#i also imagine beings looking at me through the windows and dark screens and generally the dark but i know thats my crazy mind

[parasitic-saint]

something you need to know abt me is that im extremely scared of artificial voices (think siri, alexa, any voice on gps thingies while driving) and no one believed me when the alexa changed voices one night, even tho i froze in place and all the hairs in my body stand up...

anyway, i'm also terrified of blonde and not really human faces... like that mix specifically (think "i feel fantastic" lady android, max headroom and the first mask of "possibly in michigan")

just felt like sharing <3

[drangeax]

Maybe I Live First

Pairing: Aqua/Vanitas

Rating: M for MILF

Current word count: 16,155

Chapter 4: The Party

Summary: Aqua experiences firsthand the bizarre place a dating app is. Vanitas goes to Kairi’s party.

Read on AO3

 *****************

“Van, it’s not fair. I want to go to the party!” Xion begged for the fifth time.

“No! The music’s going to be loud, and people will bump into each other like drunken idiots.”

Xion rested her hands on her hips. “You’re saying that like you don’t blast your nu-metal when you want to annoy me.”

“I don’t. I close my door," Vanitas countered.

“But—”

“Xion, I said no,” Vanitas said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You know why...”

“That’s not fair…”

“Hey, Roxas’ here,” Sora said, looking through the window. He tapped his foot. “Let’s go go go!”

“If only you put that same energy into studying," Riku said, opening the door for Roxas.

The blond stepped in. "Hey, sup?" 

Sora gave Riku a goofy grin and dangled the car keys before him. "Fun, Riku. F-U-N..."

Riku crossed his arms and stared at him. "You're not driving." Sora chuckled and pocketed the keys.

"Oh, come on. It's my turn."

Vanitas rolled his eyes. He would surely regret this tomorrow. “By the way, tell Ax where I am. You know how he gets,” Vanitas called before closing the door.

Alright, let’s see what the night brings…

 ***

  ‘Your thicc’

Aqua blinked twice at the message on her phone screen. Did he just…? She pinched one of her thighs. Okay, so there was a generous amount of meat on her bones. 

So what if she was? What did that have to do with anything? 

Also…'your thicc’? With that grammar horror, the conversation ended before it even started. She sighed and hit the back button on the chat. The guy’s profile pic stared back at her with a charming smile. Shame, he was so cute, but not enough for her to ignore…everything else. She swiped, searching for something better.

‘ I am fluent in woman.’

Okay, that doesn't sound any better. Next.

‘7 inches of 8=D’

She shook her head. “Seven inches of what? What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes settled on the odd symbol as she cocked her head to the side. Oh! She swiped him away without a second thought.

‘Fun come on rub my chocolate body.’ 

Eh, how about no. Next. 

She swiped again. ‘You may call me daddy’.  

Ugh, no thanks. 

‘Looking for women for dating.’

“As opposed to what? Looking for a victim?” It could’ve been a poorly worded sentence, but she wasn’t about to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in her gut. “Better safe than sorry.”

Her phone chimed. Milfhunter_69 likes you! 

Another chime followed. Serious_Dom likes you!

“Ahhhhh.” She quickly placed her phone face-down on her thigh and crossed her arms. “Why am I attracting the wrong kind of attention? I just want to have a date that might lead to sex…” 

Something about her was not getting her what she wanted. Maybe it was her profile pic or the introductory line…or it could even be the size of her breasts. Aqua looked down at her chest, twisting her lower lip between her teeth. They’re still perky…  

“Okay, maybe I’m being too picky. I’m not that young either...”

Aqua eyed her phone and sighed before returning to it. After a few swipes, she settled on a guy that looked intimidating. 

“Interests: reading, outdoors, fishing, dancing…mmm, interesting.” 

He met all her specifics as well: tall, dark-haired, broad shoulders. Strong enough to pick her up? Maybe. Pleasing to her eyes? Yes, definitely. Her cheeks heated up at the thought. 

She tapped on his profile and scrolled through his pictures. He had tattoos and a dog. Shockingly, he seemed honest about his love of fishing, given there were a couple of pics of him and his buddies doing so. She continued to swipe through his photos.

Oh. Dear. Lord. 

There was a photo of him at the beach in barely there swim shorts. It left little to the imagination. Her eyes wandered down his muscular torso and past the waistband of his shorts. She bit her lip. 

I’m absolutely not staring at his—

“Hey, mom…”

“Ah!” Startled, Aqua dropped her phone on the floor. Ven stood in front of her, eyeing her curiously. “W-what is it, Ven?” Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She hoped Ven wouldn’t think of it.

Ven shifted back and forth on his feet and placed his hands behind his head, looking sheepish. “Umm, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me having Xion over…?”

“Isn’t it a bit…” She eyed the clock, ticking away on the wall. “I mean, no, I don’t mind, but…”

“Well, she just texted me. Asked if she could come over because Axel needs to go out for some reason. Also, Van’s not home right now, and he can’t leave her alone, and—“

“Ven.”

Ven’s face showed signs of distress. “You know, something could happen to her, and O-M-G, if she’s alone—”

Oh boy. He was letting his imagination run wild again. Aqua stood and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Ven, it’s fine. She can come over.” She squeezed his shoulders affectionately. "I said I didn't mind.”

Ven stared at her. “Really?” She nodded. He immediately hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

Aqua smiled. “Am I? Or are you just kissing up to me?”

“Both? I’ll stick with both just to be safe.”

She gaped at him and crossed her arms. “Offensive…but I’ll take it.”

Ven flashed her his signature smile before practically skipping down the hall. She wondered briefly why he seemed so happy. Not that he wasn’t most of the time. ‘Her bright ray of sunshine.’ 

Aqua bent down and picked up her phone. She glazed over the guy’s profile again. Well, he seemed alright…but maybe she should wait until tomorrow to revisit it. Make sure she didn’t lower her expectations and gave into fatigue from scrolling through profiles for a couple of hours.

“Yeah, that’s definitely enough for today.” She set her phone on the coffee table and left for a glass of wine.

A few minutes later, she plopped down on the couch with a glass…and the whole bottle of Rosé. She turned the TV on, flipping through the channels until something caught her attention. There was a vampire and a werewolf both competing for the same girl's attention. She eagerly grabbed her glass, filled it up, and settled back comfortably. 

Mmm…let’s see what happens.

Within fifteen minutes, Aqua poured more wine into her glass. Okay, this woman's too indecisive. 

Thirty minutes later and another glass of wine. “Don’t be stupid. Come on, did you not see his muscles? Pick him!” she said, pouring another glass.

Almost the whole movie later…

“He’s obviously hotter. Why do you like them cold? Team Wolf!" She took a sip from her glass before realizing it was empty. “Mmm.” She eyed the bottle…it was empty as well. No wonder she felt lightheaded and sleepy.

Shit…Again... 

That was enough. She couldn’t keep drinking like that. She set her glass down and curled on the couch as the credits rolled. 

You did it again…

Thoughts simmered in her mind as she slowly fell asleep. Frustration. Anger. Disappointment. It was her daily mindset catching up with her.

 ***

  Loud. That was Vanitas' first thought while watching the frenzied crowd around him. The atmosphere was alive with excitement and music blaring from the speakers. The smell of alcohol and sweat lingered in the air as the local DJ—Demyx—stood behind the booth, spinning the latest tracks. Judging by the drunken dancing and the number of red cups lying around, the party was well underway.

“O-M-G! You guys made it!”

The high-pitched voice startled Vanitas. Of course; if he came to Kairi’s party, she would be there too. 

Duh. Brilliant mind, Van. You’re so smart.  

She greeted Sora and Riku with a kiss on the cheek, then waved at Roxas lazily.

Vanitas stepped aside, rolling his eyes at the annoyance before him. “Yes, you insisted that we come. In fact, you wouldn’t leave the other day until I finally said yes.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Vani…I’ll make sure you won’t regret it,” Kairi said, wedging herself between Sora and Riku. There was a look in her eyes as she stared at him that he knew all too well…

“I already do,” Vanitas said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Kairi crossed her arms and gave him a look. Before she could reply, Vanitas spotted a makeshift bar on the kitchen counter. He nudged Roxas, both walking away from the redhead.

Various drinks lined the marble surface, left completely unattended. Everything from spiced punch to beer and more. There were some savory snacks as well to prevent people from hurling immediately.

"Figured she would jump them as soon as we got here,” Roxas said, pouring himself some punch. “She’s so obvious. I don’t know how most guys don’t catch on to her web of lies.”

Vanitas grabbed a drink and leaned against the counter. “She’s a good liar. It’s easy to fall for it.” He took a sip out of the red cup and grimaced, his throat burned as the drink washed down. Holy hell. The punch was about seventy-five percent alcohol and only a tiny bit of juice. “Shit. This place’s gonna turn into puke central by midnight,” he said, turning to Roxas… who’d already abandoned him. 

“Ugh. Figures.”

The night went slowly. Vanitas mostly kept close to the drinks, watching others get wasted and making fun of them. He even played bartender for a couple of girls that hit on him. None of them was his type, plus they were classmates he’d have to see again at some point. 

So not interested.

Eventually, Riku and Sora waded through the crowd of bodies and found him, dragging him toward a group of people that seemed vaguely familiar. Tidus, Selphie, and Wakka—they were good friends of his cousin. They usually visited the main island during summer break. It eventually ended with a terrible fishing trip with Tidus' dad. The others he didn’t know; Riku introduced them all, but between the buzz of the alcohol and the loud music, he couldn’t remember their overly complicated names. He doubted that Kairi knew them. She didn’t care who came, as long as there were lots of people making lots of noise.

He mostly kept quiet. New people intimidated him. Especially the group of girls to his right. A loud blonde, a shy brunette, and a girl who also kept oddly quiet. Her hair was silver and short, her bangs covering her sharp features. His eyes wandered down her form, her peculiar black leather outfit catching his attention. He then noticed the silver pendant around her neck, with a threaded barbed wire chain. She left a lot to desire in the tits department, but to Vanitas, tits were tits, no matter the size. It looked like she had been dragged to the party just like him. 

Mmm, edgy and bored. Let’s see if she’ll talk to me, at least…  

“Hey.” He nudged his chin at the spot beside the girl. “This seat taken?”

The girl’s red eyes scanned him up and down. She brought her solo cup to her lips. “All yours...”

Vanitas grinned and flopped beside her. “Thanks. So, you from here, or college on the island?”

“College.” Her head tipped backward as she sipped her drink.

"Ah,” Vanitas chuckled, “so, you know Sora and Riku?”

She looked at him and sighed. “Look, I don’t do small talk. If you’re looking for someone to hook up with, try Yuna. You’ll have better luck with her.”

Ouch. Unapproachable much…? He briefly wondered if he came off like that sometimes.

“Truth be told, the girls heard ‘party’ from ‘Seeker of Darkness’ over there, and I got dragged 

here.” 

Bingo. 

“You too, huh?" He leaned forward, holding his cup on his thigh. “Sora insisted I tag along, and once he gets something in his mind—

“There’s no stopping him.”

“Exactly,” Vanitas said, turning to her. 

The girl finished her drink and placed her cup down. “Wanna dance?”

“Fuck yes. Nothing better to do.”

“Paine,” the girl said, getting up from her seat.

“I know, right?”

She shook her head and stretched out her hand. “No. My name’s Paine.”

Vanitas stared at her for a minute. “That’s a fucking cool name .”

Paine laughed and pulled him to the ‘dance floor,’ which was the middle of Kairi’s living room. They were soon absorbed by the mob of drunken people, bodies bumping messily into others. She wasn’t a bad dancer—had interesting moves for someone reserved.

Vanitas rarely danced, but he could hold his own if he needed to. He didn’t have two left feet, as most guys claimed. Now music? That was his vice. If he were deaf, he wouldn’t want to live in this world anymore. What was the point if he couldn’t hear? Wait…that was probably how Naminé felt. Drinking made him eerily sober and philosophical. The fuck. He shook his head and kept dancing.

Soon, the crowd on the ‘dance floor’ parted and gathered near the bar. Sora made an announcement before climbing to the counter. Riku stood near the loud crowd.

“Seeker of Darkness, I want your babies!” A girl shrieked. Riku scratched his head in embarrassment. Vanitas rolled his eyes. Part of him was convinced Riku was gayer than the word ‘gay.’

Sora brought a hose and a funnel to Riku. 

Ah, fuck. There goes my ride.

“Chug, chug, chug!” The crowd chanted as Sora poured beer for Riku to drink. “Chug, chug, chug!” 

Vanitas was sure that amount was dangerously close to alcohol poisoning. Not my circus. Not my monkey. He didn’t tell people how to live their lives. It was theirs to fuck up if they wanted.

Riku accomplished whatever he was challenged to. Despite its insignificant nature, the crowd went wild. Riku stood perfectly still with a dumb grin before he stumbled and fell flat on his face. Everyone grew quiet, the loud music taking over for a few minutes. 

Oh, shit! Did he fucking bite the dust?

Sora jumped off the counter. “Chill, he’s ok. He’ll get up any minute now.”

And so he did, and the crowd cheered like drunken idiots. Riku pulled his shirt off and threw it at the girls yelling for him earlier, flashing them a stupid smirk. Yeah, Riku was definitely not driving them home. Judging by his clumsier-than-usual movements, Sora wasn’t in good shape either. 

Oh, that’s just great. 

Riku barely pushed past the crowd before passing out again. Sora waved off people asking if he was alright, reassuring everyone that he’d be fine in a few minutes. When Riku didn’t stand up after a solid minute, he gave Vanitas a nervous glance.

“Hey, Vani, he’s out cold,” Sora said, his own balance questionable. “And heavy. So help me out, will ya?”

Vanitas sighed and helped his cousin. “Why the fuck is he so heavy?” Vanitas asked as he pulled at Riku's arms. “Fucking hell, Riku...” He pulled harder, and the body finally budged. They dragged him to the stairs.

“Okay, Vani. Now grab his legs,” Sora said, pushing Vanitas aside and grabbing Riku’s arms.

“Wait, what?”

Sora let go of Riku. His arms hit the first step, and the silver-haired boy groaned. “We gotta take him upstairs. He’s not gonna wake up any time soon, and Kairi said we could crash in her room if we needed to.”

“Ugh, really…? Alright…”

He did as ordered, and they got Riku up the stairs and into bed. Not without dropping him a couple of times, though. The dickhead had it coming. Especially since Vanitas would now be forced to walk home at an ungodly hour of the night. He sure as hell wasn’t staying here. He would rather risk it and have Sora drive them home than stay anywhere near Kairi.

“Hey, Sora, I’m going out for a smoke. Then we’ll leave—His cousin’s snoring interrupted him. His eyes fell on the brunette on the floor next to the bed. “Great…” 

Vanitas sighed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned back, internally timing how long it would take him to walk home when the sound of heels snapped him out of his thoughts. 

Kairi stood a few feet away. “Oh, hey Vanitas, Have you seen—

“Sora and Riku? Both passed out in there,” he said, pushing off the door.

She crossed her arms. “So much for the ‘Seeker of Darkness’, huh?” She laughed. That giggling laugh she did when planning something. “How come you aren't fucked up?”

“Get shit-faced in your house? You’re kidding, right?”

Kairi rolled her eyes at him before approaching. “Oh, come on, Van. You liked it,” she said, pressing her chest against his.

Yeah, and now I fucking regret it.

"Still doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Yeah, well…tell that to your dick,” she said, rubbing her knee against his groin. 

Fuck.  

“I’m a guy. What the hell do you want me to do? Tuck it between my legs?”

“Put it to good use.” She kissed him full on the lips.

Vanitas' eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to dare. A part of him wanted to let her do whatever she wanted. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system or his hormones, but neither helped with the situation in his pants. He wouldn’t mind getting laid right now—in fact, he wanted to get laid, but…with Kairi? Seriously? With a frustrated growl, he pushed her away.

Kairi frowned. “What the hell, Van?! Come on, don’t be like that.”

He turned away from her with a scowl. “Don’t follow me. Personal space, remember?” 

“Vani, wait!”

Vanitas quickly made his way down the stairs and passed a couple of dancers, his patience wearing thin. He’d met his socialization quota for the day, and he really wanted to leave. Just get home and listen to his music, maybe mess around with his guitar a bit…

Taking out his lighter from his pocket, he walked out of the front door and to the sidewalk. He reached for his smokes as a familiar car pulled over on the opposite sidewalk. Squinting, he noticed a figure behind the wheel, looking lost and confused. Was that…Ms. Thorne? Yes, yes it was. He perked up immediately. The whole thing had been worth it after all.  

He crossed the street and leaned on the car, looking in. “Ms. Tho—Aqua?” 

She looked up from her phone and smiled. It made his night. “Vanitas? What are you doing here?” She asked, sounding puzzled. 

“Party,” he said, quickly hiding his lighter. “I kinda got roped into coming by my cousin and his friend.”

“Oh. Is this the same cousin you mentioned the other day?”

She remembered that. No way… He couldn’t remember what he had for lunch some days.

He sighed. “Yep…”

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” she said, resting her hand on the window and her head atop it. “Why? The girl you like didn’t show up?”

Vanitas chuckled and licked his lips. “She did. Sort of.”

Her smile widened. “So why didn’t you have fun, then?”

“Not really my type of thing, you know,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t like being dragged into things, either.”

“Mmm, that sure brings back memories…” Aqua said with a glint in her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. "You party a lot?” 

She hummed thoughtfully. Cute. “I was more focused on my studies and following the rules. I did get dragged to a lot of parties, though. Also did my fair share of crazy things as well…”

A car drove by them, faint light illuminating her face. There was a subtle blush on her cheeks. He wondered what she remembered so vividly.

Naughty Ms. Thorne.

Her phone buzzed, and her eyes immediately fell on its screen. She frowned.

“Something the matter?”

Aqua sighed. “Roxas texted me to pick him up earlier. I texted him that I’m here, but…”

“Give him a few. He’ll come out,” Vanitas said. “Maybe he’s dancing, or his phone fell out of his pocket or something…?” Or his hands are too busy to text back. “Hell, I’d be surprised if it hadn't, given the commotion in there…"

“What do you mean?” Aqua asked, giving him a look.

He crossed his arms. “You do know there’s a bunch of drunken teens in there, right?”

“What? What do you mean drunk?!” 

“Uh, yeah. It’s a party, there’s alcohol,” he said, pointing at a group of girls stumbling outside. A blonde girl fell on her ass. “See? drunk off their asses."

“That’s it.” She released her seatbelt and stepped out of the car immediately. “I’m getting him right now!"

Vanitas smirked. Please drag his ungrateful ass out. His smirk vanished when he noticed what she was wearing. Fuck. She definitely left her house in a hurry. And did she not have a bra?! Fuck no. She can’t go in there like that. Not with a bunch of horny drunk frat guys.

Without thinking, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, hey. I’ll get him for you.”

“But—

“I’ll be faster.”

Aqua folded her arms over her chest. Her expression turned serious. “Alright.”

He turned around and returned to the party, scanning for Roxas. It didn’t take him long to spot him reclining on a couch, completely asleep. Idiot. 

Vanitas jerked him awake. “Yo, get up man.”

“Fuck off,” Roxas muttered drunkenly. 

He pulled him by his shirt. “Knock it off, smartass. Your mom’s waiting outside.”

Roxas blinked twice. “The fuck I care? Why do you care?”

“Because my cousin gave you a ride to this stupid party, which means you don’t have a ride unless you go home with your mom right now.”

Roxas rolled his eyes at Vanitas but followed. Vanitas pushed him in front of him, and he almost tripped.

“The fuck, man?”

After several minutes, Vanitas got Roxas past the others and outside. They went to the car, and Aqua helped them.

“Tch,” Roxas brushed his mother off.

“Just get in the car,” Vanitas mumbled, pushing him into the back seat and closing the door.

Aqua sighed and turned to Vanitas. “Do you need a ride?”

Fuck, yes I do.

“Nah, it’s alright. Don’t wanna trouble you,” he said, acting disinterested. “But now that you mention it, my cousin and his friend are so shitfaced I don’t think either of them can drive, so...”

She smiled. “It’s no trouble at all. I insist.”

Well, don’t mind if I do.

A few minutes later and seat belts on, they were on their way. It was a quiet ride. Roxas had passed out in the back, and the only sound heard was a song on the radio. Seriously? Who even listens to the radio? She needs a sick playlist. Hell, he’d even put one together for her. But that wasn’t the point.

Aqua kept her gaze fixed on the road, her hands firmly on the steering wheel. As much as he liked the occasional bit of silence, he wanted her to say something. Vanitas stared out the window, eyes following streetlight after streetlight. Kairi’s house wasn’t too far from his own, yet it felt like it was taking a long ass time to get home.

“I just don’t get it," Aqua said suddenly. “Why would someone think getting wasted is fun?”

Finally!

Vanitas turned his head toward her. Cause you could get laid. “No idea. Ask my cousin.” He shrugged. “College life I suppose? They think it’s fun?”

Aqua frowned. “There’s healthier ways to have a good time.”

I bet you could show me a good time.

“Like what?” Vanitas asked, a smirk creeping on his lips.

“Well, there’s camping, going to the movies, ghost hunting—

He laughed. She couldn’t be serious. The movies? Sure, if it was something awesome like Across the Spider-Verse. But ghost hunting? Camping?

She shot him a puzzled look. “What?”

“You’re not serious, right? Ghost hunting?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” She asked, eyeing him briefly as they stopped at a traffic light. “It’s summer. That sort of thing is popular around this time. I remember years ago, spooky stories around a campfire, sneaking into an abandoned building and looking for ghosts…” A smile formed on her lips, and he didn’t know if she was blushing or if it was the glow of the red light.

The light turned green, and Aqua focused on the road, still smiling. “There was this one time around a bonfire at the beach…a bunch of us chilled by it after we went swimming. Terra hid in between the bushes, and…”

She stopped smiling and gripped the steering wheel harder. So bringing up the big guy was still a sore spot. Was he the one who cheated? Or was it her? Vanitas didn’t know, but his money was on Terra.

“Anyway, he scared a couple of us, and then we somehow were dared into trespassing on one of the old, abandoned buildings on the hill. There were rumors that it was haunted, and we wanted to see if it was true.”

“Oh, so you are serious about the ghost thing,” he said, amusement in his voice. She nodded. It was oddly cute that she believed in that stuff.

A ringtone chimed through the speakers, and the radio screen lit up. It read Terra. Vanitas was about to ask her if she wanted to answer. She signaled him to wait. On the third ring, she answered; the big guy’s voice boomed over the speaker, and she lowered it a bit.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

There was an awkward silence, and tension was palpable in that simple exchange.

“Sorry to call you at this time. I know it’s close to midnight, so I hope I didn’t just wake you…”

“No, it’s fine. I was just…doing something.” 

“Oh, okay. So…umm, you know about shared custody—I have a trip coming up, and guess what? Germany,” he paused. “I was just thinking how the twins have always wanted to go, so…”

So?

“I know it’s not my turn yet, but I want to take them with me. if that’s okay with you…”

“Sounds great,” she replied with a broad smile. Her eyes said otherwise.

“Umm, you could come if you want to…we wouldn’t mind.”

We? As in his side piece turned main 'we'? What the actual fuck?!

She pressed her lips together as if trying to keep the words in. “I would love that, but…I have to take care of some things,” she said, a hand playing with the star on her necklace. “Besides…I promised to babysit Tifa’s little bundle of joy.” She laughed weakly.

Terra laughed as well. “Busy woman as always. Take care then. I’ll text you later when everything’s booked for the twins, alright?”

“Okay.”

There was a long pause, and they both bid the other goodbye before the call finished. Vanitas felt awkward. He’d listened to a personal conversation that he probably shouldn’t have. Still, he wanted to say something about that bullshit. 

"Pretty ballsy of him to ask you to go, huh?" he asked.

Aqua flicked the signal light and turned around a corner. "I guess so..." 

"Ven mentioned you guys..."

"Yeah."

"But that really was a dick move."

She frowned. "Why? He's just being nice to me." She pulled into a driveway. Vanitas immediately recognized her house.

"Umm, you're kidding, right?" he asked, unbuckling his seatbelt. "He cheats on you, then—

Aqua gave him a heartbroken look. "That's the problem, Vanitas. No one cheated..."

Oh. But if no one cheated, then what…

His eyes widened as he realized.

Oh fuck.

[yandere--stuck]

Bad Blood - Yandere!Batman x Reader x Yandere!Joker

It wasn't just The Joker who had been watching you. And to a point, you were aware of that.

After all, that just came with the territory of being a minor celebrity within Gotham city. It wasn't often that those considered "famous" in Gotham didn't either have connections to the mafia or were locked up within Arkham or Blackgate. 

As a reporter, you were watched on the news, on the streets - occasionally approached by fans, at parties where you mingled with your peers or made connections. All rather normal, really.

But, there were times when you could just feel it in your bones. You were being watched.

Like in the dark of night, the moon following you on your walk home. Alone. When the light from street lamps bathed everything in orange. The streets empty, the occasional car zooming by. It was then that you had felt watched.

It was understandable, something innate in humans, to feel frightened of the dark and the paranoia of being alone. Our imaginations run wild, and we trick ourselves into thinking that there's something out there with us. Someone following our every move, hiding just out of sight. But, no matter how many times you swore you were being watched, nothing ever happened. No muggings, no stalkers, no threats. When you got back to your apartment, unlocking and then re-locking all six of the locks on your door, you were able to let out a sigh of relief - it was just your own paranoia getting the best of you. You weren't being followed. You could relax, knowing that it was all in your head.

But, it wasn't.

Your paranoia wasn't unfounded. The shiver of your spine at the feeling of being watched wasn't your mind tricking itself. But, of course, even when you'd turn around to try and spot someone, something, you hadn't been able to see him. He had hid in the shadows and crouched atop rooftops, keeping watch over you.

He had done so every night. The moment you left the studio, to when you started your walk, and then headed home. He even stuck around to peer through your window, making sure you were truly safe. It wasn't something any of the Robins or Oracle knew about - it wasn't something they had to know. Well… It's not like he exactly lied about what he was doing during the alotted time of your walk home. But, he also didnt want to admit it, either - not that he thought what he was doing was wrong, but… He just didn't want anyone to be worried. To get the wrong idea. And it rarely took time out of his nightly patrol, just fifteen minutes. It wasn't a big deal.

He was just protecting you. That was just his job. He was supposed to protect the people of Gotham. To protect you. He just had a… Fixation, that's all. And when Bruce gets fixated on something, it's like pulling teeth for him to keep away.

Bruce met you like he does with most reporters - at a charity event. He had seen your stories on the news a few times beforehand, and braced himself for the usual song and dance - Vicki Vale trying to score something on the record for something much juicier and personal than the cause he was donating to, or perhaps Jack Ryder trying to rile him up to get him to throw a fit for a story. He was pleasantly surprised, however, when you treated him like an actual person. Sure, it could be that you were off the clock - but really, when were reporters ever really off the clock?

Most people would bend over backwards to get themselves into Brice Wayne's good graces. But, you… You talked to him like he was no different than anyone else. Maybe a bit reserved, but you had only just met, after all. In spite of this, Bruce found himself able to relax, chatting with you about the party, about your days up to then, your different careers. Bruce felt like he could actually be himself. With you, he wasn't Batman, nor was he billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. He was just… Himself.

Him and you.

He decides to stick by your side most of the evening, you and him talking long into the night. About your lives, your worries, your hobbies, your interests. It had been so long since he talked about such personal things with someone, even Alfred. And you understand. You understand his worries of responsibility, the weight of the world among his shoulders, you understand the suffocation of isolation, you under his inability to move on from the trauma of his past, try as he might. You understand. Of course you do…

You acted as someone to vent to. A listening ear. You offered up advice, even if you might not have the right answers to his problem. Sure, you might not know the full extent of his stress, but it's the thought that counts. It's almost like this night was made for you and him. 

Something like, fate - that is, if Bruce had actually believed in something like that.

After that night, he found himself making a point to watch you on the news. The way you talked on the television is how you talked with him that night. Personable, comfortable, familiar. You might not be talking to him directly, but it warms his heart and staves off the icy chill of loneliness.

He went out of his way to find you during other important, publicized events. Most likely, you probably thought it was a coincidence that you kept finding yourself in his company. You most likely thought him as just an acquaintance, nothing more… But, oh, you meant so much to him.

And, oh, when you talked about Batman? Knowing that it was him you were talking about (even if you had no idea)... He'd be lying if it didn't make him a bit flustered. Your praises, the way you saw him as an inspiration, hoping after every mission that he was alright… And when you look into the camera and say to him, to Batman, through the screen, that you wish him a nice night and to be safe…?

God. He was smitten. And, really, that was his biggest mistake.

Feelings just made things complicated. He had learned that a long time ago. That everything he touched and loved was inevitably destroyed. It's why he works alone more often than not. He doesn't want someone getting hurt because of him ever again. Bruce has enemies, and Batman has even more. 

Even if he had tried to reach out to you as Bruce, as himself, who's to say you would have wanted to be with him? Why would someone like you want Bruce Wayne - someone who most of Gotham portrayed as an immature playboy who never got over the death of his parents. While the second part wasn't exactly wrong, the whole playboy thing was just a diversion. But, how in the hell was he supposed to explain that?

It was easier to just let you go. You'd be happier, and more importantly, safer without his presence in your life.

So, he satiated himself on watching you, protecting you from the shadows, and kept himself sane by rewatching footage of you he's stashed within your home and around your apartment building. If he adored you from afar, that wouldn't hurt anything, right?

… But now, he's wishing he had just taken the chance. He had been good, had left you alone.

And he watched as the helicopter you were in was shot down. Watched as the recording cut off. Heard as you screamed at the top of your lungs. He replayed what he had seen over and over in his mind, losing himself. Bruce had gone so tense in disbelief and grief and rage that by the time Alfred had brought him back to reality, his nails had dug into the armrest of his loveseat.

He had insisted to himself later that night that  investigating the scene of the crime wasn't fueled by personal connection or any feelings he may have. It was Batman's job. And if he ignores all the other bodies in favor of one that is presumed to be yours, it's just because he notices something different about it from the other's, that's all.

The body was decomposed far beyond that of the others, and had been exposed to the elements longer than the others. And to add onto that, the DNA sample Bruce had collected was matched with a body that had been gone missing from Gotham General.

Bruce's heart fluttered with hope and relief. You were alive, you had to be. But, just as quickly, realization crashed into him. If you were alive, it's only because Joker wanted you to be.

... What was he doing to you?

---

You stared down at the meal the Clown Prince of Crime had prepared for you - well, if you could call heating up a frozen dinner "preparing". It's not like you were exactly in a place to complain, though, considering the predicament you were stuck in.

Counting the time you had spent unconscious and Joker getting you situated and up to speed, it was most likely a few hours since the incident. You were feeling rather hungry… But, in spite of all of The Joker's lovey-dovey talk, you weren't quite sure if you could trust him to not serve you poisoned food. Even worse, however, was that you were still tied up - meaning the clown had to feed you, and you were even more unsure that he wouldn't kill you if you refused to eat.

In spite of the circumstances, and the dingy place you were trapped in, it wasn't exactly the worst. Hell, Joker had even lit up some candles for some mood lighting. Not exactly the worst "date", you had been on, sadly enough.

"Ready for some grub?" The Joker lurched into view, straightening his tie as he shot you a grin. "You must have worked up quite an appetite by now, considering all the excitement!"

You smiled in return, hoping it didn't look too strained as you nodded. You watched as he got his utensils ready, cutting up some of the food into smaller bites. You kept especially close attention on the hand holding a knife - though, it wasn't like you had any way to flee if he had decided to turn it on you.

The Joker stabbed at the food with a fork, setting down the knife, as he moved to raise your meal to your lips, while you attempted not to turn your head away. The fork approached closer and closer, and you tried to rid your mind of awful thoughts, like an eye being ripped out of its socket, implanted on the fork's tongues. But, then, The Joker suddenly stopped.

"Oh, silly me! I almost forgot," The Clown Prince set down the utensils, digging into the inside of his suit. With a flourish, he unveiled a bright, colorful, and clearly plastic flower, holding it out to you. "A present for you, m'dear! Go on, take a whiff."

You shook in your seat. Oh, God. You knew exactly where this was going. He had played you this whole time, like predators played with their food. He had made you think he had developed this obsession with you and managed to lull you into a false sense of security. And just when you were sure you were going to make it out of this situation alive, he planned to hit you with his trademark laughing gas and watch as you died.

You held back tears, shivering with fear and despair. And The Joker looked so happy, so encouraging. You were going to die. You had hit the end of the road.

You leaned forward, taking a breath through your nose-

And jumped, letting out a scream as the ceiling caved in, a dark figure crashing through. You whipped your head to face it- and winced as a small stream of water hit your cheek. Blinking once, twice, three times, you slowly turned to the clown and the trick flower in his hand.

Oh. So, it was just a regular trick flower. Not a deadly one. Okay. Okay, yeah. Sure. Great.

Groaning softly, your whole body went limp. You hung your head, shaking it slowly. Whatever. Whatever happened next, you didn't care. You were too exhausted.

"Aw, c'mon, Bats! Don'tcha know it's rude to upstage someone's act?" Joker asked. "Besides, you weren't invited to our little date night..."

...Batman?

From your periphery, you could see it. See him. 

Oh, thank God. Thank fucking God. You were saved! Batman was going to save you!

All the tiredness seemed to instantly fade as you were overwhelmed with adrenaline and relief. You were saved. You were saved. Batman was going to save you. Batman was going to protect you and make sure you were all right. You didn't have to worry or be scared anymore. Batman would do all of the worrying for you.

"You broke out of Arkham, killed innocent people, and kidnapped the sole survivor after almost killing them, as well," Batman seethed, his voice a growl. "You're going back to Arkham, and I'll be taking them with me, where they'll be safe."

"Hey! First off, the whole helicopter thing wasn't me, it was one of my boys. Well… To be fair, I had intended on killing them when we downed the thing, but eh, two birds with one stone, I suppose. I wouldn't even have been mad about it, if my darling reporter here hadn't almost been hurt in the crash," The Joker moved behind you, making you seize up as he grasped your shoulders, massaging them slightly. "And really, Bats, if this is some kind of jealousy thing, you could always just ask to share."

"You're insane." Batman spat.

"Babes, you really need to get some better material," The Clown tutted. "And I was being honest! I'm actually trying to communicate here," You were suddenly spun around, locking eyes with your hero. You shuddered as the Joker nuzzled you from behind, unable to stop your face from heating up. "What do you think, darling? How's about a three-way date with me and the big bad Bat?"

"I… I-I-" You stuttered, unable to get a coherent thought put as you burned with embarrassment.

Could anyone blame you for having a little  crush on Batman? You'd bet a good majority of Gothamites felt the same toward their dear Dark Knight. Hell, you'd even bet that some of the Rogues that the Caped Crusader went up against had feelings for him. It was pretty obvious the Joker did, at least.

And the Joker… He was a monster. A criminal. But, the time you've spent with him… Well, you could better understand how Dr. Quinnzel fell for the man. Despite your knowledge of the horrible crimes he committed, the way he treated you so kindly, it was hard to not get flustered, to not feel special. It was hard to ignore his humor, his affection for you, his pet names, his sweet gestures- no, no. This- this was ridiculous. You had to stop. You weren't thinking straight.

"Get your hands off of them!" The Bat spat.

"But I don't wanna!" Joker let out an exaggerated whine, before descending into giggles. Painted lips brushed against your neck. "Besides, I don't think they want me to…"

You felt hypersensitive, the brush of the Clown's lips drawing a whine from your throat.

Your eyes shot open wide as a pained scream ripped from Joker. You turned as best you could, watching the man stumble back, clutching his hand - a batarang sticking piercing through it, blood bubbling up from the wound and dripping to the floor.

The Joker hissed, bristling with rage. "Bats, why you-!"

In an instant, Batman shot put his batclaw, the claw digging into The Joker's suit, before retracting. The Joker stumbled as he rocketed forward, his face immediately colliding with Batman's fist. Before he could fall back, the Dark Knight caught him by the throat and squeezed. The Clown wheeled and coughed in shock at the closing of his windpipe and his desperation to breathe. The Bat slowly lifted another fist - and hit the other man so hard that even you winced. You watched as Joker fell onto his back with a low groan. The Batman stood above him, glowering and breathing heavily as he looked down on his nemesis.

"Batsy, babe… Ya know I love it when you play rough, but Jesus, warn a guy first, will ya?" The Joker laughed wearily, seemingly in a daze. 

Sneering, Batman grabbed his nemesis by his coat, tossing him aside onto his stomach. His foot came down to stomp onto his arm, making the other man whimper, and the Bat reached down to rip the batarang free from his hand, and in turn, ripping a scream from Joker's throat. Pulling out a pair of batcuffs, the Caped Crusader roughly restrained the man's arms, before lifting him to his feet.

"Careful with the merchandise…" The Joker grumbled.

With a second pair of cuffs, the Bat attached one of the cuffs to the Joker's ankle, the Clown laughing as he attempted to kick at the Bat to heed his progress, and then the other to a metal support pillar protruding from the floor.

And then, in the next instant, Batman was at your side, diligently working to free you from the shackles that bound you. As the restraints loosened, you took in a deep breath before letting out a shuddering sigh. You tried to stand, only for your legs to give out from under you - you had spent so long in that position that your legs had fallen asleep - but it was okay. Batman caught you. He caught you and he held you and pulled you into a hug. A gloved hand petted your hair soothingly.

"It's okay. You're safe, you're okay," The Bat rumbled. "I've got you."

This. This was what you loved most about The Batman. As much as he was revered for the fear he struck into the heart of evil, how he acted as a phantom in the night, fighting back against the criminals that roamed Gotham in the night… What you loved most was what came after. Your interviews with survivors of criminal attacks are what made you grow a fondness for the Dark Knight. How comforting they said he was. How he reassured them, made them feel safe. When he was there, they knew everything was okay. They knew they were safe. That everything was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

And you melted into his hold.

He continued to murmur reassurances as he began to massage your legs until the static feeling went away and you found the strength to stand - and even then, he let you lean against him as you walked out into the night together.

"You'll pay for this, Bats," The Joker spat, expression dark… Until he locked eyes with you, and his visage softened. "How about same time next week, love?"

Before you could think of responding, Batman pulled out of the building and far, far away from the madman within.

---

Bruce had to fight to keep his driving steady. His body was flooded with adrenaline and his heart rabitted a mile a minute. His entire being felt electric.

He had touched you, held you. And you held him back, reassured and calmed by him. It was everything he had dreamed of. You had leaned against for support and let him help you climb into the batmobile.

He had managed to track The Joker down to one of his usual hideouts that he and Harley stayed at - an old, abandoned amusement park that had been sold to him. Well, would have been sold to him, if he hadn't killed the owner of the property before they could seal the deal.

He kept sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. You, resting your head against the window, eyes shut as you tried to get some rest after everything you had been through. You could rest for as long as you liked. He was here now. Bruce would keep you safe.

Bruce took his usual shortcut into the batcave, driving into a cave opening just outside the manor, and you lifted your head, startled by the sudden turn and shift in light behind your eyes.

"Batman, where are we?"

Home.

You gasped as restraints wrapped over your ligaments, tying you down to the seat.

Bruce knew this was wrong. But, after such a long career as the Batman, he had learned that he often had to do the wrong thing in order to get the right outcome. He really wished there was any other way… But, you had a target on your head now. You'd be safe with him. He'd keep you deep within the batcave and visit you often. 

You sputtered, eyes wide with shock and disbelief and… Betrayal. Bruce hated the thought of you looking at him like that. He leaned over, softly pressing a kiss to your forehead. He felt you shiver under his touch.

He'd get you settled and comfortable. He'd reveal his true self to you at some point, but that was for later. You had been through enough for one night.

"You're safe now." Bruce lied promised. "I've got you."

[moonlit-jeno]

red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | demon au | slight dubcon??? the mans a lust demon idk | Very mild horror themes | minor mlm | don’t attempt this game pls !!!

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier. 

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?” 

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

[ijustwant2write]

Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @dailymarvelposts​)

Tags: @bloodorangemoonlight​ @amirahiddleston​

Requested by @husherstan​ : ‘could you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)’

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name   

(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)  

Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“For the last time, watch where you’re going Speedy Gonzales!” I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.

His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.“Maybe try keeping up next time.”

I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We weren’t here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate. 

Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadn’t put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.

“Enough!” Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.“Really (Y/N)? You can relax now.”

“I don’t trust him.” I replied.

She sighed.“Come on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.”

“Why? We debriefed three days ago.”

“Something to do with it being on the news.” she shrugged, walking away.

Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didn’t look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?

I wasn’t happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steve’s stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.

“Sorry to call you guys in on such short notice.” Steve started.“But I feel that we have to discuss something that’s starting to effect the team.”

He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.

“Fastest man alive,” Pietro repeated what the reporter said,“it has a nice ring to it.”

“I wouldn’t put that in your Tinder bio.” I quipped, causing a few chuckles.

Steve looked at me.“And this is why we’re here today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.“What?”

“You and Pietro are always at each other’s throats. It’s...well frankly, it’s exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.”

“He always starts it-”

Pietro held up a finger.“Hold on, you do too-”

“You’re just proving his point guys.” Natasha spoke over us.

“As I was saying,” Steve brought the attention back to him,“the media has also caught onto this. There’s multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, you’re both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because you’re so invested in being better than the other!”

Steve was really mad, and from everyone else’s faces, they thought the same thing.

“So until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.”

“What?!” we both exclaimed.

“And you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.”

“Why are we both being punished?” I demanded to know.

“Oh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!” Pietro snapped.

“Mrs Incredible is super stretchy, it’s the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!”

“See? You’re further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.” Steve raised his voice.“You’re both dismissed.”

“Well, what are the rest of you doing?” Pietro dared to ask.

“We are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.”

I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being ‘the fastest man alive’, but I was going to try. I didn’t need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasn’t going to get that.

“Leave me alone.” I warned Pietro as he followed me.

“I can’t believe this! They’ve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And to think, they’re going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, I’m a crucial part-”

“Pietro!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him. 

His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes. 

I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn’t understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didn’t even follow me. 

I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didn’t bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.

“H-hey.” I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway. 

Looking over my shoulder, I didn’t reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.

“Can you stop?” I blurted out.“Please?”

“Are you annoyed by everything I do?” he asked.

“Not...everything. I just...doesn’t matter, it’s not like you care anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m not falling for this Pietro.”

“Why are you saying my name?”

“What?”

“You never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.”

“And why does that matter?”

“It just feels, it feels serious.”

“I mean, we’ve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, it’s serious.”

“We’ve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).”

“We could be if we don’t get our act together.”

“It won’t go that far-”

“But it could! I can’t believe how calm you are about the whole thing.” I stood, distancing myself from him.“I’ve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he can’t put others before himself!”

I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietro’s face, it was already too late.

“I...I’m sorry (Y/N).” he never broke eye contact.“And before you say anything, I mean it.”

“Pietro, I-”

“I can see how much this job means to you.”

“It’s my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.”

“No, don’t be humble.” he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.“It’s almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m usually very good with the ladies.” he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasn’t time to joke.“But not around you apparently. It’s probably because you’re extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.”

“Pietro, I...um...”

“I was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all I can do is run really fast.”

“But, you’ve been on much more missions than I have. Doesn’t that say something?” I hung my head.

“Are you crazy? You’re not on those missions because they don’t need you.”

My head whipped up to see his smile drop.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too important.”

“I never thought I would say this, but Pietro, you’re an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didn’t even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.”

“It seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

Pietro held his hand out.“Truce?”

I smiled up at him as I shook it.“Truce.”

A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.“Let’s not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of ‘I told you so’.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“And another thing.”

I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasn’t as firm.“Yes?”

“Can we start calling each other by our actual names?”

“I mean, I assumed we would anyway.”

“Oh, good. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just like the way it sounds when you say my name.”

[tommyspeakycap]

again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

[sourholland]

Ooooh angst “what about us?” “there is no us, there never was.” with tom plssss! Really love ur work 🌸

Last Kiss || Tom Holland

Summary → After a fling you and Tom had started while filming a movie together, he tells you that you two can’t be together anymore. Once you get home, Tom let’s you know that he made a mistake.

AN → This was supposed to come out yesterday, I just got lazy and waited to edit it. I can’t tell if I like how this came out or hate it, either way, I hope you guys like this. Also in honor of the Fearless re-record!!

Pairing(s) → Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language, Suggestive, Alcohol Use

Prompt(s) → 38

Word Count → 1.9k

The ringing of your phone sounded through your apartment loudly, the sound of the rain pattering loudly against the windows out-looking New York City. You set down the remote, feet padding against the cold hardwood while you looked for your buzzing cellphone.

You didn’t bother glancing at the caller ID, picking it up bringing it to your ear all in one quick motion.

“Hello?” You said, pulling a wine glass down from the cabinet.

“Y/N?” Tom’s voice came through the phone.

Your heart dropped, a breath catching in your throat while you stood in your kitchen. He was across the country, wanting nothing to do with you. He repeated your name through the phone, asking if you were there.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answered, pouring more wine than you’d originally intended into the glass.

“Isn’t it like one in the morning in England?” You asked, listening to the muffles coming through the speaker.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s late here. I just couldn’t sleep, and I started to think of you. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called.”

You sat at one of the barstools, swirling the red contents of the glass around. You wanted to yell at him, or maybe you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You sat silently for a few moments, bare legs cold from the draft.

“Tom,” you started. “I just don’t get why we have to rehash the past, you know? I came back to New York, just like you told me I should. You’re working on whatever new movie, I’m doing the same. I don’t know—I just think we should leave whatever happened between us alone. You made it very clear that it was me that you didn’t want,” you mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.

He audibly sighed, the ruffling of sheets coming through the phone. He was probably in bed, if he wasn’t so far away you’d have asked him if this was a sad attempt at getting you to sleep with him.

“I was fucking stupid, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve said that a million times,” his voice was hoarse and tired.

“I’ve already forgiven you, Tom. I just can’t keep doing this—this thing with you.”

You both went quiet for a minute, the only sound being the noise from outside in the bustling streets of the city and the rain. You knew you should hang up, block his number and forget about anything you two ever had. You’d tried a few times, unable to bring yourself to doing it.

“What about us?” He asked lowly, a twinge of hurt in his tired voice.

“There is no us, Tom,” you replied. “I’m not even sure there ever was.”

He didn’t say anything, you wanted to let out the repressed cry and tell him you didn’t mean it. That you were sorry and that you thought about him more than you’d like to admit. Something in you knew if you didn’t do your best to cut it off, you two would continue down the same everlasting cycle.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.”

The line went silent for a moment, and then your home screen lit up. The call had been ended. You downed the remainder of your wine, ditching the cup and just going for the bottle. You thought about calling him back, about apologizing and booking a plane ticket like some lovesick teenager.

You opened Instagram and began scrolling through your feed of posts, liking and commenting occasionally. You weren’t anywhere near drunk, merely tipsy and heartbroken. Your finger lingered on the button to go live, wondering if you really wanted thousands of people to see you in this state.

You left the kitchen and instead propped your phone against the couch, taking a seat on the white rug of your living room. You wearily pressed the go live button, raising the bottle to your chapped lips once more. You are pathetic, you thought.

“Hey guys!” You smiled at the camera and outpouring of greetings in the comments. Within a few minutes you’d racked in a few thousand viewers. You grabbed the guitar sitting against your wall and strummed the cords lightly while it sat in your lap.

userone: you are so adorable

usertwo: can you please say hi?!!!??

userthree: it’s my birthday y/n!

“I’m sorry I haven’t been very active on social media, guys. It’s been super crazy traveling back and forth from London to New York and then having to leave again in a few weeks. And now I’m sitting on my living room floor with a bottle of wine,” you laughed. A few familiar people popped into the comments of the live, some you’ve worked with and some you’ve yet to meet in person.

florencepugh: y/n!!!

gracieabrams: might just bust out the wine just for u

“Florence, I can’t wait to see you soon!” You smiled, “Gracie, I swear it’s making everything like a hundred times better.”

userfour: i’m in love with her

userfive: y/n saving 2021???!!!

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be singing,” you flushed. You did sing, before getting into acting you’d post a lot on Instagram and TikTok. It’d always been more of a hobby, something you loved to do, but weren’t good enough to pursue.

“I’ve had a little too much to drink,” you added. “So don’t get upset if I’m a little pitchy, guys.”

usersix: if she’s pitchy i’m not sure what i am

userseven: sing taylor swift!!!

“Okay, okay!” You chuckled, scrolling through the hundreds of comments saying to play Taylor Swift. You’d only just been crying to like three of her albums a few hours before.

“How about the chorus—and maybe the bridge too, yeah, that’ll work,” you mumbled to yourself, fiddling with the strings. “Alright, guys, Last Kiss it is. I won’t bore you all with the whole thing, though. I could never do Taylor justice.”

“And I’ll go sit on the floor, wearing your clothes”

Getting involved with him was singlehandedly the most stupid decision you’ve ever made, you thought. Late nights in his flat after long nights on set, ordering in and just talking, you two would talk as if you’d known each other your whole lives. It was something about the way he’d let you wear his clothes, or the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear while you told him about whatever insignificant thing that had happened that day.

“All that I know,

I don’t know how to be something you miss”

The car ride to the airport was the worst, it was grey and cold outside. There was makeup running down your face, mascara covering your eyes generously. You’d wrapped filming a week earlier, unable to bring yourself to walk away from him.

You couldn’t tell the driver to turn you around, or could you? Tom had already made it clear that you were both in different places in your career. This wasn’t what he wanted. You weren’t what he wanted.

“I never thought we’d have our last kiss”

He had held you just a little tighter, you ran your fingers through his hair for just a second longer. The taste of each other lingering on the both of your lips. Like you knew it would be the last time he’d hold you without knowing.

His stupid smiled, the way he pulled away and ran his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. You were almost wrapped around his finger, absolutely sickened with desire and infatuation for him.

“I never imagined we’d end like this,

Your name, forever the name on my lips”

The day you’d left to come home to New York started with a huge argument between the two of you. He’d basically just told you that you’d both known from the beginning you wouldn’t last together. It wasn’t a matter of how much you cared for one another, but that it was impossible, as he put it.

His eyes glossed over and bloodshot, you a complete and utter mess. Slamming the door behind you as you left was one of the most painful things you’d ever endured. Even more painful, the fact that he never came after you.

“So I’ll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep”

“I can feel you staring at me, love,” he murmured against the pillow.

Your face heated, eyes averting to the stream of light through the sheerness of the curtains. He leaned into you a moment later, his lips soft on your own. He was warm, he was always so warm. You cupped the side of his face gently, pulling him in a bit harder.

“And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe”

You dropped your bags, stepping into your apartment after months of being away. It felt quieter than usual, desolate and empty from your being away. It was dark out, the illumination of the bright city lights from your windows.

You glanced down at your phone for a moment, not a missed call, not a text, not even a fucking notification. He’d simply told you to go home, nothing more nothing less.

“I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are,

Hope it’s nice where you are”

You’d texted Harrison a few times, regretting it almost immediately after. He was sweet, telling you that Tom would come around eventually and to just be patient. You’d relied on those kind words for some time, eventually deleting them all together.

After Tom’s first text, you’d realized he wasn’t coming around or regretting what he’d said to you. He was lonely, maybe even a bit desperate. For months you had been there to listen to him and hold him, and now you were gone.

You’d fed into it the first few times, sitting on the phone with him for hours at a time. Then you started to feel worse hearing his voice, silent sobs escaping as you’d listen to him ramble. Then your finger would linger over the decline button a little longer than usual when he’d call, until eventually you started to use it.

“And I hope the sun shines and it’s a beautiful day,

And something reminds you,

You wish you had stayed”

Once you started to go out with other guys, Tom’s ‘I miss you’ texts became more infrequent. Paparazzi would snap pictures, and the next morning they’d be plastered all over the internet.

There was no doubt he was seeing you going out with other people, watching article after article about who you were dating surface. Would he be jealous? No, you thought. Tom was probably doing the same thing as you. Hopeless hookups, meaningless blind dates.

“You can plan for a change in the weather and time”

One early morning, you found yourself in a sweatshirt you’d stolen from one of his drawers and forgotten to return. Listening to the morning rush of traffic and hugging yourself, noticing the lingering smell of his cologne.

You wondered if he knew you’d taken it, if he would think you were pathetic wearing it months after you two had broken things off. This only made you clutch yourself a little tighter, closing your eyes and trying to remember.

“But I never planned on you changing your mind”

[itsallyscorner]

Blindsided

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Summary: What happens after it’s announced that John Walker’s the new Captain America.

Warnings: none; a bit suggestive at the end? This is my first time writing for Sam so if it’s a bit meh, I’m sorry, I tried😭 Lots of dialogue!!

A/n: This is a bit of a short one, but I hope you like it:) I know this isn’t how he found out in TFAWS but ya know :D Also hate the character NOT the actor, don’t hate on Wyatt Russell😤

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“Look, here’s the thing, uh, I’m—I’m not Tony Stark. I’m not Dr. Banner. Okay? I don’t have the flashiest gadgets, I don’t have super strength. But what I do have—is guts.”

John Walker’s voice bounces off the walls of the cozy Louisiana apartment you and Sam shared. With the saved money you both had, you guys managed to purchase a decent apartment. Being two of the known remaining Avengers, your landlord was quite flexible with rent. Having the two of you in his building was like having built in security.

The apartment was just right for you and Sam. There was a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. You both didn’t need much. As long as you had each other, you were both satisfied. Besides, with Sam working with the Air Force on missions, you managed to get roped into following along—which meant you two weren’t always home.

The morning sun shined through the window of your living room, reflecting onto one of the white walls across from it. The sun created an orangey yellow hue to fill the room, radiating the warmth and cozy aura of a sunny Louisiana morning. Though compared to the domestic and calming aura, Sam was the complete opposite. You couldn’t see his facial expressions but the way his shoulders tensed from behind was enough to tell you that he was upset.

After a week (I’m honestly not sure) of donating Steve’s shield to the Smithsonian, it’s been revealed that the government has taken the shield and handed it to some—in your eyes—Steve Rogers wannabe. As someone who’s worked alongside Steve and consider him as family, it angered you to see some random man parade around the world with Steve’s shield and title. This Walker dude has no clue of the responsibility and value that comes with the shield—like seriously using halftime of a football game as an opportunity to pull a PR stunt as Captain America? He’s literally just America’s mascot.

Though you were bubbling with anger, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend felt. Steve gave him the shield, passed down the role of Captain America to him and sent him off to fulfill the duties he couldn’t do anymore. Yes, Sam made a promise, but after dabbling with the thought of becoming the new Captain America he decided to give it up. You weren’t going to question him, it was his choice and you understood why he made it. Nobody could fill Steve’s shoes.

You turn the stove off, deciding to check on Sam instead of continuing breakfast. The clip of John Walker was still playing on the tv when you enter the living room. You get a glimpse of his face, betrayal filled his eyes as he glowered at the tv screen. You carefully make your way towards him, settling beside him on the couch. He glances at you before shoving his head in his hand.

“Sam...” You wrap an arm around his back, your palm feeling the tension build between his shoulders.

“He trusted me with the shield.” He began, his voice low. “He trusted me with it and now it’s in the hands of—whoever this person is.” He gestures to the tv that showed John Walker speaking to a blonde interviewer.

“Steve believed in me to carry on his legacy and I just threw it away because I was being selfish.” He fumed, his tone raising. He shot off the couch and moved to pace around the living room. You sigh, giving him a moment to get his thoughts together. You patiently waited for him to calm down, watching him mutter sentences to himself under his breath.

Slowly, you get up from the couch and approach him. Deciding to stand in the way of his path, he comes to a halt. The conflicted expression on his face softens at the sight of you.

“Listen,” You start, arms snaking around his torso while his hands naturally grip onto your hips. “You didn’t know the government was going to go behind your back and deem someone else as Captain America. None of us were expecting this to happen. You can’t beat yourself up for something you didn’t have control of.”

Sam breathes out and tries to move out of your arms. Betrayal and guilt consumed his body.

“That’s the thing, (y/n). If I hadn’t given up the shield in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this situation right now. I had control of all of this, even if I didn’t know about their hidden agenda.” He bursted out, brows furrowing together in frustration. You tighten your arms around him.

Sam defeatedly lowers his head, “This whole thing is so much more than me being blindsided by the government. I promised Steve that I’ll do my best. He trusted me and in return I broke my promise to him. I let Steve down.” He confessed. Silence filled the room, the only sounds heard were the quiet murmurs coming from the tv.

You were the first to speak. “Steve made mistakes too you know? Besides being a super soldier and all, it’s what made him relatable to everyone. Before he became Captain America, he was just like us. Humans who wanted to do good for the world and bring peace to its chaos.” Your words caught Sam’s attention, although he was a bit confused to where you were going with them.

You continued, “Like almost every human in the world, he learned from those mistakes. Yes, you may have had control of the current situation we’re in, but that doesn’t contradict the fact that you had no knowledge of what was happening behind the scenes. Steve chose to give you the shield for a reason, Sam. He knew that if something were to go wrong, you would be there in an instant to make it right.”

You shifted closer to him and cradled his jaw with both of your hands. “You gave up the shield and now it’s in the hands of the wrong man. I know you’ve always said that it feels like it belongs to someone else. But would you rather it be in the hands of someone like John Walker or in the hands of someone Steve believes in? Are you gonna sit here and feel guilty about it or are you going to get up and make things right?”

Sam’s eyes bore into yours. Conflict flashes in his dark orbs, his jaw clenches, and his hands resting on your hips gripped onto your skin tightly.

“We’re gonna get his shield back.” He proclaimed.

A small smile forms on your lips, “One way or another.” You confirm.

Bonus:

“You know, you’re getting good at that whole speech thing.” Sam remarks, pulling you closer to him. That infamous toothy grin of his taking over his features.

You chuckle letting your hands venture on the expanse of his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well I learned from the best. If there’s one thing I learned from Steve it’d have to be his way with words.” You shrugged. Sam hummed in response.

“If I’m gonna be getting that shield back, I’m gonna be needing some help on those speeches.” He says, a suggestive tone to his sentence.

You smirked, amusingly shaking your head at him. “Good think I know plenty of ways to get you to talk.” Sam takes that as his cue to connect his lips with yours. His eager hands wander your body as he leads you towards the couch.

Before things can escalate, you pull away and place a finger in between your and Sam’s lips.

“Not now hotshot, we’ve got a mission in a bit and we still need to stop by Sarah’s before we leave.” Sam doesn’t get the chance to object since you’ve already pushed him off of you. Your hips swayed as you made your way back into the kitchen to continue cooking breakfast.

He stutters at first but chases after you going on about how much of a tease you were and how unfair it was to him and his needs.

“I told you I had plenty of ways to get you to talk.” You smirk, innocently shrugging at him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs, “The hypothetical

I decided to go back to and play around with my older style of writing today. Taking a bi of a break from the main plot line for a little bit :) 

As a doctor, I often wonder about hypotheticals. What would happen if my patient was injured in this way, what would I do. Working with humans I find each scenario has to be more outlandish than the next assuming the human is going to do something stupid.

However, in all my time with humans there is one hypothetical that I find most interesting: what would happen if early human/nonhuman communication never happened, and like animals in documentaries, or at zoos we learned about the humans purely through observation.

Humor me for a moment as I write this as I think it could be an interesting thought-experiment for the scientific community. 

I imagine we would see them as a series of logs made by the zookeeper as the humans were captured and placed into their enclosures, not knowing that the humans were sentient.

I see it going something like this.

Day 1 - we encountered the strange creature on a distant planet. We have never seen anything like them before. They tall, though that is only by way of the walking bipedally. Their arms are very long, and their eyes face forward. We were forced to capture them through tranquilization as they were uncooperative. We have a group of them, about six that we released into the enclosure. They are very agitated, and we must do what we can to calm them or otherwise worry about causing them significant stress. I can see them now lying on the ground resting their heads, they do not look well from the drugs, but we hope that the side effects will not last long.

Day 2 - We have yet to determine the genders of the creatures or even if they have any. It is difficult to tell, though there are subtle anatomical differences that we assume might have some bearing on the subject. Luckily for us they ate within the first day, and continue to eat well. As far as we understand their diets, these creatures can eat a large range of food, more than any animal or alien we have ever seen, and this including meat, plants, and plant byproducts.

Day - 4 They have a very large range of vocalizations, in a very complex structure that almost seems as if they are speaking to one another. They grunt hiss click hum, and so much more. As far as we can tell, they seem very social and tend to congregate in a small circle to commune with each other. When they sleep, they tend to sleep in a large group, or within the same general vicinity of each other. It sees they have a strong pack mentality.

Day- 3 we were forced to move them to a new enclosure as, last night one of the zookeepers ran across the creatures scaling the wall of their enclosure using the digits on their hands and feet to hold to the rough surface and pull themselves upward. I and the other scientists are a bit put out as we should have known this based on the anatomy of their flexible toes, and the sockets of their shoulders. These creatures are very good at climbing. For this reason the new enclosure is much larger, it has a pool of water and many tall branches to climb though there is a field around it to keep the creatures form climbing out.

Day 4 - The pool was a good idea as the creatures seem to enjoy submerging themselves in water. We know now that their strangely colored skin is not actually skin but some kind of artificial covering. They take off this artificial skin if they enter the water and put it back on after they leave. We also know the difference between the males and the females now as the males have more defined muscular structures and the females are more rounded with softer angles. As far as we can determine there is no behavioral difference between the two species.

Day 5 - We think they know they are being watched, as they have a habit of obscuring themselves in the furthest end of the enclosure where it is difficult for them to be seen. They have even taken some of the fallen branches and erected a bit of a screen to hide away prying eyes, or at least that is how it seems. Some of our experts assume it was actually in order to build a proper nest though we cannot be entirely sure about that.  

Day 30 - We are worried about one of the females. Her body structure has begun to change over these past few weeks, and her belly is becoming distended. We are worried about some sort of blockage or bloating caused by the misuse of food. The other creatures seem to be worried about her as well. We  might go in and tranquilize her and bring her out to examine her at some point tomorrow.

Day 31 - we had to sedate every creature in the enclosure in order to pull the female out and separate er form her pack. We tried to separate her naturally from them, pulling her to one side of the enclosure, but it seemed as if they knew what we were doing and the other large males and the one aggressive female would not allow her to go. We had to dart all five of the others to capture her, though when we pulled her out we were delighted to find the reason for her distended belly has nothing to do with the food. It seems as if we had inadvertently picked up a pregnant alien creature., which is likely why the others were so protective over her. We worry though because upon examining the internal structures we are concerned that the head of the offspring will not be large enough to fit through the pelvis. We are not sure if this is what the natural progression of their child bearing is supposed to look  like.

Day - 50 we have been doing some tests on our  creatures and have found a few interesting things. Their senses are far superior to our own.  We once thought that their eyes would be adapted to hunting and racking movement, and while that is true in low light situations, they actually have very sharp sense of binocular vision, and are very competent at guessing distances. They seem to be a primary visual creature, and we assume that their vision is even better than ours. There is some evidence that they can even see somewhat in the dark, though based on our examination of their behavior they are primarily a daytime animal.

Day - 61 We think that they can hear us talking outside the enclosure. In fact, we think they have a very sensitive set of hearing organs. They often behave in ways that make us think they might be able to hear us. They always seem to know when we are coming into the enclosure to feed them. They tend to stand very close and watch us very carefully. We are worried that they might attack, but so far they have not. The most disconcerting is the large male and the smaller female. The way they watch some of our handlers unnerves them, and I am going to have to hire new hands to help with this project 

Day 70 - They can use tools! It is an exciting and amazing discovery. But just the other day we say them begin to make things using strips of their own not-skin and some branches. They have tied rocks together and are even using them to smash up bits of food. Their hands seem very capable of doing such things as they are actually quite  delicate in their movements. Each diget can be controlled to the finest degree and the rotational movement of their wrist implies  extreme dexterity. Many of us think that this leaves them on a path towards sentience. Our scientists estimate that they have the intellectual capabilities of a five-year-old child.

Day 90 - great progress has been made! The creatures extreme vocalizations has added to their advantage, in that we have taught them how to speak! The sentences are very rudimentary of course, like a child, but they can ask for food, help, and express their displeasure. However, the problem is, they seem to have discovered greater words of displeasure from the people observing them and have taken to yelling rude slurs at the attraction goers. We think they like getting a reaction. They are very aggressive, and are becoming more so as the days go by. We worry about their health.

Day 100 - two of the large males got into a fight yesterday. We assume it was over mating rites with the remaining female, though that is only a theory. The way the creatures fight is very strange, they ball their hands into fists and then hit each other like using a club. Sometimes they use the hard bony ends of their elbows, or the tips of their knees. A few times they even used their legs to strike at the other. The feat of balance was quite amazing and the power generated from blows like that was scary. Visitors were urged away from the enclosure when wounds started appearing. Both males were covered in blood. We had gone to sedate them but by the time we came back the fight was over and the two males were sitting with each other at the edge of the pool washing their wounds. We think they find the water soothing, though we worry about sickness or infection.

Day 140 - We cannot get to them, overnight and out of sight of our keepers they have constructed a sort of den or nest surrounded by thick leaves and tree bark. There is no way to see in, and there is no way to dart one of these creatures while on the inside. We have been   to get them while they are out in the open, but they always hear when the enclosure or the windows open and have taken to carrying around large shields made of leaves and branches. None of our darts have made it through sticking uselessly into branches. We worry greatly considering the female is coming closer and closer to her delivery day.

Day 170 - We have a plan for sedation, though it will require an enforcement team armed with the tranquilizer guns to preform it. We are worried about the female and the offspring, which we intend to rear by hand. We have no idea how the other larger humans are going to react when the smaller human is brought into the enclosure. They could kill it. We do not want this happening, and besides, we think this creature could be very docile if hand raised by us. 

Day 181 - The mother went into labor last night, and we were called in by one of the zookeepers. We have to act very fast  and are assembling a team. We are worried she might die as the sounds coming from the enclosure has caused us to close down the entire zoo. She seems to be in great pain as we have never heard a creature make that sound before. All of the creatures seem agitated as well, those who are not in the enclosure with them are pacing around outside. They seem very nervous.

The team has been assembled and it has been quiet for some minute except for a distant squalling. The large ales and other creatures are encircling the little habitat as if curious. We are worried the large males will find this as a sign ofweakness and attack.

Day 182 -  please help us. We went into the enclosure as we had assumed with hour weapons ready to take the little offspring away to safer area for cleaning, however as soon as we got close to the den, the creatures attacked. We did not see them camouflaged in the leaves, and they seemed to erupt out of nowhere. Our leader was violently bludgeoned with a rock, and another was strangled manually by the small female. Each one of them was violently killed.

Two of our team managed to make it to the door of the den but as they did, the still blood covered female leaped outward and attacked screaming. She was the most violent out of all of them and practically ripped the limbs off two of our men before killing them. Protecting her young.

The large male carried the sleeping creature fin his arms as the female searched around for any more survivors. There were none and the door had been left open. One of our valiant men tried to go and close it, but he was murdered   as the door was flung open crushing him against the back wall. The child was handed back to the mother and now they are hunting about the zoo in a pack. I have locked myself in this  room hoping they will not find me, but even now I can hear a rattling outside the door.

Day of freedom - Hello you slimy bastards. Didn’t think you could talk did you. Either way you better hope we get back to our home planet, otherwise we will take this one for ourselves and make you suffer till your bones bleach dry under and unforgiving sun.

A little bit melodramatic there at the end I know, but I have spent far to long with humans, and I understand that they would probably be just as dramatic as I am making it sound. Also, I just realized that I technically just wrote some fiction, which means the humans are definitely rubbing off on me

[asupernaturalgirl]

I’ll Always Be Here to Help You

Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

Request:  If you don’t mind, I wanna request maybe something like sam and the reader previously being lovers in the past but they separate and she becomes a lab rat for hydra or something like that, and he saves her and what not. Very cliche yet cute in my opinion. 🙂🙂❤️   @jeonsblackgf-writes

A/N: Hey, All! I have to admit, this one made me a bit nervous. This is my first Marvel One shot and I wanted it to be so good so I hope you all like it. Also, this is written in 3rd person, which is new for me in one shots so I hope you don’t mind.  

Warnings: torture, breakups, hydra stuff

H/C: Hair Color, S/C: Skin Color

There’s a moment when you’re watching something about to happen, something terrible, where you so badly want to turn your head, to avert your gaze, but something is still fixing it onto whatever is happening. Car crashes, accidents, injuries. You would never purposefully enjoy watching something so terrible, but your brain doesn’t make the connection between something about to happen and needing to shield yourself from it. 

That was exactly how Sam Wilson felt as he watched the screen in front of him. He wanted so badly to turn, to leave the room. Steve had even approached him to try to get him to leave, but some sick part of his brain wasn’t allowing him to even step a foot away. He watched as the sick criminals injected something into her skin. Her skin. It was so grey, so much paler than her normal (S/C) tone. Bruises and bloody injuries lined nearly every part of her body. 

Her (H/C) hair, which he had loved so much, was matted and dirty. It was so unlike you, so rare for you to be so weak, so hurt, that he almost didn’t recognize you at first. It was her screams of pain, her desperate pleading that brought him back to reality and allowed it to actually sink into his brain. Hydra was using her as a lab rat. They had no plans to actually turn her into anything, they were just testing all of their materials on her. 

He hadn’t seen her in so long. If he had known she was in danger, if he had known that this would have happened, he would have done anything to make sure she was safe. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam sat down at the park bench, holding her hands tightly as he tried to explain the very thing he was dreading explaining to her. It was worse than he imagined. “I can’t force you to wait for me when I’m off god knows where, fighting in the Air Force.”

She turned her head. Sam Wilson, the man who meant everything to her, the man who she’d been with since she was in 10th grade, was breaking up with her to go into the military. He didn’t want her to have to forsake her health and life so that he could live his own. “Sam, I don’t care about where you’re going. I’ll go with you. There’s nothing keeping me here anymore.” 

He shook his head. People walking by looked over as the two of them spoke. Tears poured out of her eyes. She was still trying to keep from sobbing out loud, although she wasn’t sure how much longer that would actually last. 

“You need to live your own life,” He was strong with his statement. As a rescuer, his job would be dangerous and take up a considerable amount of time. “Even if you came with me, I wouldn’t be around much. I can’t drag you to some unknown location and then force you to stay there without any friends and family. This is for the best.”

Y/N didn’t want to even look at him. She turned your head slightly and crossed her arms. She felt like a child who wasn’t getting what they wanted. Sam meant everything to her and it hurt her that he was leaving without even giving her an option in the matter. 

“I love ya, sweetheart,” He ran his hand along her back, trying to comfort her. He hated when she cried and it hurt him even more that he was the one causing those tears. “I’ll come back and visit you when I get the chance.”

That had been the last time he spoke to Y/N. The last time he spoke to her before she was captured, he left her on a bench. The guilt began to spread in his chest at the thought. She must have been so terrified, so lost when Hydra captured her, and he wasn’t there to help. “We need to get her.”

Steve nodded his head. “Where do you know her from?”

Sam watched as she withered in the chair they had her strapped in, screaming for help. His chest constricted at the idea of Y/N in so much pain, the idea of someone hurting you like that. She had absolutely no business being there. “Her and I dated when we were in high school and a little bit before I joined the military. I broke up with her.” 

Steve’s face dropped. He had no idea that she had been so close to Sam. He knew that his friend must have been devastated. Moving forward, Cap placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We’re gonna get her, Sam. I promise you.”

…

Sam was flying over the base, trying to find some weak point to enter through. It was easy to find the location. Because they had received the video via hacking, all they needed to do was look at the location codes. Rumors had been circulating about a Hydra base closeby, so once they had a general spot to look in, they found it rather quickly. 

“Sam, the third window to the left in the back looks unguarded,” Clint said through the earpiece. “Goes into a small closet. We did a quick X-Ray check and it seems there’s no one guarding that either.” 

“I’m goin’ in,” He said quickly, rerouting his position towards the back of the large base. He was surprised no one had found them yet. They were able to get into the base rather easily, which sent shivers up his spine. It was never this easy. 

Apparently, it was right to be worried. As soon as he broke through the window and closed his wings to begin walking through, three men immediately charged him. He dodged them quickly, throwing one into the wall as he kicked another in the face, knocking him out. The last charged forward with a knife held in hand, but he quickly grabbed the man’s arm, bending it backwards. The sound of a bone snapping echoed through the small closet and he screamed out slightly in pain. Sam quickly pushed him into a cabinet while his defenses were down and slipped out before he tried anything else. 

He walked carefully through the hallways, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than he already did. He hoped that the three men were the only defenses they put up against him, but he seriously doubted that. 

The one thing that kept him going was thinking about Y/N. She deserved none of this and he would make sure she was safe before anything else. He pressed on the small bud in his ear. “I’m in. You see anything else?” 

“There’s a couple of guys fighting down here,” It was Natasha this time. “Steve and Clint are trying to hold them off while you’re down there. Try to get to her quickly.” 

“Well, it’d be a whole lot easier if I could see a damn thing down here,” He turned the corner, but could only see about 3 foot in front of him. The combination of dark walls and a lack of windows made it quite dark. “You’d think an organization that has been around for this long would have enough money to turn on some lights every once in a while.” 

“Ha Ha, Wilson,” Natasha said sarcastically. “Just find Y/N and get the hell out of there.” 

He went into overdrive mode. Occasionally, someone would pass by, almost completely oblivious to the fact that they had an enemy raiding the base at the moment. They were unprepared and by the time they realized they had to fight, Sam already had them on the ground. 

One room in particular stuck out to him. There was a breaker box right outside the door for electricity. This meant they likely needed quick access to the controls here. He was wary, unsure of what he may find inside. He prayed that if she was there, no one else would be. He needed to get her and leave as quickly as possible. 

He opened the door quickly, ready for a large fight. There she was. Y/N. She was sweating, but shivering at the same time. Her eyes were huge as she turned towards the door, caught off guard by the loud sound. He would never forget the expression of relief that crossed her face as soon as she saw him. 

There was a man frantically trying to undo her restraints, likely trying to evacuate her before Sam could get to her. He quickly rushed forward, tackling the man to the ground. He grabbed the man’s head, hitting it against the concrete floor until he was seemingly unconscious. Sam pried the key from the man’s hand and rushed to unlock them. 

“Sam, what are you...what are you doing here?” Y/N questioned. She was shocked. She had prayed that someone would help her, that someone would save her from the absolute misery she was experiencing. The person she expected was definitely not her ex boyfriend. 

“Found a video of you being used as a lab rat,” He started, moving to her legs now that her arms were free. “There was no way I was going to let you stay here. Can you walk?”

“I-I don’t think so,” She looked down at her hands. “I’ve been here for a few weeks so my legs are so weak.”

It hurt Sam almost physically that they hadn’t even let you out of the chair. As soon as you were completely unshackled, he leaned down and lifted you into his arms, quickly carrying you throughout the facility. 

This time, there was seemingly no one left to fight. He went through the same way that he came in, making sure he didn’t take a bad turn. Taking the wrong turn here could be the difference between life and death. Steve was waiting in the same closet he’d broken into, his eyes surprised as soon as he saw Sam come through the door with the girl in his arms. 

Steve helped Sam out and sprinted with them as they made their way back to the jet. He could feel his arms beginning to grow heavy but he knew he couldn’t let you go. You wouldn’t be able to walk by yourself. Your muscles were likely atrophied at this point. 

As soon as the team got the go ahead, they were taking off. A doctor had rushed forward to help Y/N, taking care of the most dramatic injuries first. He cleaned off a few deep wounds. “These likely needed stitches when they happened but they’re too old now. Stitching them would just cause the infection to be trapped inside.”

Sam watched as they worked, making sure that she wasn’t afraid. He felt the need to use comic relief, as he normally did, but refrained. It would likely be in bad taste at the current moment. After a few hours of poking and prodding, there was a few minutes where Y/N could just soak everything in. She had been rescued, saved from the most terrible people by Sam, her old love. 

Sam sat quietly on a chair next to the small gurney. He looked down at his hands but kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t need anything. “Thank you, Sam.”

He looked up, surprised by her words. Why would she ever think she needed to be thankful for him for this? He got her out of a situation that he wouldn’t have wished on anyone. “You could have just called me if you wanted my attention. You didn’t have to do all this.”

A grin crossed Y/N’s face. He was the same old Sam. Even though he was a superhero and looked quite different physically than he had before, he still had the same personality. “Yeah, I might have to think about that differently next time.”

Sam slowly walked towards you and grabbed your frail hands in his large ones, giving you a comforting squeeze. His eyes were sincere as he looked down at you. “I meant what I said when I saw you last, Y/N. I love you. Even though we haven’t seen each other in years, I’ll always be here to help you.” 

[biotic-boshtet]

“I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.” for Norah Jean and Kaidan

cogratatualtions you get an argument! and Garrus being awkward bc he enabled Norah Jean's recklessness!

“I know what you’re thinking, and no. You’re not doing it.”

“Kaidan, you have no clue what I’m thinking.”

“Bullshit, Sugar, you’re thinking of charging over and digging me out of this corner before that Brute notices me.”

“Huh, no, I actually was thinking about how much this hole in my arm fucking hurts. But now that you mention it, that is a great idea.” Norah Jean isn’t so sure the sarcasm comes across through her grit teeth.

“Don’t you dare. I can get myself out of this and you are going to sit tight and stay down till I can get there to help you.”

She gets quiet as she listens to the gunfire, watching her HUD as enemy signatures slowly close in on Kaidan’s position. Her biotics respond involuntarily to her rising stress levels, flaring up and settling down with the breathing she’s forcing steady. The hardsuit’s medical suite’s already done all it could without medigel, which really isn’t all that much. Applied pressure and tried to dose her with painkillers. Immobilized the entire arm. An error message flashes on her screen, “AUTOMATIC INJECTION SYSTEM ERROR”. She got half a dose. Maybe. Great good all of it does her when the medic is pinned down across the field.

“Norah Jean, I can see you glowing from up here, you’re not planning something stupid, are you? I did hear Kaidan to tell you to stay put, and correct me if I’m wrong, but he does outrank you now, right?” Garrus’s voice crackles over their private channel.

“Y’know, I wasn’t planning anything, but Kaidan gave me a lovely idea, though now my window is gone. Not sure how long my suit can keep me from bleeding. Painkillers are kicking in, kind of. I think the biotics are kicking into meltdown mode.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of something really stupid.” She watches a handful of husks fall to Garrus’s rifle, then focuses on Kaidan’s hiding spot and the cluster of mutants around it. Her shields were nearly recharged. Kaidan fells a husk and ducks back into cover. The Brute swings its head towards the sound of Kaidan’s pistol and takes a single step.

“If you tell me, I might be able to help, I promise I won’t tell on you. You know, unless it’ll definitely kill you. Then I’ll tell Kaidan.”

“I might, uh, I think I’m gonna charge the Brute. If it gets Kaidan I’m as good as gone, its still too hot for Steve to get in here. But if I distract it before it charges at him? Maybe even catch it off guard and get a few good hits in? You can cover my back while I deal with it.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Norah Jean can imagine perfectly the face he’s making, mandibles slightly flared, eyes squinted, doing mental math. Ruthless calculus. “It might just work.”

“He’s almost out of ammo, and he’s exhausted. After he’s out he won’t be able to keep up the biotics for long. Kaidan’s a sitting duck. I’m doing it.” The brute scratches a foot on the dirt, snorting. She overrides the medical stabilization lock on her right arm joints.

She flicks over the squad channel.

“Bombs away, boys.”

Norah Jean charges before Kaidan can ask what she means.

Time slows down. A husk in her path falls before she can touch it. The Brute gallops towards her and her heart pounds in her ears. Her arm throbs. She isn’t even fully out of the charge before she’s overloading her barrier as she’s slamming into the creature. Her helmet goes dark in an effort to protect her eyes from the resulting flash, and her shield generator is screaming warnings at her. But her shotgun is in her hands and the Brute is still on the ground. The kickback is worse than usual, but she usually doesn’t get shot either. The Brute doesn’t get back up.

She charges one more time, slamming herself into the Marauder that made its way behind Kaidan’s cover. It goes down with a well-aimed shotgun blast before Kaidan can even blink.

“Norah Jean, I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.”

She opens her mouth to respond, then sways on her feet. The shotgun hits the dust. Kaidan reacts.

Norah Jean blinks and she’s sitting with her back against the rocky outcropping, Kaidan tinkering with a panel on her suit. His kit is open on the ground beside them. She hears a snick and within seconds she has of a full dose of pain meds. She could cry with relief.

“Heyyy, Honey.” Her voice cracks as she leans her head back against the rock looking at Kaidan.

Kaidan glances up at her, then back down at the portion of plating he’s working to remove. “What the hell, were you thinking, Norah Jean? I had it covered.” He gets the plate off. “Steve’s on the way, ETA is about 5 minutes.”

“Couldn’t let you get killed.”

“Right, so you nearly kill yourself instead, thanks.” The medigel is cool and tingly when Kaidan applies it. “Do you even know how hard you hit that thing?”

“Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I could tell. Your suit clocked the impact at almost 1000 newtons. Then a third of your systems did a hard reset, and a handful of others just fried when you burned your barrier. Shields barely held through the blast, then failed the second you hit the Marauder. You’re lucky you already had your gun out, or we’d also be dealing with a point-blank gunshot wound.”

Norah Jean didn’t even try to defend herself; he was right. The stunt she’d pulled was stupid and reckless on a normal day, but she’d do it again, countless times, for Kaidan.

“And I’ve taken away your joint lock override privileges until further notice.”

“That’s fair.”

Garrus finally joins them, sauntering over as he collapses his rifle and slings it onto his back.

“Did you know she was going to do that, Garrus?”

“I didn’t not know that she wasn’t not going to do it?” His mandibles twitch nervously.

Kaidan stares at him.

“I plead the fifth.” The turian looks around Kaidan to Norah Jean, stage whispering, “Did I use that one right?”

She winks and gives him a shaky thumbs up.

“Unbelievable.”

[moonofthenight]

Everything must come to an end

Umm okay, so here is the fic posted the moodboard to a few days ago. This is two thousand words of pure angst, like really really angsty so if you decide to read it, please be aware of that. Also, I kind of want to leave it like it is, I don’t really want to write a part two to it.

Oh and this is probably not the most realistic scenario but I loved to explore it anyways.

*

I’m sorry @lumosinlove but thank you for letting me use your amazing characters

*

CW for mentions of food, lots of crying, bad mental health for some time and a general very sad atmosphere

A happy ending is never a promise, it’s a wish and ever since Leo was little, he wished for it more than anything.

The rain softly pattered against the window, waking the blonde one up, who let out a content sigh. Contrary to popular believe, Leo loved rainy days. There was nothing better than waking up in the warmth of the bed with his boys next to him, holding them safely in his arms. He already could imagine today, Finn sitting on the couch with his glasses and the nose in a book, Logan cuddling Finn to oblivion, while he made them something to eat. But if he only knew…

He felt Finn’s hand moving in his, a sign that he was waking up too. Leo pushed himself up with one arm, careful not to wake Logan up, reaching over to brush Finn’s hair from his forehead.

“Good morning sweetheart.”

“Mhh good morning Le.”

Finn stretched his back, his head sleepily falling down onto the pillow, making Leo chuckle.

“Wake Lo up, would you love? I will go down and make some breakfast for us.”, Leo said while getting up.

Finn nodded in response, blowing Leo a kiss, to which he leaned down and planted a real kiss on his lips in return. Finn made a soft sound, his hand finding the back of Leo’s head, pulling him closer. They parted eventually and Leo gave Finn a last kiss on the cheek before he made his way into the kitchen.

He started to prepare the bowls, humming softly while he mixed everything together. Leo flinched at the loud ringtone of his phone. It laid on the kitchen counter, exactly where he left it last night after their weekly date night.

Coach is calling…

“Good morning coach, what’s up?”

“Leo…”

His heart dropped at the tone of Arthur’s voice.

“Leo, I am so sorry but you have been traded. Come over soon so we can talk about the paperwork please.”

Leo didn’t remember what he said, he ended the call and starred at the phone in his hands. He felt… numb, as if he was stuck in one of those horrid dreams where you keep running and running and running but you never reach any end. He managed to put the phone back down but when he looked up, all he could do was to stare blankly at the wall. He didn’t cry, it still felt too surreal.

Leo could faintly discern Logan and Finn moving towards the kitchen, their laughter echoing from the walls right into his heart. The happy sound stopped the moment the two entered the kitchen, seeing Leo standing there. Both of them knew something was wrong.

“I got traded.”

It was simple as that and now it was finally sinking in. He got traded, he got-

“No please tell me this is some sick joke", a bitter laugh escaped Logan’s mouth, both him and Finn stopping dead in their tracks.

“It’s not”, his voice broke and he looked towards them, the tears already running down his face.

Logan immediately started sobbing, his eyes filled with fear and helplessness. At the same time, Finn moved to pull Leo into a hug, his wet cheek pressing against Leo’s collarbone. All of them were crying by now, it was an ugly picture but so was the situation.  

“This doesn’t make any sense. You haven’t even been playing long with us”, Finn muttered against Leo’s skin.

“We can’t let them take you away from us. What are we without you by our side?”

“We can do it. We have to”, Logan said through his tears, his hand reaching out to wipe away Leo’s tears.

Leo didn’t answer.

Can we?

“I think I need some time for myself, okay?”, he said and leaned into Logan’s touch for a second before removing himself out of the hug.

He walked out of the kitchen but as he turned around again, Logan and Finn were already in each other’s arms, rocking from side to side. He could hear a faint “It’s going to be alright.” But it cut off with his door falling shut.

He walked towards his bed, falling down face first and just laid there. He gave himself a few minutes to breathe, his mind was blank. He was so so scared. He couldn’t do anything. He didn’t know how and if this was going to work out, hearts are going to break either way.

He lifted his head a bit, reaching out for the phone he carelessly threw onto the bed.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up

“Lupin?”

“Cap? Did I call the wrong number?”

“No, you didn’t. Is everything alright? You sound a bit off.”

“No, yes. Can you just pass the phone to Remus please?”, his voice sounded so small but he heard shuffling and some swearing before the other Lupin was on the phone.

“Knutty, what’s up?”

“Re…”, Leo let out a shaky breath. Remus didn’t say anything else, he just waited, which is why he called him in the first place. Remus always knew what’s best.

“If- let’s say for some reason you need to move to another city on the other end of the country and Sirius is in no way able to come with you, what would you do?”

“Leo, what is going on?”

“You’ll probably find out soon enough, just answer my question please.”

“I mean. I would try to do a long distance but it’s a tough decision to make. Long distances aren’t easy. Leo, whatever is going on, try to do what you think will be best for you and listen to you heart. Love you.”

“Love you too, Re. Thank you.”

He threw his phone back into the pillows and thought about what his teammate said. The problem was, Leo’s heart was broken and what use was it to listen to a broken heart?

Maybe it would be better to call it quit. I can’t manage a long-distance relationship. I can’t.

He pushed himself off the bed, finding his way to the living room, trying not to think too much about what he was going to do to them, what he was going to do to himself. Logan and Finn were curled up together on the sofa, not crying anymore but not talking either. Leo cleared his throat, both boys looked up to him, slowly sitting up properly.

“We need to talk.”

Leo rounded the couch, sitting down between them, his heart heavy. He didn’t say anything right away but breathed, trying to stop the tears from falling again but he was failing.

“I think- I know I won’t be able to keep a long-distance relationship up. I think I need to cut myself out of this. I’m sorry.”

Leo didn’t talk around it or tried to talk it better because it wouldn’t make a thing better. This was the most painful experience and he knew he was the reason for it.

Said two froze, the comforting hand that was on his back a second ago fell down on the couch. It was dead silent. Then Logan started sobbing, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“What?”

Finn’s voice was nothing but a whisper, his eyes red and shiny.

“Leo no. No please, don’t do this to us. You can’t- we are a team, we are supposed to stay together, we-we are supposed to marry in the future, Leo-“, Logan broke down into sobs again, his face in his hands. It broke Leo’s heart into a million pieces.

Leo looked over to Finn, tears silently rushing down over his beautiful freckles, his eyes were filled with pain but also understanding.

“I’m sorry,” said Leo, his voice breaking “but I made my decision.”

He stood up, not being able to stay another second longer in the mess he made, walking into his bedroom, the lump in his throat growing.

Fuck

----

The farewell party was spot on terrible. The team gathered together at Dumo’s, trying to make the best out of the situation but there wasn’t a single thing that cheered Leo up. He was on the verge of tears the moment he stepped into the house because it just reminded him of the things, he won’t be able to see on a daily basis anymore.

Now, a few hours later, his bags were packed, the taxi was waiting downstairs. Logan and Finn stood there, right in front of him, tears in their beautiful eyes.

He gave them a small, tight smile.

“I love you,” Leo said through his tears before he looked at them one last time and closed the door behind him. The moment the door clicked shut he broke down sobbing.

Little did he know that on the other side of the door, Finn was sliding down against it, his mind trying to wrap around the things that happened, pulling Logan against his chest, trying to ease the pain they were feeling.

---

They were falling apart, slowly but surely.

The first week was okay, given the circumstances, they tried to comfort each other and there was a lot of crying. But eventually, Logan couldn’t sleep in Finn’s bed anymore, it didn’t feel right and there were too many memories connected to it. The dark spots under their eyes grew from day to day.

The team was worried but they brushed it off every time someone tied to talk to them or to get them to open up.

The problem was, it’s human nature to search for anything to blame something on. But there was no one. It wasn’t Logan’s fault, it wasn’t Finn’s, it wasn’t Leo’s, it wasn’t Arthur’s.

By the end of week two, Finn and Logan barley talked to each other and the flat was a real mess. Pizza boxes over pizza boxes, the dishes still in the sink, the windows weren’t opened for days but neither had the strength to do something about it. How could they? Everyday was a fight, going on the ice wasn’t what it was before.

But the season moved on and they had to function. Logan getting more and more aggressive on the ice, searching for something to deal with his emotions.

A few hundred miles away, Leo was watching the game in his hotel room, starring at the screen.

It had been three weeks by now and he hadn’t really talked to anyone yet.

The new team was amazing honestly, they were trying to include him and welcoming him into their circle but he couldn’t bring himself to engage with them, his walls were up again.

This wasn’t family dinner at Dumo’s, this wasn’t being chirped by Pot’s at morning practice, this wasn’t Cap threatening him with drills if he didn’t concentrate, this wasn’t screaming to Taylor Swift songs with Kasey, this wasn’t waking up with Finn and Logan next to him. He was a fucking Lion and this was not right.

So, he made a decision, maybe this time, the right one.

---

Finn was currently sitting on the couch, searching for something to watch when he heard the doorbell. He debated if it was worth it to stand up but he managed to drag himself towards the door. He nearly fainted when he saw who was standing there. He starred dumbly at his face, blue eyes starring right back at him.

“We need to talk and sort this shit out.”

[mooncustafer]

Recover, Regroup, Roadtrip

Agent Dale Cooper disappeared in March 1989. The case is still open. Agent Dale Cooper disappeared in October 2016. The case is still open.

for @laughingpinecone  /

/ @countdowntotwinpeaks​‘ WONDERFULXSTRANGE 2021

“Diane, I am uncertain of the date and time, or indeed if such concepts have any meaning in this place. Nor do I have my recorder, but I find verbalizing my thoughts helps me to resist the confusion and lethargy. As for addressing my words to you, even though you’ll never hear them— well, old habits die hard.”

It pleased Wally Brando on a profound level to discover that a few pay-phones remained in Philadelphia, that reaching out was not yet the prerogative only of those who could afford a landline or a mobile. He could also have checked his email on a terminal at one of the city’s Public Libraries, and indeed, made a note to do so within the day so that he might catch up on the news of parents and former school friends. The pay phone was also blessed with both the yellow and the white pages, and the number he sought appeared under “F.” Getting transferred to Dr. Albert Rosenfield was a more complex quest, but he was persistent as well as polite, and after a few minutes he was able to speak to Dr. Rosenfield’s voice mail, if not the man himself.

He introduced himself with salutations, and was about the explain the nature of his request when a beep signalled that the allotted time had run out.

“To listen to your message, press one. To re-record your message, press two,” said the voice of the machine.

Silently cursing his volubility, Wally pressed two. This time he simplified the introduction, and asked if Dr. Rosenfield would be good enough to meet him that evening at the Morimoto Japanese restaurant not far from the FBI offices, to discuss a matter of deep concern connected, he believed, with the little town of Twin Peaks. When the beep came this time, he listened to his message and then, satisfied, hung up. The restaurant he’d named was slightly above his means, but he was meeting a friend of his godfather, and wanted to do justice to the occasion, even if the reason for it was one of peculiar anxiety to himself.

“Diane, I have tried so many times to escape— on the last attempt I really did get out into the world, but my plans, I fear, had dire repercussions for you, and to no end— my course still led me back to the Black Lodge. Some flaw in my own nature keeps trapping me in this loop; perhaps it’s what they sometimes call Saṃsāra.”

It was Agent Tammy Preston’s custom, when scraping the internet for information relevant to one or more recent cases, to check her email inbox every seven minutes— to do so every five minutes would disrupt the flow of her work, but ten-minute gaps might let something important go unanswered for too long. Just now the inbox was due another glance, and switching tabs she saw that two minutes earlier Director Bryson had replied to Tammy’s email of that morning with an invitation to come by her desk at her earliest possible convenience.

Tammy locked her screen, paused ‘Soft Fuzzy Man’ on her playlist and removed her headphones. Picking up the folder marked Missing Persons, 1989– Palmer, she slipped back into her pumps and made for Bryson’s office. The door was open but Tammy stopped at the threshold and rapped on the wall.

“Come in,” said Director Bryson, looking up from a folder. Bossa nova music played softly in the background as Tammy entered and pulled up a chair. It sometimes puzzled Tammy that apart from herself and Director Gordon Cole, no one in this particular division of the FBI seemed to have any interest in music recorded after 1979. (The first few times she’d heard ‘Du Hast’ pounding through the walls of Cole’s office, she’d wondered if this taste for metal was the result, or perhaps the cause, of his hearing loss; but after he’d joked to an unamused Agent Rosenfield about how these were difficult times and difficult times called for Dave Brubeck, she’d looked up the reference in case it was a coded message, and then the next day had overheard Gordon whistling ‘Mister Sandman,’ a song she knew primarily from an internet meme, at which point she concluded that the ear wants what it wants, regardless of demographic.)

“You told me you’d found some serious inconsistencies in the records surrounding Twin Peaks and the Palmer case?”

Tammy nodded, hesitated:

“I believe there may be inconsistencies as well in my own perceptions of the case.”

“Well now, that I find a little harder to believe.” Bryson smiled, but then her voice grew serious: “I’ve looked over the notes you made, and it confirms my own doubts about events.”

“Worse yet— the fact that I truly left the Lodge and then returned to it, will enable the beings that inhabit this place to take another twenty-five year turn in my likeness, unleashing even more evil on the world. The only thing stalling them is the doppelgänger I had MIKE make for the Jones family, but I don’t know if he’s still under the White Lodge’s protection.”

After all these months it still surprised Harry Truman there was so little physical pain, and so much boredom, to dying. Oh there’d been pain at the beginning, when he’d started treatment and had had to stop drinking; the memory of detoxing still made him shudder. But now he only felt a tiredness too huge for sleep to make any dent in it; and since he couldn’t sleep all the time, there were a great many hours during which all he could do was lie in the hospice bed or sit in one of the hospice chairs, and think.

At this point dying didn’t even sound so bad— it wasn’t like the past three decades had been all that great. He imagined going to sleep, just filling up a big bowl of silence and darkness and sinking into it, and then he felt bad for thinking that because Frank had already lost enough people without Harry lighting out too. Anyways, with the things he’d seen over the years he’d be a damn fool to think there was anything peaceful about death and whatever came after. So he’d lie awake trying to find some other topic to ponder, and that’s generally when the boredom set in.

Right now, courtesy of the nap he’d had in the afternoon after today’s treatment had left him especially exhausted, he was lying awake in the wee small hours. 3:52 am, said the clock on his bedside table beside the stack of paperbacks Frank had brought him on his visits— Harry wasn’t afraid of e-readers the way Lucy was of cellular phones, but he found the smell of paper comforting. It reminded him of the Bookhouse. The hospice tended to smell of disinfectants and sweat and soup. The food actually wasn’t as bad as the food at the hospital in Twin Peaks used to be, not that any food could be as bad as the hospital food in Twin Peaks used to be, but it made no difference to Harry, whose appetite had been gone for months. Frank always brought a slice of Norma’s pie too, carefully sealed in an old cookie tin to keep it fresh, but Harry could never manage more than a couple of bites, and they didn’t always stay down.

Being awake in the middle of the night in a hospice wasn’t as bad as being awake in the middle of the night when you were alone at home— the occasional voices or footsteps from the corridors beyond were reminders that whatever might be happening to Harry, life went on for the staff; and the lights from the city outside showed that life went on for others outside the hospice walls. When he’d first arrived, those city lights had made it hard to sleep, but now they substituted for the starry sky above Twin Peaks. There were fewer birds to watch in the city, though sparrows, pigeons or a starling sometimes lit on the ledge outside his window and peered in at him, or maybe at their own reflections. The frequent rain pattering against the glass— well, that sounded the same here as it did in a cabin.

Frank had called to tell him about Margaret Lanterman. Harry sometimes wondered if he should have stayed in Twin Peaks and died in his own home like her, instead of lingering in this hospice like the doomed heroine of some nineteenth-century novel. Or like Annie Blackburn. Or Audrey Horne.

The rain was spattering now against Harry’s window, bending the light from the Japanese stone lantern in the pocket-sized garden below. Harry couldn’t remember what the hospice building looked like from the outside, but he guessed it was similar in style to the mid-century one next door where the day-patients came for their treatments. A flash silhouetted the roofline; five seconds later came the thunder-crack. Harry settled back and closed his eyes.

Sleep pulled him into dreams of an espresso machine, like the one in the coffee place down in the lobby next to the gift shop for visitors. This machine filled a whole room, metal pipes feeding back on themselves like some kind of espressouroboros, neither steam nor coffee escaping from the grotesque contraption. Agent Cooper stood wearily before it with two empty coffee-cups. Harry was just wondering who the second cup was for, when Coop looked up and met his eyes:

“What year is this?!”

Harry sat up in bed, listened intently for two full minutes, but he didn’t hear Coop’s voice again. He sighed. Sometimes the mind pulls imaginary sounds out of the background noise. False pattern recognition or something— Coop would have known a word for it. Harry had little hope left they’d ever find Cooper, or if they did, that he’d still be the man he’d known. Yet he’d carried on, more (he told himself) out of habit than any real hope. He’d kept in touch with Agent Rosenfield, even when it meant letting him know about the cancer— not that Albert would blab the secret to anyone in Twin Peaks.

“Hello?”

“Good, you’re still alive.” Albert’s personality hadn’t mellowed with the years, exactly, but familiarity had worn the edges off his jibes.

“Shut up, Albert. So what have you found?” Albert’s calls generally came every three months, but never at nine in the morning, and he’d last spoken to Harry only two weeks back. Something important must have happened.

“Actually, Sheriff Truman, I’m the one coming to you for information.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s not easy to do investigations from a hospital bed. What can I tell you that you can’t get from other sources?”

“I need you to summarize the Laura Palmer case back in 1989, and the actions of Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks at that time.”

“Albert, is this one of your damn cognitive tests? You already know—”

“We’re both too tired to argue, just humor me.”

“How detailed do you want?”

“An outline will suffice.”

Harry took a deep breath and briefly listed the finding of Laura’s body, and the living but dazed and injured Ronnette, and the arrival of Agent Dale Cooper to lead the investigation. He skimmed over the crimes of Jacques Reneault and some of the other peripheral drama that had occurred in the town around that time, noted that Leland Palmer had murdered his own daughter, albeit while not fully himself, and was beginning to recount Cooper’s temporary suspension and Windom Earle’s campaign of terror, when Albert interrupted:

“You’ve still got the unofficial version, then.”

“Unofficial?”

“According to FBI records and your colleagues at the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Office, Laura Palmer is an unsolved missing-person case.”

Harry began to feel sick.

“Goddammit, Albert, you did the autopsy. I punched you and you fell across her body. You found a broken poker chip in her stomach—” Albert broke in:

“I hadn’t disclosed that detail to anybody I’ve questioned about this.” His voice was a little shaky. “Listen, Harry,” he continued. “Last Friday I was contacted by a young man wearing motorcycle leathers and talking like Jack Kerouac on quaaludes.”

“Wally.”

“Naturally I supposed him to be from your iodine-deficient neck of the woods even before he introduced himself as your godson and the offspring of those lieutenants of yours. He told me he’d come because he wasn’t sure where else to turn. Apparently he keeps in touch with his parents as he rides across the continent, but in their most recent conversation he’d noticed their memories of certain events had become confused. I was about to tell him I wasn’t the least bit surprised, when he added that he’d checked with other townsfolk, including your brother, and they all seemed to have had the same— how’d he put it? ‘The walls of their memory painted over like a childhood bedroom converted to a study.’”

”That sounds like Wally, all right.”

”Eventually he got round to explaining why he’d come to me. The message that had prompted him to call home was from Lucy; she said she’d shot a suspect who was attacking your brother Frank. She’d also mentioned some FBI agents arriving a few minutes later.”

Harry swallowed. He tried to imagine Lucy shooting anyone:

“Frank never said anything about this.”

“And when Wally called home, Andy and Lucy not only denied it had happened, they had no idea what he was talking about, not that I’d guess that to be an unusual state of affairs. Anyway, after I sent your godson away, I began to have contradictory memories myself of what Cooper had told me about the case. I remembered the poker chip after waking in the middle of the night from the worst dreams I’d had since medical school. I’ve been telling myself it was a false memory, maybe a composite of all the young female murder victims I’ve had to examine in my career, but I told myself I’d make one more phone call, just to check. And now you confirm it. Also, in my recall you knocked me across Leo Johnson’s body. Thanks for the correction. Are you still there?”

“Yes,” Harry answered, glad he was already sitting on his bed.

“Now that that’s established,” said Albert’s voice on the other end of the phone: “here’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: when do you remember Agent Cooper disappearing?”

“March 1989.” Harry tried to keep his voice steady, as though he was giving evidence in court. He briefly explained about the Black Lodge and Coop’s reappearance and unsettling behaviour and how he’d checked himself out of the hospital and was never heard from again. There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Are you still there, Albert?”

“According to FBI records and, up until two days ago, my own memories: Coop disappeared this past October while driving to Odessa, Texas for a case. The last record of him was a credit-card charge at a motel just outside the city.”

“What was he investigating in Odessa?”

“Missing person. I’ve tried looking into that case, but it seems to be a dead end, especially since Coop never seems to have arrived at the diner where the man he was looking for had allegedly been running drugs.”

“Sounds like the kind of establishment where nobody’d admit anything. Maybe Coop did get to the diner.”

“Gee, you’ve cracked it Sheriff, we would never have thought of that. The diner was old-school, but not so old-school they didn’t have a security camera trained on the front counter. We went over three days worth of footage. I admit we can’t be sure he didn’t slip in through the back for some reason; but you knew Coop— can you honestly picture him entering a diner and not ordering a coffee?”

“Not the Coop I knew, but— I already told you he was acting pretty erratically just before he took off.”

Harry heard Albert sigh.

“I’ve been checking with a few of my colleagues who were involved in the original Palmer investigation. I think Gordon knows something, but being Gordon he’s saying nothing, and as loudly as possible. Denise— Director Bryson, now— remembers the unofficial version, and according to her so does Agent Preston— oh right, you never met Agent Tammy Preston, the poker-faced glamazon computer hacker— I’m not sure she was even born yet in 1989, but she was on a case in Twin Peaks in October 2016, and during the course of the subsequent paperwork, she started noticing a lot of records and statements didn’t match up, and then she realized her own memories didn’t match up. Which brings up another problem with trying to reason this out by conventional methods: something in that Salem’s Pacific-Northwest Lot of yours is rewriting memories, documents, maybe the facts themselves. But so far it’s predominantly affected the people who were on the spot this past October.” Albert’s voice rasped a little from the long phone call, and he paused to clear his throat. “Unfortunately, that also means the people most likely to remember the original version of events are people who weren’t in the Sheriff’s Office during the incident that seems to have triggered the change. At the risk of sounding like one of those bullshit shows on the History Channel, we may never know exactly what happened that night.”

“Wait, what even was the case that brought you all back in 2016?”

“That’s the problem— I’m one of the people who was there, and I only have vague and disconnected memories of a British man with a gardening glove, the chorus of Guys and Dolls, Agent Cooper leaving the room with Diane, his secretary who quit the FBI decades ago, and Gordon, and only Gordon coming back.” Albert paused again. “It goes against my personal feelings and medical opinions, but would you be willing to let me visit you in person? I’ve some vacation time and enough frequent-flyer miles that the trip will probably cost less than the long-distance charges if we continue this conversation.”

Harry opened the drawer of his bedside table and took out the key to Coop’s old hotel room:

“Yeah, come by.”

“Diane, I am currently alone. I realize that statement implies that I’m not always alone here, and indeed I sometimes have a companion, who I still think of as Laura Palmer, though I don’t know if that’s her identity anymore; I’d hoped, after my last attempt, that Laura would no longer be in this place at all. She comes and goes, or perhaps we both come and go and our orbits occasionally intersect. I’ve tried to find some pattern to it, but with no reliable way to measure time, I’ve had little success.

The last time we met she told me about a room she hadn’t seen before, all white walls, in which a dark-haired woman was contemplating a mirror with a puzzled look. I can’t help but feel this parallels my own situation.”

“Frank sent me this last month. But when I thanked him the next time he called, he didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.” Albert hesitated before taking the room key:

“Great Northern Hotel,” he read, turning it over. “Twin Peaks. Isn’t the front desk going to want this back?”

“Unless I miss my guess, it’s from 1989 when Coop was staying there.”

Albert’s ears stuck out more noticeably, or perhaps it was his face that was thinner. He’d spent the first part of his visit scrutinizing Harry and questioning him about his case and what the doctors were doing for it, until Harry told him to quit it or he’d run out of time to discuss Coop’s disappearance before visiting hours ended, and anyway weren’t Albert’s patients usually dead to begin with?

The trouble with the subsequent discussion was that it went in a circle— the people who’d been present for the 2016 Unknown Event had uncertain memories of what had actually happened; and the people who clearly recalled the 1989 Palmer case as a murder hadn’t been present for the Unknown Event. The one thing that seemed likely was that there was some connection between the 1989 case and the 2016 case, particularly since both had been followed by the unsolved disappearance of one Agent Dale Cooper.

“I hate to say it, Albert, but I’ve given up hope on ever finding Coop.”

“What’s hope got to do with it?” Albert asked. His tone was not sarcastic.

“Diane, I’ve decided that, if only to keep my mind occupied, I will go looking for the white room and the woman with the mirror. I’d feel happier if I had a ball of twine or some breadcrumbs to leave as a trail back to the waiting room, but I’m coming to terms with the idea that’s there’s no advantage to remaining or returning here— it’s not as if I need food or drink in this place, and I cannot be any more lost than I already am.

So far, I believe I’ve walked down five identical red-curtained hallways, and turned left five times. It therefore seems likely that I’m following a counterclockwise, roughly spiral path, although I’m uncertain if I’m proceeding inwards or outwards.”

“If this search is going to require juggling two sets of memories, then I’d better come along so you don’t get brainwashed again.”

“Sheriff Truman, if you haven’t noticed by now, you’re in a cancer hospice.”

“I just finished a round of treatments, I’ve got a couple of weeks free.” Albert snorted and Harry added: “You can monitor my health while we’re on the road.”

“I’m already thinking of your health. You’re immunocompromised, travel is too risky.”

“We’re crossing a few state lines, not going to the other side of the world.”

Albert pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. I’m driving. Which also means I get to choose the music.”

In fact, they went most of the way by plane, after Albert weighed the odds and decided five hours in a tube of recycled air would still be easier on Harry than a two-day road trip. Some of the passengers threw suspicious looks at Harry’s N95 mask, but they’d cleared it in advance with the airline, and Harry had briefly removed it when he went through TSA, and Albert was prepared to flash his FBI badge, but the flight crew were understanding.

They picked up a car at Midland International. Someone, presumably an employee of the car-rental company, had left a bundle of tourist-attraction pamphlets on the front passenger seat.

“According to these, Odessa has replicas of the Globe Theatre and Stonehenge,” Harry observed once he’d got himself settled.

“Why?” Albert asked.

“Got me there. The pamphlets don’t explain the motivation.”

Albert reached up and pulled down the car’s sunshade on Harry’s side, though the Sheriff insisted his cowboy hat was protection enough for his pale scalp:

“We’re not in the northwest where it rains every fifteen minutes,” he muttered, “and I’ve been looking up the side effects of your meds— you sunburn easily now.” Albert’s driving skirted the city, and they did not pass the Globe or Stonehenge.

The Pearblossom Motel, last recorded location of Agent Cooper, proved to be closed down. They’d noticed the papered-over windows as they pulled up, the sign unlit, not even to say NO VACANCY, but Albert got out to knock anyway. Harry watched him from the car; eventually he clambered out and slowly walked over to join him.

Albert was peering through a spot where the paper had torn away behind the window-glass. He stepped aside for Harry, and the sheriff took a look into the motel’s dim interior. He saw an ordinary, rather old-fashioned registration office, wood-grain panelling on the walls along with a few faded posters for local attractions. Rows of keys still hung on a board behind the desk, and a daily calendar read October 15, presumably the date the motel had closed, or the approximate date— Harry could imagine a concierge might not bother to keep tearing off the pages if they knew it was their last week on the job.

“I now realize that despite everything, I’ve still been harbouring hopes of finding my way back to the waiting room, hence my continual choosing of left-hand turns, as if attempting to mathematically navigate a maze. I must make a true leap of faith if intuition is to guide me, so I’ve closed my eyes and spun around several times in this corridor, first clockwise and then counterclockwise.

Now that I no longer can tell which direction I’ve come from… Diane, can you hear that? Of course you can’t, I don’t really have my tape recorder. I’m going to fall silent and listen for a bit.”

There seemed little else of interest at the motel (Harry, feeling a bit silly, had even tried the Great Northern’s room key on all the doors), so they turned back towards Odessa to look for the diner Cooper had been investigating. The motel was only a mile behind when they saw, ahead of them, a tall woman walking along the highway, her fire-engine-red hair, black t-shirt and pencil skirt out of place in a locale that was rural to the point of emptiness. Albert swore under his breath.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” he told Harry. “Roll down your window, I’m pulling over.” But the woman only threw a glance at the car as it slowed, flipped them the bird, and kept walking, though she stepped gingerly and Harry noticed she was barefoot on the asphalt. Albert leant across him and stuck his head out the window:

“Diane!”

“Fuck off, guys. I’m not Diane, and whoever she is I bet she’d tell you the same.” Harry gently pushed Albert back and leant out the window himself:

“Sorry, ma’am, mistaken identity. Are you all right though? I see you’ve mislaid your shoes.”

“Looks like somebody ran off with them,” the woman answered, her tone mocking despite the tired set of her shoulders. “I haven’t been up to anything illegal, officer. Just a bit of fooling around.”

“We can give you a ride into town,” Harry offered. “If it helps, you’ll be alone in the back seat— means you can get the drop on us if you start to feel nervous.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at the offer, then abruptly barked out a laugh and opened the back door of the car, took a seat and folded her long legs in after her. “Only because I need a lift,” she insisted, rubbing her bare feet. “I knew office romances were a bad idea, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. Nothing to do now but go home and drown my sorrows in Hallowe’en candy.”

“You’ve still got candy left over from Hallowe’en?” In the mirror above the dashboard, Harry saw Albert raise an eyebrow and the woman in the back seat frowned, insulted:

“No! I may not have a maternal bone in my body, but I’m not going to give the trick-or-treaters candy that’s a year old.”

“Ma’am,” Harry asked, thinking about the calendar back in the Pearblossom Motel office, “what date d’you think it is?”

“Mid-October,” she began. Harry saw her reach into her purse with her black-and-white nails and pull out a mobile phone. Her eyes widened at the date: “No, it’s March. The fuck?—” She ran a hand through her scarlet hair. Harry wondered if it was dyed or a wig. Perhaps she was bald too. “Must be losing it. I was so sure it was October. And it’s not like I’ve could’ve been wandering around this desert for five months.” She tapped her phone screen. “5,230 messages?!” She looked frightened now, raising her head to meet their gaze in the mirror. “Where the hell have I been? And you guys— you’re feds, aren’t you?”

“No,” Harry began.

“I am,” said Albert. “He’s not.”

“Well, can you tell me what’s going on? Or is it classified? God, it’s not aliens, is it? I always assumed alien conspiracies were bullshit to cover up real conspiracies.”

“It’s probably not aliens,” Harry answered, unable to keep doubt from his voice as he remembered Major Briggs, “but I afraid it’s not going to sound any less weird.”

“To start with, we’re in the area investigating a colleague who disappeared in October,” began Albert, “and then you turn up, apparently amnesiac since that date.”

“And with my messages unchecked since then.”

“Yes, but there’s another detail— you look exactly like a former colleague of mine who was close to our missing man. That’s why I called you Diane when I slowed down.”

“I need a smoke.”

“No.”

“Albert,” Harry interrupted, “I’ve already got cancer, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Do you want me to answer that in detail?”

“No I don’t.” Harry turned to look over his shoulder at the woman in the back: “Just roll down your window first.”

“We’ll pull over and she can step away from the car,” said Albert.

He stopped on a shoulder, and their passenger got out and lit a cigarette. Examining the packet, she called to them:

“Three left. That’s fewer than I remember having on me in October, but not by much.” Albert, meanwhile, had pulled a shopping bag from the back seat:

“You should eat something,” he said to Harry, producing a sealed cup of applesauce and a box of plastic spoons. Between rounds of treatment, Harry’s nausea receded, but his appetite was still pretty weak. “There’s saltine crackers, too.” Harry chuckled in spite of himself as he tore the foil off the applesauce:

“This all makes me feel like I’m home from school with the ‘flu.”

“You’ll have to watch Roadrunner cartoons on your own phone, I’m not paying for the data,” Albert snapped.

“I’m surprised we even get reception out here.” The red-haired woman had strolled back to the car with her cigarette, though she took care to stay downwind from Harry’s rolled-down window. “Guys, is it just me or is this highway really deserted— like, Rod-Serling-voiceover deserted?”

“We were just thinking Roadrunner cartoons.”

“Can’t be, there’s no weird rocks.” She flicked ash onto the pavement, “Though it does feel like if someone painted a tunnel entrance on a wall around here, you might be able to drive into it. If you weren’t a coyote.” She took another drag and glanced at the power lines humming above their heads. “Maybe it’s the hum from those wires that’s giving us brain cancer— oh sorry, dude.” She broke off and looked at Harry in apology.

“It’s all right, ma’am,” he said when he’d finished swallowing his mouthful of applesauce. “I’ve got leukaemia, not brain cancer. And the sound from those lines is unpleasant. Like the whine of mosquitoes in the woods.” As he spoke the hum intensified, becoming a loud crackle. Albert glanced up as a shadow fell over the three travellers and their car.

In the sky a dark, nebulous shape twisted, circled, formed a comma or an apostrophe, and dove towards them.

The first few grackles, out of thousands, came down on the roof and hood of the car. Harry could see one pecking at the windscreen and glaring at him with hard yellow eyes. He suddenly remembered Coop had been afraid of birds; until now, he’d never been able to imagine why. He turned and pushed open the back door as the woman dove inside the vehicle. Around them, the flock blotted out the landscape.

“Hope they don’t scratch up the finish,” Albert shouted over the sound of wing-beats, “or I’m not getting my deposit back.”

“Is this nesting season? I mean, are the grackles round here normally this—”

“Oh fuck, one got in!” came a yell from the back seat. Eardrums ringing, Harry turned to see a small black shape ricocheting around the car’s interior as the woman flailed her long, bare arms. The grackle made for the gap between Albert’s seat and headrest.

And got stuck, its beak not quite touching the back of Albert’s neck.

Harry reached for the little feathered body, thinking of how to pin the wings against the bird’s sides to avoid injury to it or the surrounding humans, but the moment his fingers touched it, it crumbled. At the same time the din outside the car ceased.

“That— that’s not natural.” Their passenger was covering her mouth with her hand. Even Albert looked shocked. Harry stared at the palmful of ash that was all that was left of the grackle.

“Let me get a sample bag,” Albert muttered. He pulled out a small clear plastic bag, and held it out while Harry poured the remains in. Then he handed him a packet of wet wipes. “You all right, Diane?” The woman in the back seat did not correct him on the name this time.

“Couple of scratches,” she said, examining her right arm. Albert passed her a mini first-aid kit. Got to give him his dues, he prepares for everything, thought Harry, adjusting the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Y’know,” he said, “This could be a good sign. In that it’s any kind of sign. There’s nothing worse than working in the dark, waiting for some hint you’re getting warmer or colder— that’s the kind of thing makes you wonder if the thing you’re looking for is even out there at all. But this—”

“Someone tipped their hand, you mean, when they tried throwing a Hitchcock movie in our faces,” Albert cut in. “But what exactly did we do to worry them?” His glance, and Harry’s, moved to the dashboard mirror’s reflection of their passenger.

“You think the birds were after me, or wanted to break up our merry band?” She raised an eyebrow. “Trouble is I know a token effort when I see one.”

“Or a warning.”

“We found the Pearblossom Motel;” Harry thought he saw the woman flinch at the name. “And then left it, to head for Odessa.”

“Are you suggesting we drive around in circles and see if they attack again?” Albert muttered.

“I think that’d be a little unfair to our passenger.” Harry turned to her: “Ma’am, I believe Albert when he says he knows you; but I also believe you when you say you don’t remember him. We can drop you anywhere you like— your call.”

“Give me a few minutes, fellas. Given all the weird shit I’ve just been through, I’ve got to think about whether I’m safer away from you two, or sticking close by. Plus I’ve got messages to check.” She took her phone out again. Without taking his eyes off the road, Albert pulled his own phone from his suit jacket, passing it to Harry:

“You’d better check mine. Maybe Tammy’s got some news—she’s been looking up everyone connected with events in Twin Peaks, but not living in the area. She even emailed some couple in Japan, though I’m still not sure what they’ve got to do with this.”

Harry peered at Albert’s phone screen, occasionally commenting if something looked to be of interest:

“Gordon’s sent a grudging OK, tells you to be careful. Also tells you to look after me. I’d always imagined he’d type in uppercase— didn’t realize it was him at first. Hm. Do you know a coroner?”

“I know lots of coroners, we get together for an annual poker tournament and lucky draw. And when I say draw…”

“Do you know a Dr. Talbot in Buckhorn?” Harry interrupted. “Autopsied a headless body last September that turned out to be Major— wait, he— is this one of those revised timeline things?”

“Not exactly.” Albert brought Harry up to date as best he could on Major Briggs’ disappearance and decades-later reappearance. “I certainly remember meeting Constance,” he added, after a pause, and cleared his throat again. “According to Tammy, I made a favourable impression on her, which is… unusual among my acquaintances, even those who share my profession. So what does she have to say?”

“Something about a wedding ring and Schrödinger’s Cat?” Harry looked at the message again. “She says Tammy spoke to her, and was going to contact you too… a gold ring they found on Briggs… sorry, in Briggs… keeps disappearing from her office’s records and the FBI’s evidence files, then coming back again?”

Albert frowned in thought as he drove: “Does it have anything engraved on it?” Harry tapped a message on the phone screen, CC-ing Constance and Tammy.

Outside the car, suburbs, or at least car dealerships and big-box stores, were beginning to sprout up along the highway.

Albert’s phone pinged and Harry read the message from Constance:

“Yes, scribbled it down last time I could find the record. This ring any (wedding) bells? TO DOUGIE, WITH LOVE, JANEY-E”

“Janey-E,” said Diane from the back seat, and Harry heard her drop her phone. Turning around he saw her wringing her hands, the nails now robin’s-egg blue. “Albert,” she gasped, “Oh, Albert, I was almost lost again.”

“I believe the change in method may have led to a breakthrough: I haven’t found any rooms leading off of the corridor I’m following, but the decor has gradually changed from black-and-white flooring and red curtains, to dark brown linoleum flooring and institutional green walls hung with large relief maps of different parts of the world. The maps appear to have been manufactured some time between 1954 and 1965, as they show North and South Vietnam as separate nations. I’m just passing the continent of Antarctica, now, and… oh. I think there might be…

Diane, I found the white room, and when I call it that, I’m not simply echoing Laura’s name for it. It was like a cross between a sanatorium and a snow cave, if a snow cave had furniture. There was a bed with white blankets and a white metal frame like a hospital bed. Audrey was sitting on one end of it, wrapped in a white bathrobe and looking at a round mirror that stood on a little white table. She turned as I entered, and her face was older, drawn and, for a moment, frightened. Then she looked at me again and relaxed, saying ‘Oh, it’s really you.’ I fear she must have met one of my nastier doppelgängers at some point.”

At Diane’s request, they stopped to eat at a fast-food chain before approaching the diner Coop had been investigating in at least one timeline.

“I’m hungry, but I’d be too nervous to eat at the place where Dale might have… well, if they’re a front for something, then the food’s either spectacular or terrible, and I’m not feeling lucky right now. I want to be someplace as bland and mundane as possible for a while, so I can regroup.”

“Well this place has a twenty-minute limit.” Albert jerked his thumb at the sign.

“That’ll do.” Diane curled up beside Harry in the booth as Albert went up to the counter to place their orders. She still wore her pencil skirt, but on on of their stops she’d purchased tennis shoes and a couple of fresh t-shirts— the one she was wearing at the moment read NOT TODAY in flowery letters. “Now he’s got two of us to worry about,” she said under her breath. Harry decided to reply:

“Someone needs to worry about him.” Diane nodded, and Harry offered his hand: “Sorry, we never did the proper introductions did we? Harry S. Truman.”

“I know.” Her expression relaxed slightly. “I see why he likes you.”

“Not sure Albert likes anybody, exactly—”

“That’s not who I was talking about.”

Albert returned with a eye-searingly-orange plastic tray:

“Mushroom burger, cheeseburger, buttered biscuit for you, Harry, because they can’t just serve toast like a real restaurant and those things they claim are bagels are made out of lies.”

“Don’t worry Albert, I’ll survive a biscuit.” Harry picked up one half of the baked item and took a bite. It wasn’t too bad, actually.

“Diane, the ring that jogged your memory—”

“My half-sister and her husband. Don’t ask me how they’d be mixed up in this though, Janey-E’s aggressively normal.”

“And her husband?”

“Never actually met him. Janey-E and I don’t talk much,” she explained. “But from her comments he’s… passively normal. Works for an insurance company, drinks too much sometimes, the whole man-in-the-gray-flannel-suit thing.”

“I’ve been talking with Audrey, or the version of her that existed in the white room. You’ll notice I use the past tense. Still sitting on the bed, she raised a finger and pointed to the mirror in front of her, saying:

‘The other me— she ran away from home, like she thought Laura had done. I’m amazed she survived her first year in the big city, but look:’

Diane, I saw Audrey searching records online, tailing suspects, testifying in civil and sometimes criminal courts. It’s a life that can make a cynic of the kindest soul, but there are situations the police don’t or can’t investigate, and those were— are, I suppose— Audrey’s bread and butter, in that mirror world. And they seem to pay well enough she can afford to do some pro bono cases.

‘I wish I were out there,’ she said, and the mirror clouded and shifted. She  patted the bedspread, and I sat down beside her. ‘You know how,’ she began, ‘when you’re a kid, and you’re reading your favourite book, and a little after the halfway point, you start to think ‘I’m getting near the end of the book?’ And really, you’re not— there are pages and pages left of scenes and pictures. You’re always surprised just how much more there is. But it’s not enough to shake the feeling it’s putting off the inevitable. Dawdling before bedtime.’ She stood up suddenly, bent and kissed me on the brow. ‘Say hello to the other me, if you ever run into her.’ And then she was gone, Diane. Not in flame or fadeout, just gone.”

I look up, and Laura is beside me.

The diner, when they found it, was not what Harry’d pictured. Instead of a lonely Edward Hopper tableau, or a grimy spoon where toughs whispered to each other along the lunch counter and cast knowing glances in the direction of the men’s room, “Wispy Dreams Cafe” was a blandly cheerful donut shop, the logo rather obviously altered from that of a national chain.

“Looks like they’re under new management.” Diane observed as they got out of the car. “Or else they got tired of paying for the franchise?” The three of them made their way across the parking lot the cafe shared with the landscaping company next door. Inside, the sound of chattering customers and a hum from the coffee machine both soothed and overwhelmed. Harry steadied himself against a gleaming, cream-colored formica counter. The woman on the other side— not a fresh-faced high-school senior or a kindly-faced matron, just a woman with her hair in a ponytail and circles under her eyes, doing her best to smile— threw him a glance and Harry nodded.

“I’m ok. Albert, Diane, what do you two want?”

A couple of minutes later, they sat by the window, feigning interest in their donuts and coffee.

“Well, we’re living the cop cliché,” whispered Albert. “So, what do you think? Soulless suburban hangout, or den of villainy?”

Harry gingerly sipped the brew in his cardboard cup and eyed the other customers. You couldn’t say the place wasn’t busy; the woman at the counter had already served a family of four in the time it had taken Harry, Albert and Diane to seat themselves with their coffees, and another customer had just come in the door.

“That counter’s been installed recently. Deep-fat fryer’s been replaced too.”

“And they don’t know how to use it yet. You could wax skis with these donuts. That’s hardly a crime, though.” Diane looked around at the blue and yellow walls painted with large trompe l’oeil sprinkles. “Doesn’t seem to be anything else funny about the place— I hate to say it but this place might be legit.”

Harry watched the new customer lean in to the counter. Harry couldn’t quite make out what he was saying— presumably the man was placing his order, but it seemed to be taking a while and there was something tense in the woman’s expression. Beside him he heard Diane swear under her breath, and faster than he could turn his head, his peripheral vision took in that she was getting up. She strode towards the counter and Harry had a glimpse of the angry red scratch on her arm as he struggled to his feet.

Diane was leaning on the counter now, trying to insert herself between the customer and the worker.

“What did you just say to her?” she was asking.

“Look, I come in here all the time, we joke around. What makes you think it’s your fucking business?”

“What seems to be the trouble?” Harry loomed up behind the customer— he might have only half his usual strength but he was still a good six inches taller than the other man. Behind him, he guessed, Albert was approaching. Harry knew the agent was unwilling to use physical force and not exactly skilled at defusing situations through diplomacy, so he turned his gaze on the customer with all the quiet confidence he’d used as Sheriff. In his ear Diane hissed:

“It’s nothing to do with the case, this asshole’s just creeping on the staff.” She must’ve locked eyes with the man too, for he was staring at her now, his bland pink features shifting expression from anger to terrified fascination.

Rather an unimpressive face, thought Harry, and then, what’s Diane doing? He turned to look at her sharp, smiling profile, and saw a tear slide from her eye.

“No,” she said loudly and abruptly, and blinked hard. “Do you want us to escort him out?” she asked the woman behind the counter; but the man was already out the door and running for his car.

“Diane,” Harry whispered.

“Diane,” whispered Albert. Diane was passing one hand across her eyes.

“I could have fried him. Just now. Something wanted me to; but I just wanted him to back off.” She beamed at them as Albert held out an arm for her to steady herself. “I think I’m back to normal. Well, normal for me.”

“Are we the only two left here now?”

“I’m not even here anymore.”

“I don’t know how to get back to the waiting room.”

“It doesn’t matter, the coffee’s cold.”

Somehow, the white room has become even more featureless, despite that being both a logical and a grammatical impossibility. Only the bed, the table and Audrey’s mirror remain. A moment in the glass catches my eye, and I look to see— oh Diane, I’m so glad you escaped! I see you travelling with Albert, and… oh, Harry…

…the cafe’s fluorescent lights flickered as the background hum, noticeable since their arrival, now rose to an ear-splitting volume then died away just as suddenly. As the three of them looked on, an old-fashioned hospital bed, its steel frame painted white, materialized between the counter and the booths, replacing two unoccupied tables. At one end of it sat Agent Dale Cooper, fully dressed in his suit and tie, a look on his face of mild surprise that turned to the familiar joy as his gaze met theirs. Coop had grown older like the rest of them, sharper angles in his face, but he looked hale and well, and his eyes did not have the cruel gleam that chilled Harry’s memories of their last meeting.

“Harry,” he said, as though a quarter-century hadn’t passed. In response Harry silently doffed his cowboy hat, revealing his pallor, his naked scalp. Coop’s smiled wavered a little. “I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he whispered, and rose from the white bed. In the background, the cafe staff and patrons continued to chat and serve and drink and eat coffee and donuts as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on right in front of them. Albert made a hesitant noise in his throat and Coop raised his hand in that just a moment gesture he always used to make, and in that moment Harry knew his friend really was back from wherever he’d been all those years.

“Apologies for being brusque,” Coop said, “but there’s a family in Las Vegas who I’ve reason to believe are in danger right now—”

“Janey-E?” Diane asked.

“Right on the button. For personal reasons which I’ll explain later, I can’t get in touch with them myself. The Mitchell brothers might be able to help, but I don’t know how much they’ll be able to recall of our last meeting.”

“Tammy and Constance are already on it.”

“Good,” Coop looked relieved, and Harry stepped forward, shaking a little in spite of himself, and as if the motion had at last given him permission, Coop sailed forward and embraced him— very gently, as if he feared Harry might break. He’s gauging by touch how much weight I’ve lost, thought Harry, but it’s all right. He’d forgotten how warm Coop was. He became aware of Albert and Diane joining in, arms circling his shoulders and Coop’s. If I died right here and now, it’d be all right.

But this embrace was not an epitaph, or an epilogue. Outside, somewhere else in the city, was an imitation of an ancient stone monument; and a copy of an old theatre where real audiences watched real actors. Somewhere the forces that had sent the dark cloud of grackles prepared another attack, and somewhere Tammy Preston was moving to protect Janey-E and Dougie Jones. Elsewhere Audrey Horne walked the mean streets and was not herself mean. This was an interlude, but let them have it for a while.

A couple of patrons turned their heads to smile at the reunion going in their midst.

[silkylious]

Pro heroes Katsuki , Deku, Kiri trending on Twitter after posting a video of them and their s/o doing the baby mama dance how they react and

A/N: Thank you for the request! since you didn’t specify if you wanted a scenario or headcanons, i’ll do headcanons since they're easier for me to write, hope thats okay!

also i have a todoroki oneshot in the works, so stay tuned for that!

Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima was probably the one to bring up the dance in the first place. A toothy grin stretched his face as he leaped over the back of the couch, where you’d been enjoying a quaint read, a dainty hand caressing your engorged stomach. His hand snatching the book right out from your grasp, he didn’t give you a chance to respond before he practically shoved his phone in your face. An eyebrow raised skeptically at his antics, shifting your gaze to the screen in front of you. 

“Eiji, what’s this...?” He explained the challenge, his sharky smile only widening the further he explained. You were a little hesitant at first, and as you were about to voice your apprehension, your eyes caught sight of his smile, childlike and boyish. Fuck. How could you say no to that?

You spent a good half an hour trying to get the dance moves right, Eijirou cheering you on while fucking up his own moves. 

Kirishima can’t dance to save his life. You can’t convince me otherwise. But did that stop him? Nope.

He adjusted the camera on make-shift tripod, consisting of boxes and other random objects. he started the timer and you two began busting out moves, Eijirou still lacking all the skill needed for this exercise, his moves choppy and uncoordinated, though his enthusiasm made up for his amateurism. The precious grin adorning his face made you glad you took him up on his offer.

By the end of the routine, both of you were left panting for oxygen. He heaved a breathless chuckle before pulling you into his grip from behind, his large hands gingerly stroking your tummy, his lips pressed lovingly to your cheek. With his signature million watt smile ever present on his face, he sighed out words of tranquil, “Thanks for doing this, babe,” he pressed another exaggerated kiss to your face.

The video was posted on his official Twitter, right before you went to bed.

The next morning, no words could articulate the sheer affection you felt bubbling up in your chest when you opened your eyes to the sight of Eijirou’s pure jubilation. Just the look of unbridled happiness on his face made you fall head over heels for him all over again. While you were busy ogling him, his own heart accelerated with uninhibited pride and love as his eyes scanned the screen in his hands.

Kirishima loved to show you off, how could he not? you were amazing in every sense of the word, and you were all his, to love and to cherish. So you can only imagine the utter joy he felt when he saw #TinyRiot trending on twitter.

He skimmed through the countless replies and comments of people congratulating the couple and clowning on his less than impressive choreography, some were from his coworkers, some were from his fans, he replied to them as best as he could with delight radiating off of him. He continued going through his mentions until he eventually felt the heated stare on his face. Turning to his side, he finally met your eyes, your rounded figure peacefully nestled beside him on the bed, your stare so full with love and mirth it made his chest tighten, almost suffocating him.

Kirishima has always been good with words, and people in general but in that moment no matter how hard he tried to speak nothing would come out of his mouth, captivated by your adoring gaze. You looked at him like he was your entire universe. And he couldn’t handle that, the feeling building in his gut becoming too much for him.

 He had to let it out, less he spontaneously combust. Since he knew his voice would fail him if he tried to speak, he settled for pulling you in for a passionate kiss, hoping it would convey all the words he couldn’t say.

Midoriya Izuku

When you first approached him with the idea he had been a bit apprehensive. Don’t get him wrong, heaven knows he’d do anything to keep you content. But being in the position he was in, Izuku was painfully, sadly aware of the target put on not only his back, but his family as well. 

He didn’t want to expose you and his child to the danger that came with his blinding spotlight.

Izuku wears his heart on his sleeve. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, the boy was an open book, so you could immediately sense the reluctance on his face when you mentioned posting the video online.

You knew of the complications that came with dating a Pro-hero, the number one Pro-hero, so you were perfectly understanding of his hesitance and didn’t push it further. Though you couldn’t help the disappointment that flooded your features either.

The look of mild discontent on your face didn’t sit well with him, his conscious already conquered by guilt. As his green irises descended onto your pregnant belly, something in him snapped.

He wanted to provide his unborn son with a normal childhood, well as normal as someone like him could. And he wouldn’t be able to do that if he kept barring his family from enjoying the simple delicacies of life in fear of getting them hurt. He was a hero, for god’s sake! The arrival of a new addition in his tight-knit family only meant that he’d have to work harder to forge the perfect world for them, for his son.

His habit of mumbling his thoughts had you fully aware of the dilemma going on in his head, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now nothing else would. His forehead was flicked by dainty, soft fingers, snapping him out of his trance, “It’s fine, ‘Zuku, don’t worry about it.” too late, he’d already made up his mind.

Now with his previous dread thrown out the window, he grabbed your hands and hopped off the couch where he’d been previously watching some All Might docuseries, a determined look in his wide verdant eyes.

You spent a good hour practicing the moves, Deku was holding up just fine, the dance classes he’d taken with Mina during the Cultural Festival doing a good number on him. With enough effort and unrelenting obstinacy, he’d mastered the routine in record time. Now with the camera set up, it was time to preform.The whole dance, a gentle twinkle lit up his face, he truly couldn’t be more content watching you dance your heart out without a care. 

The clip was posted, and you two were off to prepare dinner, ignorant to the fucking storm of notifications blowing his phone up. 

Now hear me out; Deku absolutely fanboys over All Might in interviews or in public. His fans had already noticed the striking similarities between their quirks and they were well aware of his love of the retired Pro, so he was dubbed “All Might Jr.” His heart almost went into cardiac arrest when he saw #SmallMight trending on Twitter. Poor boy had just finished washing the dishes, he went to check his phone only for all colour to leave his face before he was red as a damn tomato.

You peered over his shoulder to see what had gotten him so flustered only to bring your fist to your mouth in a fruitless attempt at silencing your fit of giggles.

Now as blissful as it was to have a combination of his fans and colleagues (who had already known about the pregnancy) congratulating him, he knew it wouldn’t take long for the media to scrutinise his decision, bringing unwanted discourse into his personal life. But he was more than ready for that, after all, he had vowed to himself that he would protect you and his child, whether from villains or from mainstream media, he would let you both live your lives without any inhibitions.

Bakugo Katsuki  

Katsuki flat out refused when you initially asked him. Which was to be expected. Katsuki is private person when it comes to personal matters, you literally had to beg him to tell your friends about the pregnancy (honestly you were about ready to pull up a PowerPoint presentation on why Friends Matter and They Deserve to Know Important News™) 

The rejection didn’t stop you from nagging him about it though. 

He was in a similar situation to Deku, being the number two Pro-hero and the symbol of victory shined a light on him, for better or worse, he didn’t want to expose you and his daughter to the dark facets of his career. That and he did think it was stupid. He didn’t understand the appeal of sharing something so special with the general public, it was your private lives dammit! 

“Why do you wanna do it so bad?” it was a valid question, though phrased with overbearing aggression, he was getting fed up with your persistence. He immediately dialed down his abrasiveness when you flinched, your gaze descending to the floor, your hormones making you more susceptible to his harsh mannerisms.

“I just thought it would be cute to do...” Your voice trailed off, and his mind berated him as he watched your bottom lip quiver. He just couldn’t resist you, could he?

Eventually, he gave in, but he made it a point to spend as little time as humanly possible on the dance. Which was honestly very easy for him, the guy is a natural at almost everything, fucking figures he can dance. It made you a bit jealous how good he effortlessly was.

Bakugo did nothing half-assed, this was no exception. As the routine progressed, he loosened up more, almost enjoying the exercise, wouldn’t admit it though, he’s very adamant about making this seem like a chore even though he relished in that bright smile of yours. Tsundere headass.

The recording went by without a hitch, Katsuki putting his all into the choreography and slipping you a few gentle caresses here and there. Overall, the cheeky grin on your face made it worth the trouble.

He spurned posting the video on his account, so it ended up being posted on yours, you had a decent following and in minutes the #MiniSplosion was trending. 

Even he couldn’t deny the wave of pride that puffed up his chest, reading the influx of comments bleeding in. He loved showing you off, but his position made it damn near impossible to do that. He wanted to protect you, he figured after this he’d just have to work harder to keep his family safe.

You totally teased him about being a softie on the inside, but you didn’t push it too much, not wanting to tarnish the mood. He’d reply back with some empty remark but the soft tug at his lips, the tenderness in his stare and absence of his usual frown betrayed him, god he was such a sap for you. Pulling you in for an abnormally sweet peck, vastly different from his usual ferocious, passion filled kisses, he flicked your forehead and muttered, “You happy now?”

The surmounting adoration in his heart partially scared him, he couldn’t believe he fell that hard for someone. Yet he wouldn’t have it any other way, he couldn’t even imagine the idea of being without you, without his daughter. He was lucky to land himself such a strong, patient and kind partner, one that would stick it out with him through the end, and now he was undoubtedly going to flaunt it.

@Ground_Zero: My babygirls <3

...

Let’s just say it didn’t take long for #SoftGroundZero to go viral too.

[renegadepisces]

Bright Imagine: Kandomere accidentally meets your family Part 4 FINAL

Fandom: Bright Pairing: Kandomere x reader Tags: slow build, fluff, eventual nsfw Note: also on AO3 as Serendipity & Caffeine

A/N: Thank you all so much for hanging in there. It’s finally finished!

If anyone had told you in the miserable weeks since Kandomere kissed you and fled your apartment that he’d be sitting on your sibling’s couch watching a Disney movie with your nephews and niece curled up between you, you would have started the paperwork to have them committed to a psychiatric facility right then and there. 

Weeks had slipped into months since Kandomere kissed you in your apartment. It was enough time for you to be fairly certain that he hadn’t filed a complaint with human resources or asked for you to be transferred to another division. As grateful as you were to still have your job, the time had underscored another, more uncomfortable point. Unfortunately, it was also enough time for you to really miss whatever your relationship had been before that night. 

Overnight, he’d stopped coming by your desk and making friendly conversation. In meetings, he always put himself in the seat farthest from you. Almost all work-related communication came from Montehugh now, because apparently even calling you was a mistake. 

The word haunted you. With the exception of a few curt greetings and orders, those were the last words you’d heard from him. But you hoped tonight’s plans would take your mind off them. Your sibling and their spouse were taking a long weekend to celebrate their anniversary. You’d agreed to move into their home while they were away and take care of your nephews and niece. Tonight was the first night of what they’d called ‘the long sleepover’, and you were excited to spend some time with them after weeks of pressure at work. 

And your mind had admittedly been pleasantly distracted until you’d investigated some suspicious noises coming from the back patio and found two would-be burglars trying to reach a second-story window and break in. Thankfully, yelling loudly that you were a federal agent and waving your stungun at them had been enough to subdue one and send the other fleeing into the night. 

Even without discharging your service weapon, the incident still created a bureaucratic headache. Any kind of police response to a law enforcement officer’s home was a cause for alarm. Both the LAPD and the county sheriffs committed units to patrolling the area and checking local hospitals. Your sibling’s supervisor had even volunteered to station a patrol car outside the house all weekend in case the suspects came back. 

Most shocking of all was watching Kandomere arrive in furious style in his polished black sportscar. He barely paused to put the vehicle in park before stomping up the drive toward you. Even the most senior officers on the scene had rarely crossed paths with federal agents of his rank, much less the elven commander of the Magic Task Force. 

You were pretty sure damn few people had ever seen him quite like this. His usual scowl was harder and more deeply etched into his otherwise handsome face than usual. He seemed to have forgotten his blazer. His vest hung open, unbuttoned and slouching against his expensive button down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, highlighting his bare forearms and the lack of cufflinks or his watch. He’d also seemed to have taken off his tie. 

Had he come from his home? Had he cut his night short to rush over to your sibling’s home? He seemed so disheveled that the horrifying thought that he might have been on a date sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. 

You nearly spit out the swig of water you'd taken when he fixed the ranking officer on scene with his most polite and unsettling smile and told them he’d personally keep watch. It was irregular, but no one was going to argue with him. Except you, of course. 

You were tired. More importantly, Kandomere’s rejection still stung and you weren't keen on being near him in an otherwise comfortable and private space. But all your arguing was futile. Between his infamous intimidation and mentioning that he’d been invited into the home before while casually dropping your in-law and all the kid’s names, he’d convinced the ranking officers to let him watch the house. 

As the last squad car pulled away, you whirled on him. Your tone was polite - he was still your coworker after all - but your rigid shoulders and crossed arms practically advertised your displeasure. 

“Coffee?” you asked curtly.

He nodded, his eyes seemingly grazing over yours rather than really looking at you, and followed you into the house. 

Your nephews were thrilled to see him and you didn’t want to think too hard on why that made you unhappy and, more importantly, what kind of relative that made you. If Kandomere was at all put off by your frosty behavior, he didn’t let it show. Halloween was approaching, and you and the kids had been immersed in Hocus Pocus before you’d heard the would-be burglars’ shoes scuffing against the side of the house. That felt like hours ago. The perfect ease with which Kandomere inserted himself into what was otherwise a perfect slice-of-life snapshot from the suburbs was alarming. 

Movie night? Check.

Blanket and pillow fort? Check.

Three excited kids fighting sleep as the TV flickers in front of them? Check. 

Hot elven boyfriend staying the night? Not quite. 

Soon enough, the boys lost their uphill battle with their own weary bodies. While they didn’t fully comprehend the potential danger of what you’d prevented, the excitement of so many strangers coming to the house had worn them out. Your niece had been put back in her crib about twenty minutes after you’d resumed the movie. 

That left you alone with Kandomere, despite the two tiny bodies laying in their make-shift fortress of pillows and blankets. You didn’t dare look at him. For all you knew, he probably found this movie offensive. You knew Halloween was a human holiday linked to Samhain, which was a big holiday for elves. You’d heard plenty of elves complain about hating Halloween and about it being a watered-down version of Samhain. As the final credits finished rolling across the screen, the living room was engulfed in still and silent darkness. Kandomere was the first to break it.

“Seems a shame to move them,” he said, “They’re sleeping so well.”

You kept your silence, considering the options. The boys could sleep through the night in their pillow fort. That wasn’t the problem. But you had to deal with Kandomere. You had planned to sleep in the guest room, but you could hardly let him sleep in your sibling’s bedroom. That was simply too intimate a space for your coworker, who had met your sibling a total of two times, to spend the night in.

“They’ll be fine here. The guest room is made up. It’s the last door on the left,” you told him as you gingerly rose from the couch to avoid waking either of your nephews. 

Without saying another word, you gathered up the handful of cans and juice boxes scattered on the coffee table and made your way to the garage. You needed some privacy - just a minute of privacy - to collect yourself. The near break-in was bad enough, your nerves were too frayed to let you sleep tonight. Having to interact with your Kandomere after he rejected you was the gritty, bitter icing on an awful, lumpy cake. 

After gently placing the cans and cartons in the recycling bin, you braced yourself against the wall. It was covered in a layer of soundproofing material, which felt soft against your fingers. Your sibling had told you once that the previous owners were musicians and used to practice in the garage, hence the soundproofing. Screwing your eyes shut tightly, you inhaled deeply and exhaled in a huff. 

Your frayed and frantic nerves, aggravated by the night’s earlier adrenaline, ensured that you heard Kandomere’s footsteps approaching from the hallway. You hadn’t turned the light on, so you couldn’t see him. It was childish, but you harbored a dim hope that he wouldn’t speak to you.

“We need to talk,” he murmured.

“No, we don’t,” you countered.

“Y/n,” he chided, “I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

“Like what?” you retorted, “There’s nothing between us. Which is why I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“That’s not quite true, and you know it,” He sighed, grimacing.

“Really? I’m surprised we even have a work relationship anymore given how hard you’ve been avoiding me Kandomere.”

You couldn’t see his face in the dark, but his voice wavered enough to tell you that your words hit their mark. Hurt lingered in his tone when he answered. 

“I owe you an apology. I handled it poorly. But I’m here because I - I heard the call and had to see you. I care about you, and I had to know you were okay.”

“Didn’t take you for the kind of man to make the same mistake twice,” you hissed. There was less venom in your voice than you’d intended, but you still weren’t proud of it. 

Instead of replying, you heard him draw closer. You could feel warmth rolling off him as he neared, despite the general chill that always lingered in the garage, which was less insulated than the rest of the house despite the soundproofing. 

His lips crashed into yours as his arms wrapped around your waist. You wanted to argue - this was just as bad an idea as it had been weeks ago in your apartment. But you found yourself leaning into his embrace instead of pushing him away. Finally, you tore your lips from his, panting breathlessly into the nape of his neck. 

“The mistake was mine. I should have been more honest with you about my feelings. But I was worried you’d put in for a transfer or file a complaint.” he whispered, not loosening his grip on your waist. 

His words brought you out of the reverie of his touch and back to reality. How could he possibly not know?

“Kandomere, you’re not actually my boss. You lead the MTF, but I don’t actually report to you. I was appointed by a completely different division of the FBI.”

He blinked, as if to clear his eyes from some intrusive debris. They glinted like stained glass in the dim light spilling in from the corridor leading into the house.

“What do you mean?” he rasped. 

“We work in two different departments of the FBI. The MTF is part of the Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services branch. I was appointed to the MTF to represent the intelligence branch, and I still report to that side of the agency,” you explained. 

“So, you don’t actually report to me at all?” He quizzed, pinning you with a sharp, serious gaze that made you feel something like a butterfly pinned to a display.

You nodded. 

His features broke into a wide grin. His teeth - sharp and glinting in the dim light like ice under moonlight - were fully visible. In a flash, his weight settled against yours and sent you backward a few inches until you were leaning against the wall. 

“This isn’t any less of a terrible idea than it was in my apartment,” you whispered as his lips descended on the soft, delicate skin beneath your jaw.

 “Actually, it’s an even worse idea because there are three children in this house.”

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet,” he teased, and put his warm, deft fingers over your mouth before attacking the waistband of our jeans with his other hand.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hurricane (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.1k Warning: Small bit of cussing Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

A/N: This series was inspired by an anon prompt request for “protection”. I hope I did it justice! This is a multi part story.  ALSO I love Gatsby and Fitzgerald and so self-indulgent in this chapter 🤣

________________________________________

Once Becca and Ethan brought order back to Naveen’s kitchen, she bounded back into the dining room with a bottle of pinot noir in each hand for them all to share much to everyone’s elation. Ethan hung back during the first bottle, opting to gather blankets and towels for the guests. 

The group of gossips played card games and continued letting the conversation flow as freely as Naveen’s hand. Running out of hospitable things to keep him occupied, Ethan poured himself a generous glass and observed the people around him. With much convincing from the group he eventually gave in to the pressure and joined the game of ‘Bullshit’. When that got boring they moved rooms in the name of tranquil comfort. 

They all sat in the living room watching Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby as the storm raged on outside. Naveen was quick to make sure everyone had copious amounts of wine and cheese before retiring to bed. Without the scrutiny of his father figure Ethan felt he could be a little more carefree. 

Under the cover of darkness Ethan let himself drape his arm behind Becca against the back of the love-seat, making sure to keep his touch a distance away, the soft cushions dipped under the weight of his muscle. She felt the warmth of his presence along the base of her neck. The short invisible hairs stood up at the electricity emitting off him, igniting her senses in the best possible way. Becca smiled to herself, moving a bit closer to him so their sides were completely touching. She leaned into him just enough that the fabric of their clothes were pressed flat against the other.  

Her eyes darted around the dark cabin. Elijah had moved from his wheelchair and to the edge of the three-seater sofa. Sienna sat next to him in the middle and was now lounging out over Naveen’s deserted seat with a throw pillow cuddled deep in her small embrace. 

The coast was clear. Everyone was too engrossed in the film to pay any mind to the diagnosticians on their left. 

Boldly, Becca rested her head gingerly on the curve of Ethan’s shoulder. Her friends were none the wiser. 

Pushing their luck a bit further Ethan slid his arm closer to her shoulder blades. She reciprocated their game by placing a hand carefully on his muscular thigh. 

Ethan’s enchanting blue eyes did their own quick survey of the scene to make sure Sienna and Elijah were still oblivious. When he was certain her friends were too caught up on the imagery, Ethan cupped his free hand over hers. The corner of Becca’s lips noticeably perked as she laced their fingers together. 

“I love this story,” she whispered into his ear. 

“Why? It’s a tragedy. There is not one likable character in the whole plot,” he whispered back.  

“That’s what makes it so compelling. They’re flawed and real.” 

Before Ethan could rebuke, her favorite line was about to be said. 

“Gatsby? What Gatsby?” she mimicked looking over to Ethan. 

Her eyes held the same adoration reflecting from Daisy Buchanan’s character. It was hopeless and all-consuming, fiery and full of… something Ethan couldn’t place. All he knew was when that line fell delicately off her tongue he couldn’t help but parallel the feeling of him and Becca being the only two people in the universe. Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her. That one smile full of eternal reassurance and pride, making it as if his whole world revolved around her in that soulful moment. A glimpse into who Ethan was and not who Dr. Ramsey needed to be.  

Becca was mere inches away. One movement and it would all be over. Her eyes flickered down to his lips and back to the large television screen, ever so enchanted by the modern classic playing out before them. Ethan was thankful for her lack of focus. He let out the breath he was holding in he held onto her hand just a bit tighter. 

As the evening passed on Ethan let himself fall a bit more into comfort. 

For a brief moment he thought maybe, just maybe, everything could be this simple. They could be together and the people in their lives could all know, and no one would care. No careers could be in turmoil by the mere mention of their romantic relationship. 

No politics. Just love. 

Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works. 

Ethan was far too well-versed in cynicism to let himself fall any further than this moment. Holding hands in the darkness was all they could ever have with others around. He let the moment last, trusting her word that her friends wouldn’t destroy their ephemeral happiness. 

No, that was destined for them. 

Once the credit scene began to roll Sienna was the first to disturb the peace. 

“Come on I think it’s time for bed,” she sat up and tapped a dozing Elijah on the shoulder. 

Sienna dared to glance over at the love-seat - doing a double take to make sure it was really, truly happening before her very eyes. There in the warm glow cascading off the television was Becca curled up against Dr. Ramsey. Ethan was cradling her against him with his right arm securely at her waist as his left held up a book. He began reading the closest literature he could find towards the end of the film when he was sure Becca was asleep and wouldn’t castrate him. Neither diagnostician made an attempt to move. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Elijah agreed, lazily moving back into his chair while Sienna made sure to put the pillow back where she found it. “Night Becca, Dr. Ramsey,” he called as Sienna wheeled him to their room for the next few days.  

“Goodnight, Dr. Greene. Trinh,” Ethan acknowledged without breaking focus on his book. 

Once the friends were safely in their room with a click of the door Ethan began to migrate, casting the book aside and reaching for the remote on Becca’s armrest to shut the television off. 

“No,” she whined as his small motions rock her gently to disturb her slumber. 

With a smirk Ethan scoffed, “You’re basically asleep.”

Becca grumbled back as she threw her arms over her eyes, “I don’t care.” 

Ethan took the challenge and swiftly rose to his feet. Becca’s cheek immediately met the crater in the cushion as she flopped down without her supporter. 

“Hey!” her objection was partially muffled by the old paisley printed cushion.  

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle at his resident. Her legs were still awkwardly folded under herself and he’d imagine they’d at least be tingly with pins and needles by now, she still had her jeans on and her top exposed the pale skin of her midriff, and her brown locks were wildly strewn about. With a bemused shake of his head he brought the remainder of the dishes into the kitchen. 

When he came back Becca hadn’t moved an inch, her body still lolled to the side where he was previously sat. 

In four long strides Ethan was back in front of her. Becca heard his shallow footsteps yet was too comfortable to acknowledge his presence. Suddenly the couch flew out of under her and Becca was in free fall. Before she could open her eyes taut muscle and bone made contact with her rib-cage. 

Ethan had slung her over his shoulder. 

“Ethan!” she hissed. Normally Becca would appreciate the delicious view of this new position however the generous amount of wine mixed with the blood rushing to her head was not working in her favor.  

“Shush, you’ll wake everyone up.” Becca’s bottom jiggled from Ethan’s playful smack. 

She argued back, “You woke me up!”  

“It was that or have a stiff neck tomorrow,” Ethan began to rationalize as he took each step carefully so as to not to lose his balance. “And I’m not dealing with your complaints.”

Naveen’s master bedroom was large with glorious vaulted ceilings and exposed wooden beams. It was much too big for one person. Keeping with the cabin theme, the bed was wooden with four tall posts, the outer wall was lined with windows looking out over the river, and the adjoining bathroom led right into a modest yet bare walk-in closet. 

Ethan placed Becca down on the soft springform mattress conscientiously. She reveled in the waft of cinnamon and cedar of the quilt and deep red cotton sheets. Becca appreciated how Naveen also had an affinity for pillows - four medium firm and two down were waiting patiently for her noggin. Becca was too enticed by sleep to rummage for pajamas in her bag. Instead she began to unbutton her jeans haphazardly from her horizontal position. 

Ethan watched as she fumbled continuously, not quite grasping the button enough to pop it through the hole. After the fourth try he swatted her hands away, taking the reins. Ethan expertly flicked the button, dragged the zipper down and freed Becca’s legs from the thick day-ridden material. She sighed as the cool air met her clean-shaven skin. Her toes then hooked and flicked off her socks while she sat up and pulled her shirt off.  

 Sitting cross-legged on top of the duvet in just her nude bra and purple lace panties she asked, “Staying or going?” 

Her jeans were now folded on top of the wardrobe where Ethan stood with a cocked eyebrow, “What do you think?”

BOOM! 

A close clack of thunder rattled the wood causing them both to jump. 

CLACK! 

TSS

“Fuck!” she screamed in exasperation as quietly as she could. “Do you think a tree fell?” 

“Rookie, are you scared?” 

“No. I’ve been through loads of hurricanes,” she asserted, moving up the bed to crawl safely under the covers. “There's just a lot of wood around here. One wrong bolt and we’re all up in flames.” 

Ethan perched himself at the edge of the bed next to her nearly nude form. “I highly doubt that will happen.” 

“But it could happen.” 

“Theoretically.”

The covers sat around Becca’s waist. Her supple curves of her exposed breasts called to him. Ethan began to reach for her but the rational doctor did all he could to stop himself from caressing the addictive skin. Instead his hand rested on her inner thigh, just the thin duvet separating their warmth. Her hair was a frizzy halo around her rounded face and her lips stained deep indigo from all the red wine. And yet she was still - always, so beautiful. 

She watched as his eyes trail over her and his chest rose and fell a tad quicker.   

“You should stay. I know you want to.” 

“You know I can’t.” 

“You know they already think we’re dating anyway.” 

Ethan was taken aback at the brazen accusation but not enough to remove his hold on her, “We are doing what?” Instinctively his calloused fingers tightened their grip slightly. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she all but rolled her eyes at his idiocy. After a beat, her brown eyes fixated on his expert hand, she added, “Ethan… are you single?” 

Her small voice was full of shaken vulnerability. She yanked the covers up higher, releasing his hold on her, and curled herself further into them, shielding herself from his answer. Or lack thereof, there were too many seconds hanging in the space between them.  

He reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear. The wait was killing her. 

“No… I’m not.” 

Those words. Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? She couldn’t recall anything other than him at this moment moving in closer to her. Their noses brushed every so slightly, his affirming and hopeful words lingering warm against her flushed cheeks. 

“Stay,” she breathed. 

The way she was imploring him could crumble the Great Wall of China. Every ounce of Ethan’s resolve came crumbling down as he finally admitted his feelings to the universe. He thought she knew by now how he was irrevocably hers without words needing to be shared. Dr. Ethan Ramsey would continue living a solitary life until he could freely be able to love Dr. Rebecca Lao and without fear of completely destroying her bright future. 

Ethan wanted so badly to dive into the covers with her and never come back up - her sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. But the little voice in the back of his head told him not to cut the line just yet.  

“Only until you fall asleep,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t want Naveen thinking we were being indecent in his bed. He’d never let me hear the end of it.” 

________________________________________

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