All he knew is that he’d rather be alone for the rest of his life than be submitted to the fate that had befallen them, abuse and hatred but unable to leave, not with the expectations and stereotypes they lived under. ‘Soulmates were perfect, never failing, an unshatterable bond.’ Bullshit. He knew he was also subjecting his soulmate to a life alone, but his fear easily outweighed his desire to be loved, or his sense of compassion. 

He woke up the next morning with a new heaviness in his heart, glancing at the time habitually. It was ten minutes before his alarm, but the thought of going back to sleep was too daunting a quest, so he rolled off his bed and padded to the bathroom to get ready for school. It was his senior year, and no matter how much he would rather stay at home and mope in his room, zoning out as he tended to do, he needed his grades to stay decent. It was the only way he was getting out of here. Half asleep, he threw on his yellow comfort hoodie, a stark contrast to his mood. It had been a present from his mom a few years ago, given with the uncomfortable smile between two people who lived together but rarely spoke. 

He clambered down the stairs two at a time, freezing on the last step as his eye locked on the person in the kitchen. His mom sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee silently, barely acknowledging he had entered the room. Without so much as a word, he scooted by her, eyeing the bruise forming on her left cheek and slunk out the door. They didn’t talk much anymore, why would today being his birthday change that?

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, and Janus didn’t know why that made a certain hole open up in his chest. Boring classes followed by lonely breaks, a quiet lunch hour in an abandoned classroom and an uneventful walk to the park after school. He preferred doing his homework anywhere that wasn’t home, especially now that his dad was back in town. He needed to get these done, and who knew what would pull him away from his work there. Besides, the grass was soft and the sun wasn’t too overbearingly hot, and he desperately needed a tan. The darker his skin, the more unnoticeable was the huge birthmark that covered the left side of his face, a little something that just made him that much more avoided by his peers.

His pen had barely scratched the paper when a tickle over his right arm made him gasp, like a feather ghosting over the skin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was, and after a moment of adrenaline and panic, it occurred to him that no amount of putting it off would prevent the inevitable. He’d have to acknowledge his soulmate’s existence eventually. With a deep breath, he tugged the sleeve of his hoodie up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

From wrist to elbow on his forearm, a deep blue ink had scribbled down bullet points that he must have not noticed throughout the entire day, since there were too many for them to have happened in the last few minutes. He started at the top, eyes drifting hungrily over the writing until he reached the last note, still being finished.

Chemistry test next Friday, study cephalopods

English paper on William Shakespeare, ask Roman for advice

Talk to Patton about moving movie night to next weekend

What far away is Andromeda from earth?

Fix V’s pin 

Yell at V to stop breaking their pins

Get dad to sign detention slip

Extra credit for calculus due tomorrow

Do you want to get coffee?

Janus froze. That last one… what the hell? Sure, his brain was decently sleep deprived, but he was almost certain he hadn’t written to his soulmate last night. Except, damn, that question certainly didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of his notes; it seemed aimed at someone. Nevermind how they knew he was there, knew he had turned eighteen, they were trying to contact him, and that was more important. He picked up his discarded pen off the grass, twirling it in his fingers. What should he say? Should he even say anything? His original plan to ignore his soulmate was suddenly significantly more difficult, now that they were making the first move. They were a real person, not just a stranger, no longer a figment of his imagination twisted into something evil. 

But before he could touch the tip to his arm to respond, to maybe introduce himself or ask where they were in the world (why were they offering coffee if they’d never even established where they lived, he wondered distantly), a barrage of green script exploded under his poised pen.

YES PLEASE! I was awake all night. I just saw your notes, you want help with the cephalopods? I can quiz you, I know everything about them. And I guarantee I know just as much about ya boi Billy Shakes as Roman, and I know the FUN stuff too! Not the prissy romancey stuff. Did V tell you their pin broke because they tried to stab me with it and hit my pocket knife? Because they did. What did you get detention for this time?

Even with the small writing, Janus had to rotate his arm to follow the messy scratching as the… new person continued to rant about their day. He sat in shock, not able to process what was happening. This had to be a mistake, right? It was astronomically rare to have more than one soulmate, and there was no way he was one of those people. He had never been special before in his life, in either a good way or a bad, so he in no way was deserving of… this. Maybe this was a mistake after all, just like his parents. Another cosmic fuck up, where he’d have to live out the rest of his life, watching the two people fall more and more in love while he looked on like a creep. Isn’t that what he deserved, though? The two other people obviously knew each other; two soulmates who must have turned eighteen before him and met a while ago, if their casual interaction was anything to go by. And… he couldn’t intrude on that. Even if he did, if he popped up out of nowhere like a bad cold, they wouldn’t want him to join their pre-established relationship already. They probably weren’t even polyamorous, and the whole idea would just make them uncomfortable. 

His mind was too far gone for homework. So with a lump in his throat the size of a meteor and tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he capped the pen, rolled down his sleeve resolutely, and packed up his supplies. Anything his dad would do to him would surely hurt less than this. 

[rafecameron]

Hospital For Souls

Summary: Rafe decides that instead of the usual halloween parties the kooks would attend this year the perfect way to celebrate the spooky evening would be to explore the abandoned building he found the week before. This is for @bricksatanakinswindow​ spooky writing challenge!

Pairing: Kooks x Reader (a lil Topper x Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: Okay so I’ve never written anything scary before so this probably sucks ass and isn’t even scary. But that being said I have tagged people who have asked to be tagged in my work but if you don’t want to read anything horror related please don’t feel the need to, I won't be offended! Also the first half is proof read and the rest isn’t bc lazy.

*GIF is mine*

“Rafe where are we going?” You ask with an exasperated sigh, every time you asked your best friend for any kind of hint to where you were going he’d simply tell you you’re almost there.

“Yeah man we’ve been walking for ages.” Topper complains from beside you.

“Look, we’re almost there okay?” Rafe turns to shoot you all a glare, “Just stop asking!”

You let out a groan but shut up as you follow after him, sharing an annoyed look with the two boys beside you. Rafe had driven you all out to the cut as soon as it started to get dark, parked up in the middle of nowhere, and insisted you all follow him into the trees. If you didn’t know him any better you’d think he was going to murder the three of you and bury you out here. But the backpack slung over his shoulder wasn’t big enough to hold a shovel so you were sure you would be okay.

Deep inside the tree’s you finally come to a stop outside a building. From the front it looks no bigger than your house, but you can see that it goes a lot further back. The windows are boarded up, graffiti littering the exterior of the building.

“What the hell is this place?” Kelce asks as Rafe heads up the crumbling stone steps.

Rafe simply shrugs, “No idea.”

“Great explanation.” You roll your eyes waiting at the bottom of the steps with Topper, “How did you find it?”

“Yeah, what the hell were you doing out here?” Topper questions.

“I found it after getting into an argument with my dad. Drove out here, got out the car to smoke and just found it.” He says, like walking through the woods in the cut alone to smoke was a totally normal thing to do.

He pulls out what look like bolt cutters from his bag and starts attacking the chains on the doors, you raise a trimmed brow and turn to give Topper a ‘what the hell??’ look.

“Uh, Rafe? What are you doing?” You ask.

“Trying to get inside.” He says through gritted teeth as he squeezes the chain between the blades.

Kelce stands with his arms crossed, back leaning against the wall watching his friend fight with the metal, “Why would we want to go inside?” He asks.

“To look around?” Rafe poses it as a question, letting out a whoop when the chain finally breaks in two, “Unless you’re scared?” He turns to you with a challenging grin.

“Scared? No.” You shake your head, “Doesn’t mean I want to go in there. We’ll probably fall through the floor or something.”

“Yeah I’m with y/n on this one, doesn’t exactly look like it’s had a safety check in a good couple of years.” Topper tilts his head to look up at his friends on the steps.

“Fine, stay here then, if you’re scared.” Rafe taunts before disappearing inside, Kelce hot on his heels with a laugh.

“Seriously?” You groan. You share a look with the boy beside you before letting out a sigh and starting up the steps.

The inside was pitch black, you could barely see a hand in front of your face let alone where you were walking.

“Guys?” Topper calls out, you feel his hand brush against your arm as he tries to feel his way around.

You’re suddenly blinded by a bright light, causing you to stumble back into something hard, “What the hell?” You shout covering your eyes as Rafe laughs from behind the light.

“Figured we’d need these.” He says chucking the torch at you, you fumbled to catch it, rubbing your lower back which had hit the cabinet behind you.

“You’re an asshole.” You grumble.

You shine the light down at the floor in front of you, it’s covered in years worth of dust, clouds of it floating up into the air as your friends distrubed it. You point the torch around the room, looking at the array of abandoned furniture, none of it giving off any indication as to what this building used to be.

“I’m so glad this is where we’re spending our Saturday night.” Topper comments, tapping his torch against his palm to get it working.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Rafe asks, his voice far away as he heads deeper into the building.

“Since when were you the adventurous type?” You call after him.

The rooms smelt musty and old, the building itself seemed older than any other on the island you had seen. The doors were thick and wooden, the cement of the walls starting to crack and crumble due to years of neglect. You couldn’t help but turn your nose up at the entire evening. You would have much rather spent the night at a party getting stupidly drunk, like you were sure every other teen on the island was.

“Where did they even go?” You mutter mostly to yourself, Rafe and Kelce had disappeared down the dark hallway and you could no longer see the light from their flashlights.

“Do you want to wait outside?” Topper asks, sounding half bored and half scared.

You considered it, already sick of breathing in the polluted air but ultimately you shook your head, “It’s dark, one of them could fall and hurt themselves.”

Topper nods and follows you through the cluttered hallway. You shine your light into each room, illuminating its contents but not seeing your friends anywhere.

“I think this was a school or something.” Topper comments, his light landing on chairs and desks spread around one of the rooms, a blackboard propped against the wall still had squiggles of chalk on it.

“Maybe.” You murmur.

You weren’t sure if this really was a school or if people had used this place as a dumping ground for old furniture before finally abandoning it. Either way, you didn’t care. You just wanted to find your friends and get out of there. You were admittedly starting to get a little creeped out. You’d never been in a place so deathly quiet before. It was almost as if even your breathing and footsteps had been muted. In a place where you expected to hear echoes you were met with nothing but silence. It was eerie.

“Guys?” You call out, “C’mon we’re gonna get lost in here!”

You shoot a worried glance to Topper at the lack of reply from your friends, already concerned something had happened to one of them.

“They’re trying to fuck with us.” Topper grumbles and although you agree it’s likely, you had known Rafe your whole life after all, you were still worried about one of them falling and breaking their neck in the dark.

It wasn’t until you had been searching for at least another five minutes that you hear Rafe’s voice calling you from a distance.

“Get over here!” He calls, a light appearing down the bottom of the hallway.

You huff out and hurry towards the light, Topper close on your heels. As you get closer the light disappears inside a room and as you round the doorway you find Rafe and Kelce standing in front of a table, lights pointed down at the surface.

“What?” You snap, annoyed that no in fact one of them had not been dying, they had just been ignoring your calls.

“Check this out.” Kelce waves his light across the table for emphasis and you peek over his shoulder.

“What the fuck is that?” You frown.

“A spirit board.” Rafe answers, “Are you stupid?”

You punch him on the shoulder, “Hard to see under all the grime.” You huff, “Really, it’s fascinating, can we go now?”

“You don’t wanna try it out?” Rafe asks and even Kelce snaps his head up at that.

“No, I definitely don’t want to try it out. Can we just go? It’s freezing in here.” You cross your arms over your chest, rubbing your hands against your cold arms.

“Don’t be wimps, c’mon.” Rafe picks up the board, blowing the dust off before placing it back down.

“Rafe, we’re not playing that stupid thing.” Topper tells him.

“Don’t be a pussy Top.” Rafe picks up the plachette from the floor and places it in the middle of the board.

“I’d rather be a pussy than possessed.” Topper holds his hands up with a nervous laugh, “I’m not touching that thing.”

“You really believe that crap?” Kelce asks, switching his torch to his left hand as he reached out for the wooden item.

“Believe it or not, I’m not risking it.” Topper shrugs.

“I’m with Top, I’m not touching that thing. Besides, it’s filthy.” You wrinkle your nose as your friends place their fingers on it.

“Ask it something.” Rafe instructs Kelce.

“What the fuck am I supposed to ask?” Kelce frowns up at him.

“I don’t know man. Whatever they ask in those horror movies.” Rafe shrugs, looking down at the plachette expectantly as he waits for Kelce to speak.

“Uh, alright.” Kelce rolls his shoulders and clears his throat, “Uh, is there anybody here?”

All four sets of eyes sit on the plachette, waiting to see if it does anything. A few moments pass and Rafe nudges Kelce with his elbow.

“Ask something else.” He says.

“Like what? I’m guessing the answer to that one was ‘no’” Kelce rolls his eyes.

“I guess there’s no one here then, lets go.” You grab Toppers elbow as you make to turn around.

“Hold up,” Rafe twists his head to look over his shoulder, “Let’s just try again. Ask again.”

“Why can’t you ask? I don’t want no ghosts following me home.” Rafe shoots Kelce a glare and the boy lets out a sigh, “Alright, fine. Is there anybody here?” He asks again.

You glance around the room while the boys play with their board, the table, board and two metal chairs are the only pieces of furniture in the room. The set up seems strange, like someone used this room for the sole purpose of communicating with the board.

“It just fucking moved!” Rafe calls out causing you to snap your eyes back to the board.

“It’s still in the same place.” You comment.

“No it definitely just moved!” Rafe argues, eyes glued to the wooden shape.

“Rafe, can we just-” You cut yourself off as you watch the object slide across the board slowly, the movements jittery as it makes it’s way to stop on the ‘YES’ at the top of the board. “Okay, which one of you moved that?”

“I didn’t do it.” Kelce holds his hands up, “I swear.” He looks over at Rafe with a raised brow.

“Well I didn’t do it, put your hand back on it.” Rafe tells him, his eyes flashing with excitement as he looks back to the table.

The plachette starts moving again, slowly and uncertainly it makes its way across the board. It moves to the left and down, coming to a stop over the letter ‘O’ for a few seconds before moving again. To the right this time it stops on the letter ‘U’ before shuffling the tiniest but to the left to stop on ‘T’.

“Out?” Topper asks, worry knitting his brows together.

You just let out a laugh and roll your eyes, “Very funny, ha ha, you got us. Let’s go.” You clap your hands together in mock applause.

“We didn’t fucking move it!” Rafe protests, “We didn’t even ask it anything!”

“Well I don’t believe you! I know you’re trying to fuck with us Rafe, it isn’t going to work!” You place your hands on your hips, glaring at the boy looking over his shoulder at you.

He quickly drops his fingers from the board, holding them next to his shoulders, “I didn’t fucking move it.” He says adamantly.

Kelce copies his movements, removing his hands as he stared down at the bored, “You had to have moved it, because I didn’t.”

“Of course he moved it.” You sigh.

But a squeal is quick to leave your lips as the plachette flies off of the board unaided and hits the wall to the left, both boys in front of the board suddenly jump backwards.

“Fuck this!” Topper spins on his heel and hurries out of the room, you not far behind him.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.” You mutter to yourself as you run after Topper, the sound of footsteps behind you telling you your two other friends weren’t far behind.

“Did you fucking see that?” Rafe calls, excitement evident in his tone.

“Yes we fucking saw it why do you think we’re running?” Topper calls back out of breath.

Your flashlights danced across the ground as you all sprinted through the hallways, you weren’t entirely sure Topper was leading you the right way but right now you didn’t care. As long as you were far away from that room you were okay.

You only came to a halt when you were all out of breath, your hands rest against your knees as you suck deep gulps of air into your lungs.

“What the fuck was that?” You pant out.

Part of you wanted to accuse Rafe of trying to scare you all but you knew he’d never be able to pull off something like that, he wouldn’t have the patience to set it up. You could feel your body shaking with adrenaline after your unexpected run, your heart was beating out of your chest.

Topper was leaning against the wall, head tilted back to meet the cold wall as he watched his two friends by the window.

“Did we run the right way?” Kelce asks as he peers through the window, “I can’t see anything out there.”

“I wasn’t really concentrating where I was going, I just wanted to get away from whatever that thing was.” Topper points a shaky finger in the direction they had just come from.

As he did a bang emitted from down the hallway, you couldn’t see what it was but it sounded like something had fallen over.

“Well either that thing is following us or there’s two of the fuckers,” Kelce shakes his head, “I gotta get out of here. Black people always die first in horror movies and I ain’t about to be murdered by some dead motherfucker.”

Kelce starts to head off down the hallway, and although you hadn’t been taking much notice of your surroundings you were sure you didn’t recognise this hallway.

“Kelce I think that’s the wrong way.” You call out to him but his figure keeps getting smaller.

“You wanna go back that way then be my guest!” He calls without turning around.

“He kind of has a point.” Topper shrugs and motions for you to go in front of him.

“I can’t believe you’re all freaking out,” Rafe shakes his head as he follows behind Topper, “It’s fucking exciting!”

“It is not exciting!” You snap out.

“Are you scared y/n?” He teases.

“Yes I am fucking scared! There’s like, a fucking poltergeist or something in here throwing shit around!” You shiver at the thought, “I’ve seen way too many horror movies to know how this stuff ends.”

You try your best to keep up with the boy in front of you but he’s practically running at this point and you weren’t sure you had enough energy left after your other sprint.

“Kelce slow down!” You call out to him, “We need to figure out where we’re going.”

“Well it’s gotta be this way, it’s not back that way is it?” He calls back, continuing at his fast pace.

“I’ll go get him.” Rafe says with a roll of his eyes.

He pushes past you and Topper and hurried into the darkness to pull his friend back. You stop walking, turning to Topper with an anxious look.

“I don’t think this is the right way. We could have easily gotten turned around when we were running.” You sigh and run your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Topper says though you can tell by the look on his face he’s feeling a million things and fine isn’t one of them, “we’ll find the way out.”

He places his hands on your hips, mostly to comfort himself with some physical touch rather than to calm you down. He rubs circles into your hips and you nod your head quickly.

“Yeah, I know. Why did someone think it was a good idea to board up the windows.” You groan out.

Topper lets out a chuckle, “To stop idiots like us from getting in?” He suggests.

You laugh softly before resting your forehead against his chest. His heart was beating rapidly and you were sure yours was no different. You stood like that for a couple of minutes before you finally pulled yourself away from his grip.

“Where are they?” You ask chewing on your lower lip, “Don’t tell me they’ve run off again.”

“C’mon, let’s go find them.” Topper holds his hand out to you and you gladly take it.

He leads the way down the hallway, searching desperately for any sign of light from the other twos torches.

“I can’t believe them.” You mutter to yourself.

You jump into Toppers side as you hear a bang from one of the rooms beside you. You don’t dare check inside to see if it’s your friends and instead hurry your feet along the floor to the end of the hallway.

“I don’t like this.” You whisper out to your friend.

“Me neither.” Topper replies, “But I’ll look after you.” He reassures you with a squeeze of the hand.

You offer him a small smile, allowing him to pull you down the left corridor. You couldn’t believe Rafe and Kelce had disappeared again.

“If we find the way out we’re leaving without them.” You glare ahead of you.

Topper laughs lightly, “You wouldn't do that,” he replies before whipping his head round, “did you hear that? Rafe?”

You squeeze onto his hand as you hear shuffling behind you like someone was walking without picking their feet up properly. You wait a few seconds but get no reply.

“I don’t think that’s Rafe.” You tug on his hand as you start to walk backwards.

Topper spins around pulling you into the nearest room and shutting the door behind you both. He leans his back against it in case anything tries to get through while you pace in front of him, fingers pulling at the roots of your hair.

“This can’t be real.” You mumble.

You pull out your phone to try and call your friends but you had no signal, big surprise. You push it into your pocket in frustration and let out a groan. The room Topper had pulled you into had no furniture at all, the only thing breaking up the dull walls was a door in the far corner. You slowly make your way over to it, a shaky hand reaching for the handle as you try to gather the courage to pull it open. You decide to do it like a plaster, you grab the handle and rip the door back, letting out the breath you had been holding when nothing jumped out at you.

“It’s another corridor Top,” you call looking over your shoulder.

Topper runs across the room, pushing you into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind you, “Okay, good. Now we’re really lost.”

“There’s got to be an exit around here somewhere. A fire exit or something.” You take hold of his hand again, urging him to take the lead and start walking.

The corridor seemed to go on forever. Thick doors lined the walls either side of you, each one pushed wide open but you didn’t dare turn your head and look into any of the rooms. You didn’t want to see anything that would give you worse nightmares than you knew you’d already be having.

As opposed to when you first entered the building nowhere was silent now. You were fully aware of every sound surrounding you. Every little creak of the floor, every bang from a random room and every footstep that sounded above you. You tried to convince yourself they were being made by your friends but you figured even they wouldn’t be stupid enough to go upstairs to find an exit.

“Topper, I’m getting really scared now,” You admit as the door behind you sways as though in a breeze coming from nowhere, “I just want to be at home. I don’t want to be here and I don’t want to walk back through the woods.”

Topper squeezes your hand, looking back at you over his shoulder, he tried his best to put on a brave face, “We will be home soon, y/n.” He reassures you.

You find yourself becoming more and more distressed as every corridor you turn down looks exactly like the previous one. None of them showed signs of harbouring exits and you were sure you would be in here forever. The bangs from behind you were getting louder and the footsteps from above never stopped, like whatever it was was following your exact path. Topper’s torch had once again stopped working and you gladly passed yours over to him, your free hand now also gripping onto Toppers as well.

In horror movies everyone always has such a will to survive. They run and they fight and you imagined that’s what it would be like in real life. But all you wanted to do was curl into a ball on the floor and not move again. You had no fight in you. No will to run up and down the hallways screaming and begging for help. You just wanted to sit and cry and hope that by the time morning came you could find your way out. But Topper wouldn’t let you and you wouldn’t expect him to wait around for you while you sat and had a breakdown.

“Hey, what’s that?” Topper comments, his light dancing across a door which looked suspiciously like the fire exit doors at your school. You allow him to drag you over to it at a jogging pace and you almost cried when he pushed it open and fresh air blew onto your face. You both tumbled out the door, the steps beneath you almost completely disintegrated. Out into the trees you want to fall to your knees and cry happy tears but you can’t.

“Which way do you think?” Topper asks shining his torch to the left and the right. You were at a random part of the building, the trees much closer to the exterior now and you had no clue which was to go.

“Well, if we follow the building we have to make it back to the entrance eventually, right?” You suggest biting your lower lip lightly.

Topper nods in agreement and heads off to the left. You ignore the sound of the boards banging against the windows, it was just the wind, the wind that was nonexistent.

The building seemed to go on forever and you thought you were lucky to have not been lost in there for much longer than you were.

“What if they’re not out yet?” You ask.

“We’ll wait for them.” Topper replies.

“And what if they’re not out by morning?” You question again.

“I don’t know, y/n,” Topper sighs, “Do you want to go in and find them?”

You quickly shake your head. You would rather sit outside all day and wait for them than go back inside and risk getting lost again. Luckily this one thing had gone right for you tonight and you had walked in the right direction, the entrance soon coming into sight. The second lucky thing was that Rafe and Kelce were sat on the wall along the stairs, legs swinging.

“I see you guys were looking for us.” Topper calls out causing the boys heads to snap up.

“I see you were too.” Rafe calls back.

As you get closer to the boys you let go of Toppers hand and hurry over to them, “You’re not possessed, right?” You ask, tiptoeing up to look them both in the eyes with a glare.

Once you were certain neither were possessed you turned to Rafe and pushed him in the chest causing him to topple backwards off the wall, “Asshole!” you snap out.

“What the hell y/n?” Rafe pops up over the wall with a glare, “Are you trying to break my neck?”

“Yes, actually. It’s the least you deserve after taking us in there!” You reply stepping forward to shove him again but Topper holds you back.

“Look let’s not fight, okay? Let's just get back to the car and get out of here before whatever is in there comes out here.” Topper decides for you all, you don’t protest when he takes your hand for the third time tonight. The touch comforting even outside of the building, you definitely needed it walking through the pitch black trees.

Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves had you snapping your head round, certain something was following the four of you. Rafe constantly told you to calm down, while Kelce would rub your shoulder comfortingly. The only one seemingly unaffected by the nights events was Rafe but you couldn’t tell if he truly didn’t care or if he was putting on a brave face. Knowing Rafe it could be either of them.

You let out a groan of relief when Rafe’s truck comes back into view, running over to it with your hand still clutching onto Toppers. You crawled into the back seat, eagerly buckling yourself in and ready to get back into figure eight and away from this place forever. The pogues could have the creepy haunted building, you wanted nothing more to do with it.

The drive back was silent, Rafe humming along to the radio like nothing had happened, Kelce staring blankly out of the window and your and Topper clutching onto each other in the back. You decided to go back to Rafe’s, Rafe wanted to party and honestly the rest of you just didn’t want to be alone.

Inside Rafe’s living room you curled up onto the corner of the couch, gladly accepting the glass of whiskey the host offered you, gulping half of it down in one go and slowly feeling your body stop shaking. The more the four of you drank the more the conversation started flowing again, the alcohol helping the night feel a little less real.

You were sipping on your fourth whiskey when the sound of glass smashing behind you caused you to jump out of your skin. You spun round on the couch, noticing a picture laying face down on the floor surrounded in glass, one that had just been hanging on the wall perfectly fine.

You share a look with your friends, horror written across their features - Rafe included. Whatever you had found in that building had decided to follow you home.

@rudyypankow​ @joshy-obx​ @topperthornton​ @starlightstarkey​ @rafej-cambanks​

[nautiscarader]

Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 4: Lost key

Wendy and Dipper find and old drive-in cinema with a locked cabinet inside the projector room...

"lost key" really has almost no connection to the story, it was just excuse to use an idea I've had for a while ;)

One summer the two decided to put their passion for old cheesy movies (the worst they could find (la la la)) to action and try to refurbish and old drive in cinema. It worked for exactly one night, because the projector was haunted.

(Ao3)

===================

Dipper Pines has seen a lot of strange things around Gravity Falls: ancient buildings, communes of magical creatures, tasty fat-free food, you name it. And yet, on occasions like these, despite his years of expertise, he was still stumped by his findings.

- Why would anyone build a huge empty billboard in the middle of the woods?

He scratched his head, walking around a huge once-white rectangle, propped between trees that now have overgrown it, blocking it from sight. Only because of its unnaturally light colour he and Wendy have managed to spot it during one of their many walks around the forest.

And it was Wendy that very quickly made him realise that the thing he was looking at was not exactly what he thought it to be.

- Dude, it's a screen! - she exclaimed - This must have been a drive-in theatre!

She spread her arms, and only now Dipper realised how oddly flat the meadow they were on was. He then noticed more and more evidence of her being right: rusty, metal poles he thought to be part of some fences, turned out to be holders for old speakers, though with very little electronics left.

And a huge, moss-covered rock was revealed to be a half-dilapidated carcass of a car that served as a home to some birds that flew way when Dipper uncovered it.

But there was one more mystery, and Wendy was on it, carefully looking around.

- If that's the screen, then the projector must be...

She turned around trying to spot it in the thick forest that have overgrown the place.

- There! Look!

Wendy pointed to a building on a nearby hill they previously thought to be just an abandoned shelter. But a rectangular hole in its wall, pointing towards the screen proved her right once more.

- Jackpot! - Dipper shouted - Let's check it out.

The two didn't have to break in - the door have succumbed to the passage of time years ago, giving Wendy and Dipper a mesmerising sight of an old projector room, filled with antiquated technology, frozen in time, as if they were the first people to explore it.

- Dude... do you think it still works? - Wendy suddenly spoke, as she looked through the hole in the wall at the place they've just left.

The answer became obvious when Dipper pulled the large handle on the wall, and with low, buzzing noise, the equipment woke up from its slumber, though Dipper put it back to sleep, knowing well not to test a potential fire-hazard too much.

- That's awesome! Do you know what that means? - Er, no... - We could, I don't know, renovate this place! This could be a new local attraction!

Dipper's eyes widened.

- You know, this isn't a bad idea! We would need some movies first, though...

He looked around, until he heard Wendy's playful grunt. The red-head was pointing out to a locked, metal cabinet with "Movies" written on it.

- Jackpot again... er, we just need to find a key.

He pointed to the rather imposing paddlock on the door. Wendy snickered.

- Stay back, man, I've got this.

She grabbed her axe and with a precise move, she hit the rusty piece of metal that practically turned to dust, and with a loud clunking noise, the door moved.

Wendy and Dipper eagerly grabbed each wing and opened it ajar, revealing rows of old circular reels of film, covered in only a thin layer of dust, preserved by time.

Dipper grabbed one of them, and gently blew the dust away, revealing the title.

- "Hare goulash"? - he raised his brow - From 1933... wow, this place is from the forties! Old as heck. - Maybe it's old, but it's still one of our finest!

With a loud, cluttering noise, Dipper dropped the metal reel to the ground when a third voice joined theirs. Wendy jumped back as well, and readied her weapon, though she was not quite prepared for what she saw.

A ghost with thick, bushy eyebrows and a moustache appeared from between the reels of old movies, wearing a tuxedo, a bowtie and a comically large glasses.

- Woah, lady, be careful with that axe, I've already cut down on my smoking!

He pointed a ghostly cigar at her and, contrary to his own words, took it back into his mouth, much to both Dipper's and Wendy's confusion.  

- Who are you? - Me? I should be asking you, I didn't know the circus was back in town! You are the weirdest travelling salespeople we've had in years! - Er... we?

Wendy asked the question, just as the answers revealed themselves to them. With more cluttering, two more spectres materialised from the storage closet, one wearing a bowler hat and the other a rather tarnished cylinder, eyeing the two living beings with eerie, wide-eyed stares.

- Woah, nelly, are we back in action? - the second ghost asked - I sure hope they haven't invented color movies, I only have black and white clothes!

The third ghost didn't say anything, but filled the room with melodious tune of his flute, at least until he looked at Wendy, and whistled loudly.

- Hey, watch out! - Dipper stepped forward. - Watch? - the first ghost chimed back, floating around her - Aren't you the ones to do so? We're the actors here! - What the-

Dipper yelped when his vision was obscured by his own vest being tossed over his head by the other two ghosts.

- Well, great, now the spectres have spectators! So, what are you kids doing here? Cos' I hate to break it you, you ain't gonna sell us any cookies to us.

The ghost with rather thick, bushy eyebrows sat, or rather levitated over the chair and produced a large cloud of smoke from what would be his lungs.

- We've just found this place. - Dipper explained, fixing his clothes - So, do you guys live here?

A loud, horn noise filled the room when one of the ghost produced one from nowhere and honked it at Dipper.

- Time-out for the nosy one! You don't say "live" to a ghost, you know. - Okay, okay - Wendy continued - Were you guys locked in this closet? - No complaints from me - the middle ghost answered - I can't imagine a better company than these two.

He hugged his two ghostly friends, much to their displeasure.

- Imagine that happening for sixty years. And he's the one who thinks he can sing! - Er, do you... do you guys have names? - Moustachio, at my service! - the moustache-wearing one bowed, and reached for Wendy's hand, only to grab and kiss his own. - Chorizo! - the second one lifted his hat, revealing two ghostly mice living underneath it - And this one's Honky, you can guess why.

Another loud sound, this time from a trombone filled the room, when Honky greeted Dipper and played his ghostly instrument.

- Okay, that's-that's neat... I guess. I'm Dipper, and this is Wendy.

Dipper introduced them to the ghosts, still standing a few feet away from them.

- We, uh, we were thinking if we could renovate this place... - Why? Are these cobwebs out of fashion?

The ghost grabbed both ends of his moustache and spread it apart, revealing several ghost spiders on an impressive grid of cobwebs.

- Ew! Stop it!

Wendy automatically swiped her axe, slicing the ghost in half.

- Hey, if you think I need to get back on a diet, you could have just told me! - Chorizo spoke, tugging his lower part back as if it was his pants. - No, you don't get it - Dipper continued - Wendy... Wendy just had an idea that we could bring this place back to li-, I mean, make it work again. - So we could play your movies again! They are all yours, right? - Hey, this one's bright! - Chorizo said, putting sunglasses onto his nose. - Hmm...

Moustachio twirled the end of his whiskers, until he grabbed his two ghostly friends.

- Team meeting! And you two, no peeking!

The see-through ghost turned around and he whispered something to the other two. Chorizo chimed in after a while, and sad tune of violin meant Honky gave his vote on the matter.

After just a few seconds, the three turned around and faced Wendy and Dipper.

- After long and heated discussion we came to a *clear* conclusion. - Moustachio spoke - We're old, you're young, so we hate you by definition. Get out of our lawn, it was nice meeting you!

And with that, the ghosts grabbed Wendy and Dipper and unceremoniously tossed them out of the bunker-like building, closing what remained of the door right in front of their nose.

- Oh, you little-

Wendy got up at once and tried kicking the dilapidated door open.

- Is that the pizza? It better be, it's been half a century!   - Open up, you old farts! - Wendy roared - Uh, Wen-Wendy? - Dipper gently nudged her - Maybe we shouldn't be interrupting them...? - Are you kidding me? We could make this place running and have fun, and these three weirdos think they own the place. - Uh, maybe they do? - Dipper raised his brow - I mean, it looks like this place has a whole set of their movies...

Wendy gave him a disappointed stare.

- I thought you were on with this plan... - Uh, Wendy, listen - he quickly corrected himself - I like watching old movies with you, but you know, at your place. I don't need- - But wouldn't it be more fun? To see them on big screen? - We could just... go to the regular movies, you know.

Wendy's smile faded away.

- You're no fun...

She kicked a nearby rock and turned around, and began walking down the hill.

- We-Wendy, wait!

Dipper slid after her, trying not to tumble down.

- Okay, let's-let's say I'm up with... this crazy plan. How could we do this?

Wendy's freckled face lightened, gracing Dipper with a beaming smile. She reached to her pocket and took her phone out.

- Well, answer this: who are you gonna call?

Dipper's eyes widened, as he understood her plan.

- Oh, great, phoneboxes can fit in a pocket now! Hope the bills are equally small. - Moustachio said, appearing out of the ground.

Several hours and one phonecall later, Wendy and Dipper came back to the abandoned drive-in theater, equipped with the best vacuum cleaners they could get.

The two shared knowing looks, nodded and stormed inside the projector room, ready to kick the ghosts' non-existent butts.

- Oh, good, we were waiting for you! We needed a fourth one. - Moustachio, Chorizo and Honky tossed their cards into the air, as the three left their card game. - And the small one can be the joker! - Hey! - Wendy stepped forward - Don't you ever call him that...

She turned on the portable vaccum cleaner and with a steady hand, aimed it at the three, with Dipper quickly joining her, sucking the stale air, and the ghosts with it.

The three spectres let out sharp yells (Honky using a triangle), and grabbed a nearby rail, as their bodies stretched and thinned, being sucked into the machines Dipper and Wendy pointed at them.

But as the two were sure of their victory, the three ghosts escaped their grip with ease, proving they were never in any danger at all, laughing and pointing at the teenagers, floating freely above them.

- Oh come on, using Hoovers to get rid of ghosts? - Moustachio rolled his eyes - We were the ones making comedies for fifty years, and even that plot is too silly for us. - And I bet you didn't even change the bags, we're kinda sick of the dust and all! - Oh, we were not going to trap you here...

Wendy and Dipper smiled at the same time, reaching into their pockets.

- Don't you know that cameras can trap souls?

And with that, the room was illuminated with flashes of light, as the two began shooting the ghosts with photo after photo, making them twist and writhe in after-agony.

A loud piano tune broke the silence, as Honky waved a white flag.

- Alright, alright, stop doing that! - Moustachio yelled - We've already sold our souls to Hollywood, who knows how much we have left.

At once, Dipper and Wendy lowered their "weapons", still wearing the same cocky smiles.

- So, you youngsters want to spend a night at a cinema, eh? Well, I guess it's yours, we can haunt a vaudeville or something. - Nah, you can stay here. - Wendy eagerly countered - We just wanted to do some cleaning...

The two raised their vacuum cleaners and turned them on, this time pointing to the dusty, dusty floor.

===========

It took Dipper a better part of the day cleaning the projector room, and the next four or five days restoring the parking lot.

Wendy offered to cut down the trees that have overgrown the place, and she came back the next day with a few benches made out of the same wood, as the place was certainly not up for any cars anymore.

Dipper took care of the electric circuits, making sure the place was up to the modern standards ("You don't want to know how much worse the Health and Safety inspectors are in the afterlife, kiddo!").

Wendy also nicked some fresh white bedsheets and used them to repair the white screen to properly display the movie.

By the end of a week of tiring work, the theater, though still looking old, was at least brought to a working state, with Wendy and Dipper excited to be it first customers, before opening it to the public.

They walked into the projector room, where the three ghosts turned on the machine, lighting up the glade with white light. But as Dipper was about to pick up a reel of a movie, Moustachio grabbed it and absorbed them into his see-through body, together with the rest of the collection.

- Hey! What gives? - Wendy shouted back. - You know, we gave it a thought, and we're not just gonna play the movies for ya'. - Moustachio spoke - I figured out how to retroactively file a copyright claim on our movies! They're no longer in public domain, they're in boo-blic domain.

The three ghosts grinned.

- If you want to run this cinema, now you have to pay us! - And we will adjust for inflation! - Chorizo added. - What? No! - We should bust you again just because of that joke. - Dipper added - And besides, who told you how to do that?

By now, Dipper should have learned not to ask questions about money in Gravity Falls.

- Hiya kids! - Grunkle Stan?!

Wendy and Dipper roared in disbelief, as the old entrepreneur casually walked into the room, playfully swinging his cane.

- I see you've met my pals! - he grinned jovially and closed his arm around the ghosts in a brotherly hug. - And I gotta tell you, I have huge plans for this place. Look, I stole some microchips or whatnot from Ford and glued them to the cups.

He tilted a large styrofoam cup he was holding, proudly presenting a small, sparkling device underneath it.

- And apparently, now you cannot get refills! You have to buy a new drink every time! And I only kinda understand how it works!

He burst into maniacal laughter, dragging his ghostly friends with him. The men laughed and walked out of the projector room, though only one of them was able to do it without colliding into a wall.

- Well, looks like this is it.

Dipper sighed and turned away, kicking a half-century old can. But he quickly felt Wendy's hand on his shoulder, as she stopped him.

- Maybe... but guess who made camrips of their movies?

She waved her phone, and Dipper's face brightened, before they too burst into a fit of giggles. With the prize in their hand, the two teenagers were soon running away to a much cozier place.

A few minutes later, they were sitting in the dilapidated car, in front of now-empty screen, their faces illuminated by the light of the cellphone. The two laughed, as an actor from the bygone days said the same joke for the fifth time in a row, getting his face plastered with a pie.

- Hey, Dipper? - Wendy suddenly asked, in the middle of a musical number - Yeah? - Thanks for everything. And for... you know, helping me out. - Yeah, shame it didn't work. - Hey, it wasn't that bad. We've had some fun, didn't we?

Even though her face was half-hidden in shadows, Dipper could see a faint blush, contrasting with her gleaming, emerald eyes, which in turn made his cheeks match her.  

Their faces got closer and closer, and suddenly, the warm August night became as hot as noon in the middle of a heatwave. And just as their lips were about to meet, they were drowned in white, bright light and they jumped in their seats as the old speaker crackled with a high-pitched noise.

The two looked at the sign projected on to the screen, and groaned, when the ghost repeated those words.

- Kissing costs extra five bucks!

[littlefreya]

Heart of Darkness

Synopsis: Slight sequel to Overprotected. Walter’s longing wife comes to visit him at his office.

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: Explicit, graphic smutty sex, rough oral sex, choking, role play, pleasure denial, rough sex. MaleDom / FemSub. Slight fluff though. 

A/N: A special thanks for @agniavateira or helping me proof my work. I don’t own Night Hunter / Nomins or Marshall!

Title: Heart of Darkness

The heating is broken at the station. It’s either that, or Walter came up with some new methods of torture to interrogate his suspects. I’ve never seen him in action, I’m not sure if it’s the shame of this very darkness that lives within him, or his desperate attempt to keep me safe from the horrors of the night. His colleagues filled me in a while ago, mentioning he tends to go rough, violent, even brutal at times. 

They know very little for I bask in Walter’s darkness. I’m the first to witness the terror that consumes him and shadows his soul. I drink from his desire, joining him in this violent lovemaking. It’s the only thing that helps him cleanse his demons.

It brings us closer. 

And yet, he doesn’t want me here. He fights to keep me secluded as if I was some porcelain doll. 

As if I don’t see my share of blood and death every day. 

I walk through the chilled halls of the station, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. Even though I’m wearing a large, thick winter coat, it feels like it’s four degrees here. I shouldn’t have worn a skirt beneath all this, but how could I have known? I left five text messages which remained unanswered. It’s not unusual. He is busy, and sometimes he forgets. 

It doesn’t mean this doesn’t piss me off.

I find him in his office, with a phone pressed to his ear. His bulky body faces the window while he talks down some crime lab trainee for messing up the evidence. He turns to see who dares to barge his office uninvited, his blue eyes pale as glaciers. They immediately melt as he realizes it’s me. 

“I don’t care how. Get a new sample or I’ll make sure you’ll never hear the end of this!” He ends the call without a goodbye and drops the device on his desk. His arms grab the edges of the chair tightly while he stares down, letting his soft dark curls fall on top of his forehead.

“What are you doing here, pet? You know I don’t like you coming here.” 

I take off my long coat, hanging it next to the door. His office is only slightly warmer. It’s smaller, and Walter emits enough warmth on his own. Everyone is walking around in their coats and jackets but he's in a black wool sweater per usual, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his wide forearms.

“I missed you” I answer, pretending not to tremble but the fumes that come out of my mouth give me away. 

I take a small, slow twirl in the secluded space, inspecting the room. There's so little light in here. On the shelf, he has some books about the history of crime and criminology, with his diploma and badges of honour laid next to it. Not out of pride, but out of compliance. Walter is not an arrogant man, he’s actually the opposite. He doesn’t have time for chasing glory, all he does is out of pure heroism, some would even say out of altruism.   

The morbid photos next to his desk catch my eyes. Images of victims. They hang on a board latched to the wall, along with a map, and a thick, red string that trails the locations where the bodies were found. These are young women, mutilated, their lives were stolen from them by selfish monsters. 

I get to see my share of blood every day, sometimes even death. But, this is not something anyone should see. 

And this is what he sees all the time, probably also in his dreams. The ghosts of the girls he couldn’t save haunt him; it’s not his fault, but he’d never see it that way. For him, every girl who died on his watch is a girl he has failed.  

My fingers press against the ring on my finger, twisting it anxiously. I can feel my heart shrinking to the size of a walnut. I wish I could suck the pain out of him as you do with poison.

“I told you…” he speaks with a deep frown on his face, as if he is angry with me for entering his cave of horrors. He was in a foul mood before I got here, and I defied his request. I am the one teasing the tinders with more wind and fuel. 

All I wanted was to bring my light into his world, at least for a little while.

“You visit me at work all the time,” I answer, inching closer toward his desk. I try to ignore the sourness in my throat as the horrifying images on the wall stare right at us.  

He gives me a small smile, almost invisible amongst the wrinkles of grumpiness on his forehead. 

“It’s a part of my job to come to the hospital, and it’s the only one in the county.”

That’s how we met. 

I was in my first year of residency. The tall, burly man with the most caring blue eyes appeared in the hospital. I have seen Walter once before that, spending an evening at the local Irish bar with his friends. The toughness on his face was the only thing I remembered then. I thought he was hot, obviously, though I didn’t bother approaching him. 

I didn’t fall in love with him until I saw the ocean of benevolence he kept under that hard shell. 

He came to visit a victim and stayed the night to make sure the aggressor won’t return, and that the girl is taken care of. I felt his eyes on me every now and then, silently observing me when I was checking up on other patients. He tried to strike a small conversation, about the girl first, and then about my job at the hospital. I believed the British giant was just being polite and passed the long, boring night by chit-chat. I should have known I was being interrogated to see if I’m single or not. 

Suddenly, he appeared at the hospital every other day, to check up on “the girl”. The first night, he brought me some coffee because “I work crazy hours,” and he thought I’d like some to drink. Then, it was coffee and a sweet pastry to eat. For a week and a half, I had a constant visitor who took care of my caffeine and sugar intake. My colleagues teased me for suddenly wearing perfume to work, and how I’d blush whenever “Sir Big Dick” arrived.

On the last evening, he came to my department and found me signing some charts. I’ve told him the girl was released during the morning, but of course, he knew that. He smiled at me and offered me a single red rose instead, asking if I’d like to accompany him for a real dinner this time.

Four years since then, he comes to visit even when there are no victims. Sometimes, I’m worried he does that out of fear that something will happen to me, and not just out of a romantic gesture to see his wife. 

“Is it part of your job to stalk your wife?”

He slouches on his chair heavily, making it squeak beneath his weight. His eyes rise to gaze at my face. There is a weariness in them, the kind that even sleep can’t cure anymore. I fear the day when my husband will stray too far from the light, when the heart of darkness will clutch its ugly thorns in his tender flesh. 

“It is my job to make sure the citizens of this county are safe.” 

I roll my eyes at him, walking to stand behind his chair. My hands reach to clutch his broad shoulders as I begin to knead the tense muscles with mild force. He stiffens for a moment and then emits a soft groan, flexing and trying to relax beneath my touch.

“Do you bring red roses to all the citizens in our county?” I speak with a sultry voice, moving my hands to his collarbone. Walter closes his eyes and throws his head back, a deep groan vibrates from the pit of his throat. 

“Only the hot ones,” he answers as his hand finds my leg and snakes up my bare skin, running all the way up beneath my skirt to find the curve of my ass. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s freezing in here.” I answer, leaning into the warmth of his palm as he strokes up and down my thigh to keep me warm.  

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” he guides me toward him to sit in his lap. His hands run up and down my legs, exposing more of my skin while a soft smile spreads across his rugged face. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you came here to seduce a police detective.”

I bite my lower lip, wrapping my hands around his neck while my ass sinks against his groin. I feel so safe in his touch, with his coarse hands that burn hot on my flesh. 

“Why? Is that a crime?”

“Actually, yes.”

I pull away from him, standing against the edge of the desk with a teasing smirk across my face. His hand reaches out to my knees, not wanting to break contact. He has been deprived of it all day long, abandoned in the cold. 

Now here I am, the only warmth he knows.

“Show me then.”

He licks his lips, still smiling as he is caught up with my little flirtatious act. “Show you what, pet?”

“What interrogation methods would you use? How would you squeeze a dirty little secret out a seductress like me?” I place the heel of my boot between his straddled thighs, preventing him from moving and asserting my dominance to provoke him.  

His eyes narrow at me while he considers the idea. I see how the ethical balance begins to tip, the ball falling from one scale to the other. His better judgment becomes lost in a thick cloud of lust. 

“You keep secrets from me?” he asks as he plays along.

“Maybe…” I stretch the word, giving him a wicked flirtatious smile. 

Somewhere deep inside this good man, there is a big black dog, hungry to rip this willing victim to shreds. 

He peers at my leg and then up into my eyes while his fingers reach to gently tickle beneath my knee. I hum in delight, throwing my head back, my leg losing its strength, my assertiveness leaning on the edge along with my ankle. 

“I’d begin by putting you in a position where you don’t have any power whatsoever,” he speaks in a voice that’s gruff and low, his fingers now pressing hard and I’m forced to straighten my leg and lower it to the floor.

The smile on his face becomes cold and his eyes darken as he moves to stand in front of me. His leans against me, his torso pressed against my chest, his chin against my forehead as he lowers his head.

“Down on your knees.” 

These words take my breath away, making my skin prickle with nervousness. I follow his orders with the obedience of a good wife. My knees lay pressed against the cold floor, I try not to tremble too much. I’m not sure if it’s just the temperature of the room, or the dark glare on Walter’s face.

His groin is at the level of my face, the outline of his cock showing through the fabric of his trousers as it begins to harden.

He reaches out his hands to cradle my face. Stroking my hair back, examining my face as if he is learning my features for the first time. The smile diminished from his face the moment I went down on my knees. Now he stares at me with the severity of his bad detective attitude.   

“You’re very pretty,” he compliments me, but it sounds more of a fact than anything sweet. His fingers caress my cheeks and then at the corners of my lips, forcing me to part my lips. “Pretty little mouth too, does it talk?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing, Detective” I play along, if I’ve known we’re actually doing THAT, I would have prepared a script. 

His hands run to stroke the hair away from my face, beginning in a tender affectionate touch, he collects every strand lovingly until my hair is bundled between his strong palms. I can feel the softness of his touch draining away. 

“Undo my belt.” He commands. 

“I don’t…”

“You don’t want me to ask again.”

My hands tremble with fear and excitement as my fingers fumble with the metal clasp of his belt. Walter’s eyes look at me carefully, completely devoted to this role. I wonder how much of his job is pretence and how much is actually him.

“What do you say if I’ll fuck your mouth until you cry?” 

He asks while reaching one hand to unzip his trousers, freeing his beautiful large cock and stroking it in front of me for display. I can’t help but lick my lips, like a hungry kitten presented with creamy delight. The little drop of pre-cum that trickles down his shaft is too inviting. 

“I’d say you still won’t hear a word from me,” I provoke. 

Walter gives a short smile, tugging my hair back painfully until I’m forced to part my lips open into a breathless gasp of pain.

 “Take me in your mouth.” 

Usually, when I please him, I’d begin with a soft teasing, licking my way up and down his hardness until I finally take him in and begin working him sensually.

I am not granted any of that courtesy right now.

Walter forces himself into the wet heat of my mouth with the delicacy of a grunt. A deep, throaty groan echoes in the room as he is surrounded by my hot saliva and is pressed against the softness of my tongue. 

I choke out a mewl as he completely fills my mouth, feeling the head of his cock nearing the back of my throat. My cheeks betray me, sucking by instinct to savour his girth. Every inch of my body knows Walter all too well, it succumbs to the man that owns it, physically and emotionally.  

I look up to him with helpless glossy eyes. Victory showers his face, golden and bleak at the same time. He lets his callous long fingers clasp around the hollow of my cheeks to force me to keep my mouth open wide just to please him.

I gasp for air as he pulls back slowly. Just a cruel act to make me think we’re done, but we are far from that.

“Loosen your mouth pet, I am going deeper.”  

He warns and shoves himself in again, this time deeper as promised, relishing on my muffled whimpers he puts one hand on the back of my head and begins to buck his hips. Fucking my mouth in the rhythm that fulfils his lust.

My heart pounds on my chest, my knees begin to hurt as I try to move with him. But I’m his good girl, breathing through my nose, letting my tongue lap around his lavished cock lovingly while he uses me as the wet hole he unloads into. 

His eyes are glistening, ecstasy drawing near. I look up to stare at him, admiring how glorious he is. My large man, so confident and dominating. His beautiful dark curls frame his square face, bringing out his high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. And damn, that voice, those low melodic hums of pleasure making my entire body shake.   

I choke onto his swollen cock. Tears stained dark grey thanks to my eyeliner and mascara, run down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry beautiful,” he speaks with cynical sweetness, his thumb wiping the tears away from one cheek as he carefully withdraws from my mouth, allowing me to breathe once again. “All you need to do is tell me what you’re hiding and this will end.”

I gasp for air, my chest slightly heaving while his fingers run under my eyes to clean the black mess that is smeared on my face. He remains silent, the wrinkles between his brows are deep and severe while he is still pulling his bad cop act. Yet the way his hands run over my face with care gives him away so easily.

“Is this the worst you can do? Some detective you are!”

I provoke him, laughing patronizingly with my voice still husky, the edge of my throat slightly sore from having to endure his size in its depth. Walter chuckles momentarily before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up to sit on his desk. 

“Spread ‘em” he nearly barks, but it’s not really an order since his hands press my knees apart widely, exposing the dampness on my underwear. He smoothes both hands up my thighs roughly, his thumbs reaching out until reaching to my core. 

I let my head back, feeling how his thumb massages me, pressing against my covered clit and drawing circles against it.

“You like that, little slut?”

“Yes…” I throw my head back and moan, my hands holding hard at the edges of the desk while I spread myself to him as much as possible and grinding my hips to steal more friction.

“You want more?” he teases while his fingers slowly slip my underwear to one side, exposing me to the cold air in the room. I’m so drenched for him right now, held open, anticipating like sliced fruit. He reaches out for his cock and begins to stroke himself in front of me, a wicked grin adorning his face.

I’m very much aware he can finish himself just like this while leaving me here to beg out of thirst. Well, I can do that too. I lift my hand to touch myself, nearly losing balance but he shoves his thighs between my legs right away and holds my wrist away.

“Ah, ah” he forbids. “You’re not touching yourself, you’re still under investigation.”

“If you don’t finish me off…” I threaten him but my intimidation breaks into a pathetic cry as I feel the head of his cock rubbing against my clit. 

“You’ll what?” he asks, running the tip between my throbbing lips and up to my clit. Back and forth he tortures me, increasing the pace and then slowing down. His groans convince me he may be enjoying this more than actually fucking me, seeing me so helpless and weak, willing to cry and beg for him to just put himself inside me. “I’m still waiting to hear what you’re hiding.” 

I close my eyes, head thrown back in agony and pleasure at once, so close yet so far away as Walter pushes just an inch inside, and then pulls out and strokes me again. 

I am still not willing to break completely, what’s the fun in that? I know my man, and I’m aware of his darkest desires and capabilities.

Let him unleash his worst. 

“Not a word from me, Detective, you’ll just have to try harder.”

His nostrils flares. 

“Fine, then I’ll just have to punish fuck you, drill you like a whore.” He pushes all the way in, making me whimper with bliss as I am finally whole again. 

I’ve led him just to where I wanted. His body conquering mine, filling me with the pleasure that’s not just physical.

Somehow both his hands find their way to my neck, holding me constrained while he allows my body to stretch for him. He makes me stare directly into his eyes, holding my face close to him, his hot mouth hovers onto mine, our breath mingling.  

I wrap myself completely around him, my boots pressing onto his ass to keep him buried deep inside. My hands hang onto his shoulders as if hanging to lift itself. 

He begins to finally move, grunting against my ear, his beard tickling at my neck while he thrusts me fast and hard. I grind onto him, our bodies making the erotic sounds of wet bodies as they slam together. 

This isn’t romantic lovemaking, he’s not tender and caring. His force is controlling, consumed by his demons once again. He fucks into me as if he wants to rip me apart, his hands depriving me of air, tight, perhaps too tight. Yet it’s still love, he would have not been able to have this with any other person and I would have not given it to him if I have not loved him as much.

The desk moves as he pounds me, he stretches his arms somewhat to lean me back, so he can look at me as I squirm beneath him, choked, fucked, and beautiful in his arms. We have both long forgotten our stupid game. We were too lost in the act of seeking out pleasure in one another’s bodies. 

I look back at the man I love, feeling the tremor that dances between my legs. My entire body quivers. My muscles embrace him deep inside as I come hard around his cock, snapping my eyes open, gasping at his sight.

He has his fingers engulfed roughly around my throat, leaving blue bruises. If he’d want me to stop breathing at this moment, he could so easily just push slightly tighter. I’d die happy in his arms, but I know he’d kill himself before ever really hurt me. His hands finally snap from my throat and reach instead to hold my face, crashing his lips against mine into a deep hungry kiss before breaking away and letting out one final gasp as true bliss sweeps him away. 

For more than a few moments, Walter is lost, buried deep inside me, surrounded by light.   

That’s when I break, entangling my fingers in his big soft curls, I inch my lips toward his ear to whisper, 

“I’m pregnant.”

Walter backs his face away to look at me, first with disbelief, his eyebrows rising, unable to even form a word. I’ve never seen so many emotions at once. Then a smile appears, so wide I think his cheeks may hurt. His beautiful teeth show and he lets out a chuckle of joy, sounding almost half-believing. 

“Really?” 

I melt as I see the twinkle in his eyes. The man who is always so grumpy and gruff looks now like the sweetest, most caring person in the world. 

“Yes, we're going to have a baby.” 

He kisses me lovingly, his arms wrapping around my back and holding me tightly. 

“Detective Walter do you ha… SHIT!” A young cadet barges in, finding me with my legs spread around Walter while he is still panting heavily with his curls sticky at his forehead.

It’s as bad as it looks.

The frown immediately returns to Walter’s face. Looking at the cadet as if he is ready to murder him at the spot.

“GET OUT!” he yells, throwing whatever’s within his reach to force the cadet out faster.

I can’t help but chuckle, wrapping my arms around my mountain of a man, there is so much of him to hug, it always makes me feel so protected. He leans his cheek against my forehead and then lets out a deep sigh. 

That’s when I know the darkness is returning, and now he has a brand new fear in him. 

[harveywritings92]

Someone flirts with you in front of them: Shay, Edward, Shaun.

Shay Cormac: Y/n's father had hired a new assistant undertaker at the funeral home, a one Mr. Ronald McFinley he was an average looking brown hair, gray eyes freckles and a somewhat spoiled man from a upper-middle class upbringing, His parents had asked (begged) Y/n's father to take him on as an apprentice as favor due to Ronald being barred from other medical education and practices.

*e.I. he's a spoiled brat who thinks he knows everything.*  

Mr.L/n reluctantly agreed to take him on the Scotsman wasn't a bad worker but he wasn’t a good one either as Mr L/n or and another worker would have to fix any mistakes he had made in his haste and  laziness.

Another thing that started to show was Ronald's very obvious affections for the undertaker's pretty daughter Y/n, often starring at her from afar or slacking in his studies daydreaming about an imaginary life together, he'd often abandon his post at work just to waste time and talk her.

The young y/ec woman however found him annoying she had a dislike for men like Ronald flashy, rich and obnoxious. men who only wanted a woman like herself; simply because she's pretty.... not because of her personality or her intelligence, No... Men like Ronald just want a pretty little ornament to hang off his arm and make babies for him.

Evident by the expensive gifts, clothes and money he would flash at her in hopes she'd swoon into his arms and every time she would send it back and every time she would say "No." each time Ronald would never get the hint.

That was until Shay came home, it seemed like any other day, Ronald was slacking in his studies trying again trying vain to get Y/n's affection and hand which her father had rejected when the young Scotsman had asked for his permission to marry her, it's was a silver and pearl necklace this time.

 He cleared his throat to get the y/ht woman's attention and she sighed rolling her eyes waiting for his "My lovely or dear Y/n" spiel again only to noticed someone come in the funeral home someone who Y/n greatly missed tears welled in her eyes as a happy smile slowly found it's way on her face.

Ronald not seeing the man behind thought he'd finally done it and won Y/n's heart opened his arms wide thinking she was going to leap into his arms with happiness instead he was blindsided when she shoved him aside and tearfully called out 

"Shay!" and watched as she ran into the arms of a very large dark haired stranger dressed in black with a scar on his face the gray eyed man stared slack jawed as the object of his affection pulled this "Shay" into a passionate kiss before pulling away eyes locked lovingly on each other.

Only for their moment to be broken by a seething Ronald who cleared his throat getting their attention, Y/n's mood dropped having her reunion with her lover interrupted. "Oh... still here um...Roy?" Ronald blinked in disbelief one kiss with this filthy street dog, and she couldn't remember his name?! a vein appeared on the Scotsman's neck.

"Ronald Howard McFinley." he hissed venom dripped on every word as he glared daggers at Shay who looked like he was about to say something only for Ronald suddenly reach out and slap him with a glove. "And challenge you... to a duel!?!?" he screamed as Y/n and Shay looked at each other than at Ronald"Are you serious?" the Irishman snorted but the brown haired man started rambling pistols at dawn and all that, before Shay sighed calmly lifted  his left hand like he was going to ask a question.

Ronald quieted down to hear what the Irishman had to say only to get a palm-Strike to the forehead knocking Ronald flat on his arse, the gray eyed man rolled around on the floor holding his forehead and wailing all while the couple shook their heads at the spectacle.

"I thought your father was exaggerating, when he wrote you were being tormented by a man-child." Shay said as they stepped over the rolling man, Y/n clung to his arm affectionately. "Oh, Shay you know my father's bad at jokes." she stated as they when to somewhere private to be reacquainted. From then on, Ronald. Who was sporting a ridiculous bruise on his forehead started behaved himself and take his job seriously (Shay had few words with him) stayed away from Y/n and was best warn any other potential suitors of her scary husband to be.

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Edward:

They weren't together per say... mainly due to Edward's wife Caroline and Y/n respected that boundary no matter how much it hurt, But that still didn't stall the bubbling rage Edward felt the second redheaded man sat down next to Y/n taking up much of her attention away from him, he watched at the man said something that made his lass laugh...

Edward's lips curled into a snarled and averted his eyes to look at his ale not even paying attention to the barmaid who kept trying to get him to look at her and left in a huff when Edward wouldn't budge, Then Edward noticed something was askew in Y/n's voice her laughter seemed tight and forced, Edward swallowed pride and looked back at the the Y/hc who disappeared from her original spot he scanned the tavern and found her a few tables down from his, he grimaced seeing the y/nat woman squirming in in her seat as she shrugged the red haired man's arm off her for what seemed to be the umpteenth time on her end.

The assassin Y/n tried move away Red would follow her and plant himself right next to her. Finally Edward had enough the next time Y/n went to find somewhere to sit the assassin nodded at a few of his crew to sit up and start walking around in a cluster effectively blocking Red's view of Y/n.

Edward took this opportunity to grab her arm and pulled Y/n into his lap and shushed her, just as his men sat back down, they sat back to chest as Edward's larger frame hid Y/n from the Red haired man who looked around the tavern confused before noticing Edward.

"Oy mate you see where that tarty bar wrench went?" Y/n felt a growl rumble in Edward's chest Next thing she knew Adéwalé​​​​​​​ had lifted her out of Edwards lap she heard Red let out a girly "Eep!" as the blond pirate suddenly grabbed him by his collar and had pinned to the counter down by the back of his neck.

"That Lady is named Y/n and she no wrench, if I see you any of your friends near her again." Edward unsheathed his hidden blade and lowered it towards the red haired man's crotch. "I will cut your instruments off and feed em' to a shark, do you understand?" 

Red went ghost white and nodded before Edward threw him of the counter. "Good. Now get out of my sight!" the blond hissed retracting his blade Red did as he was told before Edward grabbed his tankard gulped down his ale and got Y/n out of that tavern and back to the Jackdaw to help Y/n get Red's stench of her.  

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Shaun: Takes place in AC III:  before heading to the temple the Assassin's had stopped off in a very small rural town that acted as a base for the american assassin branch almost everyone in this town was an Assassin. Reader is a Civilian who got pulled into their group by accident.

They were in the laundromat/pizza parlor waiting for food and their spare clothes to dry, when Rebbeca alerted Shaun to Y/n's situation seems his girlfriend (no matter how much he denies it) has attracted a very unwanted guest, Shaun looked up from his lap top to see what Rebecca was prattling on about to see Y/n at her washing machine being hounded by a pimply faced teen who looked 16-19 years old who was getting very lewd and grabby with his unwanted flirting.

Desmond shot the British man a look and mumbled "say something to the little creep!" a Shaun lips formed a thin line as he observed them for a moment before going back to his computer seemingly not caring what was happening, Rebecca and Desmond were taken aback by this seemingly cold act  they wondered if they had it wrong and that Shaun and Y/n weren't together?

Desmond was about to go scare the guy off, when Suddenly there was a shriek Y/n's back was pressed up the machine she held her arms against her chest, her bra strap were slipping of which pretty much told her friends that the perv had unhooked and tried to pull her bra off, Desmond got up  only for Shaun to speed walk passed him with an eerily calm look on his face.

Rebecca and Desmond watched Shaun take his jacket off give it Y/n before turn to the teen who took a swing at the bespectacled assassin who dodged grabbed the boy's free arm spun him around pinned him to the wall, Shaun had the boy arm twisted painfully around his back. The blond's face was still eerily calm as he whispered something to the boy who's face contorted into horror before Shaun let him go the boy ran out of the Laundromat. 

Shaun check on Y/n  who went back her laundry and went back to Rebecca and Desmond who were gawking at the brit curiously. "What...What ya say to the little creep?" Rebecca dared to ask as Desmond went over Y/n to keep watch while awkwardly eyeing Shaun.

"I told Carmen Schultz, if he didn't back off now I was going to break into his house; 7555 Dune street , and I was going scope out his eyes with a melon-baller and then his rich parents would have to get him a eye pig to dragged his blind ass around town." 

"Why a pig?"

"He's allergic to dogs."

"...Okay, I'm going to write a reminder for D to never to hit on Y/n."

Shaun just huffed and went back to his research as William returned from the the used car-lot with their new van.