#i could talk about how alive her music feels all day

[byfulcrums]

So I went to the Lolla Palooza for Aurora today and it was amazing. I was so happy. That woman is amazing, I love her. She's so cool and her music is so?? Alive??? Not many artists have that. It was so good and I loved every single bit of it

Honestly, I could've gotten shot right there and I wouldn't have cared. And I'm being serious

I was feeling like shit. My head hurt, my legs hurt, my foot hurt and I was tired as fuck because I didn't sleep well. But I didn't give a fuck because I was like I'm going to see Aurora! That makes me happy even if i'm miserable right now!

Since it was a Lolla Palooza, she wasn't the only person doing a concert there, so it was pretty short (one hour, and I arrived late) but we stayed there for the other artists too. And the music was so loud it made my ears hurt. I was overstimulated, about to cry and feeling even worse than before but I never (not even once) said that I wish I hadn't come. I was like “I want to leave” all the goddamn time but never “I wish I didn't come” because Aurora was there and she made all that shit worth it

[theplotdemandsit]

When Five finally makes it back home with his siblings, finally makes it back to the right timeline, he finds he’s still holding his breath. 

“Is it really over?” He thinks out loud. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” comes Luther’s response. 

So they do. And everything seems…normal?

But as much as Five wants to sleep for ten days straight, he can’t help but feel on edge. He spends his time visiting each sibling, popping in for dinners or briefly making sure they haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary. One day Allison asks him if he actually wants there to be an approaching apocalypse. His eyes fall onto Claire who’s catching him up on High School Musical the Musical the Series.

“No,” he answers. “I really don’t.” 

They make time for family dinners every Sunday. They still bicker and maybe swing some fists every now and then, but everyone is fast to apologize and laugh again. With room to breathe again without high stakes, the hurt finally begins to heal. They had been family before, but it slowly begins to feel like a real family. 

And for the first time, they really get to know each other. For all the crap they gave Luther about the moon, they listen as he shares the misery and loneliness and betrayal he felt. Allison describes her time as a Black woman in the 60s without her voice. Literally. Viktor tells them about what it was like growing up powerless only to end the world twice. How he lost his memory and found the one he loved only to lose that too. 

Klaus manifests Ben (who is still a ghost but as alive as he could get) and together they tell of their adventures growing up and the cult Klaus accidentally created. In between laughs, they also learn about Klaus’s harrowing experiences with drugs and death.

And Five? He has over 40 years of stories, and at first he doesn’t want to share any of it. His time in the Apocalypse, his time in the Commission, murdering for the sole purpose of survival in order to get back to his family—it’s not a side to him he wants his family to know about. 

But at the same time for reasons he can’t explain, he does want them to know. For the first time, he wants to talk to his family, the family he worked tirelessly to save. 

Little by little, he does just that. Every now and then he will start a sentence with, “Back in the Apocalypse…,” during dinner or his visits with them. Silly ones at first, like the time he had the nasty Twinkie. The time he sang all the Beatles songs he could remember and pretended he was having a concert. The time he found Umbrella Academy action figures and reenacted missions with them. 

When it’s just him and another sibling, he starts sharing some of the hard stuff too.

He tells Allison how he starved during his first winter alone and hallucinated that she had helped him find food. When he woke up he found himself in a storage house full of canned goods and bawled his eyes out.

He tells Diego about the first time he killed someone. How the scariest thing was that he wasn’t shaking. 

He tells Viktor how he sometimes still wonders if he deserves everything he got for messing with time in the first place. How he’s afraid that one of these days he’ll wake up and be alone again.

He tells Klaus about the time he thought about giving up and ending it all. 

He tells Luther about Dolores. About how even though he knew he was crazy for talking to a mannequin, Dolores was the better part of him that salvaged his sanity.

He tells Ben (and Klaus, by default) that his biggest regret is not being there. That he tries not to think about how things might have been different if he’d stayed.

Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, the tension eases from his shoulders. He stops worrying so much about the world ending and how to keep everyone alive. Instead, he spends his time going to the park with Claire, helping Diego and Lila with the babies, having midnight food outings with Klaus, and listening to Viktor play his music.

At their weekly family dinner, Luther tells Five he has a present for him and pulls out a box of Twinkies, saying, “I know you want to try one.”

Five gives him a practiced glare and says, “I would rather swim in a pot of boiling oil.”

Before, his family might have stared at him like he grew two heads, but now they laugh and think his retort is hilarious. Luther opens the box and pulls out a bag of marshmallows instead, and Five can’t help but crack a smile. 

One day they ask him what his plans are—what’s next for the oldest sibling.

Five warms his hands on a hot mug of coffee. “I’m tired of thinking about the future,” he tells them. “Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.”

That earns him plenty of “aww”s and “You’re such a softie, Five.” He waves them away and tries to duck out of their hugs, but they get him in the end. And even if he could teleport, he doesn’t want to.

He hadn’t been looking for happy, but he found it anyway.

Now cross-posted on Ao3 under the same handle!

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Once Upon A December

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Of all the things your heart used to know, things it years to remember, Bucky Barnes is at the top of that list.

A.N. - I feel like you guys just haven't been made aware, but one thing about me, I love a good musical.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Anon's Birthday Celebration

Bucky softly swallows the air that seems to get more sparse as he thinks, truly thinks, about his latest conclusion. "I just - I think it's time."

His hands fold together, he hunches over, barely able to tear his eyes off the ground.

"I can't tell you what to do here, Buck."

"I know."

"Do what you think is best."

"Best?" He bitterly chuckles. "There is no best. I just - I'm hurtin' the both of us by holding on. And I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I feel so guilty every time I look at her." Bucky lightly gasps for air. "And God, I - Sometimes, I think that maybe that's the reason I'm the only one she doesn't remember."

Steve grips Bucky's shoulder, "Buck... it wasn't your fault."

"How do I let her go?" Bucky brokenly whispers. "How do I mourn the love of my life when I know she's right there, she's alive?"

Steve finds himself at a loss for words. There was no answer. Nothing he could say. It was a truly impossible situation. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head, clearing his throat, "I should go talk to her."

"I think she was in your - in her room."

Bucky winces at the correction. It wasn't their room anymore. Now, it was your room. He'd given you the space to try to regain that void in your memory.

And yet, it's all so painfully familiar. It's muscle memory. Walking to your room. Knocking on your door. The only difference is now, it doesn't feel like coming home, it feels more like the procession to his own funeral.

"James..." Your tone is flat, unsure as you open the door. He hates the guilt glistening in your eyes. He sees it every time you look at him. He hates that he's the one that made you feel that way.

When it first happened, when he first realized that he was nothing but a blurry figure dancing through your memory, he tried telling you.

He tried filling every detail of your epic love story in your mind. He tried forcing himself back into your memories. Nothing brought back the look of love and adoration in your eyes.

He offers a heavy smile, "Hi. Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping away from the door to allow him into his former home. The place looks the same, with the notable exception of the traces of him.

You settle on the couch. He sits on the small loveseat, perpendicular to you. "How are you?"

He licks his lips, offering a small shrug, "I start therapy in a few days again."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

Your voice is far more curt than you intend, "I didn't remember anything if that's what you're asking."

His heart stammers, "No. That's not what I meant."

"Sorry, I didn't sleep very well. Not that it's an excuse."

"Nightmares?"

"Just the same one." You're not sure how much detail he cares to hear, but the way he waits for you to continue is almost a comfort. Your eyes squeeze shut as the memory plays on a loop. "I - I don't remember the mission. Just bits and pieces. I was alone. On the rooftop. And then I see the HYDRA agent's face. When they push me. That's where the nightmare starts... I fall. It's dark. I can hear someone screaming my name. And it's over."

"You weren't alone on the roof."

"What?"

"I was on the roof with you. We were scoping out the area. They came out of nowhere."

Your eyes widen. It clicks. The sound of the voice screaming after you. It almost perfectly matches the timbre of his voice. Only now, his voice sounded strained, tried. "You were screaming my name."

Bucky nods, "I jumped after you. I didn't make it in time. I found you laying in your own blood."

"I'm sorry, James."

He hates the sound of his name so formal leaving your mouth. He can't help himself as he speaks, "You never used to call me that."

"Oh?"

A sad smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth, "You only called me James when you were upset. Or when I was annoying you."

A light chuckle leaves your lips, "What did I call you when you weren't annoying me?"

"Bucky. Buck." He shrugs. He swallows the knot forming in his throat, his voice wavering, "A lot of pet names. I pretended to hate it, but I didn't."

You look up to see tears shining in his eyes. His voice breaks as he continues on, "You called me Sarge when you were joking or being flirty."

You reach forward, squeezing his hand. A tight knot forms in your throat, "I'm sorry I can't be the girl you remember."

He looks down at the warmth of your hand resting on his. He's acutely aware that this is the first time you've initiated contact with him since you forgot him.

He swallows back his tears, "You didn't take off your ring."

"It didn't feel right to." You start sliding the ring off, "I should probably give it back."

He immediately stops you, "Keep the ring."

"Steve said it was your mother's. I couldn't."

He shakes his head, his heart clenching with pain, "I won't need it."

You rest your hand on your chest. Your heart yearns to remember him, to remember his place in your life. It was right there. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. You could feel the memory of him glowing in the recesses of your memory, glowing as dim as an ember.

You were so close, and yet, it wasn't enough. "I want to remember. I so badly do."

He stroke a stray hair out of your face. Sitting this close to you, he takes a long moment to memorize every detail. The slope of your nose. Your eyes. Your lips. He knows he'll never be this close to you again.

He had to stop hurting you. He had to stop hurting himself.

"I know."

You rest your forehead against him. It feels both so foreign and so familiar all at once.

"Can I - Can I kiss you?" he asks. "Just one last time."

You nod, your heart shattering at the sound of the hurt in his wavering voice.

His flesh hand rests against your cheek. Your breath shudders, dancing across his lips. His nose brushes against yours. Once. Twice. You find yourself leaning forward, closing the distance. His lips brush against yours hesitantly at first. You can't help but notice the way they mold against yours perfectly.

The song that vaguely echoed in the back of your mind gets louder and louder, echoing with thoughts of him. The memory of him rattles against your skull, begging you to remember.

Your hand moves from its place on the cushion to his shoulder. Slowly, it creeps down to rest just above his racing heart. You hum against his lips, pulling yourself away from him.

You look up at him, your eyes shining up at him like they once used to. "Bucky?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Anon's Birthday Celebration

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[starkeyisthelastname]

Hi! Could you do Rafe x virgin!reader where she wants to do it but she’s scared bc all her friends said it hurts and also bc rafe is big. He talks her through it (smut please🫶🏽)

(I picture Rafe in this as at the party in season 3 episode 7 🥵)

You sat on the edge of the king bed in what you assumed to be the master bedroom. The music from the party outside, could still be heard as you waited patiently for the man who told you to go upstairs. You couldn’t deny the fact you were nervous as you didn’t know exactly what was about to happen. All you knew was that you and the party host had been flirting with each other from the moment you arrived.

You had met Rafe working as a cart girl at the Island Club. The attraction there from the moment your eyes locked. He was gorgeous but intimidating. Your friends telling you to stay away from the troubled boy. His sex was rough and was painful as he showed no mercy to any of his partners in the bedroom. His size also part of that. You had never talked to him much, only occasional flirty glances and a hello. But the day he came in with his hair buzzed, sporting a whole new look, had you wanting him more than ever.

Which is how you found yourself in the master bedroom of Tannyhill at the party he had invited you to. Small talk, and red solo cups full of alcohol, had him asking you if you wanted to go upstairs. With a little bit of liquid courage, you nodded, ignoring the fear in the back of your mind. You were still a virgin and Rafe Cameron was most likely about to take it.

The bedroom door opened, making you look up to see Rafe walking in, the lock clicking behind him. You swallowed the lump that was in your throat, the funny feeling in your tummy coming back as you looked up at him. “Is uh.. everything okay?” You asked, watching him stand in front of you. His light eyes, raked over your body which was barely covered by the tiny pink bikini.

Nodding, he stepped closer. “Yeah.. yeah.. everything is good.” He scratched the back of his head as if he was hesitant. “Mind if I tell you something?” He asked, glancing at you as to wait for your reaction. “What is it?” You asked, your voice barely audible as you felt his presence close in on you.

Your eyes focused on his, the magical looking blue now turning a dark color. “I absolutely want to ruin you.” He said lowly, smirk on his face.

Your fears came alive the moment he stripped of his swim trunks, the monster everyone had warned you about was now right in front of your eyes. He had taken his time with his thick digits and amazing tongue before telling him that you were ready. You were certainly wet enough after cumming for him, the bikini you wore, across the room as you laid naked. The man before you now completely nude, standing between your legs.

He helped you bend your legs back, knees resting against your chest so that he could see the pretty view. He ran the tip along your soaking folds, watching your body tense up immediately in nerves. “Hey, relax. Yeah? Look at me.” He told you, your eyes falling on his. Pushing in, the burning stretch had you wincing in pain as you felt just how huge he was. He let out a groan, eyes rolling back as he pushed through your tight cunt.

“You.. are so big.” You whimpered, gripping the sheets, the pain slowly subsiding to turn into pure pleasure. You looked down to watch his length disappear inside of you, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. His thrusts sped up, toned abs flexing and mouth open as he began to pound into you. You were soaking his cock, your cream at the base of his dick when he pulled back.

“I’m stretching this virgin pussy open, aren’t I?” His breath shallow as he hit something that was making you feel funny. “Such a good girl. Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

You gasped, your cunt clenching the more he spoke. The way this man was making you feel like you were on cloud nine just with his dick had you on the verge of exploding. “Ruining you for anybody else. Got that? Making you fucking mine.” He told you, his face nothing but serious as he made sure you looked directly at him. All you could do was nod lazily completely hypnotized by him and his dick, coming undone as you did something you had only ever seen in a porn video which was squirt like a geyser all over him.

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Princess Treatment ✬

✰ 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ✰

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

"Show Me What Color You're Wearing Again" your voice echoing through the phone speakers.

Paige huffed at your question, fixing the color of her burnt orange button-up. She had been ready to go 30 minutes ago, yet your indecisiveness slowed down the process of her leaving out the door.

"If you want me to change just say that" Her face scrunched up, beaming through your phone screen propped up on your vanity.

"No! don't be such a teenager, I just want to make sure our colors match" color coordination was important to you, especially for a day like this. It had been 3 weeks too long since you two last saw each other. The words "summer break" meant the complete opposite for Paige, her schedule was overly hectic, to say the least, you couldn't recall the last time she stayed in one place for more than 24 hours.

"Awh baby you wanna match with me?! I feel so honored" she teased, twirling the lonesome braid stitched in the front of her hair.

"You've been influenced by KK way too much, don't ever do that again please" The feeling of cringe shivered down your spine.

Throwing her hands up in self-defense "It's whatever you want to make of it, just be ready when I get there" Hanging up quickly you were left to hassle with your thoughts

Ready for what exactly ?

You had no clue

The only information you were given was, to be dressed in nice attire within the next hour, although that was never enough time for you.

No complaints would slip from your mouth though, being tucked away in your condo all alone for weeks drained the life out of you, it felt as if the days were all mushing together, repeating in an endless loop.

You were desperate for a change.

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

Swinging open the door, you were met with Paige dressed in all her glory, before you could analyze any further, your body flung towards her with an overlying feeling of excitement.

With arms naturally wrapped around your waist like a 2nd nature, every inch fit so perfectly.

"I missed you so much" Your voice trembled with emotion, taking in her aroma of sweet mahogany and amber. You felt her chuckle against your skin "I missed you more princess"

Releasing her from your death grip, you stepped back revealing the now flattened bouquet of flowers. Trying to stifle her laughter "Yeah um.. these were for you but don't worry bout it I'll get you some more" fiddling with the petals trying to make them look alive again.

Taking them into your grasp shaking your head "No it's okay, they're still beautiful" Looking up at her, your eyes met evenly, too evenly.

Breaking eye contact Paige glanced down at your orange heels that matched her outfit perfectly, "I knew something was off, no way you're ever getting past 5'5"

"So you can make fun of my height, but when I tell you you're not 6ft it's a problem" tilting your head, arms crossed instantly waiting for her rebuttal.

"Lying in my face is insane, I'm actually 6'1 so ion wanna hear nothing!" putting up her "talk to the hand" notion. it was good to see her sassiness never left after all this time.

"Let's get going before the sun goes down" taking your hand gently placing it in hers.

"What's so important about the sun?"

"it makes life possible on earth"

"Paige!"

She laughed at her own antics "Just come on and you'll see" opening the car door for you, pulling down the seat to buckle you in. No matter how many times you told her you could do these simple tasks on your own, she insisted every chance she got. Deep down you loved it but she would never get that confession out of you, ever.

"Can I at least get a hint of where we're going"

"Nah, that would ruin the surprise. Just sit back and look pretty" Her hand patted your thigh "Here you can even play your own music" Pressing the Bluetooth button on the screen display.

Your eyes widened "Oh this must be serious, I never though I'd see the day you let me have the aux"

Paige was very serious when it came to her music, it was like touching a thermostat in someone's house, don't ever touch or change it.

"Alright just don't do too much and play that sappy shit" her eyes adverted to you "You know what I'm talking about"

"You're my biggest hater"

"At least you know I'm the biggest" a smug smirk plastered at her face.

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

After a smooth 20-minute drive, pulling into an empty parking lot accompanied by a movie theater, but not just any movie theater. This is where you and Paige first met 5 years ago. Dating all the way back to late 2019.

Hopkins high school girls basketball team decided to take a trip to see the new movie "Us" on a cool Thursday night before they played their next opponent the following Friday.

You on the other hand had picked up a quick shift that night as a ticket holder. The night was slow until the entire in swarmed in gathering around the glass you stood behind.

Nobody caught your eye except Paige. She was talkative, very talkative. She sweet-talked you so well, the entire team got in for free.

She promised she'd make it up to you, 5 years later it's safe to say she did just that.

Surrounded by hundreds of fairy lights and different variations of flowers, roses, tulips, lilies, you name it. The sun shined on them perfectly projecting their vibrant colors.

Parking the car swiftly, you looked at her, tears threatening to form in your eyes. She quickly noticed, swiping a tear that had begun to fall. "Baby don't cry, we haven't even done anything yet" she pleaded, hopeful you'd abide.

"I know but, it's just so beautiful" you sniffled, glancing out the window once more. Eagerly you unhooked your seatbelt wanting to emerge into the theater, before you could open the door Paige grabbed your wrist "Don't even think about it"

Opening the door your feet planted on the ground, following behind her, constantly looking down at the red rose-petal path that led you through the double doors of the theater.

Nobody else was in sight, besides the two of you.

"Where is everybody?" you questioned noticing how bare the concessions were.

She smirked grabbing a bag of popcorn freely "Ion know, probably at home"

There was no way to legally walk into an establishment unless you owned it, or in Paige's case, rented it out. Her humble traits would never allow her to admit her actions, especially when it came to money.

"Come on I already got your snacks for you, the movie is about to start" holding up an assortment of candy and your extra-large slushy you never end up finishing.

"What movie is it!?" your eyes searching at all the advertised posters of the new releases, there was entirely too many to count.

"Just come onn" she dragged, moving quickly down the empty rows of theaters. Following in her pursuit, the sound or your heels echoed through the hallow hallway, turning a corner Piage disappeared into a theater that glowed with a purple ambiance.

Slowly walking up the ramp to keep up with her, the purple glow became brighter, the lights beamed a deep purple, the screen displayed the Disney Pixar introduction you memorized all too well.

"The Princess and the Frog"

"My favorite!!" gushing with excitement you found yourself nearly toppling over your girlfriend. "i never seen this on the big screen before, how'd did you do all this?.. and the- the purple lights it's so beautiful"

She laughed softly at your reaction, stroking your hand in small circles motion "It's only right I do something special for my special girl"

"You're so cornyyy" you laughed pulling her into a sweet kiss. Pulling away her demeanor switched, becoming slightly nervous. "You okay? if you're gonna complain about my lipgloss again I'll change it"

Paige shook her head "No no it's not that" Fumbling through her deep pockets, pulling out a purple heart-shaped velour box "I got you something, so when I'm away you''ll have something to keep with you" her tone soft as she placed the box in my hand.

You swore she could hear your heart pounding out of your chest if it wasn't for the movie beginning to play through the ceramic speakers. Without wasting a second more you opened the box, revealing a ring engraved in a crown, with purple diamonds in each curve, leaf-shaped, just like your favorite Disney Princess.

In awe you looked up at Paige, tears now falling freely, "This is beautiful Paige, I don't even know what to say" you choked.

Wiping your tears with her thumb, she lifted up her other hand revealing a ring placed on her thumb nearly identical to yours, crown-shaped fairly different with a lighter purple tint of diamonds in each wedge. "Every princess needs her prince right?"

Right

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 10

pairing: darkish!marvel ladies x fem!reader, wanda x reader, natasha x reader, kate x reader, yelena x reader, carol x reader, maria x reader

sumarry: you were kiddnapped, but a group of the mightiest herous will save your life and you can´t be more thankful

warnings: kidnapping, guns mentioned, little dark themes, kissing, touching, dirty talk, smut!!!, eating out, nickname "sir", catching somone having sex, voyeurism kinda, slight angst, wanda controlling your mind, and also reading your mind, group sex mentioned, ladies talking about planning on using you, knife play a little, little shitty writting, it takes forever to get into something, oopsies, if anything else - let me know!

word count: 7k

an: our last day! little crazy how time flies, we wont get into it or ill cry, but truly thank you for all the likes, reblogs, shares and comments! im giggling like a little girl, since few of my favs here commented or likes something soooo thank u!!!! sm!

an2: it was fun and chaotic at the same time! i love you all, stay safe and hopefully i wont dip away.:P

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this last spooky day and be safe!

You couldn´t see anything at all, the only sense you could count on right now is your hearing, which is not much of a helper. All you could hear is the engine running and some soft music playing in the front. 

You try to move, but your hands are tied together and so are your legs, trying to remeber what happened made your head hurt, so you quickly gave up on that.

After what felt like hours the car finally stopped. You open your eyes, but it is still pitch black, even when you hear someone open the doors, there is nothing in your sight. Then it hit you, you´re maybe in a box, that´s why it´s so hot and you can barely breathe here.

Trying to feel where you are is a good start and you were right, you are in a box. 

Someone opens the back of the car, and you feel that you´re finally moving, they put you down, which wasn´t the gentlest way, but since you´re tied up, these people probably don´t care about your well-being. 

"Open it," you hear an old man says. 

"Money first," this is someone else, someone who is standing right next to you, you´re still seeing pitch black and that is the most terrifying out of everything right now. Even if your try to run away, you don´t know where to, there could be fifty other guys standing there, so you´re in really shitty situation.

"No. I need to see if she´s alive and if it´s truly her." It´s the first voice again. 

"She is, now give me the money." 

What the hell is going on? They want my organs? But they wouldn´t want me alive? Or would they? Maybe they need the organs fresh, shit. My organs? 

Your overthinking is making your heart beat faster, than if you would run a marathon now. 

But is it really overthinking if this is the most possible outcome of this... deal? 

"I want to see her. I won´t give you shit, if I´ll found her dead inside the box." The man is clearly mad now. 

You can hear someone else coming, it sounds like a motorcycle. "Oh so you brought backup?" 

"Me? Stop fucking playing around." You can hear that both of them are unease, their voices are filled with anger and it´s just a question of time, when they will explode like a bomb. You´re hoping you won´t be the center of catastrophe. 

The motorcycle stops and you can hear someone re-load a gun. 

A gun? Holy shit. 

"Oh come on boys? What do you think you´re doing here, hm?" You can hear a woman speaking, her voice has a hint of smokiness and a certain level of strength, making it both captivating and commanding. It's a voice that demands attention and conveys a sense of experience and resilience. You could bet your life that you already heard this voice somewhere. 

You don´t really know what´s goining on, but you feel like they´re just pointing guns at eachother, at least that´s what you´ve imagined.

The lady chuckles. "You are all surronded, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide," it was a quiet for a little bit, after she starts to speak again, "I wouldn´t done that if I was you, see the red dots? Yeah I have backup. And yours? Already arested," she adds. 

Arested? Oh she´s from the police! Police! Yes! 

You can hear how someone is walking closer to you, but from a totally different way then you heard the people talk before. But that is the last think you think of, before you completly pass out. 

... 

Beep, beep, beep. 

Is all you can hear, before you can even open your eyes. You take a few deep breaths and with that, you slowly open them. The light isn´t as sharp as you thought it´s gonna be, so you blink a few times and your already adjusted to being awake.

Looking around give you an answer where you are, the hospital. All of your clothes are on the chair, packed in a plastic bag. So it must have ended good, the lady arested the bad guys and now you´re in the hospital, which isn´t your favorite place, but hey, you could be in a coffin now, so you see it as a win. 

You don´t even feel in pain, maybe you´re head hurt a little bit, but you´re used to it. You slowly trace your hand all over your body, but you think you´re all good. 

A person coming into your room pulls you out of your thoughts, as you look up at them, you notice is The Natasha Romanoff. One of The Avengers. One of the coolest people in the whole world! 

Your eyes widen at her standing next to you with a little smile on her face. "You´re finally awake, how are you feeling?" her voice was so soothing, you feel like she could bring you from dead if that was the case. 

As you observe Natasha´s outfit, you can't help but be drawn to her effortlessly cool and edgy style. She's wearing sleek, form-fitting black pants that hug her curves perfectly, adding a touch of boldness to her overall look. The pants highlight her long, lean legs, accentuating her confidence. Her choice of a white tank top underneath the black leather jacket is simple, it shows you just enough of her abs to let you know, that she could kill with them. 

"I- uh good. Great. Amazing." She chuckles at your answer. 

"So I assume the pills are working." She nods her head and sits on your bed. 

"Meds?" A noticable confusion is written on your face and Natasha speaks right away, to ease your nerves. 

"How much do you remeber, (Y/N)?" Natasha puts her hand on your forehead to check if you have a fever. 

"Um... I remeber being in a box and being scared," Natasha hums, "I also remeber having my hands and legs tied and I- uh remeber and then I just..." you shrug. 

"Okay." She nods again. "You don´t have to worry now, we took care of them and you´re safe." Natasha gives you a smile, that did make you feel way better. You knew she was a badass and pretty too, but in person? 

She´s stunning, how can someone be this perfect? Like it is not fair. 

"Althrough..." she sighs. 

"What? Althrough what?" 

"We´re not sure if they worked alone and knowing your status, we can´t risk you getting hurt again." She adds. 

"My status? I´m sorry, I have zero idea what you´re talking about." If you were confused before, then you don´t know what you are now. 

"Oh, detka. They did numbers on you." You could see the concern in her face. 

Numbers? On me? What?

"You were missing for few months and when me and the rest of the team found you.. you were unconsious. That was 2 weeks ago, we weren´t sure if you´ll wake up. But you did and that´s amazing news, but we need to make sure, that you are safe." Natasha takes your hand in hers. 

After that Natasha left you alone and you were trying to piece the things together, but everytime you tried, you got horrible headache. 

What status? Who- what? 

... 

During the first week, it was only Natasha who came to visit you. Each time you inquired about leaving the hospital room, she staunchly insisted that you should stay and rest. Even though you expressed your boredom and eagerness to step out of the room multiple times, assuring her that you felt better, she stood unwaveringly by her belief that you needed the rest after everything you had been through. 

She visited you everyday and you realized how sweet The Black Widow actually is and how much comfort she brings you in those confusing times. But you couldn´t help, but notice what her slight touches make you feel. Touching your forehead to make sure, you don´t have a fever. Touching your hand to get your attention or just putting your fallen hair behind your ear. 

She brushes your hair every morning, reads to you, she even brought you a coloring book, which always brought you some sense of comfrot. And if Natasha wouldn´t be the one who brought it out, you would completly forget that something as kidnapping has happened to you. 

... 

This morning Natasha is not alone, she softly knocks three times as she did each morning and then slowly walks in with another person behind her. 

"(Y/N), this is-" You cut Natasha off. 

"Wanda Maximoff!" You basically yell. "S-sorry, I just... I know who you are." You sligthly blush at the two women in front of you. 

Wanda chuckles. "That´s me. Pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)." She comes closer and shakes your hand, her hand felt incredibly soft, like a gentle caress of silk against the skin, inviting warmth and comfort. 

"You don´t know what happened to you, but you remeber all of our names?" Natasha laughs as she teases. 

"I mean..." you shrug. "You are The Avnegrs! So of course I know who you are." You look away from Natasha´s gaze. 

"Sorry, that was a stupid joke." Natasha put few fallen pieces behind your ear and smiles at you. 

"No, no. It´s fine, you had a great point there." You smile back at her.  The readhead nods. "I brought Wanda, becuase she will take care of you now, for few days, before the doctors will release you." Nat smiles. 

"Oh really? When I´m going home?" You were so glad you´ll be home soon. 

Wanda just send a quick eyebrow raise to Nat. 

"What?" You look between the two women in the room. 

"Detka, you will be released from the hospital wing, but we still can´t promise there won´t be anyone waiting for you outside, so we decided that you will spend some time here, in the compound." 

"Oh." Natasha´s words caught you off guard as you really don´t know what to feel now. You couldn't help but blush and feel a bit shy as you heard Natasha call you by that nickname, but at the same time her words made you a little sad, you still have to kinda locked up.. 

Wanda notices right away, without having to read your thoughts, that you weren´t really sure about this scenario. "But I promise I´m way more fun, than boring Tasha. We can read, play games and after you´ll be on your legs we can bake, cook, I can teach you how to play guitar and many more exiting things!" You smile, that does sound good, but what about all of your clothes and... other stuff you had to have, before that incident. 

"We can go shopping too!" Natasha sends Wanda a quick glare as a warning. 

"Well... better to be bored than dead, right?" You chuckle, but none of them even smiled at your joke, which was incredibly embarrassing. 

"Don´t joke about that, detka." It was the first time you saw Natasha actually mad. 

... 

You are finally off the hospital wing, Doctor Cho told you that you need to rest and if there is anything wrong, you can call her asap. At the end she is working for the Avengers and getting calls in the middle of the night isn´t something unusual. 

Being a week with Wanda was so fun, she told you all the stories from her life, you watched many sitcoms together and her cooking skills are amazing! Anything she cooked for you, you crave for some more. You´re really positive about her putting some drug in the deserts, because everything was just so good and addicting, it´s not even possible. 

You two also spent hours on online websites shopping, for your new clothes, boots and everything you needed. Wanda payed for everything of course. Even though she told you, "Don´t worry about it," you still feel bad for spending so much of her money. 

You´re currently waiting for Wanda, to walk with you to the main room, for you to meet the rest of the team. You were very nervous, but if Nat and Wanda were so nice to you and made sure you were safe all the time, you believe that the rest of the team is the same. 

"There she is!" Wanda comes to you, hugging you closly. Like any other day, she was warm and you feel even better. 

"Here I am. But I can take it-" You say as Wanda grabs the one plastic bag with your stuff. 

"None of that, malysh. You need to rest." 

"This weights basically zero zero nothing, I could-" You met Wanda´s eyes, "thank you for taking my bag." You smile. 

"That´s what I´ve thought, malyshka." These nicknames will kill you, sooner or later.  The two of you went to the living room, which was a two floors above you. The ride in the elevator was quiet and comfrotable. 

Bing. 

Wanda immedietly links your hands with yours, which you don´t mind it at all, it´s actually calming your nerves and she knows it very well. There is no need to read your mind, your body is speaking for you this time, with your relaxed posture and the little adorable smile on your face. 

"They are nice, but little... hectic and full of energy. If anything, let me know and we can go to the bedroom." Wanda smiles. 

"Thank you, WanWan," you smile back, if her and Nat can give you nicknames, you will think of something too. "I think I can manage, um... will Nat be there?"

Wanda smiles at her new nickname and then shakes her head, "Natasha is coming later tonight, you know, Avengers stuff." You simpy nod. 

You could hear the other teammates right away, but you hear only women´s voices. You were honestly glad. Not like you don´t like the male Avengers, but... they are still males, so you already felt more comfortable knowing there are only bunch of ladies. 

Wanda opens the door for you and walks right behind you. "Ladies, I´d like you to meet someone, someone very special, so please don´t attack her with questions or any other... things." She giggles and you look around and you feel like in a dream. 

Carol Danvers, Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova, and Maria Hill are all seated on a comfortable, oversized sofa, while Wanda still stands beside you. 

"Hai," you whisper as you awkwardly put your hand up in some sort of a wave. 

All you could hear was all sorts of greetings, "Hi! Hello! Oh finally, hey!..." The sudden outpour of warmth takes you by surprise, and you can't help but blush and offer a shy smile in response to their overwhelming hospitality. 

"Easy, ladies!" Wanda quickly says. 

"Move, Maximoff." The Captain Marvel herself says as she stands up. 

"No. All of you are like a bunch of hawks and (Y/N) is tiny, not a chance I will leave her all alone in this." Wanda grips your hand tighter. 

You blush as you look at Carol. 

"Im Carol, nice to meet you, (Y/N)." She smirks at you. 

"I- I know... and you are Maria, Kate, Yelena," you smile as you point at each of them. 

Wanda giggles. "She is our big fan," she explains. 

"Ohh, is she?" Maria finally speak, "do you kow the rest of the ladies?" 

"The rest?" You look at her, not knowing, who is the rest. "You´re living here with everyone? Like everyone? Where are the guys?" you obviously have many question. 

"Most of us do, but sometimes there is a mission of world so-" Carol is cut off by Maria. 

"Don´t start with this bulshit, Danvers. Like you´re something special, just because you can travel to space..." The brown haired girl rolls her eyes. 

"I didn´t say I´m special, you did." Carol winks at her.  Wanda leans closer to you and whisper right into your ear. "This is a daily basis on here, you´ll get used to it," she giggles and so did you. 

"To answer your quiestion fully," Kate clears her throat, "all the ladies live here, all of us got room and it´s just like a never ending sleepover." Kate chuckles, she is probably the same age as you, or little older, which makes you feel better around everyone. 

"And no. There are no guys. Is that a bad thing?" Yelena says without zero emotion in her voice. 

"No! No, no, no! I mean I bet they are great, but I´m into girls. I mean... as a fact, I think you guys," you point at them, "just do it better. Way badass, smarter, faster, everything is just waaay better, you know?" you tried to save youself, but it didn´t work at all. Even Yelena has a slight smirk on her face. 

"You were right, Maximoff. She is cute." Yelena nods towards you and Wanda. 

"So you´re into ladies?" Kate smiles. 

"No, yes. I mean yes, but I didn´t mean it like that in the previous context," you answer her. 

"What was the context then?" Now it was Wanda speaking right into your ear. 

You are quiet for a second and then just shrug, "I guess i didn´t want to talk shit about the male Avengers." you chuckle. 

"Don´t worry, we won´t tell them." Kate laughs. 

"Well... if you know a lots of things about us, isn´t it fair for us to know little something about you too?" Carol sits on a couch next to Maria. 

"Go sit, malysh, I´ll bring you something to drink." Wanda sligtly pushes you towards the couch, when her hand leave your lower back, you already miss her touch. 

You sit between Kate and Carol, while Maria stares at you with a slight smirk. So you quickly look at the youngest Avenger, and you can already tell, that she´s really exited to talk to you and get to know you better. 

You sit nervously between Carol and Kate, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the attention. Carol leans back confidently, a smirk on her face. "So, what's your thing, hobbies, what´s your favorite food?" 

"Um, well, I like uh, reading. And I enjoy cooking as well." 

Kate is like a exited pupppy. "That's cool! Any favorite books? Oh, and, do you have a go-to pizza topping?" 

Wanda comes back with the water and place it on the table, giving Kate a stern look, "easy Bishop," then she sits on the chair right in front of you. 

"I love reading fantasy novels. And, for pizza, I'm a sucker for pepperoni." 

Maria and Yelena, watching you, listen intently, their interest evident in their expressions. 

Carol smiles, "That's awesome. We should have a cooking night together sometime. What do you say?" 

You and Wanda make eye contact "Well... I already planned that with Wanda, so..." 

"Oh really, Maximoff? We´re already calling dibs? That is not fair." Carol rolls her eyes. 

"Or all of us can cook together?" You smile at Carol. 

"Carol in the kitchen is the worst way of dying, so it´s a no for me." Yelena mumbles and leaves the room, Maria following closely behind. "Agreed."

"I can teach you! The simple things are not that hard, right Wanda?" 

The girl infront of you just sighs and nods, "Sadly it´s not." 

"Oh come on, don´t be so harsh on her, I bet it´s not that terrible... right?" You feel more and more comfortable with all the ladies around you. 

... 

"It´s not that terrible, right?" Wanda mocks you as you see flour flying, ingredients get mixed up, and the result is far from what the recipe intended. 

Wanda and Kate exchange amused glances, but they both maintain their composure, trying not to laugh. You, though, can't help but chuckle, as you didn't expect this level of chaos in the kitchen. 

Carol, with a sheepish grin, looks at her culinary creation. "I promise, I'm better at saving the world than making food." 

"You better be, Danvers." Wanda smirks as she smacks her dirty hand on Carol´s ass, leaving a white mark on her black sweatpants. 

"Oh you´re so in, Maximoff!" Carol turns around and runs for her, to get her revange. 

You and Kate burst into laughter, all in good spirits. Despite the kitchen disaster, the shared experience brings the group closer together. 

You jump on the messy kitchen counter, smiling from ear to ear. "That was... fun." 

Kate nods and turns to look at you, "yup." She moves closer to you and touch your nose with her finger from... butter? You guess. "But at least now you see why is Wanda doing all the cooking. Sometimes Nat, but mostly our witchy." Kate is being very close to you know, her hands resting on your thighs. 

"Fair point." You look down and blush, "maybe we should start cleaning?" 

Kate shakes her head, "Wanda does a little poof and everything is clean, don´t worry about that." 

"If Wanda survives." You point out. 

"True." Kate chuckles. 

"You have very blue eyes." You don´t know where this comment came from. 

"I do, yeah. And you have very y/e/c eyes, (Y/N)." Kate is now whispering. 

Nodding your head seem like the only good idea, since you don´t trust your voice at the moment. 

"Would you like me to show you around and maybe later show you my room?" Kate asks, while staring at you. 

"Oh are you flirting, Kate Bishop?" You roll your eyes at her. 

She tilts her head, "what? You have such a dirty mind, miss (Y/N). I am not flirting with you, you would notice if I would." She squeezes your thighs and step away from you, "you going or what?" She smirks at you. 

And with the most dramatic groan you jump off the counter and follow her through the compound. 

... 

After Kate showed you around, you were positive that you need a map, because there is no way you would remeber all the catacombs and shortcuts. No way. 

And final stop, Kate´s floor. Warm, soft light streams into the room from a string of fairy lights above the windows, creating a cosy atmosphere. In one corner, a leather chair and a sleek, modern desk scattered with papers from her most recent missions indicate her dedication as a superhero. A collection of classic bass guitars in another corner, all neatly organized. Her two worlds—the life of an skilled archer and the spirit of adventure of a young hero—combine in balance in the room. 

"Oh my god- it´s so cozy in here!" You smile as you look around, seeing all the bows and special arrows on the wall. "Wow," you mumble as your hand wants to touch her black bow with silver ornaments on it, "may I?" 

"Go ahead, I don´t use these." She smiles. 

Your finger traces those shapes up and down, but your attention switches into something else, many pictures on the wall made you giggle out loud, "No way! You have Halloween nights here?!" You look at a few pictures on the wall, but one catches your eye right away.  

As you gaze at the Halloween picture, you can't help but smile at the fun and creativity captured in the snapshot. In the center, Kate Bishop stands proudly, dressed as a demon, her costume is complete with horns, pitchfork, and an impish grin that perfectly matches her cocky spirit. 

To her left, Maria Hill is a regal Queen of Hearts, her costume rich in detail, from the heart-adorned scepter to the ornate, card-themed headdress, giving her an air of authority with a playful twist. That she has even without this costume. 

Beside Maria, Natasha Romanoff stands as the Queen of Spades, her costume exuding an air of confidence. Her attire is a perfect blend of elegance and danger, with a spade symbol adorning her crown. And of course, her one and only iconic smirk. 

Wanda Maximoff, on the other hand, adds a touch of the Wild West to the group as she confidently portrays a cowboy. Her fringe-trimmed jacket, wide-brimmed hat, and toy six-shooter holster create a vibrant, yee-haw Western charm. 

Carol Danvers, in contrast, takes on a divine role, embodying a goddess with her shimmering costume and ethereal accessories. Around her waist, a gilded belt cinches the gown, emphasizing her muscle figure. It is adorned with intricate patterns and symbols that hint at ancient mysticism. Her accessories are no less impressive – a tiara with sparkling gemstones graces her brow, and her wrist cuffs shimmer with a radiant energy. 

Finally, Yelena Belova channels her inner child (kinda) as she steps into the shoes of Lara Croft. Her outfit mimics the iconic video game character's attire, complete with dual holstered pistols, a utility belt. 

"You thought we´re boring or what?" Kate walks up behind you.

"A little bit." You admit, "but this looks so fun! I´m quite upset I´ve missed that." 

"Don´t worry, you´ll get an opportunity. But I´ll bite, what would you dress up as?" Kate voice sending shivers down your spine. 

"Hm..." you turn around, "I take Halloween very seriously, so..." you try to think. "Well since Wanda was a cowboy, I would go as a reversed cowboy. You know, put a little UNO reverse card on my head. It´s funny and also good effort." You giggle. 

"Oh, sweet sweet (Y/N), you´re wilder than I thought," Kate chuckles, "I like that idea, now I´m quite upset too, you would be such a fun to our little party." She winks. 

You´re stomach feels like it´s filled with butterflies, that are trying to get into your whole body. 

"You feel my flirting, huh?" Kate smirks again. 

"Oh shush, I don´t want to boost your ego." You want to turn around, but Kate grabs you by your waist. 

"You don´t need to, pretty girl." 

"Kate..." You´re glancing at her lips, then back into her blue eyes and then back on her lips. 

"Hm?" Kate knows and you know that she knows and that makes you even more frustrated. 

"I- I don´t know what to s-" you barely whisper. 

"Then don´t say anything, I´ve got you. It´s all good, you´re safe with me here, okay?" Kate whispers and with you nodding your head, Kate leans in and your lips connect. Her lips are incredibly soft. Second ego, you were shy around the archer, but now, you want more, you crave more. She´s holding your hips, her strong grip making you feel secured and that´s all it matters now. 

As you found yourself captivated by the enchanting presence of the Bishop girl, it was a moment of shared intimacy, and none among you were present enough to recognize the subtle observe of the Witch and Captain. The door had been unintentionally left ajar, providing an unanticipated point for the two observers. From their concealed perch, they had a front-row seat to the scene. This unintentional voyeurism presented a silent spectacle that would be etched in the memory of all involved, forever preserving that delicate moment. 

"Really? Bishop is the first one?" Carol whispers, and Wanda gazes at her with a mix of understanding and frustration. She senses the storm in Carol, and it resonates with her because she feels the same emotions. Deep inside, Wanda hoped she would be the first to share that intimate moment with you. She had been so close, with Natasha temporarily away, but fate had other plans, and Kate Bishop claimed the coveted position first.

"Look, Carol, she´s really into it." Wanda´s jealous thought disappears, as she sees you pulling Kate closer and slightly biting her lip. 

"How many weeks did Natasha said to wait? 8-9? And we will discuss it? I knew it was bulshit." Carol chuckles. 

Wanda smirks and takes a picture of you and Kate making out, sending it straight to Natasha, with a message on it 'What if our new plaything is not waiting?' 

After literally 5 seconds, Wanda´s phone lit up with a new message from Natasha, 'omw.' 

... 

After your pretty heavy make out session with Kate, everything was different around the compound. Kate was by your side almost every minute and the other girls were as well. Everyone but Natasha. You didn't know if you did something wrong or if she had just a lot of avenger's work, but you wanted her attention. 

“I wouldn't go there, right now.” Maria says as she somehow appears right behind you. 

You were just about to knock on Natasha´s door to her office. Due to Maria, you pull your hand away, “why?” 

“She´s just not in the right mood now.” The agent explains. 

“Well, me neither, so-” you turn around and knock three times. 

“You´re really stubborn, huh?” Maria chuckles and turns around, walking away. 

“I already told you that I don´t have the time for your-” you hear behind the door, until the door opened, “oh, it´s you.” Natasha´s voice went from raspy angry spy to nice Natty, who used to brush your hair every morning, when you have been in the hospital wing. 

“It´s me.” You smile a little and without another word you step inside her office. 

Natasha watches you; she tilts her head waiting for your next move. 

“I kinda invited myself, sorry. But I have a question.” You give her office a quick glance, nothing original, just a big modern office, with lots of paperwork everywhere.  

The view is special though, you can take in the lush expanse of the garden, every detail from the blooming flowers to the trees. And beyond the garden's beauty, the panorama stretches out to reveal the entire cityscape. Skyscrapers rise majestically, their windows reflecting the sunlight, while the urban landscape sprawls in all directions.    “I´m listening.” The redhead closes the door. 

“Did I do something wrong? Or... like why don’t we talk anymore? You barely look at me when you come into the room, I just- did I do something wrong? I know you have a lot of work because the people who tried to... you know, but uh- like what's going on, Natty?” The nickname slips out and you don’t even notice, but Natasha did, she always notices those small details. 

You can hear her sigh, that´s never a good sign. 

Shit. 

“Detka, sit.” She nods towards the chair in her office, and you quickly did so. “It´s not like I don’t want to talk to you, I do. But I just thought that you´re already taken and I do not mess into someone else's business.” That was a lie, another one, that you can´t catch on. 

“What do you mean?” You quickly mumble, feeling like a kid who did something bad, since Natasha is standing above you now. 

“You and Kate.”  

“We- we uh are not dating, if that’s what you're asking.” You blush. 

“I'm not asking, (Y/N). But I would appreciate if next time you would be honest with me.” Natasha turns around. 

“But I am! We are not dating, we- are just friends.”  

“Friends?” Natasha turns back to face you, looking down at her phone scrolling, trying to find a picture that Wanda send to her. “Is this what friends do?”  

Shit, where did she get the picture?! 

“I-” you can't find any words that would help. You feel horrible, even though you didn’t do anything wrong, or did you? 

“I need to work now, to keep you safe, remember? So... if that´s all, see you at dinner.” Natasha looks sad, incredibly sad in fact. She opens the door for you and without anything else you leave. 

After few minutes of standing behind Natasha´s door, you decided that you need to blow off some steam and the Avengers compound has everything, so some boxing and sauna after don´t sound like a bad idea at all. Even though you had a boxing class like once in your life, you´ll manage, at least that´s what you hope. 

… 

It was not actually that bad, you feel exhausted, but also little better, hoping that sauna will do the rest of the magic.  

What you didn’t know is that you're not the only one craving to ease your nerves there. 

As you open the door you see quite a pleasing sign in front of you, Carol Danvers eating out Wanda right in the sauna, where you wanted to rest. You are like a deer caught in the lights, before you can say anything, the witch notices you and smirk. 

“We have an audience, Captain,” she whispers between her moans. 

Carol turns her head, and her eyes meet yours, “wanna join?” the blonde one chuckles as Wanda slaps her hand playfully. 

You don´t answer, you´re too occupied staring at Carol´s well-defined arms, you can see her veins, which switch something inside you. 

“Earth to (Y/N),” Wanda chuckles, “would you like to finish me, malyska?” 

“N-no, sorry! Shit! I didn´t know that- you uh- it will be occupied!” and with that you run away. 

“She was staring at you.” 

“She was basically drooling.”  

“Oh please! Don't let it get to your head! 

“Do you want to cum or not?” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“Then shut your pretty mouth.” Carol smirks as she dives back into the witch´s sensitive spot. 

… 

“I didn’t know Carol and Wanda are dating,” you sip from your newly opened water bottle. 

“Um... they are not.” Kate looks at you. 

“I´m pretty sure they are,” small giggle is escaping your mouth. 

“How so?” The taller girl tilts her head, “I´ll bite.” 

“I found them in the sauna together!” You look at Kate, “and they were... you know...” 

“Naked? Well that´s usually the scenario in the sauna, (Y/N).” She laughs. 

“I mean yeah they were naked, but they were... being close, intimate!” 

Kate is obviously not catching what you're trying to say. 

“They were fucking, Bishop.” Yelena says as she enters the kitchen. “Carol has pretty high sex drive since she´s ‘off planet’ most of the time.”  

“Oooh!” Kate says as she understands you now, but she does not look shocked. 

“So, they are like friends with benefits kind of a thing?”  

“If you want to label it, then I guess.” Yelena shrugs and you blush, imagining what you have seen earlier. 

Carol and Wanda then enter the kitchen as well, you don´t dare to look into their eyes, but you can feel that they are staring at you. You can bet anything in the world that they are also smirking. “What´s for dinner? I'm kinda hungry.” Captain Carol says. 

“You´ve just ate, Danvers!” Kate says it in a teasing way, which makes Wanda giggle and Yelena smirk. 

“But I would still eat some more, what do you say Bishop, you up for it?” the blonde one tilts her head. But even the chuckle she lets out sounds like she means it. 

You are too stunned to speak or even move a little. You see Natasha and Maria coming to the kitchen as well, hoping one of them will save you from blushing and slowly melting away. The trained spy notices your shy behavior right away. “What did you do to our little one?”  

It´s like she pushes the small ‘argument’ you had away when she sees you struggling.  

“Nothing!” Wanda says. 

“Yet.” Carol ads. 

“She just caught Danvers and Maximoff fucking in the sauna.” Yelena explains. 

You instantly want to leave the room, not that you would be uncomfortable, but you can feel yourself getting too excited, just being with these women in one room is too much to handle, talking about sex? Seeing them have sex? You´re questioning how are you still alive. 

“Detka...” Natasha starts, all eyes are on you right now. 

“Hm?” Is all you can menage to let out, hoping it would satisfy all of them, but you´re wrong, shockingly, right? The Black Widow clears her throat, and your body automatically makes you look up at her. “I didn´t meant to, I just... wanted to use the sauna and Carol with Wanda were just there um-”  

“If I clearly remember Wanda and I were both inviting you, so I don’t see the issue here.” Carol smirks at Wanda. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks, hoping it will calm you down. 

“There was a moment that I thought you would join us, malysh. And I think that you do too, am I right?” The witch knows exactly what your thoughts were about, she´s pushing you to just admit it. 

“Um- no! No, not at all. No. I was- definitely not.” you shake your head more than you should, but you can´t help it. Trying to make it more believable, but you're failing, miserably. “Not that I think you don´t look great, you do! Your bodies were- are phenomenal! But uh-” 

You are cut off by Wanda slapping Carols hand, “I told you she was staring.” 

“And I told you, she was drooling,” Carol sends you a wink and you quickly look away from her. 

“Okay, ladies. Give her a second and you,” Natasha locks eyes with you, “how about we move to couch, you will sit down and take a few deep breaths, alright detka?” The redhead smiles at you as her soft hand touches you, leading you to the living room. You can just nod, but you're happy, because Natasha doesn’t look mad or upset anymore, actually there is this look in her eyes, you can´t quite point a finger what it means, but her eyes kind of shifted somehow. 

After a few minutes of Natasha saying sweet nothings, you calm down a bit, she whispers, “It´s okay to look, you know. No need to feel shy about it. Honestly, we all do appreciate a good compliment, especially from a pretty girl like you, (Y/N).” And there it is again; your cheeks are flushed, and your heart is beating fast again. 

“How about we all help? To make you feel better, that is what you want right?” Wanda comes in, her hands slowly massaging your stiff shoulders.  

“I- I don’t want to bother you, or like-” you stutter out, your mind being a little fuzzy, you just feel tingles all around you, in you, everywhere. 

“Shhh, we promised we will help you out, so just let us.” Wanda whispers in your ear. 

“Or not and we will find our way.” Maria finally speaks. “Besides, it would not be fair, Kate already had her time with you, and we all are good friends, we share things. That´s just how it works here.”  

You look at Kate, who's now standing in front of you, looking down at you with a smile on her face, that is telling you, that she does not have any regrets of throwing you into the cage full of hungry tigers. Infact, she looks like a kid on a Christmas Eve. Suddenly, your mind is craving any touch. 

What's going on? 

‘You want this, shhh, you´re safe. Everything is okay. Just enjoy this.’ 

I want this. So much. 

‘That is right, malyshka.’ 

Wanda nods, giving a signal to the rest of the girls. Kate immediately knowing what to do, she basically sprints out of the room to get some stuff from the ‘Avengers special room’, it´s not even a minute and she's back with some ropes, wand, few straps, and handcuffs.  

It´s your first time with them, so they don’t want to overstimulate you that much. Other toys for other days. 

Maria takes the ropes and starts to tie your hands together, putting them above your head, “Keep them there.”  

“Yes, -” you stop yourself and Maria raises her eyebrow, she knows that you wanted to use your manners and address her by a title, but your little messy head does not know which one to use. 

“Sir.” She smirks and you nod a little. 

“Yes, sir,” you give her a little smile, it makes so much sense, that this is her title. 

“Already being so good?” Natasha kisses your forehead, going to the kitchen and making sure she's putting the phone in a good place for the perfect angle of her little movie. 

Lots of things are happening and you feel people touching you all over your body. Hill finishes tying your hands together and she comes to Natasha, both of them are saying something, but you can't hear at all. Your attention is now on Wanda and Kate, they are slowly tying your legs together, is hot, but adorable at the same time as the witch is teaching the young archer how to do the perfect knot. 

Carol is already without her clothes, having only a big strap on herself as she is adjusting the harness and even though you saw her naked already, you don’t think you could get enough of her. 

Suddenly there are some lips on yours, when they pull away, you notice it´s Yelena, you smile at her instinctively. She is a bit harsh, but you actually like it that way, and both of you know it. “Have fun, when you´re done here, come to my room. Understood?” 

You nod, again, “Understood, yes,” you whisper. 

Yelena just smiles a little, and slaps your cheek, which caught you off guard, but it sends shivers down your body, making your pussy even more wet. You´re positive that you´re already making so much mess. 

Carol finally comes to you and picks you up, without a word she places you on the table in the living room, making you the center of attention. But you don’t want her to let go of you, she's so warm and her strong embrace is making you feel like the most secured person in the entire milky way.  

“Don´t worry, malysh. Captain is very cuddly after sex.” Wanda sends you a wink as her and Kate finishes the tight knots on your legs. 

Natasha comes with a knife in her hand, slowly cutting through your clothes and with a slight smirk she says with such a rasp in her voice, “who wants to go first?” 

THANK YOU FOR READING! 💕💕💕

This went totally different way than I wanted to, but hey, here we are :p

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Surprise! (bucky barnes)

Summary: you thought everyone forgot your birthday.

Warnings: none, fluff at the end.

WC: 600ish

A/N: my birthday was October 8. i was feeling super sad and miserable that day and I didn't want to keep posting sad things on here on that day. So viola. have a sad reader on her birthday. lol

Read on Ao3!

-

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets of New York. The city was alive with chatter and laughter, but in your small apartment, you felt an unsettling quiet. It was your birthday, but no one seemed to remember.

You had casually dropped hints to your friends in the days leading up to today—talking about your favorite cake, reminiscing about past celebrations—but as the hours slipped away, your excitement faded into disappointment. Messages were scarce, and the few you received were vague: “Happy Wednesday!” or “Can’t wait to catch up soon!”

With a heavy heart, you settled onto the couch, scrolling through social media. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but you felt like a ghost, floating through a world that had forgotten you.

Just as you were about to turn off your phone and give in to the sadness, a knock echoed through your apartment. You sighed, hoping it was a friend stopping by with a slice of cake or, at the very least, a friendly face.

When you opened the door, there stood Bucky Barnes, his signature smile brightening the dim hallway. “Hey, you! Ready for some fun?”

“Fun? What do you mean?” You forced a smile, trying to hide the heaviness in your chest.

“Oh, you know, just thought we could hang out. Got some stuff planned,” he said, stepping inside. His easy demeanor made you feel a little lighter, and you nodded, grateful for the distraction.

As the evening wore on, Bucky introduced you to a series of games and movies, keeping the atmosphere light. You laughed at his antics, but deep down, you felt the ache of disappointment. You wanted to celebrate, to feel special, but it seemed like this was just another ordinary night.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Bucky said, heading toward the kitchen. You watched him go, feeling a mix of appreciation and sadness. Just as you settled back into your thoughts, the doorbell rang again.

Bucky returned with an armful of snacks. “I hope you like pizza rolls,” he said, grinning. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “But we’re not done yet!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and led you back to the door. He opened it wide, revealing a group of your closest friends, all smiling and holding balloons, streamers, and a giant cake that read “Happy Birthday!”

Your heart leapt, and your eyes widened in disbelief. “You…you all remembered?”

Bucky stepped forward, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Of course we did! We just wanted to make it special. You mean a lot to us, and we couldn’t let your birthday go by without a proper celebration.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you turned to face your friends. They all chimed in, “Surprise!” and wrapped you in hugs. The warmth of their love washed over you, banishing the loneliness that had settled in your heart.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, feeling overwhelmed with joy. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, it was a team effort, but I wanted you to know how much you’re loved.”

As the night unfolded, laughter and music filled your apartment, and the worries of the day faded away. You danced, played games, and shared stories, surrounded by friends who cherished you.

In that moment, you realized that even on days you felt forgotten, there was always love waiting to surprise you. And with Bucky by your side, you knew you would never be alone.

[jazzyoranges]

Harleys in Hawaii

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend

Words: 4.5k

A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii

Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇

Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least

“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs

“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”

This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”

“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”

“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her

“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out

“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”

“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”

“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”

“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”

“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”

“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”

“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are

—

You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things

Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife

Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study

Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there

Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-

“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”

“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion

“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder

“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends

“Sam’s friend is really hot.”

“Understandable” Chad nods

“Definitely ask her out”

“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts

You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over

“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?

“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend

Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”

“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”

You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”

“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles

“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion

“So, what exactly do you need help with?”

Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).

A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)

“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans

“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”

“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks

“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her

“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly

“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor

“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car

Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter

When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind

First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on

A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after

“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”

“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does

“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”

“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm

“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body

—

Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere

“Wanna go to the movies?”

“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”

“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone

“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you

At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack

When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door

“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff

“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it

“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table

“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”

“I think that’s just you being old”

“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice

“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”

“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor

The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her

“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs

“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”

“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”

“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart

The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat

“Dude, how are you so good?”

“I guess I just have more experience”

“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child

“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”

“We have Uno” Sam suggests

Oh how foolish she was.

Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans

“Please are you two almost done?”

“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads

“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”

“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!”

“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter

Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?

Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo

“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers

“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin

“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”

“Your baby?”

“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder

“You named your motorcycle?

“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”

“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further

“You never answered my question”

“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”

“But would you mind?”

“No, you’re my friend”

A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do

Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat

“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.

Oh but she does

Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately

You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily

“You alright, Tar?” You bend down

“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity

“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”

“No, I mean stay here.”

“You… You want me to stay in your room?”

Tara nods.

“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.

“I won’t be far, I promise”

“I don’t care you’re older than me.”

“W-What?”

“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers

“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again

“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her

“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature

“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”

“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”

“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone

“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice

“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight

“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”

“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas

“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles

“…can I wear your shirt?”

“I’m right here, you know”

“I wanna be closer to you”

“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark

You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.

Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later

“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly

“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”

“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“

“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”

“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam

“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders

“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”

The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open

“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck

“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”

“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion

“Tyler the creator”

“Is he any good?”

“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”

“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night

Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter

—

You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments

Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug

“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks

“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”

“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”

“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”

“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”

“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”

“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”

“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”

“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes

“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed

“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”

“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”

“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately

—

“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”

“A lot like being 22”

“Noting different?”

“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”

You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend

“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”

“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”

“Aw you’re no fun”

“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants

“Mhm, and what type of fun?”

“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples

Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her

“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks

“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight

“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“

“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name

“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh

When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead

—

“So, what’re your plans for the break?”

“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”

“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”

“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”

“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead

“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”

“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes

“Kiss it better?”

—

“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”

“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”

“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm

“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”

You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.

“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it

“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”

“…Aesthetic?”

“You’re not that old, love”

Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara

“Aviator or round?”

“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face

“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”

“There’s a difference?”

“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”

Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving

Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you

With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you

[gatitties]

War & crack II

—Task Force 141 x young!reader

—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic

—Warnings: none

Part One / Halloween special

yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣

─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.

─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.

─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.

─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.

─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.

─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).

─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.

─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.

─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.

─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.

─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.

─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.

─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.

─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...

─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.

─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.

— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.

─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.

─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.

─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.

─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.

─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.

─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.

─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.

─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.

─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).

— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.

— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.

— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.

— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.

— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.

— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.

— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.

— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.

— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.

— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.

— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.

— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?

[declareqenius]

all the ashes in my wake

summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.

warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma

a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!

The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.

Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.

Your eyes are closed now.

Wanda hates every second of it.

Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.

So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.

Right now, though, you are her priority.

The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.

"Wands-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."

Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.

She almost leveled the entire block.

The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.

So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.

They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.

Tears form in Wanda's eyes.

"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.

"After she wakes up."

Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.

"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.

"Nat."

It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.

Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.

She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."

It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.

At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."

"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."

"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"

Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.

Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.

Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.

"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."

Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.

"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."

"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."

Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"

"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"

Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.

"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.

Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.

Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.

The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.

She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.

"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Me too, Natalia. Me too."

They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.

Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.

"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.

Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.

"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."

"Natasha."

Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Please, Wanda."

Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.

"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."

Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.

"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.

"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.

Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.

"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.

Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."

She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.

Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.

"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."

[aumarias]

haikyu!! headcanons - seijoh main four

slight suggestive themes in matsukawa's

iwaizumi hajime

100% without a doubt, works out to relieve stress. it's an escape from his problems (oikawa) and helps him take out his anger in a healthy way.

his favorite color is definitely red. i don't know why he just seems like a red guy.

literally gets SO pouty when he's surprised with something. it could be a gift or a party and he'll get so pouty. he's so emotional i love him

he loves LOVES when you grab his bicep. it makes him feel so strong and manly and proud it's so cute his face lights up.

contrary to popular opinion, he LOVES physical touch, but only with specific people. he just loves feeling loved.

whatever you cook for him, he'll DEVOUR it. he'll literally eat it up he loves food especially if you're the one who made it.

oikawa tooru

he has major separation anxiety. when he's in argentina you know damn well he's spamming the group chat with messages and calls.

his friends mean everything to him. he'd abandon volleyball for them anyday. he'd never admit it though...

a horrible, terrible liar. cannot lie to save his life, he'll start laughing or smiling. his voice cracks if he tries to drag it on too long.

when he falls in love, he's in LOVE. the gc is spammed with messages about how much he loves his gf and pictures of her followed by long ass paragraphs.

if he ever catches you in his jersey, oh honey... you're never gonna hear the end of it. he'll do a whole photoshoot of you in it, it doesn't matter if you just woke up. he thinks you look stunning and now it's his lockscreen wallpaper.

the SASSIEST man alive. he'll give you so much attitude if he's pissed off. you gotta sit his ass down and tell him to cut it out cause it gets BAD.

matsukawa issei

i don't see him as a smoker honestly. however...he is a big drinker. beer, whiskey, rum and coke, you name it, he'll have it.

super handsy. can't keep him hands off you, he needs to be touching you at all times. whether it be a hand on your hip, waist, thigh, head, or an arm around your shoulder, he's always touching you.

working in a funeral home, he sees a lot of grieving families yk.. he has nightmares that one day he'll be the one grieving you. please hold him tight at night!!

king of midnight snack runs! it's 4am and you're hungry? no problem! let's do a cvs run. oh you want taco bell? it closes soon better hurry!

has the LONGEST eyelashes you've ever seen. it's not even funny how are they so long. he looks great with mascara, he'll even beg you to put it on him so he can show off to oikawa. (he does, in fact, get jealous)

jams out with hanamaki to 2000's white girl songs. i'm talking christina aguilera, britney spears, natasha bedingfield, etc. it's their favorite way to mess with hajime. (he secretly loves it though)

hanamaki takahiro

matsukawa might not be a smoker, but hanamaki totally is. he doesn't smoke often, but when he does he comes back higher than a kite. he only smokes to relieve stress.

our dear boy is unemployed, but he still tries to spoil you as much as he can. you want that swimsuit? you'd look so hot babe of course he's buying it for you.

not a very touchy person, but he tries to make it up to you by spending time with you. he'll stand by you in the kitchen while you're whipping up some coffee for yourself. he sees you on the couch? now you guys are watching a movie together. he just loves being with you.

late night drives with takahiro are to die for. you've never had this much fun in your life. the city lights and the music blasting from the radio lifts you to a high you've never felt before.

uses hot cocoa flavored chapstick. he stocks up during the winter since it's a seasonal flavor (which he thinks is super annoying) but you complimented him on it once and now it's the only one he uses.

on twitter nearly 24/7. he posts his every thought and somehow they go viral. he prides himself on that and comes to you every time his tweet blows up. "look babe! my tweet hit 100k retweets."

[cryptidghostgirl]

Humanity’s Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Description: It wasn't love. Alastor didn't feel love, not anymore. He'd lost that part of himself the day he died so it couldn't be love, could it?

Warnings: Look, I'm writing and it's not for a request. Angst. It's always angst. I just love Alastor's inhumanity, what can I say? This bitch is in denial. Also, bodies, blood, death, no gore but like, eh. Also Adam is in this one and he's his own warning. Loose Mistki quoting at one part. Also a loose Sappho quote “pale as grass” and self harm.

Word Count: 2,420

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask.

A/N My classics major side came out a little bit in this one lol. Also I have a big classics major side fic in the wings so if you guys like this, just wait. Also Sir Pentious is from the 1800s so he for sure had a classical education. Also the title came from an article I was reading about the history of witchcraft for one of my classes.

The most complex and yet the most simple of the human emotions. Feared by some, wielded by others, out of reach for many, perennial for more still, and taken as easily as a breath of air by a solemn few. What a strange thing, love.

It was this last category that bewitched Alastor. Even when he had been alive, he had never understood the people like that, the ones who took heartbreak in stride, the ones who shared any love they had the minute they felt it with everyone and everything. The ones who weren't paralyzed by potential loss or violent embarrassment.

The people who feared love made sense. It had a vast capacity for harm, it was able to destroy without a second thought. Even when it was good, love could be devastating. Those who wielded it as their weapon of choice nearly fell into a subcategory of this group. They used other people's fear of the matter against them or they lured people in to get what they wanted and threw them to the curb without a second glance.

Everyone on earth, living or dead, had felt at least once that love was out of their reach, Alastor reasoned. Hopelessness is one of the most vital parts of the human condition, after all.

Perennial was the category in which most people fell. Love came and went. It lived and died, but always returned like the plants he had named this grouping for.

Then there were people like Y/n. Not a day went by where she wasn't explaining how much she adored something random or telling people she loved them, throwing the word around as if it had no weight, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to love, to share love. When Angel had made some snide remark about everything being her alleged 'favorite thing,' Y/n had quickly replied, saying:

"Aren't I lucky for that? Isn't that just wonderful?"

Alastor couldn't tell in which category he fell or what his opinion was about that answer of hers. One thing he did know was that Y/n was to be avoided at all costs.

She was the typical sinner. Never too bad of a person when alive, but never too good either. She wore her hedonism like a badge of honor, living her afterlife in much the same way Alastor assumed she had lived her living life: in a constant state of indulgence.

It wasn't the typical form of being that takes a person's mind when they think of the word. No, Y/n didn't indulge in a reckless, Dionysian way. Instead, she devoured everything. Books, good food, music, friends, you name it. Y/n had a million stories about each and a million examples of the best they all had to offer on hand. She relished in all that every word had to offer.

Alastor had overheard her talking to Charlie one night about that. He hadn't meant to, he had just been wandering the hotel, unable to sleep and in need of some air, when he'd heard a slight commotion in the lobby. Hidden by his shadows, he had entered the familiar space to find an exhausted Charlie standing tensely before a bulletin board.

"God is in the details." Y/n was saying as she adjusted the plans pinned on the structure so they were easier to read, more cohesive, "Anything can be a work of art, don't forget that. It's what makes everything so undeniably worth it."

She was so utterly out of his reach. Not that Alastor wanted Y/n in his reach, no. How ridiculous would that be: the Radio Demon, the most feared overlord in all of Hell, getting butterflies because he heard a girl tell someone else she loved them and imagined it was him. No, that would be utterly foolish which was why it wasn't the case, couldn't be the case. He must be getting sick, that was why his stomach had felt weird.

"What are you reading?" he heard Sir Pentious ask as the snake demon took a seat on the couch beside Y/n.

Alastor was at the bar, sharing a drink with Husk. His ear twitched in their direction.

"It's a book discussing the changes in interpretations of Sappho's poetry over time." Y/n replied, her tone soft and even.

It felt like a salve against Alastor's ears. Husk raised an eyebrow towards his master but made no remark.

"Really? I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing."

"I was actually a professor in the human world... living world? Whatever. I didn't work on Sappho, I worked on ancient medicine, but I always found her intriguing and lovely. I mean, phainetai moi is creating a diagnosed love, using all the language of medicine. How could it not capture my attention?"

"You know, if you look at Homer, the same language Sappho uses is also used to describe love. She is actually working off a preexisting cannon of love as something painful and destroying."

"Really?"

"Yes, and curse tablets tend to draw off medical writings quite a bit as well, especially those involved in love magic."

"Huh, that’s a neat little intersection I have yet to explore: medicine, magic, and love. I never knew you knew so much about this. You died in the 1890s, right?"

"Sometime around then."

"I should have guessed then, my mistake. Tell me, what was it like growing up with all this wonder at your finger tips? It was hard for me to even find a university with a classics department, let alone a good one. You’re lucky to have had it all right there."

Now that was an interesting idea to Alastor. A diagnosable love, a painful and deadly thing. Love as a curse, love as being shot through by an enemy spear, love as a god. It made more sense to him than anything else about the matter had. Unavoidable, not something self imposed. A cursed love, a medical love, something that controlled a person rather than vice versa.

He lay awake at night, unable to speak, pale as grass, thinking unwillingly of the way her lips curved to form words, of the way one could see the gears of her mind turning behind her eyes. He lay awake, unable to do anything else. He stared at the ceiling.

"Ah! Angel! Thank you!" Y/n exclaimed as he handed her the sweater he'd spotted her eyeing a few days before when they'd been for a walk around town, "This was so kind of you!"

Alastor watched as Y/n pulled the lanky demon into a hug which he reluctantly returned, looking down at her with a platonic version of the sort of fondness that was so forbidden to him.

"Great work Angel!" Charlie clapped excitedly, "That's a step in the right direction."

No, it wasn't love. Alastor Hartifelt didn't love, he had lost that ability the day he had died and he'd barely had it before that. It didn't matter that his heart skipped a beat, there was no truth to his upset stomach when he had to speak to her except something bad he must have eaten. The sleeplessness wasn't new, sleep had never been his friend so to speak, the two had never really gotten along. The reason it got so stuck in his head, the way she threw her affection around, was the carelessness of it all, the foolishness. Only, what he had overheard her saying to Charlie that night, that anything can be a work of art, were the words of someone who acted purely on intention, who did nothing without considered thought.

Y/n couldn't be a wielder of love. Alastor never once saw her manipulate someone or even really ask anyone for anything at all. There was no way she was scared and the way she freely gave took her out of the other two categories as well. It didn't make sense. The intention, the earnestness, the true meaning behind her actions and words that always seemed to shine through no matter what she did, was what had him stuck. She barley even fit into her own category because of it. Most people that threw love around the way she did had the words and actions lose their meaning over time but, somehow, that seemed never to be the case for her.

He pictured a life on earth. He pictured walking with her beneath the stars, the way the light of the moon would play gently across her skin. He pictured her in the recording studio, the one he'd worked at while alive, waiting by the door for him to finish his work and taking him by the hand, dragging him off into the unknown. He pictured waking up beside her in the morning, all messy hair and smiles. He pictured, he dreamed, he dissolved. The doctors diagnosed him and he went to see other people because he didn't like the answer they gave him.

Y/n pulled Vaggie from her seat at the bar, spinning the demon into an ungraceful waltz to the music Alastor was playing on the piano for the group. He nearly fumbled, nearly missed a note. She missed so many steps and it didn't matter because she was laughing, and so was Vaggie. She didn't have to be perfect, but he did.

They each smiled ear to ear while Charlie clapped along to the beat. He imagined himself in Vaggie's place, he could practically feel his hands on the gentle curve of her hips. The world was half real.

It wasn't love because he didn't know her, he never spoke to her. It wasn't love because that was impossible, he couldn't love. It wasn't love because that was an ability he'd left in the world of the living. It wasn't love because she was too kind, too good, and he was nothing if not brutal and bloodstained to his core. It wasn't love because it couldn't be. It wasn't love because if it was...

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

He repeated the mantra to himself. Alone walking the halls, in meetings with the other overlords, making tea in the kitchen. He whispered the words to himself like a prayer.

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

Y/n was out of reach, untouchable, destined to join the ranks of Heaven while he remained rotting in Hell. It couldn't be anything else, no other future was possible which was why it wasn't love. She was made of all the things a human is and he was made of those a monster is. She was bright, she shined, and Alastor fed off the light of others, burning it out into darkness. He refused to do such a thing to her, he couldn't. Not when she was practically the sun. Not when he wasn't even a star but the black hole of the earth revolving around her.

He saw her holding Husk's hands over the bar top as he told her something, a look of deep concern etched into her features. He watched her pick Nifty up by the waist so the little demon could dust the tops of the bookshelves. He watched her, he waited, he would always be waiting because nothing could ever happen. Nothing would ever happen, he wouldn't allow it and goddamnit it wasn’t love.

It was also impossible, Alastor reminded himself. He had left that part of himself when he had died, it hadn't made the journey with him. The most favored fantasy of his own humanity, or what was left of it. The little spark of the person he had been that glowed softly from the center of his chest. Alastor had tried to douse it, tried to kill it, tried to rip it from himself but all he'd ever ended up with was bloody hands and torn flesh and the light pulsed on in its eternal hunger, its eternal hope, its eternal harm.

And then it was too late. Then, she really was gone, double dead or however anyone wanted to call it. Adam dropped her lifeless corpse to the ground and Alastor's world crashed in around him because no matter how many times he had said it wasn't, no matter how he had avoided her, no matter what he had done it had been love, or the beginnings of it at least. The closest thing to it he'd ever really felt. His hand tightened around the staff of his microphone. Alastor bared his teeth, he saw red.

"What have you done?"

Adam turned to him, grinning. Y/n deserved a viking funeral, to be surrounded by flowers and sent off in a burning boat. She deserved a Greek burial, reduced to ashes and buried with all the proper rites that made sure she would make it to the afterlife. She deserved, she was owed, he was angry.

"What." Adam laughed, "Was she your little bitch?"

Alastor didn't think he had any room left inside him for the fury, but found his rage redoubled at Adam's words.

"What did you just call her?"

"Your little bitch." Adam smirked, "She was a cute one, shame you all are gonna have to burn. Woulda kept her for myself."

Adam looked down, nudging Y/n's lifeless corpse with the toe of his shoe. Alastor attacked. There was no thought, no order, no grace, there was only the anger. Only now that it was too late, was he at last able to let loose, be less than perfect, exist in an unintentional manner. Or was it that this was the true meaning of intention -- reckless abandon? Y/n probably would have thought that. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what she would have thought, what any of them did think. It was too late. There was no more time and Alastor had come to terms with his own frailty a second past the buzzer. He would never forgive himself.

"You will pay for what you have done. You will die for what you have done."

Because it had been love, all along and Alastor, who had thought himself above it all, had been in that first group. He had been scared, not of what love could do but of what Y/n would, of what she had already done to him. Now it was too late and he would never get another chance.

"You will fucking die!"

----

Part Two --> → Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2

[feyascorner]

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it. 

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back.  Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot. 

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.” 

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

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[jenscx]

[15] DAYLIGHT — thinking bout you

you didn’t expect karina’s version of talking to be, literal talking. the bright shine of a voice call request makes you rub your eyes in the dark, in disbelief. hesitantly, your fingers press the green accept button. a deep, almost raspy chuckle is the first thing you hear. in the late night, or early morning, it sends shockwaves throughout your body.

“hey, darling.”

a lump forms in your throat. you mumble back, “hi, karina.”

she giggles and the husky tone elicits a warm and tingly sensation across your skin. you wouldn’t mind hearing her voice for the rest of your life. you could only imagine how it would sound in real life, her breathy and gruff voice in your ear. it causes you to shudder. you should really sleep if you were eluding such delusions.

“what’s up with the late talk?” no nicknames, no annoying and snide remarks, just the hint of concern in her words, “do you need help with something?”

you shake your head even though karina can’t see you, “no, just couldn’t sleep.”

“you said you were thinking about stuff. wanna talk about it?”

an involuntary blush rises. you can’t tell the person you were thinking of, that you were thinking of them.

“can’t tell you,” you say in hushed secrecy.

you can almost hear the smirk karina has. “oh really? that’s such a shame. did you just want to hear my voice?” you splutter indignantly, “no way.”

karina laughs. it’s music to your ears.

“it’s okay, darling. i know i have a nice voice.”

your throat constricts and turns dry.

“you’re so insufferable,” you scoff, but unable to deny the fact that the influencer does have a nice voice. a mesmerising one even.

“so,” karina drawls, “what’s the real reason of you texting me at 3am? only my booty calls do that.” a deep pit forms in your stomach. booty calls? just knowing the fact that karina might have had girls at her beck and call made your insides coil up. confused at the unfamiliar feeling, you simply remain silent.

“hm?” she urges.

“i don’t wanna talk to you anymore. bye,” you spit out, eyes narrowed. if anyone were here to witness your current state, they would have immediately darted from your fiery gaze that could kill someone.

“woah,” karina blurts out, “don’t be so haste, darling. i was just kidding.”

you roll your eyes, “and i wasn’t but whatever.” her nonchalant flirting with pet names only fueled the insecurity in your head. guess you were just another girl to play with. if she was so comfortable saying such things, it would only make sense that she’s done it countless of times before. you were probably just an easy target. as your finger hovered over the end call button, karina’s voice rings out again.

“as the winner of the bet, i command you not to end the call,” you can envision her proud grin.

“command? i’m not your dog,” you frown. your cat, bobo, snuggles up to you. if this were any other day, bobo wouldn’t be so affectionate. but maybe he sensed the inner turmoil you faced.

as you stroked his fur, karina says, “of course not. but seriously, are you not gonna tell me why you texted me?”

i wanted to talk to you because even though you’re the most annoying person alive i’m still madly attracted to you.

“just wanted to talk to someone. all my friends are asleep,” you lie.

“so i was just a second choice? that hurts my feelings, darling.”

“yeah, sorry to break it to you.”

karina guffaws.

“also,” you suddenly remember, “what are we going do on saturday?” you hear rustling from karina’s side, assuming she’s changing positions.

“i actually haven’t thought about it yet. what do you wanna do?”

“don’t you just normally walk around the city and shop?” you ask, recalling karina’s previous vlogs that you definitely did not watch countless times.

karina voice takes on a teasing lilt, “does park yn watch my vlogs? that boosts my ego knowing you hate youtubers.”

“i just saw it on my recommended page, don’t let it get to your head, dumbass. also, i hate a youtuber, not all youtubers,” you say, not bothering to explain any further.

“mhm, sure. anytime you wanna see this pretty face you can just text me instead of watching my videos,” karina says playfully.

you change the subject rather quickly.

“i wanna go to a cat cafe.”

“oh! yeah, actually we can do that. i always wanted to do that,” karina confesses, but then she laughs, “won’t bobo be jealous that you’re meeting other cats?”

“bobo isn’t my boyfriend,” you purse your lips. karina’s voice perks up, “and do you have one?”

you’re bewildered.

“what? have what?”

“have a boyfriend. do you?”

“none of your business, stupid,” you sneer. karina can’t help but pout. “but aren’t we friends, yn? you said we were acquainted on your stream. by now, we should be considered friends.”

you laugh sarcastically, “of course, we’re best friends and i will definitely tell you about my personal love life!”

“actually, i don’t think you have a boyfriend,” karina replies, amused, “you play league, overwatch and valorant. no single person plays all three, and more.”

your eyebrow raises as you bring the phone closer to your ear, desperate to hear more of karina’s voice.

“you play overwatch too, dumbass.”

karina yawns, “whatever, you’re still a stupid virgin who doesn’t have a boyfriend or any love life.”

“shut up, freak. i’m going to sleep.”

she hums, “fine. wear something cute on saturday.”

“that’s like five days away.”

“put in effort for me, ‘kay? i need to milk this bet as much as i can, and a cute yn on my thumbnail would get clicks.”

you snort, “okay.”

“good night, or morning, or whatever. rest well, darling.”

“night, karina.”

her voice is gone. just the beep of your phone.

tossing your phone to the side and almost hitting bobo, you’re unable to stop the grin on your face from forming.

you fall asleep with a smile.

masterlist | next

TAGLIST ! @flolio @imahallucination11 @wallfl9wer @edamboon @seullovesme @twicesserafim @klvarchives @rinapomu @pandafuriosa60 @jisooftme @cwpiqwon @yoontoonwhs @limbforalimb @xen248 @r4cjh @dni-unavailable @yukianism @i3lia @ryujinsdimple @httpisaoki @haerinsloverr @masuowo @multiliker @edenzeepy @1luvkarina @yeetaberry127

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Ticci Toby/Tobias Rogers

Sorry this took so long!! I’ve been contemplating writing one shots, but I feel like I should get the head canons out first. If any of you have any ideas for one shots (x readers, char x char, nsfw), my request box is open! I’ll get around to them as soon as possible. :)

- 5’11! Sleeper build and scrawny, but extremely strong upper arms. He’s not as fast as Kate and Brian, but he makes up for it with how long he can run. He never gets tired and can chase victims for hours. Lots of freckles, too!

- White with mostly German heritage. He doesn’t know very much German, just baseline stuff he learned from his mom. (Connie grew up in Germany until she was 15.)

- Medium brown hair and dark brown eyes. He’s pretty pale, but being outside most of the time he does have a slight tan, lots of freckles too.

- His dad was extremely abusive and would beat him, his mom, and his sister, it was rare for him to not be drunk. Toby killed him only a few hours after his father beat his mom to the point she was unconscious. He’d rather his mom lose both of her children and her abusive husband than endure so much pain, he cared about her more than anything. He didn’t want to sit idly by as he loses his sister and mother.

- His fingers are TORN up. Bites and picks at his nails, cuticles, dry knuckles, all of it. His fingertips and palms are also super calloused.

- Hangs out with Jeff and Ben most of the time. He’s closer to Ben and thinks Jeff’s a douche, but he puts up with him since sometimes the three of them have fun.

- He can be a jerk, but if you’re able to break past his shell he’s super sweet. He’s still sarcastic and snarky, but not necessarily mean. VERY smug.

- Had Jeff do a tattoo of Lyra’s birthday on his shoulder. It turned out surprisingly good. He was originally going to do her death date, but he felt like it was better to honor the time she was alive.

- Halloween junkie. He has a massive sweet tooth and loves autumn, so it’s the perfect day ever in his eyes.

- This guy DESTROYS in poker and blackjack. The few times his dad would spend time with him they’d play together. Even though he hated him, it meant a lot to him when he was little. Has the teeny tiniest gambling addiction, makes a bunch of bets with other residents of the mansion and usually wins.

- MIDWESTERN EMO BOY!!!! I will die on this hill. Music taste, clothing, all of it.

- His tics are pretty rare now that he’s older, but when he’s anxious they get bad.

- Exclusively wears comfortable clothes. Not because he gets uncomfortable, he could (and does) sleep in jeans and not be bothered. When he was younger he would always be forced to wear slacks, dress shoes, button ups, and ties for church or family gatherings. He HATED it.

- Him, Tim, and Brian are usually put on missions together. They’re all pretty compatible, and it’s nice to talk to just some regular ass dudes. Sometimes all three of them will go to run down diner’s if they finished their mission early, it’s the most normality any of them have in their lives.

- He and Tim bicker a LOT, but he secretly find comfort in it. He sees Tim as a protective older brother, rather than someone who just hates him. With how his dad treated him growing up, he thought all arguing was yelling and being aggressive, but Tim’s is more disagreement or annoyance.

- Almost knows how to play the acoustic guitar. He’s a quick learner, but he doesn’t have a crazy strong desire to get better at it.

- Pretty much always wears a big bandaid over his cheek gash. He’s not necessarily insecure about it unless he has a crush on someone, but it’s hard to eat or drink when it’s just open.

- He’s actually not to bad at soccer! Sometimes when it’s nice out him and Cody find a ball and play.

- Anywho, I’m in love with him.

Feedback and requests are welcome! Thank you for reading. :)

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

[leknaur]

Slut; jungkook

Jungkook x reader

Angst with happy ending

Inspired by slut from Taylor swift

Jungkook stood on the edge of the rooftop, gazing out at the shimmering lights of Seoul. The city was alive with energy, but here, high above the streets, it felt like another world. A world where the noise faded, where the only sounds were the wind and the distant hum of traffic.

His phone vibrated in his pocket for the hundredth time that evening, but he didn’t check it. He knew what it would be—more messages, more warnings from his team, more gossip filling his social media feeds. He was tired of it all, of being watched, of being judged for every move he made.

Tonight was supposed to be an escape. A few hours where he could be himself, where he didn’t have to wear the mask of the idol everyone knew. But even here, in this private, exclusive place, the weight of the world pressed down on him.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes finding her in the crowd. She stood at the bar, sipping her drink, pretending not to notice the glances thrown her way. But he saw the way she held herself, the way her eyes darted nervously every few seconds. She was always aware, always on guard, because of him.

They hadn’t meant for it to become this complicated. What started as a simple connection had grown into something neither of them could walk away from, no matter how much easier it would be. But the world didn’t see it that way. To them, she was just another fling, another woman who had caught his eye and would soon be discarded. They didn’t know the truth, the depth of what they shared.

And when the media found out, they branded her with a word that cut deeper than any insult: slut. It echoed through his mind, a constant reminder of the price she paid just for being with him.

He clenched his jaw, anger and guilt twisting in his gut. He hated that word, hated how easily people used it to tear her down. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve any of this. But he didn’t know how to protect her without letting her go, and the thought of losing her was unbearable.

She caught him looking and gave him a small, reassuring smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. Jungkook felt his resolve falter. What kind of life was he offering her? A life in the shadows, where they had to sneak around like criminals just to steal a few moments of happiness.

But then he remembered the way she made him feel, the way she saw him—not as Jungkook, the idol, but as the man underneath. The man who was scared, who was lonely, who wanted more than the life he was living. She was his sanctuary, the one place where he didn’t have to pretend.

He pushed off the railing and made his way to her, ignoring the looks that followed him as he crossed the room. When he reached her, he didn’t say anything. He just took her hand and led her to a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the music. “For everything.”

She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to apologize. I knew what I was getting into.”

“But you shouldn’t have to deal with this.” His voice cracked, the frustration bubbling up. “You shouldn’t have to be labeled just because you’re with me.”

She looked at him, her gaze steady and full of understanding. “People are going to talk, Jungkook. They’re going to say whatever they want. But it doesn’t change what we have. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

He wanted to believe her, to believe that they could make it through this. But the doubt lingered, the fear that one day, the pressure would be too much, and she would walk away.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked quietly. “Being with me?”

She didn’t answer right away, and his heart sank. But then she reached up, cupping his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“Never,” she whispered. “I don’t care what they say. I love you, Jungkook. And I’m not going to let them take that away from us.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, letting her words wash over him. In this moment, it didn’t matter what the world thought. It didn’t matter what they called her. All that mattered was that she was here, with him, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

Jungkook opened his eyes, finding strength in hers. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, holding on as if she were his lifeline. Maybe they couldn’t control what people said, but they could control how they lived, how they loved.

And he was done hiding.

As they stood there, the city spread out beneath them, he made a silent vow. He would fight for this, for her, for them. No matter what it took, no matter what the world threw at them, he wouldn’t let go.

Because she was worth it.