#i maintain that although he's much worse to her than she is to him light is actually somehow more interested in misa than she is in him

[quicktimeeventfull]

honestly misa and light are so compelling to me because both of them have like, subzero interest in one another and in fact actively resist any attempt to learn one single thing about the other. this is obvious from light's side of things & probably does not need expanding upon, but misa also does not care even a little bit about light -- she is instead in this parasocial relationship with this fake made-up version of him that has nothing whatsoever to do with him. like the amount of effort she puts into ignoring and wildly misinterpreting every single non-instructional thing light has ever told her is truly astounding. she lives with him for years and is genuinely convinced that he's a sweet, thoughtful man who is completely obsessed with her and can't live without her due to the depths of his love. they're soulmates and also strangers.

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [2/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3115

Summary: The Night’s Watch was a nightmare to the one eyed prince. Longing for his freedom once more, the gods decided to toss a coin and play with him. Meeting a peculiar wildling that could be his answer. And the Targaryen prince could be the answer to her people. 

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”

Aemond knelt before the weirwood tree as he spoke the watch’s oath. Although he was devoted to the seven, a hint of guilt lies deep in his heart. He recalls how his mother devoted her life to the seven and prays daily to the sept. Praying for him, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, her own mother, it felt wrong kneeling in front of the old gods. What would his mother say of him?

Does she know that he’s alive?

Did Lord Stark told her of his fate? 

He could only get lost in his thoughts as he stood up to face his commander. The summer snow falls heavy upon his now black garb, traditionally worn by the order. He should’ve had drowned in that lake alongside with Vhagar and his uncle. Why did the gods saved him just to give him a fate worse than death? 

May the gods be with me.

“Just so you know, new recruits are sorted into three orders. Rangers, warriors of the watch to patrol beyond the wall and fend off any wildling. Then we have Builders, tasked to maintain The Wall itself such as castles, arms, and all that shit. And uh last we have Stewards, cooking and tending horses,” His commander said.

“As much I would love to put you as a Steward, princey…we all know you are needed as a Ranger. You are a skilled warrior aren’t you not?”

Aemond could only stare at the commander, letting out a quiet hum. “You don’t talk much do ya?” Stepping closer to the one eyed prince. “It’s better that way,” Aemond replied coldly.

The northerner scoffed, spitting onto the ground. 

“Cocky little shit.”

Walking away from Aemond alongside with the other crows. Turning his back on them, Aemond stared down at the weirwood tree. It was laughing at him. At his demise, his fate. The old gods were not with him. He cursed them under his breath, stomping away from the scene as his cloak dragged across the snow. 

Training with the northerners wasn’t any different than he had with ser Criston back then in the keep. It’s even easier for his liking. Aemond being a skilled swordsman he is, didn’t hesitate to show off his skills as he competed with new recruits of the watch. Even the ones that were longer in the brother hood had to put up a good fight to keep up with his skills. Yet Aemond was persistent on winning every single time.

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly to a young boy aching in the ground after getting hit by Aemond. “We are not done yet. I said get up,” he repeated himself. Is this the kind of men that they’re sending to the wall? Meek and puny men who are supposed to defend the realm from savages and creatures? 

Pathetic. 

“Stand up straight, boy,” Aemond told his competitor, tapping his leg. “Keep your legs strong if you want to live,” he said before striking again, thankfully the boy paid attention and kept his form strong. It went on for awhile after Aemond defeated them again and again. 

“Enough!” His commander’s voice boomed. “You, Targaryen.” Pointing at the one eyed prince. Approaching Aemond, he questioned, “What d’you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“That’s enough.”

“These men aren’t ready—,”

“—oh now you’re lecturing me? A fucking know it all?”

“Yes I know it all. You’re sending these men into a death sentence,” Aemond pointed his sword towards the new recruits. “Is that what this brotherhood is meant for? Sending men into their deaths because they chose not to die sooner in the hands of you northerners? This is not honour, this is a��.”

Before Aemond could even finish his sentence, his commander punched him in the face, hard. A punch he haven’t felt in years throughout his youth. Tumbling to the ground, Aemond felt his cheek was sore and aching. Wincing in pain, he felt his nose bleed.

Stupid northerner.

Licking the blood flowing through his nostril, he scoffed. “That’s what you northerners always do, hm? Finishing the matter with violence.” Prancing up, Aemond wanted to behead his commander right there on spot. But he was held back by the other watch members. Grunting, ordering them to let him go, their grip only tightened.

“If it weren’t for Lord Stark, I would’ve stabbed you here for tainting the watch’s name.” Tapping Aemond’s chin with his own sword. “You’re lucky you’re protected under the starks, boy. Or else your corpse would be lying in the forest as those savages feast on ya.” Tapping Aemond’s cheek with a mocking laugh before his men threw Aemond to the ground, leaving him alone. 

His clothes, once neat and tidy, were now tattered and stained, clinging to his battered frame. Aemond lets his legs give up as he was left alone in the field. Even if his face was in pain, he was relieved that he is finally alone in this dreadful place. Even if it was for awhile, he savoured the moment and laid back on the cold harsh ground of the north.

Looking up, he saw the sky being dark and grey. Snow has stopped falling from the sky, that’s also relief. He wondered what his mother is doing right now. Is she praying for him? For his brother? What about Helaena? Has she forgiven him after what he had done and asked her for? She was kind. Helaena didn’t deserve the war or any of them. Not even himself.

What of Alys? His newborn? What does he look like? Will she successfully give him an heir? But what is the use of an heir if he is not present to see its birth? If he has lost the war. If the blacks had claimed the throne and cast his family aside? Was the war actually worth the fight? He should’ve perished at that lake to end his misery. At Least he didn’t have to endure the aftermath of the war. But now he’s nothing but a crippled Targaryen, surrounded by a useless brotherhood that we would die to escape from. 

A crow flew above him, landing on one of the trees surrounding the base. 

He used to see dragons flying above him. 

Now he is only left with dreadful black crows.

Yet they are free. Unlike his fate. Trapped in a cage he wished to be free from. 

May the gods be with him. 

He wasn’t surprised when they put him on duty that very night to the Nightfort. Of course they put him in the Nightfort. They said that the fort was haunted since it’s twice as old as Castle Black. Aemond sighed, lighting up his torch looking around the barely standing fort. They would have abandon this fort in a few years. Aemond didn’t mind the dark or the haunting noise of the creaking floors of the fort. For Harrenhal was far more haunting than this old fort. 

Even Alys’ visions were far much terrifying. 

He saw a few men on the ground as he stood by the bridge of the old fort. Scared shitless when they felt a small blow from the wind. “Cowards,” he muttered under his breath. The cold wind swept his hair as he stomped through the old fort. Yet when he slowed down, he heard a double foot step. He kept walking.

Tap…tap..Tap..Tap..tap..Tap..tap.

A quite tap was heard from a distance trying to sync with his steps. 

Someone was following him.

For the love of the gods, Aemond whined in his head. He drew out his sword and faced his stalker, finding the boy he duelled earlier raising his arms with a shocked expression. “I-I’m sorry!” The boy stuttered in fear as Aemond’s sword touched his chin.

“Why do you lurk in the shadows, boy? Did they send you to assassinate me?” He accused the boy.

 “N-no, ser—,”

“—Prince. Prince Aemond.” 

The boy swallowed a lump in his throat.

“My pr-prince..I…I am not here to kill you.”

“Then why did you stalk me in the dark?”

“I…I did not want to disrupt your peace. I swear it!”

Aemond stared at the boy for a moment, trying to find guilt in his expression. Yet he found none, so he lowered his sword. “Speak,” he commanded. “I…I..I am..scared…of the nightfort.” The boy’s confession made Aemond scoff, “Those stories they tell you were only lies.” Walking ahead, not bothering to stop and have a proper conversation with the young recruit. “Oh but it’s true!” The boy jogged, catching up to the Targaryen prince. “My brother saw a ghost in the halls. It was the perished wildling who died in this fort!”

Rolling his eye, Aemond said, “Lies.” 

The boy curiously looked at Aemond as they walked side by side. “What happened to your other eye?” A question that Aemond’s sick of hearing and answering. “My nephew took my eye when we were children,” he coldly said. “Why a sapphire?” 

No one ever asked him that before.

Only his mother asked him why he chose a sapphire. He remembered her smiling when he requested a sapphire to replace his eye. He remembered how she told him it suited him. How it made him handsome.

He smiled thinly at the memory.

“Symeon star eyes,” Aemond proudly said.

“The blind knight? Ah yes that makes sense. I read about him once. He’s an amazing hero, isn’t he?” The young boy asked, intriguing Aemond. “He is..and he is a brave knight. Taught me that being blind does not mean you must limit yourself from greatness.” Touching his sapphire eye, he recalled how uncomfortable it was when they placed the stone into his socket when he turned 13. But now he is used to it. As time went by, it slowly moulded into his skin. It was his identity now.

“What is your name, boy?”

“Jack.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I just turned Ten-and-three now.”

He was just a boy.

Aemond stopped in his tracks, “You are merely a boy. Why are you here at the watch?” Aemond asked curiously. 

“I wanted to.”

Aemond scoffed.

“It’s true! I want to be a crow! My brother was one and I have become one!” 

“Where is your brother now?”

Jack went quiet, looking down to his feet. “He died. A wildling shot an arrow through his heart,” he answered. Aemond sighed, in normal circumstances he would not say anything and leave the matter behind. But Jack’s loss reminded him of his own. Aegon. “I lost my brother too,” Aemond said reassuringly. Jack looked up, wiping a snot away from his nose. “You did? What happened to him?”

“He was poisoned. By his own council, I heard,” Aemond vaguely said. “Oh, you were a prince, weren’t you?”

“I still am.”

“What is it like…riding a dragon?”

Trying to recall what it was like to mount on dragonback, feeling the wind blowing through him as Vhagar took him up to the skies, he answered,

“I was free.”

He missed Vhagar. His only companion. The only thing that made himself worthy. Without Vhagar, what is he? Without his claim as prince, what is he? Just a skilled swordsman who coincidentally has silver hair. What has he put himself into?

Crack. Thump.

Aemond turned his head towards the haunted forest. “What was that?” Jack asked. “D’you think it’s a squirrel? Or a bird?”

Thump. Thump. 

“That is no bird, boy,” Aemond warned, shielding Jack from their surroundings. 

Swish- crack!

An arrow shot beside his head. 

“Wildling,” Jack says in horror

Aemond pulled the arrow out from the wooden walls of the fort. Examining its sharp carved edge of the arrow. It was clearly handmade with lack of detail, yet it is efficient to kill. “Warn the others,” Aemond said under his breath. “What?” Aemond rushed and hurriedly push the boy out from his place. “Warn the others. We’re under attack.” Aemond’s words drove Jack into panic before he runs away from the bridge. Leaving Aemond alone with the wildling arrow.

Pulling his sword out once again, Aemond aimed the sword around him.

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“I know you’re there. Show yourself!” Aemond commanded, “Do not hide yourself from me, you savage!” 

Thud. 

He felt the floor shake as he heard something- or..someone jumping inside the bridge he stood on. Before he could fully turn around, the wildling pounced onto him. He landed on the floor with a thud. Aemond hastily aimed the sword to the intruder but when he looked up, he saw a she-wildling curiously looking down at him.

Her messy wavy hair was braided disorderly as it hangs above his face. He felt how thick her fur clothes were as a few leftover snow stuck onto her fur slightly falling when she pounced on him. Aemond was ready to strike if the wildling made sudden movements or even dared to harm him. He glared at the she-wildling, gripping his sword. 

“Do as you please, wildling. And I shall stab your hea-.”

She curiously lifts a strand of his hair. Feeling the texture of his hair. 

What?

She looked at his hair with a smile, “It’s actually silver,” her sweet voice said with a chuckle. 

“So you speak?”

She looked down at him, “Of course I do,” she answered with her thick rough accent. “Good. Then keep your hands off me!” Shoving her away, Aemond quickly stood on his feet. Pointing his sword at her. 

“Where are the others?”

“What others?” She smirked.

“Do not think this is a joke, wildling. We know your attacks—,”

“—Attacks? No! No! Gosh.” 

What is this wildling trying to do? Play with him?

“You’re different.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not from the north,” she repeated, stepping closer towards him in which Aemond does not want her to do, still keeping his sword pointed at her. “And you’re not here by choice,” she continued, stopping right in front of his sword. One step closer, Aemond could stab her through her chest with his sword. “Is it true?” She asked.

“What?”

“That you are those people who owned a dragon?”

“What does a wildling know about dragons?”

“Surprisingly we know some things,” she lightly said. “And my grandfather has seen two dragons flying above the wall. But they refused to go beyond the wall.”

King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. 

His ancestors.

“What do you want, wildling?”

“I have a name, y’know.”

She spoke of her name that sounded foreign to his ears.

“I do not care of your name, tell me why are you here before I drag you to the watch—,”

“—oh, now you’re loyal to the crows? The last time I saw you, you threw a punch at the Lord Commander.”

What? How did she know of it?

“Were you spying on us?” Aiming his sword closer to her throat. “Oh really? You’re asking me that? We’re wildlings, of course we spy on crows like you. Or are you really one?” Her question made him grunt in frustration. “Tell me why are you spying on me?”

“Because you’re different. You didn’t ask to be a crow!”

“You do not know that!”

“Oh but I do. I do,” she challenged him.

“And not to mention, your purple eye and sapphire eye caught our attentio-.” Aemond frustratingly tackled her down. “You’re wasting my time,” he hissed at her. Their faces are inches away from each other. She scoffed, “Am I? Or am I making your job far much more entertaining? You seem bored being stationed in this old fort,” she chuckles. 

This woman is insane.

“This is going nowhere. For the last time, tell me why are you here,” he warned her. “Before I cut your throat, you savage.”

“Do you want to be trapped among these crows, snow haired?” She asked. 

Did he want to be trapped amongst these crows?

The watch?

No. 

But he could not admit that.

Not to a fucking wildling.

“You know nothing, wildling.”

“Oh but I know some things. I know you wished to be freed from this prison.” 

He did.

He did want to be free.

“You are such a know it all, wildling.”

“Aye, I am a savage. But I am also a free woman. Do you want to be free like me?”

Her eyes bore into his healthy eye. “If you were to kill me, you could’ve done that minutes ago. You would’ve cut my throat right here, right now. But you didn’t. For you knew my offer is too interesting to igno-,”

“Do not test me, you savage.” 

She scoffed at him.

“Then do it. Cut my throat. Drag me to those men you call brothers,” she challenged him.

Aemond aimed his sword at her.

One swift motion, her throat would be slit and she will lie there lifeless in his arms. That's easy. 

But why couldn’t he move?

His sword just stayed in place. 

He was a ruthless warrior who burned everything to the ground. He slew the strong family line. He killed those bastards and beheaded their men. Killing a wildling is nothing to him.

But he didn’t.

Fuck.

For she could free him from the watch. 

“Come with me. And you can escape from this place. I can help you go back to your home behind the wall. If you agree to come with me.”

She can take him home?

To Kings Landing.

His mother.

The keep.

“And you can help us as well. You don’t have to stay and become a crow—,”

“Targaryen!”

He heard a watch man called him from afar with Jack pointing to Aemond’s direction with the wildling. “Ah so that’s your name. Targaryen,” she jokingly said with a light laugh. She shoved Aemond away making him stumble back onto the hard floorboards of the fort. “Catch her!” He heard a watchman said again as they ran towards them. Aemond picked himself up and was ready to leap and stab the wildling. 

To no avail, the wildling was swift and jumped on the edge of the bridge. 

“This is my cue to leave. My offer stands still, Targaryen. We shall meet again.”

Giving Aemond a wink before jumping down, nowhere to be seen. Disappearing into the cold night air.

a/n: woohooo Aemond finally gets to meet the reader! Hope he’s fond of us🫶🏻🐇 Anw thank you for reading this chapter until the end! I will upload the next chapter asap<3 Alsooo I currently don’t have any taglist so if you want me to tag you in upcoming chapters just LMK🌷

🍰current tags: @suntizme @8812-342 @ladytargg @barnes70stark @magpiewritingsforonce (bold means I can’t tag you and idk why😔🐦‍⬛)

[delulujuls]

silent carnival | ln4, op81

i will just leave this here without any particular comment. im glad that the las vegas is over and im even more glad that lando is okay. anyway, please enjoy it as always!

summary: lando crashed and went to the hospital, y/n and oscar coming to the rescue

warnings: nothing i think

pairing: lando norris x fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri

The prevailing silence in the car was almost deafening, even the radio didn't dare to hum songs. The only audible sound was the quiet engine working at full throttle, ready to reach the destination as quickly as possible.

Y/N and Oscar sat next to each other in the back seat, gazing at the night landscapes illuminated by fiercely glowing neon lights. Neither of them was in the mood for conversation. The atmosphere was truly worse than gloomy.

Las Vegas was way much more than intense. The city pulsated with nightlife, decidedly more than any other place where Formula 1 had the pleasure to visit. That's why the silence that surrounded the McLaren drivers was quite shocking. However, this silence was entirely justified. It emerged when the orange car with number four on it submerged in sparks and concluded its disastrous ride in the barriers. Right then, all of Las Vegas froze; right then, the entire McLaren garage held its breath.

When the taxi parked at the hospital driveway, the pair quickly stepped outside and headed towards the entrance. After talking to the woman in the reception point and facing temporary difficulties finding the right room, they humbly sat on chairs in front of it. They had to wait until the tests were completed and the doctors left the room, allowing them to come in.

Seeing Y/N nervous, Oscar wordlessly embraced her, providing comfort. She closed her eyes and leaned on his shoulder, knowing well that she wouldn't calm down until she saw Lando with her own eyes.

After some time, when two doctors and a nurse left, the couple entered the room. Lando was genuinely surprised to see his friends, but he smiled seeing them.

The girl quickly approached the bed, ready to hug him, but she hesitated and lowered her outstretched arms, not wanting to cause him unnecessary pain. However, Lando pulled himself up a bit, reaching out to her and allowing the embrace. Oscar exchanged a reassuring look with his friend, smiling at him encouragingly. He sat on the bed and also hugged Lando, soothingly patting his back.

"You gave us quite a scare," Y/N murmured, still holding him tightly.

"It looked worse than the actual outcome it brought," he replied.

After some time, she pulled away and sat beside him, scrutinizing him carefully. Fortunately, there were no signs of serious injuries, just a few bruises and bumps.

"Thank goodness you're okay," Oscar said, glancing at him. However, Lando didn't seem overly comforted.

"Maybe I'm fine, but I completely fucked the car. I'd rather something happened to me than—" "Don't even say that," Y/N quickly interrupted him, scolding him with her gaze.

"Our cars have been total crap for a few races now, so I think you did a favor to the factory people," Oscar remarked with a reassuring smile, lifting Lando's spirits a bit, although he still shook his head.

"Total massacre. At least you fought for our honor," Norris said, looking at the aussie.

"Fought is an understatement. Oscar was ready to throw hands," the girl laughed at his comment.

"Maybe it's for the best, considering how much of a disaster the track was. And you just crashed and hopped into the warm and comfy ambulance without giving a fuck—lots of space, delicious, perfectly chilled water, phew," Piastri joked, maintaining a serious demeanor.

Lando chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I'm glad this race is behind us," Norris admitted with a sigh, wincing as he adjusted himself on the bed. "It's just a shame about the outcome."

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder. "The most important thing is that you're okay."

"Since I'm fine, you shouldn't waste time here," Lando said, looking at his friends. "This is our last night in Vegas; I'd go for a wild party if I were you."

"Oh c'mon, fuck Vegas," Oscar cut in, shaking his head.

"I can't wait to leave this place," Y/N admitted, taking out her phone "I'll order us some champagne, what do you think? We need to toast to this cursed city."

"I'm a hundred percent in," Oscar nodded.

"I hope no one will be mad at us for a little party here," Y/N said, dialing a number.

"It's an open party, the McLaren house is open to everyone," Oscar added.

And as they said, so they did. Shortly after, three bottles of champagne appeared in the hospital room and each of the trio could swear that the shared evening was better than any party.

At some point, Lando stopped thinking about the past race and the unfortunate crash. His thoughts departed from that incident; he didn't even feel the pain of his bruised body as he held a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne in his hand. He couldn't also contain his smile as his friends danced in the middle of the hospital room, singing a song in his honor. At that moment, Lando was genuinely happy and understood that to feel this way, all he needed was the company of these two, who would do anything for him.

[alevicke]

Killers getting sick x gn!reader

- Huntress, Ghostface, Spirit and Shape -

No TWs needed as long as I'm concerned, but Danny is a bitch

(I'm sorry for any mistakes! English isn't my native language and I'm not used to writing because I feel too embarrassed of my English. I hope you still like it and enjoy it 🙏)

**Anna ( The Huntress)**

At first, she tries to ignore it

It starts with her coughing and sneezing sometimes but like, it's the forest, it could be a bit of dust annoying her

But it just keeps increasing

And God is she stubborn, she doesn't want to pay attention to it. She is busy, she has things to do, killing survivors and practicing throwing hatches won't be done all on its own

You can see it's getting worse

She's probably getting fever

But it doesn't matter how much you insist she doesn't want to listen to you

That's until she can't even throw and axe due to how much she's coughing and sneezing. Her nose is stuffed so badly

That's when she stops being a wolf and becomes your puppy

She apologizes for not listening to you

Please don't be too hard on her

You know she's stubborn and she's used to showing she's strong and not showing weaknesses

She had to survive through so much after all

But now she's your whiny puppy and wants your attention

Please, be by her side

Even if she doesn't like taking off her mask, she trusts you enough to do it

I mean, she doesn't want to sneeze on the mask and ruin it

But she always keeps an eye on it

She wants your attention so much now

Your hugs, your kisses, your pets

She's not used to showing she's weak but she knows she can trust you

Although she'll still be careful that others do not know her codnition

Some people (Danny) might get annoyed and try to take advantage of the situation when they normally could not go against her

Once she gets better she'll still be clingy appreciating everything you did for her

Although you may be the one getting sick now after being around a sneezing Anna the whole time...

**Danny (Ghostface)**

You know? Danny is not really that mindful

He's kind of annoying and childish sometimes

The first time he sneezed in a cleenex he literally looked for you, paper in hand

"LOOK HOW GREEN AND GROSS IT IS"

The other times he sneezes he's being an annoying bitch and won't even cover his mouth

He might even directly point at you just to mess with you and laugh at you

That's until he realizes he was getting sick and it wasn't just normal sneezing

"Oh fuck"

Yeah, he finally realizes he was sneezing on you while being sick and could have gotten you sick as well

He's so goddamn dramatic as soon as he has a tiny bit of fever

"Oh god, oh Lord. OH ENTITY. I think I'm dying S/O. That's it. I'm done. I'm fucked up. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel!"

He barely even has a fever. His nose is stuffed and that's about it

Every time he coughs he tries to make it sound even worse than the clown

He's so loud

And you just KNOW he wants your attention

If he doesn't get it that way he'll start calling you

"Baby... Sweetheart... Honey... Please... Sweetie... I need you... PLEASE..."

Please, go. The names will get even chessier

"My sweet baby... My cute angel... Light of my life..."

You actually wonder if he's just messing with you

"My sweet spicy Pumpking Starbuck's Coffee..."

Ok Danny fuck off

He finally grabs your attention and is a whiny baby the whole time about pain, sneezes and everything

When he finally recovers he'll be bragging around that he didn't even "notice" that he was sick

Nope, so brave, all on his own. Yeap

He'll still appreciate you and will thank you in private

But he thinks he has an status and appearance to maintain (no one actually gives a shit about him)

**Rin (The Spirit)**

It started as a few normal sneezes

Uhmm, weird. She doesn't usually sneeze

At least not more than once

She still decides to go to the trial like nothing

But it's easy to spot there is something wrong

She cannot keep up with the survivors as good as she usually can

They of course take advantage of that and rush the generators and throw some pallets on her

She takes even longer than usual to recover from the pallet and flashlights make her even more blind

She struggles and covers her face and head after the flashligh

She can feel her head starts to hurt and you can sense her behaviour is being off and weird

If you're in the trial you can offer yourself as the only sacrifice although she would rather not doing it

You can insist though, you don't want the entity punishing her when you can feel something is wrong

If she accepts she'll be gentle (I mean, as gently as you can be hooking someone like a dead pig meat)

Once you two are alone, you put your hand in her forehead to feel her temperature raised

She will complain that she's fine but she's smart, she knows she isn't

She just wants you to go away so she doesn't get you sick as well

If you keep insisting she will let you take care of her

But don't expect her to request nor call you if she needs something. She's too worried of annoying you

So please, visit her often to see how she is going

She will appreciate your help so much, really, a lot

And also your company. She feels so lonely

Still she will ask you not to get too close to avoid getting sick

She would feel awful if you do

No kisses nor hugs while she's sick! 100% forbidden

But as soon as she recovers she'll make up for all those hugs and kisses missed and will bath you in them 💖

**Michael Myers (The Shape)**

The unfeeling rock. Not a sound, not a noise, not a word

Wait, was that a sneeze?

Oh shit it was

You didn't ever hear a word from him, besides grunts and growls this is probably the first time you hear a different sound from him

Oh, he coughed

As exciting as it could be to hear new interactions and voices from your boyfriend, you know something's terrible wrong

This guy can easily tank any illness on his own, he's too proud and solitary

His health is also on spot, so he NEVER gets sick

But once he does... Shit's gonna get real

Out of all the killers, he gets the sickest of them all

Some of them could argue that he gets worse than even Plague sometimes

He will stay in bed and not request your help but he actually does need some help

His fever is high, he's trembling and his nose is stuffed

Getting is mask off will be the hardest job you'll ever have in your life, I promise

And still, you probably won't even manage to take it off completely, just enough to encoder his lips and nose

And good luck keeping this guy in bed. He will try to get up for absolutely everything

He hates standing in bed and standing still when it's not about stalking someone. The patience he has just disappears

He'll be an absolute mess in bed but you taking care of him truly helps him 💖

He won't say it, but once he's healed, you can notice he's following you around like a puppy a lot more

He becomes way more overprotective and expect to have his hand all the time in your shoulder or back

He cannot thank you vocally but you can feel his appreciation through these kinds of actions

And oh Entity have mercy in the poor soul who dares to mistreat you while he's with you

[earthtoharlow]

Flashing Lights

17) Only Human

Jack Harlow x Singer!OC

series masterlist

“I’m sorry, ma'am but the next flight out won’t be for a couple more hours.” Maryse simply nodded and walked away from the desk. She was two seconds away from having a breakdown. Maryse texted Jack an update, despite him not being able to see it until he woke up and plopped down in the uncomfortable seats of the airport, laying her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the last three weeks on her shoulders.

She and Jack had hardly spoken for longer than a couple minutes at a time because of the different time zones. Her day was ending while he was just getting his day started. Things between them had been strained since Jack brought up wanting to move in together, the distance making it worse.

There was nothing Maryse was more sure of than the fact that she’s deeply in love with Jack, although it wasn’t easy, she was looking forward to spending time with him this weekend. The delay did give Maryse the time to think about the conversation she knew she was going to have with Jack.

Moving in with Jack always felt like a distant dream. Deep down, she knew that she wanted nothing more than to build a life with him, to wake up next to him everyday. Maryse just wasn’t sure if she was ready to let go of the independence she fought so hard to maintain. She knew that some of her hesitation stemmed from her trauma from her relationship with Nate. She feared repeating the same mistakes, and feared opening herself up to the possibility of more hurt. Now she just needed to find a way to express all of this to Jack.

Hours passed felt like eternity before her flight was cleared for takeoff. The only thing she could think about as she boarded the plane was Jack and how they’re finally going to be together again.

As the plane touched down in New York, she rushed through the crowded airport, her pulse quickening with each step. And there, waiting for her at the arrival gate, was Urban, he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her.

“Hey, you made it!” He exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world! How late am I?” She asked as they walked out the airport and to the parking garage.

“The City Girls just started their set, so we should make it before Jack’s set.”

Maryse nodded, slightly overwhelmed that she almost missed his performance and leaned her head on the glass window, and watched the car’s speed by.

“You know, Jack missed you a lot.” Urban mentioned, glancing over at her before focusing back on the road.

“I know.”

****

Jack paced around backstage nervously, he glanced at his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. Urban had texted him saying he had picked Maryse up from the airport. He could feel his heart sinking with each passing moment. With the unexpected flight delay from Berlin, he had been anxiously awaiting her arrival, the fear that she wouldn’t make it in time gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

“Jack, I’m giving you five more minutes but you can’t keep the fans waiting. You’ll see her after the show.” Neelam tried to stress to him.

Jack just shook his head at his manager, Maryse was going to make it. He knew she would. The minutes started to feel like hours and just when he was about to give up, he caught sight of Maryse rushing towards him, and a smile of relief spread across his face, all his fears melting away.

Maryse reached him slightly out of breath, Jack immediately pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly against his chest as if he was afraid to let her go. “I thought you weren’t gonna make it.” he whispered, voice filled with emotion. He missed her so much.

She smiled up at him, tearing up at the sight of him. “I was going to get here even if I was going to have to fly the plane myself!”

Jack let her go slightly so he could get a good look at her. “You look beautiful.” He said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Maryse’s face was free of makeup, she recently cut her hair, wanting to embrace her natural curls and she looked amazing.

“I just had a 9 hour flight, I’m not sure beautiful is how I’d describe myself!” Maryse said, a self-conscious smile tugging at her lips.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known,” he insisted. “So cheesy, but thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and she stood on her tippy toes to give him a kiss. She missed him so much.

As they broke the kiss, Neelam interrupted them. “Sorry to interrupt, but Jack we need to get you on stage,” she said, her tone urgent.

“Go, I’ll be right here watching.” Maryse reassured him and pushed him slightly towards Neelam.

As Maryse watched Jack on stage, a sense of awe washed over her. His energy up there was infectious, she found herself falling more in love with him. Despite having seen him perform countless times before, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time he took the stage.

She realized just how much she loved seeing this side of him – the side that was bold, the side that chased his dreams no matter what. It was a side of him that she cherished.

In the back of Maryse's mind the nagging thought of the topic of them moving in together needed to be had tonight. She had been avoiding it for far too long, no more excuses. As much as she loved Jack, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t ready for that next step.

Maryse knew that she needed more time to grow and to heal, to come to terms with her fears and insecurities. But deep down, she also knew that her reluctance didn’t mean she would never be ready.

Her thoughts were cut short when she heard Jack signal for the music to fade and motioned for the crowd to quiet down. The audience leaned in, eager to hear what Jack had to say, “So, tonight, I have a very special guest backstage watching me perform.”

Jack paused for dramatic effect, scanning the crowd with a twinkle in his eye before pointing towards the wings of the stage where Maryse stood watching, a surprised expression on her face and began shaking her head when he tried to motion for her to join him on stage. “She’s begging me not to bring her up on stage!”

“But I had to make this the best show ever because of her,” he continued, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I mean, I couldn’t have her back there thinking I’m anything less than a superstar, right?”

The audience burst into laughter and she watched from backstage, face flushed with embarrassment but she couldn’t help but laugh along.

After Jack finished performing the last couple songs, Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield played on the speakers as he walked off stage, a wide smile spread across his face, sweat glistening on his skin. Before he could catch his breath, Maryse rushed towards him in excitement.

Ignoring the sweat that clung to his skin, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face against his chest. Jack laughed in delight as she showered his face with kisses, her laughter mingling with his own. They were lost in their own little bubble of happiness oblivious to the world around them.

The only thing that could dampen the mood was his own thoughts. Despite the joy of their reunion and the overwhelming love he felt for her in that moment, Jack knew that the conversation they were going to have back at the hotel would be a tough one. He couldn’t shake the fear that perhaps Maryse wasn’t ready, that their dreams didn’t align as perfectly as he had hoped.

But as he watched her smile up at him, her eyes sparkling with love and adoration, he couldn’t bear to dampen the mood. He wanted nothing more than to savor this moment with her, to bask in the warmth of her love.

Jack knew that the conversation could not be avoided forever, and as they made their way back to the hotel, he couldn’t shake the sense of apprehension that settled in the pit of his stomach. No matter how much he wished otherwise, he knew that they would have to talk sooner rather than later.

****

As they entered the hotel room, nervous energy hung in the air. Maryse began doing mundane tasks, straightening the pillows on the bed while Jack adjusted the curtains by the windows to delay the inevitable.

But as the minutes ticked by, the silence between them grew unbearable, until it felt like a weight pressing down on their shoulders. And then, almost as if on cue, they both opened their mouths to speak at the same time.

“I think we need to talk…” they began in unison, their voices overlapping in a tangled mess of words.They paused, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared understanding. With a nervous laughter they both sat on the edge of the bed.

Jack ran his hands up and down his thighs nervously, Taking a deep breath, he broke the silence that had settled between them. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said… about not being ready to move in together,” he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Maryse started playing with the rings on her fingers nervously, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Your reaction kind of confused me, to be honest.” Jack continued, his words careful and measured. “I mean, I thought we were in this together, you know? I thought we both wanted the same things.”

Maryse felt a lump form in her throat as she struggled to find the right words to respond. She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes fixed on the ground. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air.

“I just don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. “It feels like every time we try to take a step forward, you pull back. I know that Nate hurt you, but that wasn’t me.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and regret. “I’m sorry, just… I felt so small after my breakup with Nate.” Maryse began, “I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to feel like I’m losing myself in someone else.”

His eyes narrowed slightly in disbelief, “That’s just an excuse, isn’t it? You’re just afraid of getting hurt again.”

Maryse began shaking her head. “It’s not an excuse,” she insisted, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m just… I’m not ready, okay? I need more time.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, his patience wearing thin. “I love you, but this relationship is starting to feel like a 9-5 job.” he admitted, his voice laced with frustration.

Her heart sank at his words, the sting of his frustration piercing through her like a knife. She had never meant to make him feel this way, to suffocate their love with her own insecurities and fears.

Jack could feel himself getting overwhelmed with frustration. “What more do I have to do to prove to you that I care about you? Sometimes, it feels like you’re just stringing me along!” He blurted out, his words came out harsh and unforgiving.

Maryse's eyes widened in shock, brimming with tears. Hurt flashing across her face. “That’s not fair, how could you say that?!” she protested, her voice cracked as she spoke. “I love you, you know that.”

Before Maryse could say anything else, Jack uttered words that he would later regret. “Maybe that’s not enough.” his voice heavy with regret, “Maybe we should both just move on.”

Her heart immediately shattered at his words. “Is that what you really want?” Maryse asked, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes pleading for him to take it back.

He hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. But in that moment of weakness, he couldn’t find the strength to retract them. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice hollow with regret.

Maryse stood up, not being able to sit so close to him. Tears streamed down her face, as she grabbed her things from the hotel. The room felt like it was closing in. “I really, truly love you,” she said, holding in her sob. “And if this is what you want, if you want to break up, then fine. But don’t you dare try to run back to me, I might not still be waiting for you.”

As she made her way through the quiet corridors of the hotel, her heart felt heavy with sadness. She didn’t want to go through the process of moving on from him, she didn’t want Jack to become another thing she had to heal from. Maryse knew what she said before she left wasn’t entirely true. Despite the hurt, she would always wait for him. As she stood by the elevators she was hoping he would run out and apologize and say he didn’t mean it but unfortunately that moment never came.

Maryse couldn’t stop the tears from falling, not fully believing that it was over. She loved Jack more than any sane person could love another. This, she realized, was what she had been afraid of all along – losing herself in the aftermath of their breakup. The thought of facing the world without him by her side was terrifying, a gaping void in her life that she didn’t know how to fill. She had become so accustomed to relying on him for support and validation that now she didn’t know what to do without him.

Thankfully, since they were in New York she could spend the night in the comfort of her own bed but as she slowly walked in everything suddenly reminded her of Jack. It was like everything was mocking her and the breakup.

With trembling hands, she reached for her phone and texted CoCo, her words concise and to the point. “Hey, I need the next flight out. Something urgent came up,” she typed, her fingers hovering over the send button for a moment before finally pressing send.

Maryse knew eventually she would have to tell her what happened, but right now all she wanted to do was cry and then throw herself back into her work, to lose herself in the music and the rhythm of the tour. That was the only thing she could do.

***

As the door clicked shut behind her, Jack stood frozen in the now empty hotel room. He wanted nothing more than to chase after her, to beg for her forgiveness. He could feel his chest start to cave in, every breath felt like a struggle.

The thought of having to face the world without her left him feeling empty. Maryse has been his every thought since they met. He didn’t know what he was going to do without her. She had been his rock, his confidante, his everything. Now a piece of him felt like it was missing.

Jack could no longer hold back his emotions, with a choked sob he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his grief. He picked up his phone quickly when he heard it ringing, hoping it was Maryse saying that she was going to come back, but when he saw that it was Jason telling him that a news crew was coming to his concert tomorrow night the phone suddenly felt heavy and suffocating in his grasp. With a cry of anguish, he hurled it across the room, the sound of its impact against the wall echoing in the empty space.

The room felt smaller, suffocating, as if closing in on him from all sides. He longed to escape, to run away from the pain that threatened to consume him. But there was no escape from the reality of the breakup, no way to undo the hurtful words that were said.

Jack’s mind was flooded with memories of their early days together. He couldn’t help but think back to that night at the bar when she had been a little tipsy and a lot more vulnerable. He remembered the way she had looked up at him with those big, doe eyes, her voice slurred as she whispered “I’m really starting to like you, don’t hurt me, ok?”

In that moment he had immediately felt the urge to protect her. And without hesitation, he had promised her that he would never hurt her and to do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy.

But now, as he sat alone in the silence of the hotel room, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his broken promise bearing down on him. He had let his anger and frustration get the best of him, and had said things that he knew would hurt her deeply.

Jack knew he would have to do whatever it took to make things right. He couldn’t change the past, couldn’t undo the hurtful words he had spoken, but he could make a promise to do better, to be better, in the future.

***

an: so what do y’all wanna chat about? 🏃🏽‍♀️

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

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[otherworldlylovey-dovey]

leon taking care of a drunk talkative clingy s/o?

Oh, honey! That's cute, and kind of funny since Leon is also a fan of alcohol (due to untreated depression and trauma), but here I assume the blond is sober, here's your request for fictional love, dear.

Leon taking care of his drunk, talkative and clingy partner

From the moment his partner starts to wobble and talk non-stop, Leon would go into caretaker mode, supporting her when she walks and making sure she doesn't hurt herself or do anything embarrassing. He'd put a firm arm around her, and although he'd keep his stoic expression, it would be obvious that he was attentive to her every move, ready to intervene if necessary. (I think we all thought the same thing when we said that we don't need to be drunk to want those strong arms around us, grrrrrr- sorry)

Leon wouldn't resist making some ironic comments and jokes, especially since his partner would be in "all the love in the world" mode, hugging him and saying clingy things. He would try to be firm and serious, but between small laughs and comments like:

"Well, looks like you're clingier than a licker tonight"

he would do his best to keep her in a good mood while taking care of his noisy love.

-Leon, don't leave me! Stay with me forever, okay? You're so strong… and handsome… and—-. Leon, holding back his laughter -I have no plans to leave. Besides, I think you're the one who's not letting go-. O/S hugging him even tighter -You're my hero, you know that? My very own action knight!-. -Action knight? That's a new one… although I don't know if the title matches the smell of tequila you're wearing-.

Leon, with his patience and sense of duty, doesn't care much if his partner talks faster than the speed of light, he'll listen to her as she pours out endless compliments and anecdotes. At first, he'll just nod and respond with short sentences, trying to calm her down a bit.

-You know what, Leon? You're like… the best hero in the world. Have I told you that before? Because… it's true!-

-Yeah? Sure, you've mentioned it… about three times in the last five minutes...but I don't mind hearing it again.-

-And have I told you about the time when… when…? Well, I don't remember anymore, but it was important.- -I'm sure it was an incredible story, even if you only told half of it.-

If you started hugging him and clinging to him, Leon would try to hide his discomfort and even smile a little, although he would notice the internal struggle to maintain his composure in public. He would hold you carefully and put an arm around you, saying something low but understanding.

-Okay, okay, I got you… but remember there are witnesses here.-

While his partner is still clinging to him, Leon would avoid any curious glances from others and perhaps try to guide her to a more private place, thinking it's better to let her be clingy in a quieter space.

If his drunk partner started raising her voice and saying embarrassing things to him in public, Leon would be visibly uncomfortable and stay silent for a few seconds, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention.

“Leon is the most amazing, brave, handsome man! Isn’t he?” Leon, whispering -Well, well, of course he is… but maybe there’s no need for a public announcement.-

If you continued to make even more embarrassing comments, Leon might sigh and say quietly,

“Okay, why don’t we save this praise for later? I don’t need a chorus of onlookers… really.”

Even with the blush and firm tone, he would still be protective, treating her with affection but also with the intention of quickly getting her out of the public eye before the situation got worse.

But if you are more daring in your comments…honey…it will depend on you if you want to wake up with a headache or a sore butt.

-Leon… I'm scared of your clothes, take them off.- Leon giving him a warning look but with a smile on his lips -Don't think this can't have consequences just for talking like that.- his partner laughing. -Why not? Maybe I'll be encouraged if there's a good reward at the end…- Leon, raising an eyebrow.- I'll make sure you get your reward, but I don't promise to be lenient.-

Although, he's really just saying this to be sarcastic, playful, and even flirt back, but Leon wouldn't sleep with his partner if he's in that drunk and vulnerable state, as he probably wouldn't want to take advantage of a situation he's not completely in control of, he's a good baby.

Although Leon is reserved by nature, if his partner starts saying nice things to him and showering him with hugs and kisses, he would greet her with a small, resigned smile, enjoying a little of the adoration she shows him. Maybe he would even reply, with a somewhat ironic tone.

“I didn’t know alcohol made you so poetic, but go on… I’m starting to get used to this whole ‘perfect hero’ thing.”

Finally, he would stay by his side, making sure his love was okay and not suffering too much from his hangover. Maybe he would carry his to bed and stay close, stroking his hair softly as you fell asleep, thinking that despite how clumsy and adorable you are when you are drunk, he wouldn't trade you for anything.

The next day, Leon would probably gently remind her of her confessions from the night before, but always in a loving manner and without embarrassing her. He would say something like.

-You seemed like an excited fan last night, what happened to all that bravery?.-

[hbyrde36]

No Vacancy

Chapter 2: Housekeeping

WC: 4783 | R: Explicit | CH: 2/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1

*STEVE*

Steve and Robin were kneeling side-by-side, wrist deep in dirt, pulling weeds and planting new annuals in the red brick planter box that surrounded the motel's sign.

It was his first full day off since he’d arrived in town, and even in the midst of manual labor in the sweltering heat, he was enjoying having a little time in the sun without having to keep an eye on tourists who didn’t understand how dangerous an undertow could be. He didn’t mind being put to work, in fact he’d asked for this, knowing it was the only way he was going to get to spend some quality time with his best friend, as busy as she was. 

He dipped his head, blinking away the sweat that trickled into his eyes while they worked. It was late morning, and though the day had started out at a comfortable seventy five degrees or so, it was now nearing the mid nineties and rising. 

“You know you don’t have to help out around here. You are a paying guest.” Robin said, not for the first time since they had started this little project. 

“Yes, but only because I forced you to take my money.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I still maintain that I owe you enough in gas money from all the rides you’ve given me over the years, that you should have your own room here free of charge forever.” 

“No. This place is your livelihood—I don’t mind paying!”

“Oh I'm taking the money, because god knows we could use it, but don’t be surprised when I find a way to slip it back to you one day.”

Steve smiled to himself, shaking his head. He had no doubt she would do just that. 

As nice as it was, hanging out with Robin wasn’t his only motivation for seeking out tasks around the motel in his downtime. He’d become so used to being up and out by dawn every morning, that he hadn’t known what to do with himself when he woke up that day. 

Like clockwork his eyes had snapped open around six a.m., his body’s natural alarm waking him up at the time it was used to—except he had nowhere to go, no place he had to be, and the thought of hanging around while Eddie was asleep, or worse, being there when Eddie woke up made him want to vomit. 

Although, Steve had taken a few minutes to lay quietly in the dim light of their room and gaze at the man resting in the other bed, something he hadn’t allowed himself to do before then. 

He’d admired the dark spill of Eddie’s curls across the stark white of the pillow case, and the fullness of his lips as they curved into the hint of a smile, reacting no doubt to whatever pleasant dreams he was having. Steve itched to comb his fingers through all that hair, and feel those lips against his own, but he knew now he was more likely to get struck by lightning than to ever be allowed to touch Eddie Munson like that.

Steve was unwelcome in their shared space, that much was obvious, and no matter how desperately he wanted to show Eddie that he wasn’t the same asshole from high school, it was impossible to do that when they never saw each other. That hurdle was what had given him the idea to start leaving coffee behind for the other man. It was a small gesture really, one that didn’t cost him any extra time or money, but he hoped Eddie recognized it for the olive branch that it was. 

Maybe coffee wasn’t enough though. How did the old saying go? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? Steve wondered what sort of breakfast pastry said, I like you and I want to be friends.

Bagels?

Muffins?

He could probably ask Chrissy for advice on Eddie’s favorite foods, but he wasn’t sure how to manage that without revealing his unfortunate crush. 

After a little more internal struggle he’d rolled out of bed, dressed quickly in his last pair of clean cut off shorts that were entirely too tight, and gone for a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head until he could bother Robin, though not before setting the coffee pot to brew like always.

Robin cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present with an unsubtle indicator that she was about to say something he wouldn’t like. 

Steve braced himself. 

“I meant to tell you,” she began, trying too hard to sound casual as she poked at the dirt with her small shovel. “A guest staying in a room near yours called in a noise complaint the other night. Apparently there was a bit of banging on the wall, and some loud moans.” 

She paused, giving significant eye contact before batting her lashes at him. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Steve dropped her gaze, opening and closing his mouth several times before responding.

“Yeah. Sorry… about that. Eddie, he um, brought someone home from the bar? I would offer to talk to him about it for you, but I'm pretty sure he hates my guts, so maybe it would be better if you or Chrissy said something to him about it.”

“What?!” Robin shrieked, mouth left hanging open.

Steve squirmed, feeling her eyes on him as he stared down into the small hole he was mindlessly digging. “It’s not a big deal. He brought someone home, so I went down to the pool area and slept on one of the chairs for a while to give them some privacy. It was fine.”

When he finally glanced up, Robin was rubbing at her temples, the dirt from her hands flaking off into her hair. 

“Jesus, Steve. I-I’m sorry. I thought–”

“You thought, what?”

“I thought you two had finally gotten your shit together!” She rushed out. “I should have known something was wrong when you came to me all mopey this morning asking for busy work on your only day off.”

Steve swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. Was he that obvious? Did she know—had she known, all this time? He thought he’d been hiding his feelings pretty well up till now. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said eventually, like a liar, knowing full well it would never fly.

“No?” She hummed, tapping her chin “Tell me then, which part are you confused about? The one where you’ve had a massive crush on Eddie since high school, or the part where Eddie also has a huge crush on you that he hides by pretending he hates you?”

“Neither of those things is true,” he said, doubling down on his lie while pointing his trowel at her threateningly. “And I'm not mopey.” 

Robin gave him a sarcastic, yet somehow still sympathetic, smile before patting him on the head like a dog.

He frowned. 

“Stevie, honey, platonic love of my life, you are so full of shit. I’ve watched for years as you hung on every word Chrissy said about Eddie, and I've seen the little hearts drawn in your old yearbook. Did you really think I didn’t know?”

“Fiiine,” Steve groaned. “If I admit that I like him will you please drop this?”

She didn’t even hesitate.

“Nope.”

He raked a hand over his face, smearing dirt along his nose and forehead in the process no doubt. 

“Tell me more about this dude he brought home,” Robin said, pressing on.

Steve threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know—It was like three in the morning! I was still half asleep when I walked past the guy!”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “Wait, wait, wait. Did Eddie wake you up, in the middle of the fucking night, and make you leave your own room so he could get it on with some other guy?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Yes, obviously, and please—for the love of god—don’t ever say ‘get it on’ to me again.”

She stood, wiping her hands off on her pants as she rose and started to march off in the direction of his and Eddie’s room. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Steve jumped up in a panic, knowing she would only make things worse when they were tense enough as it was, and grabbed onto her wrist to hold her back. “Stop! It’s fine. We kinda… talked about it ahead of time, okay? I knew this was a possibility.”

“Why on earth would you agree to that?!” She hollered.

“What was I supposed to say, Robs?!” Steve shouted back. “Oh, sorry Eddie. I know you hate me and all because I was such a dick back in the day, but I've been pining over you from afar for the better part of a decade, and it’s gonna kill me to see you hook up with other people?!!”

Steve sucked in a breath, suddenly remembering that they were out in public where anyone could overhear, including Eddie. He looked frantically around the courtyard but luckily the coast seemed to be clear. 

“I’m sorry.” Robin said, voice gone soft. She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. 

He sagged against her, taking the comfort she offered for a minute before pulling away. “It’s okay. I knew what I was putting myself through when I agreed to share the room.”

“Can’t you at least tell him he has to take his hook-ups somewhere else?” She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “It’s not an unreasonable request for a roommate. Maybe you could talk to him the next time you guys hang out.”

“What part of, he hates me, do you not understand? We don’t hang out.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t hate you, Steve.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll believe that, when you believe that you have a shot with Chrissy “

“That is completely different!”

“How?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well for one thing, we’re actually friends,” she fired back, “and I don't want to mess that up.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“Sorry.” Robin winced. “I don’t know, maybe I could have told her before we bought this place, but now we’re in business together. If I told her how I felt and she didn’t feel the same way it could ruin everything!.”

Steve didn’t think there was a chance in hell that Chrissy wasn’t just as crazy about Robin as Robin was about her, but he understood the hesitation.

“I guess we’ll both just have to keep suffering in silence then.” He sighed.

She clinked her small shovel against his as if they were toasting with wine glasses. “At least we’ll be in our misery together.”

It wasn’t long before they were done with the flowers and Steve had no more excuse to put off going back to his room. He badly needed to do some laundry anyway since he was completely out of clean swim trunks, and Robin needed to get back behind the front desk. He could only hope that Eddie was awake now at least. 

Steve paused to admire their handiwork before walking away, and couldn’t help noticing something off about the motel’s sign.  

“Hey,“ he said, waving Robin around to his side. “Why’s the ‘no’ on your ‘no vacancy’ sign out? I thought you were booked up?”

“Oh–uh–yea!” Robin sputtered. “I mean, we do have free rooms here and there for some individual nights, but you’re right! I think there’s a bulb out or a loose wire or something. I-I already have a call into our maintenance guy about it, I bet he just hasn’t had the chance to get out here yet.”

Steve perked up, ready to jump at another chance to keep himself busy. “Do you want me to have a look at it for you? I’m pretty handy these days.”

“No!” Robin said quickly. “Thanks, but it’s under control. I remember now, Andreas said he was coming tomorrow, actually. I don't want him to think we’re cheating on him with another maintenance man.”

Steve eyed her curiously. Something definitely felt… off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. He was probably just being paranoid. She was probably worried he would break something.

He shrugged it off. “Whatever you say.”

Steve took several deep calming breaths as he climbed the short staircase up to the second floor, attempting to settle his nerves before seeing Eddie face to face again. He unlocked the door with nervous fingers, almost immediately sagging in relief when he realized the room was empty. 

It was a little early for Eddie to be at the bar, he thought, but maybe they’d needed him to come in ahead of his shift for some reason. Either way, Steve was grateful for the moment alone with his thoughts, even as a small part of him was irrationally disappointed. 

After plopping down on the end of his bed, Steve dropped his head in his hands. 

He shouldn’t be this hung up on a guy he barely knew, let alone one that couldn’t stand to be around him. It wasn’t healthy—and It was ridiculous, honestly, considering they hadn’t actually spent that much time together, or any time really. He had precious few memories of watching Eddie from the shadows of his own popularity back in school, and most of what he knew about the guy now had come third party through Chrissy and Robin. 

Maybe he just needed to get out more.

Steve had been a bit of a serial dater in his teens, but by his senior year thought he’d found ‘the one’, in a girl named Nancy wheeler. After a soul-crushing breakup in the bathroom of a Halloween party that neither of them had even wanted to go to, Steve swore off the whole institution, at least for a while. 

He found Robin soon after, his actual one true love, when they both worked the same after school job at a nautical themed ice cream shop, and she became the best friend he’d always wanted.  

Their friendship had been everything to him for a while. He even went to the community college so he could stay in town while she finished her own senior year and they spent every moment together that they could—until Robin graduated and went off to her fancy school a whole state away, and Steve’s grades hadn’t been good enough to follow her. 

They still saw each other as often as they could. He would drive up on Friday nights and sleep over in her dorm room for the whole weekend, but things changed yet again when Robin met Chrissy. 

Hometown acquaintances who just happened to go to the same college. Suddenly the former band geek and the former cheerleading captain became the closest of friends, with the potential for more to anyone with eyes, and Steve worried that he would soon become a perpetual third wheel.

So, he started to put himself out there again. 

He went on a few dates with women, and even more with men, once he’d finally accepted his bisexuality and rediscovered the beauty of callused hands and strong jawlines with a bit of stubble. In the back of his mind, Steve had always known he was attracted to men, but for better or worse, made the choice to ignore that part of himself for years because it was easier, and safer, to just be straight. 

In the end, all it took was one drunken weekend hook up at a frat party on Robin and Chrissy’s campus to open his eyes to everything he’d been denying himself. 

It’d made him look back and remember things he'd tried hard to forget about. 

Like his all consuming crush on an old classmate that he’d thought was long over with, but came rushing back with a vengeance when he realized that the Eddie from Chrissy’s stories about her own male best friend, was the same wild-haired metalhead that Steve used to daydream about in English class. Suddenly he was listening with rapt attention to each detail she shared, and was more than happy to see every picture and post card the man sent her, even if his handwriting was illegible. 

When Steve first arrived and Robin asked him to bunk with Eddie after realizing their mistake, he’d been over the moon, thinking that maybe he’d finally have a chance with the guy he’d been infatuated with for so long. Those hopes were swiftly shattered beyond recognition when he saw the look on Eddie’s face after he entered the lobby. 

But, there was no use sulking about it now. 

He just had to make it through the summer. Twelve weeks.

He could do that. 

Ducking into the bathroom, Steve washed his hands and splashed some water over his face to get the worst of the dirt off, though only a shower would do the job properly—and gathered up his laundry before heading back out into the heat.

The place Robin had told him to go was less than a mile from the motel, so Steve decided to make his way there on foot. With his full bag of dirty clothes hoisted over his shoulder, he took his time, admiring the old Victorian houses with their lavish gardens as he passed by. He hadn’t really understood why Robin and Chrissy wanted to move here after college until he’d seen the place for himself. 

He got it now. 

The place was beautiful. it felt like life moved slower here, or maybe it just seemed that way because almost everyone you met was on vacation. 

After a pleasant walk, Steve finally reached his destination—and felt his heart sink into his shoes as he spotted a familiar head of dark curls sitting inside by the big front windows. 

He froze with his hand on the door, seriously considering running away and finding another place to do his wash. There had to be other laundromats in town, right? He would drive if he had to, anything to not be stuck in there waiting for his clothes to finish, while Eddie either ignored him or glared at him. 

Unfortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands entirely when he realized the other man had already turned, noticed him, and was now staring daggers at him through the glass. Steve probably looked like an idiot standing out there like a deer in headlights, not moving, so of course he overcompensated, swinging the door open too hard and throwing himself through it.

Eddie, for his part, looked a little stunned at Steve’s sudden appearance as well, which made him feel the tiniest bit better about the whole thing. Steve tried to save some face by smiling and giving the other man a little nod in greeting as he moved past on his way to the machines, but judging by the way Eddie continued to stare, he must have missed the mark of coming off cool and casual by a mile. 

He busied himself with separating his laundry into two of the washers, one for lights, one for darks, and tried to ignore the way he could still feel Eddie’s heavy gaze on him. His whole body flushed with heat under the attention, and his heart was beating so loudly he thought for sure anyone standing nearby would be able to hear it. 

When all that was done, he had no other choice but to make his way to the only seating in the establishment, the small grouping of chairs where Eddie currently was. He willed himself to chill the fuck out, and was pleased to find that by the time he turned around Eddie was no longer looking his way, and was instead nose deep in a months old edition of Rolling Stone.

Steve took a seat, skipping one chair to keep a polite distance between them, and wished he’d had the foresight to bring along a book or his walkman. He settled for a two year old Life Magazine that someone had left on a side table, not reading it so much as staring at it to avoid looking anywhere else. 

There was about five full minutes of tense silence before Steve felt eyes on him again.

“I thought you were working today.” Eddie blurted out.

Steve flinched a little at the sudden sound of his voice, but managed to play it off like he was flicking the hair out of his face. 

“No, I… uh, I finally got a day off.” He stuttered through his response, wondering how he’d ever been considered a smooth talker or a ladies man. 

Couldn’t prove it by him now.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah, same here.”

There was another long beat of quiet and Steve thought maybe he should say something else, try and strike up a conversation or something. He could do that, that was a normal thing for two guys who were essentially roommates, right? He was trying out a few different lines in his head when Eddie spoke again. 

“It's just that, you were gone when I woke up, so I thought—”

“I was helping Robin with some planting in the courtyard, flowers and stuff.” Steve explained, thrilled at getting out something resembling a complete human sentence this time. 

“Oh. That was… nice of you.” Eddie said with a furrowed brow.

Steve gave a small shrug and tried desperately to think of something to say next. Eddie had asked him a question, sort of. Well, he’d given him an opening to talk about his day at least. He should do something similar, he figured, but it was like his mind went blank every time he looked into Eddie's eyes. 

“How are things with your—friend, from the other night?” Steve asked, and immediately wanted to throw himself through the window.

Oh god, why.

Why had he picked that to say? What possessed him to bring up something so unbelievably awkward when this whole exchange had been, thus far, borderline unbearable. 

Eddie blinked a few times like he was taken aback, cheeks flushing pink as he answered. “Oh, that was just a one time thing, y’know? I don’t even know the guy’s name.”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

Cool. 

Something Steve had never been, clearly.

“Is it?” Eddie’s face hardened. “Or is King Steve, of all people, about to slut shame me for a one night stand?”

“I-I didn’t mean…”

“Sure you didn’t. You were single-handedly responsible for taking the virginity of who knows how many of the girls back in Hawkins, and you’re gonna sit here and judge me for sleeping with one guy?”

“No!” Steve dropped his magazine, holding his hands up as if surrendering. “I’m sorry. I swear I wasn’t trying to judge you, or shame you, or anything—you just…” 

“I. Just. What?” Eddie asked through a clenched jaw.

Steve wrapped his arms around himself, sank down in his seat, and sighed. “You just make me really nervous, Eddie.”

At least it was honest.

Of all the things Steve had said, that seemed to be the one that most threw the other man for a loop. Eddie sat there looking at Steve in stunned silence for several long seconds and then began howling with laughter.

Steve was almost offended. He’d told the truth, been vulnerable even. What was so fucking funny about the idea of him being nervous?

“I make you nervous?” Eddie managed to say between fits. “That’s a good one, big boy.”

Big boy.

Steve sat up straight, doing his best to pretend like that nickname hadn’t short-circuited his brain. He tried to frown but it was hard to do when Eddie’s eyes sparkled like that and he was actually smiling with his dimples on full display. 

Eddie took pity on him and eventually got himself under control. “Okay Steve, I believe you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Good. That’s good, man. Thanks”

“How long have you got on your washers?” Eddie asked, glancing up at a big clock that hung above the door.

“About 30 minutes I think, why?”

Eddie rose from his seat and inclined his head towards the door. “Come on.” 

Was this a trick?

“Where are we going?” Steve asked.

“There's a little cafe down on the corner, unless you’re not hungry?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean, I could eat.” Steve babbled.

Eddie laughed again, shaking his head. “ Let’s go then, my treat.”

“Why?”

Eddie paused at the door, an unreadable expression coloring his features when he looked back.

“Because I’m starting to think maybe I've been a little too hard on you, but I can't be sure. I figure, before I continue to be an asshole I should probably try and get to know you to make sure you deserve it first.”

Lunch with Eddie was great—amazing, actually. 

Not the food, although that was good too, but it was nothing compared to the company. 

Steve found that Eddie was surprisingly easy to talk to once he got started, and he finally got the chance to explain that in reality, he was nothing like his former high school persona. That it had been a combination of the fear of disappointing his parents, and good old fashioned peer pressure that led him to accept his role as King of Hawkins High. 

He told Eddie all about how going along with the popular crowd and being friends with people like Tommy and Carol were among the biggest regrets of his life so far, and there was a lot he’d change if he could go back.

“Unfortunately I didn’t have my big epiphany until halfway through senior year, right around the time Nancy dumped me and I met Robin. At that point it didn’t seem worth it to try and fix what I'd done, so I just let people keep thinking I was the same asshole I always had been, and tried to keep my head down until graduation.”

“And yet you wound up right back where you started.” Eddie said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a gym teacher back in Hawkins now, aren’t you?”

Steve couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “How did you know that?”

Eddie pressed his lips together, tilting his head back and forth. “Robin talks about you a lot, sometimes I even listen.”

Still smiling like an idiot, Steve dipped his chin in a nod. “Go ahead, laugh it up. I know you want to. Failed former jock becomes middle school gym teacher. I’m a walking cliché.”

“Not all cliché’s are bad.” Eddie shrugged. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, and no.” Steve answered honestly. “The kids are great, but... I never meant to stay in Hawkins.”

“Now that, Harrington, I understand completely.”

“I bet. How many different cities have you lived in now?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“Chrissy,” Steve answered simply. “I listen too, and I’ve seen all the photos and postcards.”

“Even the art prints from San Francisco?” Eddie covered his face like he was embarrassed but Steve could see him peeking through his fingers. 

It was painfully adorable.

Steve nodded, fighting to keep his expression serious. “I found them very tasteful.”

Eddie laughed again, loud and boisterous, and it was quickly becoming Steve's favorite sound in the world. 

“Alright, Stevie, alright. Even I can admit when I'm wrong. Maybe you’re not such a bad guy after all.”

They sat in the cafe talking until long after their food was gone and the plates had been cleared, eventually moving their conversation back to the laundromat when Steve remembered he still had to put his things in the dryer.

At one point Eddie even shared a little of his own background, how he’d come to live with his uncle at the beginning of fifth grade—that Wayne had been a better parent to him than either of his actual parents had been.

He told Steve that he’d fled Hawkins because the people there looked down on him, didn't understand him. They thought he was a freak, trailer trash, and would amount to nothing more than a lowlife drug dealer. He vowed to never move back, and he meant it, but wished he visited his uncle more.

Something shifted for good between the two of them that afternoon, Steve could feel it. 

The animosity Eddie held for him was gone like it never existed. He was friendly, flirty even, and Steve was on cloud nine, though he did feel like he was going to pass out every time Eddie smiled at him or casually bumped his shoulder. 

He wasn’t naive enough to think the other meant anything by it though, he knew his crush was one-sided no matter what Robin said, but at least now he felt like there was a real chance that they could actually be friends.

Chapter 3

@penny00dreadful @every-aj-needs-an-angel @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @epiclazershark @estrellami-1 @lokfae @raisedbylibrarians @impala314 @meganwinchester @kacatshi @warlordess

As always, just let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

[kurisus]

So you love noragami we all love it any reading recs of things like it? Or that you just like?

YES!!!!!

So I have to preface this by saying there's nothing quite like Noragami. And there is nothing wrong with rereading Noragami over and over. But I still have a lot of recs that give Vibes or in general make me Feel Emotions, so here's a non-exhaustive list.

Anime/Manga:

Fruits Basket by Natsuki Takaya. I've been saying for years that Fruits Basket is Noragami if it was a shoujo. It deals with the same cycles of abuse and an outsider who tries to break them with pure compassion that Noragami does, although it's much more of a drama than a fantasy. Just watch it and think of Yato as the Zodiac cat. I rest my case.

Fullmetal Alchemist (Fullmetal Alchemist) by Hiromu Arakawa. Chances are you've read or seen this already but it's objectively a masterpiece by any standard you care to use. Whether you like shounen fights, deeply emotional interpersonal relationships, political dramas about war and revolution, fantasy based on Greek myth, or anything else, FMA balances them all perfectly (another thing it has in common with Noragami). I love it so much.

Code Geass. This may seem like a wildcard pick but I rewatched Code Geass a few years ago and realized there are a lot of shared elements (like, Suzaku and Kazuma are the same guy). I may be delusional but it's hands down one of the most insane anime I've ever seen, in a good way. Like how FMA and Noragami balance a bunch of genres, Code Geass is a mecha action anime, a school slice of life, a political drama, and a Shakespearean tragedy all at the same time.

Chainsaw Man by Tatsuki Fujimoto. Again this may be one you're familiar with, but after I caught up on Part 1 of the manga I was so deeply wounded I had to start thinking about Noragami again (which is a worse idea). Chainsaw Man is much more of a Shounen™ than Noragami is, and I still maintain that the saddest parts of Chainsaw Man are like happier Noragami chapters, but it's a very good story and one that also has a lonely, cast-out protagonist who craves human affection but has no idea how to get it (and when he does, it's ripped away from him).

Durarara by Ryohgo Narita. In the anime adaptation, pretty much the entire voice cast is shared between it and Noragami (in the Japanese dub). It is a very weird story about a lot of weird people who are competing to be The Most Normal Person In Ikebukuro, a task which they all fail at spectacularly. It doesn't have much in common with Noragami aside from the voice cast but I love it so I recommend giving it a watch (or reading the light novels if you're feeling adventurous).

Link Click. This is a donghua (Chinese anime) about time travel and it steadily drives me more insane the longer I think about it. The three main characters have such lovely relationships with each other and the emotions go OUCH every time. It's a little harder to pinpoint the connection with Noragami here, but it is a story about the things people will do for love. The writing is crazy good especially considering it's not based on a novel or comic; I haven't seen an anime-original with writing this good since Code Geass.

Not a specific anime but the other week I thought about, what if Yuki Kajiura had been the composer for Noragami? Her style suits its aesthetic so well so now whenever I watch something she wrote for, I yearn.

Books:

The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir. If you've looked at my blog at all in the last 2 years you'll know I am very sane over this book series. I actually made a Venn diagram comparing it to Noragami a while back, but the gist of it is that they deal with a lot of similar themes such as love, death, and the curse of immortality. It also has soooo many messy and complicated relationships and twists that leave your jaw on the floor. You can also use the worldbuilding to put your blorbos into and it's very fun for giving yourself Thoughts. For example I've done it both ways by putting the Noragami characters into the TLT universe and the TLT characters into the Noragami universe. Both are very painful.

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint by Sing-shong. I'm not done reading this yet (about 2/3 through), but the further I get the more I realize it's about all kinds of love, the same way Noragami is. The narrator forms a "party" of people in the apocalypse, and they go through life-or-death scenarios together, and the way they grow to love and care for each other is so natural and feels so earned whenever it pays off. If you want romantic relationships, queerplatonic relationships, parent/child relationships, or any other type of relationship, ORV has it. There is also a webtoon adaptation but I'm reading the novel because it's completed; the webtoon will take many more years to get there.

Miscellaneous:

The Adventure Zone: Balance. This is a DND real-play podcast and it doesn't really have anything in common with Noragami but, like Noragami, it made me feel every possible human emotion, so I recommend it. It has a slow start but it grows into something so beautiful and creative and by the end of it I was sobbing in my car. Listen to it if you can, or at least listen to the music (it gets music later on and all of it is soooo good).

Okami. This is a video game heavily inspired by Legend of Zelda and much like Noragami it's a retelling of Japanese mythology, so the storyline will def have some familiar elements. I recommend playing it for yourself (it's available on Steam for PC and pretty much every other platform you can name), but a playthrough would be good too. It's nearly 20 years old and has withstood the test of time because the creators decided to make it look like a classic Japanese painting come to life, and the gameplay involves drawing, so it's very artsy and fun (although the controls are really weird).

Thanks for the ask! Hopefully you found something new, and I'll be sure to share if I find anything new to add to this list because I am always on the prowl for Noragami-adjacent things ❤

[dolphin1812]

I love that Marius’ poverty is discussed through the metaphor of food. On the one hand, it’s not exactly a metaphor – he did literally sell his possessions to feed himself, so in a sense, he did eat his watch. On the other, it places poverty as his “nourishment,” highlighting the extent to which it deprives him of everything. The one that I found worst to read was this one:

“a door which one finds locked on one at night because one’s rent is not paid”

A lack of food and light is horrible, but we saw worse with Fantine. It’s still easy to feel for Marius, of course, but the horror of working in dim lighting, in the cold, and without food is familiar. Someone not even having a place to stay at night brings us back to Valjean’s situation at the very beginning of the novel (although that was because of his history, not his money). Closed doors have never been a good sign in this book, and seeing Marius have to face one hurts.

The moralizing aspect of this chapter is more mixed. Hugo seems to imply that those who become “scoundrels” because of poverty do so because they weren’t as moral, contradicting much of his own novel (where even characters that seem very virtuous, like Fantine and Valjean, end up as “criminals” simply for trying to survive). That being said, the “heroism” part is a bit better. It still feels a bit like idealization, but it also speaks to the novel’s general intent of centering the “misérables” as the protagonists (or “heroes”) because they’re ignored. The sacrifices Fantine made should never have happened, but they did make her an “obscure hero” in a way, with the amount of suffering she faced for the sake of her daughter.

I also like that we return to the humiliation of poverty here. Again, Marius is not as poor as Fantine was. Still, the loss of confidence and self-worth she experienced as she became poorer and poorer is similar to what he goes through, especially in relation to appearance. Initially, Fantine tried to maintain her clothing and appearance, but as she became poorer and lost her beauty (selling her hair, her teeth), she stopped caring. She was already a social outcast, but that visual marker remained a heavy burden. Marius doesn’t stop caring in the same way, but he is hyperaware of what he looks like, and it’s likely that his sneakiness in public places and his refusal to linger is tied to the poor state of his clothes.

More than that, poverty controls their lives and appearances. Fantine’s hair was not just beautiful to others. It made her happy. In addition to liking to feel beautiful, she loved brushing and caring for it. Selling it ended that happiness. Marius isn’t losing joy, but he is losing the chance to express his grief as he deems appropriate, and his loss is one of the ways he defines himself right now. It’s isolating him as well, as going out during the day would probably increase his chances of meeting people (if he weren’t too embarrassed). Going out at night helps preserve what he sees as a core aspect of who he is (a son mourning his father), but it limits him. Fantine didn’t even have that flexibility – she had to sell her hair, and there was no replacement for that except time – but in both cases, poverty challenges one’s sense of self and even forces one’s identity into certain molds.

The end of this chapter may mark the only occasion in Les Misérables where becoming a lawyer is a happy moment. Marius has hope now!

[legendary-guest]

Based on Dwelling by @gogofordrakgo and inspired by conversation with her. If you have read up until Chapter 17, that is all the context you will need to understand this one-shot. There are two endings in this. The second ending is a continuation of the first, and will be under a Keep Reading break. Constructive criticism is appreciated. REM Streetlights dotting along the sidewalk cut through the night-cloaked path to Drew's apartment, the not inexpensive prize of strawberries rolling around in their flimsy plastic carton. The time to justify such an absurd trip had evidently come and gone, as had the initial reason for buying them in the first place. He hopes he can remember it before they all go bad.

Shoe hitting the elevated edge of a concrete slab sees the strawberries fly out of his grip, hands now tasked with saving his face from scraping the pavement. Losing his glasses is par for the course.

Although the fall is not bad, his palms ache fiercely. Drew attributes it to the abrupt stop; but if that were the case, the pain should be in his wrists. Blurred vision is the single reminder of where he should be putting his focus.

Ache turns to sting as he glides his hand over the ground, not knowing why he isn't patting around for them to avoid agitating the likely injury. He's glad that he has no audience to watch the pathetic display. Tears threaten to form at the mere thought of stifled laughs and condescending sneers.

He finds them lens-side down, as expected. He can only pray (since when did he do that?) that there isn't a scratch, or worse, a chip, in the glass. World now in focus, the atmosphere changes. He isn't alone. Leaping to his feet, the distinctive glint of a knife grazes his peripheral vision. He stumbles backward, but only about a foot. Not far enough, but he can move no further.

Shadowed, the assailant is at least a head taller than him, and definitely twice as wide in a way that makes Drew wonder why he even needs a knife in the first place. His mind races, trying to figure a way out, whilst he finds, and maintains, eye contact. All is still, and the danger seeps in. Materialising between would-be victim and perpetrator, a girl dressed in a striking suit, skin faintly glowing in the inky black of the night. Intrigued, entranced, frightened, Drew can only watch as she extends a hand outward, alighting it, with what, and how, he doesn't know. Whatever it is, what happens next is a violent whirlwind of attack, a dazzling display of gymnastic grace and green fire. He is no match for her.

Battered and burned, the attacker falls to his hands and knees, whimpering incoherently for her mercy. This does not move her, and the sputtering pleas come to a halt.

A long silence ensues.

Drew waits with bated breath.

"You better get going, Sport. Before I change my mind."

The hulking mass recoils and makes his exit.

They are alone. He hasn't moved a single muscle, but he's panting as if he himself had fought. Turning her head in profile, she smirks, clearly satisfied at another job well-done. She starts forward, crouching down to surely spring off the very ground and fly into the starry sky.

"Wait!"

His hand passes through into the night, outside the perimeter of the streetlight beaming down on him. It's so intense he starts to sweat. She stops, straightens herself out, dark hair swaying, he can determine this much.

"Wh-who are you?" He asks, but a part of his brain that isn't submerged in unconsciousness alerts him to a vague familiarity.

In one smooth motion she turns around to face him, arms akimbo. Her hair seems to be the only thing animated about her, taking its time to still in comparison to the rest of her perfectly controlled movements.

The darkness reluctantly relinquishes her to the light as she takes a single step towards him. His breath catches.

Not a girl, a woman.

Her suit covers every inch of her, save for her face and a sliver of pale neck. Yet, it doesn't shy away from showing her off, letting him know who, what, she really is.

"Thank you. For saving me." He has no idea how he has managed to say this, somehow looking her in the eye and ogling her. Some mental trick.

Maybe it's this heat. Yes. That must be it.

She smiles at him. Amused.

A jolt of fear and shame rush through him. Had she caught him staring?

"Shego." She breathes her answer.

"Sh-Shego." Her name breaks on his nervous tongue. Her chest rises, an intake of breath, the very first he has seen and heard from her, he realises.

"I..." Then he catches it, some flicker of expectation in her eyes. It floods him with confidence. "I think it's...customary," a deliberate pause, not a fumble, "for a heroine to be rewarded." He moves closer to her, and she tilts her head slightly upward to look at him.

Coy smile on perfect lips ease into knowing, but her response to him retains an edge.

"Heroines don't accept money."

"No," He agrees, his hand cupping her soft cheek, "I didn't think so." He can't help but rub his calloused thumb over her skin, imparting affection, assuring her he means no harm.

Nothing more needs to be said, as desire finally takes a hold of him. He doesn't resist, but neither does she, meeting him in the middle.

His tongue slides over hers. She tastes of alcohol. Caramel-apple.

Unable to turn off his thinking brain even amidst a passionate kiss, he wonders if this is what fuels her fire.

She pulls away, still so close as to steal a breath from him when she gasps. He almost makes the mistake of leaning in once more, seeking to capture her again, when she slackens in his arms.

How long had he been holding her for?

The last of her strength leaves her, and he is now supporting her full weight as she leans to the side, head hanging.

"Shego, what's wrong?" Careful not to drop her, he shifts forward.

Sweat is practically pouring down his neck and forehead by the time she meets his gaze again, expression pained and vulnerable. He even catches the tell-tale glitter of emerging tears in her eyes before she indicates with the turn, and then fall, of her head to her opposite side. Drew follows.

A clean, but ugly, diagonal cut to her right side from the top of her hip, stopping just short of the underside of her breast. That wasn't there before, was it? No way, he would have noticed it, it's huge.

The wound does not bleed. He doesn't question why or why not. She's injured and needs help, all the same.

"Shego, come on," He manoeuvres himself over to her left side, placing her arm over his shoulder, "My apartment isn't too far from here, I-I can help." Nervousness dares to break through, but when she rests her head against his shoulder, he steels himself.

The trek could have taken minutes or hours. He could have hauled her up a single flight of stairs or fifty. The time that passes, or refuses to pass, an age or a moment, it doesn't deter him. On occasions where Shego leans heavily on him, shakes her head at the futility of it all, he encourages her to stay awake, to hold on, to pull-through.

Finally, the two make it to his door. It gives him no trouble, and mercifully opens on its own. He sets her on the couch and he can feel, can see, her body relax. Shego leans her head back.

His eye spots a bead of sweat rolling down her jaw, trickling along her neck until it disappears between the gap of her throat and collar, beneath the suit. Drew swallows. The unrelenting heat returns, even under the weak incandescent lightbulb of the meagre living room.

Instinctively, he knows the first aid kit is under the coffee table, although this is not its usual place. He is thankful for being able to turn his back to Shego to retrieve it.

From the carpeted floor to sitting across from her on the couch, he finds his hands holding an open bottle of isopropyl alcohol and gauze, the kit not between them like it should be, but beside him. The fumes make him light-headed, though there is no pungent smell to accompany it.

No. It tastes like caramel-apple.

"Drew." His head snaps to her. Did he ever tell her his name?

"I want you to take it off." Clear, and if he didn't know any better, confident. She might even have some knowing look in her eye. Half an amused smile.

The heat.

"Wh-what?" His hands tremble.

"You...have to take it off," Her voice is weak again, pained, breathy, "If you...want to help me."

Drew nods. He can't even swallow, his throat is so dry and his tongue thick, heavy. Whatever he'd been holding had slipped through clammy palms and disappeared into wherever it is that forgotten things slip and disappear into. They couldn't have been that important, anyway.

Thumb and forefinger find the zipper of Shego's suit easily. He didn't even need to actually see it to know where it was. The metal is so cool on the edge of his last knuckle, even feeling it through the thick callous of his thumb. The teeth along the tape grin at their unveiling, exposing full, green-tinted flesh.

'Oh my God. She's perfect, every inch of her.'

Simmering desire, lust, turns into a rolling boil as he travels down, until it hits the top of her belt. Her belt.

"Drew, what are you doing?"

Panic burrows under his skin, racing across every nerve. Shego - Shea? Shea is Shego. But how can she be? They don't even sound, don't even look - he dares to steal a stupid, moronic, lascivious glance at her. Full, beautiful curves, now skin and bone.

The look of terror and disgust on her face is justified.

Even still, he starts blathering on like the coward he is, desperate to save himself from a fate he knows he deserves. Old habits die hard.

Shea screams expletives at him, shielding her small, deceptively fragile-looking body, holding the suit closed with one hand whilst the other is engulfed in a blaze of green and black-flecked flame.

His blathering is reduced to babbling, mouth forming word-shaped sounds when she aims for him. Unable to turn from her, he backs out of his own door.

Shea is a good shot.

He can't even feel the heat of the flame - plasma? The only thing he's aware of is the fact that he's falling, falling over the threshold of the staircase.

Drew wakes up.

Relief, selfish relief at the inherent deception of the dream is short-lived, as the slight shift of his hips reveals an unwelcome (filthy, sticky) truth about the trappings of his own mind. There's no winning.

[featherhasaface]

Hello! What is your thoughts on meta knight and his relationships with everyone? Who do you think will he get along well and be besties with :00?

Hi! You're gonna get a long one!

First off, wanna mention that i think every specie ages slowly, and won't die unless killed by an outside force (so they can't die of old age, and they won't physically age past a certain point). This means that I will use physical ages to describe characters, rather than actual ages because these guys are all thousands of years old probably (I also think that some species will age through childhood quicker than others).

Okay, so!

Meta Knight is one of my favorite characters, which means I like to give him the most painful hc's I can! First off, he's blind, but he's got a visor in his mask that let's him see (which is why in some of my doodles, he has glasses, they're made of the same material). This was Nightmare's fault, his eyes were normally yellow but turned grey afterwards. At the time, Nightmare also quite literally ripped out his wings. Luckily for the plot amoured circle, the Dimensional Cape works as a prosthetic and can turn into his wings (He can actually use magic to maintain his 'wings' while he's not wearing the cape, but it's very limited and will hurt a LOT afterwards, so he doesn't do that often).

Alright, so hears everyone I can think of and Meta's relationship with them!

Kirby - Initially, Meta Knight refused to see him as anything more than a child who needed to learn. He was afraid of getting attached. He didn't want to lose anything else. However, this failed, and he ended up seeing Kirby as a son, going as far as to call him one. He cares for him enough to probably destroy the entire town in order to keep him safe, and is obscenely grateful that Kirby can hold his own for the most part.

Tiff - Initially, some kid who he avoided because she asked too many question and he didn't want to risk her figuring anything out since she tends to hyperanalyze random things while dismissing others. After Kirby's arrival, he sort of has to be around her, so he tries to keep himself emotionally distant. But he's bad at that, so he ended up seeing her in the same light a parent would their daughter, although he'll deny it. He finds it difficult to remember that she's still pretty much a 10 year old child given she's incredibly smart for her age. He teases her about Kine because, quite frankly, he finds it hilarious.

Tuff - He was a little easier to stay distant from. Meta Knight didn't have an opinion one way or the other about him before Kirby arrived, and usually only saw him or his sister if they were getting involved with Dedede in case they were about to get killed. Afterwards, he also sees him like a son. He's got adoption issues lmao. He's aware that Tuff is kinda stupid, but looks past that a lot in fvaor of things he's actually good with.

Sword/Blade - He feels the same way about both of them and will obliterate you if you hurt either of them. He met them at possibly the lowest point in his life and didn't initially believe they'd survive for very long given their terrible fighting capabilities. Regardless, he got attached and they became very close friends. He cares for their safety, and is a little off put by their willingness to do stupid things that puts their live sat risk, especially if he's the reason (cough cough Wolfwrath cough).

Dedede - In one word, idiotic. He showed up before Tiff was born so he's known Dedede for a LONG time. Even then, the idiot was playing with monsters. He got frustrated after the child's were around and Dedede started endangering them with his stupidity. Admittedly, he finds it amusing when he's scaled by N.M.E, but hates that it's them that does it (they don't deserve money how dare).

Ecsragoon - Sort of sad, really. He's just pathetic, all of his skill and he couldn't find a better job? It was worse after Meta Knight had seen that his mother wasn't a complete failure of a parent. Escargoon worked so hard to lie to her and out up the most ridiculous act he'd seen from him, but couldn't keep himself from being a complete fool of a person? He suspects he was likely more decent before working for Dedede. He also finds it infuriating that he yells at Tiff so often, and has even had her neglect her sleep for several days to built a stupid robot, only for it break and for him to attack Kirby anyways. Hurting him as bad as he did was satisfying.

Any of the cappies - He tends to avoid them, he's socially awkward. He finds them all collectively stupid, though. Who gets brainwashed by a swirl on TV with a penguin repeating 'Kirby must go away' over and over? Regardless, he appreciates that they provide company for his children friends.

Fololo and Falala - No opinion, but appreciates knowing they'll help him out if he needs to fly after Kirby without using his wings.

Waddle Dees/Waddle Doo - All his children. Every single one of them (Waddle Doo excluded). He sneaks them candy and they like to bring him small gifts. Typically screws or feathers, they don't have much. They're all squishy cute things. He's glad they're so durable. He likes Waddle Doo. He may be oddly loyal to a rude penguin, but he takes care of the Waddle Dees and won't hesitate to ask for something if they need it.

Tokori - He doesn't like him. He's rude to Kirby. Finds it amusing that Tiff has literally punched him and he seems to fear making her mad.

Any of the talking animals - No real opinion. He doesn't like that Kine likes Tiff. His kids aren't allowed to date. He finds it funny, though. He'll tease her about it endlessly.

Any talking trees - He mostly doesn't care. A little annoyed that Whispy nearly got his kids killed over a demonic flower, but oh well. It was a while ago.

Kabu - Meta Knight greatly appreciates his presence. It was nice to find something he was familiar with on Dreamland. He sometimes likes to chat with him.

That's all I can think of for Dreamland so GSA TIME!!

Nightmare - Ew. Ugly intergakactice war criminal that ruined his life and killed all of his friends. Meta Knight hates him with his very soul.

N.M.E Sales guy - Not really a personal opinion, but he doesn't like him. He works for Nightmare so hopefully he'll just stop existing. He doesn't know if he survived the ship being blown up and quite frankly, doesn't care.

Yamikage - He wants to kill him. He hates him. He doesn't understand how someone could betray the GSA, and it cost the lives of many innocent people. Yamikage also hates Meta Knight. Stupid pineapple.

Garlude - Now, I know it was never confirmed that she ever regularly worked with him, but I'm hooked on TheWinterRaven's Star Trio idea. He's very good friends with her and was devastated when she died. Before that, she was a good friend, but he admittedly didn't like her bothering him about his health.

Jecra (Knuckle Joe's Father) - Best friend, as stated in the show. He acted like an idiot, though, and would usually annoy Meta Knight outside of battle. They got along well, and Meta Knight had lost a lot when he had to kill him. His death hurt.

Arthur - He has a lot of respect and sympathy for him. He's the leader of a large army that (in my AU's/HC wasn't originally even his). On top of that, he grew up around him, and saw him like a brother. It was heartbreaking to watch him go from a confident and well trained Star Warrior to someone who felt hopeless about the battle they were slowly loosing. He'd started yelling multiple times about how much better Uther would have done for the GSA and refused any support. When they split up, Meta Knight was convinced they were dead, and was beyond hurt that he had to die in that state of mind. He knew Arthur blamed himself for every failure and setback, and seeing him act as if he was fine around others was painful beyond explanation.

Falspar - Menace. Also grew up with him. Falsoar tried to keep everyone's spirits up and Meta Knight appreciated that. He cared for him, even though he had been notorious for causing mischief before the army fell apart. Near the end, he was trying his best to keep Arthur together, and he seemed lost. Meta Knight didn't like that.

Dragato - Very similar to Falspar, but Meta would call him dramatic too. He'd be the type to hop around on one foot, yelling ow repeatedly in a higher and higher pitched voice it he hit it on something. He was 'killed' in the same state as Falspar. Neither of them seemed like themselves in the end.

Lancelot - Meta Knight would speak to him the most out of all his brothers. He was calm and introverted. Shy boi. He got along well with him but would also harass him about his health. He was Arthur's biggest helper and near the end, had the biggest struggle in keeping him and the rest of them even the slightest bit hopeful. It was a lost cause by then and it was obvious he knew it. He stopped after Arthur yelled at him to stop acting as if everything would be fine. From there he was more quiet and withdrawn than he usually was. Meta Knight hated that.

Kit Cosmos - He knew he existed but hadn't really formed much of an opinion on him. He respected his skill.

Galaxia - Meta Knight had been on his own for several years before meeting Sword and Blade, and was at the lowest point in his life. He carried a lot of guilt and Galaxia would try to comfort him. He finds her presence comforting, to the point where he hates it when she's not with him. He speaks to her a lot. When he isn't fighting a loosing battle with his mental state, she bothers him about his health. In short, she's probably the closest thing he's ever had to a mother.

Any monster - He hates them all. As far as he's concerned, they're just embodiments of Nightmare's magic, and they can all disappear forever.

Anyone who works for N.M.E - He hates them too. He's good at hiding it when he knows they aren't a monster, but if they anger him, they're dead.

Sirica - Seeing her was both painful and relieving. He knew Garlude cared for her and was convinced she had died a long time ago. He doesn't know where she got the idea that he left her mother to die, but he assumed some monster had spewed it to her before dying. She clearly didn't like N.M.E but didn't have anything else to go off of, so he understood. Still, it was difficult to be attacked for the death of a friend that he already blamed on himself. He treats her the way a father would their daughter. Very protective orb.

Knuckle Joe - He didn't blame him for going after him. He was annoyed with Dedede for telling him that Kirby was the one he was after. Treats him the same way as Sirica. He knows they can handle themselves, but when they're on Popstar, dad mode activates.

I think that's all- Let me know if I missed anyone! :D

[violetvelourr]

Let Me Take Care of You

(Part 1 of 3)

☙ ❦ ❧

Pairing: Kakashi x OC (Arina aka Rina Matsukata )

Fantasy on the subject: Kakashi returns after a rather traumatic (physically) mission... Arina is there to take care of him ^^

Timing: somewhere after the death of the Third and Sasuke's abandoment of the Leaf Village.

Planned size: 3 parts

Rating: NC-17

☙ ❦ ❧

Arina raised her head and listened. No, just her imagination. She dropped her head on the pillow again and sighed wistfully. When will he be back? He was due at least two days ago.

The fate of a shinobi's lover is tough. She was mostly afraid of the domestic routine that could strangle any romance, but turned out that the constant separation was worse: when you don't know where he is, how he is doing, will he come back and if he does come back – when and... how?.. It was only at first that the separation seemed for the better, because it made everything feel more intense. But that was self-deception. The reality was more cruel and less romantic. The waiting was unbearable.

Arina managed to fall asleep after all, but a few hours later her light sleep was interrupted. This time she was certain she heard rustling downstairs. She lay listening for a while, then slipped out of bed, put on her yukata and crept downstairs quietly.

Kakashi was standing with his back to her, leaning against the wall, and trying to take off his shoes. Arina froze, suppressing the joyful exclamation ready to burst from her lips, and stared at him with concern: he did not even feel her presence. Moreover, the wooden floorboards of the stairs hardly allowed sneaking upon someone unnoticed. However, she managed to do it. With him.

Kakashi's uniform eloquently indicated that the mission had not been an easy one: numerous scuffs, cuts, here and there was ingrained dirt, and, what was worse – traces of blood.

"Kakashi..." the girl voiced after all.

The silver-haired man, at that moment finally winning the battle against his shoes, froze, then turned around abruptly.

"Ari..."

Arina saw how his face instantly began to relax and its features became softer, as if until that very moment he was still mentally somewhere out there, on the mission. She swiftly covered the distance separating them and wrapped her arms around Kakashi's neck.

"You're back..."

Kakashi hugged her back, but it seemed to the girl that something was holding him back – as if he was debating whether to respond fully, or maintain some distance.

"Baby, I'm covered in dirt..." he stammered out, confirming her guess. "And... frankly speaking, don't smell very well either..."

"What nonsense..." Arina, as if on purpose, pressed her face into Kakashi's chest with all her might, taking advantage of the fact that his vest was unzipped.

After a little hesitation, Kakashi obviously let go, and, no longer holding back, gave the girl a bear hug, burying his face into her hair, taking in her scent with pleasure – warm, pure, cosy fragrance of the home... their home...

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed about this," he whispered.

"Me too," the girl sobbed, "I was so restless already... Barely could fall asleep today..."

"And I woke you up? I'm so sorry... I was trying to keep it down – was going to spend the night downstairs..." he muttered apologetically.

"You could really do that to me?" Half jokingly, half seriously, Arina flared, finally breaking away from Kakashi and looking into his face. "I've already slept alone for two nights longer than promised!.."

"I didn't want to disturb you..."

"Silly," Arina punched him lightly in the chest. It was not the first time they parted, including for so long, but it was today that she for some reason felt especially relieved, seeing him back safe and sound – although, that still had to be confirmed. "And was it worth racing then?"

"Hmm," Kakashi grunted vaguely in response. She noticed, huh. He really did want to spend that night at home at all costs, for which he'd resorted to not quite ordinary means, which was not very reasonable in his condition... But he was hoping to meet the girl in the morning more or less refreshed. Washed up, at least. And not a savage like he was now.

"Are you hungry?" Arina finally let go of him and glanced in the direction of the kitchen. "There is some food left – if you give me a little time, I'll get everything ready..."

"Honestly, I don't want anything now – except for washing and catching on sleep." Kakashi ruffled the back of his head in embarrassment. "I hope you didn't cook specifically with me in mind?.."

Arina, in fact, really did prepare full meals three evenings in a row in hope that he would be back, but she did not admit it.

"Alright, then let's get you unloaded and go to the bathroom already, how much longer are we going to freeze in the hallway?" She chuckled.

"No objections," Kakashi replied and swayed slightly.

"You can barely stand." Arina helped him sit on the step dividing the hallway into two levels, knelt down next to him and began pulling off his vest. "What happened? Are you alright at all?"

"No big deal, I'm fine. Otherwise I would have been at the hospital now." Kakashi smiled wryly, not admitting that the line between these two conditions was extremely thin this time.

Arina looked at Kakashi expressively and shook her head lightly. She then reached out and removed his head protector carefully and traced her fingers over his forehead, where the fabric was imprinted, still looking at him with concern.

Kakashi froze under her gaze, looking back at her wearily, but at the same time as if she was his ultimate goal and he was immensely happy to reach it.

Arina slipped her hand into his hair, making Kakashi close his eyes blissfully, and with her other hand gently glazed her fingers over his temple. She stroked the scar above his left eye and finally hooked her fingers over the edge of his mask.

At that moment Kakashi seemed to wake up and grabbed her wrist quickly.

"I really should clean myself up first," he muttered guiltily.

"You really are silly," the girl cooed, and pulled off his mask nonetheless – with the other hand, which he did not manage to intercept. The exposed part of the face contrasted sharply against the upper one – even with the area around the left eye. "Dusty road?"

"That's not the word." Kakashi licked his hopelessly dry lips reflectively. "Mh-honey..."

"Shush..." Arina leaned in and kissed him.

Kakashi closed his eyes, trying to overcome his embarrassment – did she really like kissing a dirty thing like him?..

Feeling his tenseness, Arina stopped and pulled away. Kakashi looked at her sheepishly.

"Are you not happy to see me?.." The girl's eyebrows arched a bit.

"What are you saying, of course I am!" Kakashi assured her. "But you see how I am..."

"If that's the only thing that bothers you, then I can say it again – I don't care about such nonsense." Arina smiled. "But alright, it'll do for now. I'll be right back."

She got up, slipped her feet into the nearby flipflops and scooted off towards the bathroom. The sound of running water could soon be heard from there.

When she got back, she saw that Kakashi hadn't even moved. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head drooping slightly.

He's had it rough, the girl thought with compassion. She sat down next to him again and stroked his cheek. Kakashi turned his head to her, smiled softly and wearily. She fumbled on his stomach and unbuckled his belt, took it off. She then took hold of the holster on the thigh, took it off too, and began unwrapping the bandage underneath.

"Ari, I'll do it myself... just give me a couple of minutes..." the man said, covering her palm with his.

"Kakashi..." Arina looked him in the eyes, "let me take care of you, please."

From the way she said it, Kakashi's heart skipped a beat.

Arina blushed slightly, noticing how his eyes flashed, and looked away, continuing to unwrap the bandage. Once she was done, she shifted her attention to his hands and took off the well-worn gloves. She stroked his palms and fingers: the skin was scraped in some places; a couple of nails were chipped off.

Kakashi grimaced involuntarily: he did usually manage, no matter what, to keep his hands in almost perfect condition, and this zeal only intensified after Arina had appeared in his life.

"I should probably master medical jutsu after all," Arina said softly. "But for now..." She squeezed his fingers, pulled his hands towards her, bent over slightly and kissed his fingertips. Looked into Kakashi's eyes while still pressing her lips against his fingers.

"Arina, what are you doing..." The man almost choked. There was something insanely intimate in this simple gesture, even too much...

"It's alright, Kakashi..." The girl smiled.

She straightened up and gave him an appraising look. Of all his ammunition, apart from the pants and the turtleneck, only the bandage on his calves remained.

Arina began unwrapping it, and Kakashi made one more attempt to stop her, but the girl looked up at him in such a way that he quickly gave in and leaned back slightly, resting his hands behind his back.

He sighed, looking at her thoughtfully. It was a very strange feeling. Unusual, but at the same time somehow satisfying – just letting someone take care of you.

And every time he thought it was not possible to feel more affection than he already felt for her, the girl easily proved him wrong.

"Tennyo..." he whispered, barely audibly.

[* author's note: Tennyo – in Japanese folklore, are  divine spiritual female beings similar to angels.]

"Mhm?" Arina looked up at him questioningly.

"No, nothing." Kakashi shook his head and smiled, looking at her with undisguised tenderness and gratitude.

Arina smiled back and lowered her gaze again.

She finished unwrapping the bandages, leaving three messy piles on the floor – if it had been Kakashi, he would certainly have rolled them up, but they had to be washed first anyways. She massaged his calves, noticeably overworked, with deeply imprinted traces from the bandage.

Kakashi couldn't hold back a slight groan.

Finally, Arina stood up in front of him and stretched out her arms to him.

"Come on, let's go to the bathroom."

Kakashi got up on his own, and only then took her hand.

"So stubborn." Arina showed him her tongue.

"Firm," Kakashi corrected.

"Won't let me take care of you," the girl said with mock affliction.

"You have already done more than you had to, Ari..." Kakashi squeezed her palm. "Go to bed, it's late..."

"You think I'll go to bed without you?" Arina objected, walking into the bathroom.

It was warm and humid in the bathroom, and the furako tub was already almost full, emitting clouds of tempting steam which made Kakashi squint for a moment in anticipation.

Meanwhile, Arina came close to him and pulled up his turtleneck. Her eyebrows arched when she saw that his body was covered with numerous cuts and bruises – especially where he had not been protected enough by the vest. It was worse that she'd hoped.

"Gods, Kakashi... How?.." she ran her fingers lightly over his side, then the shoulder, tracing but not touching the marks. "Perhaps you'd better skip the furako... You should see a medic instead..."

"Oh no-no, it's fine," the man assured her hastily: if Arina was his first priority, the furako was definitely the second, and the only excuse for him to skip that would be complete disability. "It won't do any harm. Do you think that's never happened to me before?"

Arina kept eyeing him with a mixture of compassion and concern. Then her eyes widened again.

"But... if you look like that... what about the rest of the team?"

Kakashi raised his eyebrows and Arina faltered.

"Shit... right..."

"Yup." Kakashi smiled with sadness.

"I still can't get used to it." Arina looked down.

"I miss them too... But I'm glad they were not around this time. It could have been much worse."

"Will you tell me what happened?" The girl looked at him again.

"Not today, okay?" Kakashi sighed and put his palm on her cheek, stroked it with his thumb lightly. He didn't want to hide anything from her, but this mission was by no means a cause for pride, and he preferred keeping the details to himself. Especially considering that the traces of blood on his uniform, for the most part, were not his own – and this despite the fact that he was sort of aiming to reduce this aspect of his profession.

Arina paused for a moment, but then nodded.

"Well... shall we go to the shower then?" Arina reached out for Kakashi's pants, intending to pull them down for him, but the latter unexpectedly quickly recoiled.

"Let me do it myself. And I'd better shower on my own, too..."

"I won't molest you, I see you are not in the right condition now," Arina laughed softly.

Kakashi gritted his teeth and shook his head. He did not want to admit his weakness, even if it was fully justified. He barely restrained himself from putting his hand on the wall but was trying to maintain an appearance in front of Arina till the end.

"Oh, for gods' sake, Kakashi." Arina nevertheless grabbed hold of his pants and pulled them off deftly together with the boxers. She almost burst out laughing when Kakashi turned sideways to her shyly, while stepping out of his pants, shifting one leg forward and, in addition, covering his groin. "Are you serious now?"

So much for the formidable shinobi...

Kakashi sighed but moved his hands away.

"I-i-I'm not looking," Arina sang, turning away. She untied the belt and took off her yukata, throwing it casually on the bench in the dry area, then took off her night satin set as well. With a dancing gait, she walked on and turned on the shower.

"But I am," Kakashi moaned to himself.

☙ ❦ ❧ 

 Part 2 

[trashyocstash]

chapter 19

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8 chapter 9 chapter 10 chapter 11 chapter 12 chapter 13 chapter 14 chapter 15 chapter 16 chapter 17 chapter 18

Minnie was at her house, in the midst of working a new fashion sketch. Despite everything happening, she was trying to maintain a sense of normalcy. It wasn't working as well as she hoped though; as Mickey's girlfriend who also helped him on cases, the criminals saw her as a target. So, she had to board up the windows and front and back doors of her house and boutique.

While she was drawing, she heard a knock outside. Minnie went to lift up a board on a front window to look outside, and saw Chief O'Hara and Detective Casey. So, she lifted a few boards off the door and opened it.

“What is it?” Minnie asked.

“Minnie Mouse, we want your help to find Mickey,” O'Hara explained.

“I'm sick of dealing with Phantom Blot’s reign!” Casey complained, "once we find Mickey, he can put a stop to all this.”

Minnie smiled and nodded, “Of course I'll help, to save Mouseton and Lily…and well…I miss Mickey terribly.”

“So do I lass, he's the best detective I know,” O'Hara replied, earning a scowl from Casey, “you know him better than anyone, so we figured you'd be a great help.”

“I'll do my best.”

—-------

The trio left Mouseton and started their search for Mickey. It took a while, but eventually, they came across a hidden passageway in the woods that led to a seemingly abandoned cabin.

But inside, there was Mickey, in the midst of analyzing his plans, when he saw them.

Minnie quickly ran up to him and embraced him, before they shared a kiss.

She gave him a worried look, “I've been trying to talk to you! Why haven't you been responding to my calls or texts?”

Mickey frowned and his glance darted away from her, “I'm so sorry Min. I'm just…worried that I could be tracked by the criminals, or worse, the villains if I responded in any way.”

“I understand but…Mickey! You made me so worried!” She scolded.

He apologized again, when O'Hara walked over to the couple and looked at Mickey.

“It's really bad in Mouseton, lad. Poor Minnie has had to board up the doors and windows of her house, and criminals are running rampant through the streets. We don't have any power to stop them, any time we try, they just laugh and either fight us or ignore us.”

O'Hara thought about Lily, “It's not…all bad at least. Surprisingly, Phantom Blot has allowed Lily to make changes, positive ones no less. He gathered everyone together to say that Lily has decided that at least the homeless shelters should be kept in good condition, and to provide people with necessities.”

Mickey's brows raised, “Really?”

Minnie nodded, “I even saw him kiss her hand! And she didn't seem to mind!”

Mickey thought over everything he knew about Phantom Blot and Lily's connection to each other, when it felt like a light bulb went on in his head, “Do you…think they're in love?”

She scrunched her face, “Ew, no. She can do so much better than him,” She paused, “although the others and I did get a chance to speak with Lily. She explained that Blot lets her go where she wants, treats her well and she defended him when he was called a monster and told us there's good in him.”

That made Mickey even more sure of his conclusion, “Sorry Min, they gotta be in love.”

“But why? What could Lily possibly see in him?”

“I guess we'll have to ask next time we see her.”

Mickey then decided to change the topic, “Enough of that though, I have a plan to defeat Phantom Blot.”

Casey sighed in relief, “You do?”

“Yep. And you can all help me. Here's the plan…”

—-----------

Back in Mouseton, Lily had decided that she wanted a part in her own ideas, and so, was in the midst of giving out food to the impoverished and homeless, alongside Blot's goons. They were very eager to help their boss’ girl and the queen, after all.

From a distance, Phantom Blot watched them. He felt a sense of pride in her as he watched. His own plans for world domination included more tyrannical ideas, but he was a genius and had studied leaders throughout history, so he knew he needed people to want him to stay in power, he was not taking the risk of anyone overthrowing him. Lily provided the benevolent ideas he needed.

And well, he was in love. There was no one quite like her, and Blot was grateful that met.

As he continued to watch Lily and his goons, Pete and Trudy approached him.

Trudy was the first to speak, “Phantom Blot! Things have been going well with our faction. Our henchmen understand the importance of keeping things in order, and we started organizing different heists.”

Phantom Blot nodded, “Perfect.”

Pete grumbled, “You said this is only temporary right?”

“Yes, these factions won't be necessary once I become king. You and the other villains will have greater power. It will be hard to manage every country, so I might need a council. What would you two say about ruling a specific country together? Your choice.”

Trudy squealed and raised her hands at that, “Ooo! There's so many great countries! France? Italy? Canada? It will be so hard to pick!”

Blot laughed, “I'll give you two time to think about it.”

“Right now though, I should go help Lily, she's doing such great work!”

Trudy made her way over to Lily, a big grin on her face, “Hey Lily!”

Lily turned her head towards her and smiled, “Hi Trudy.”

“Want my help?”

“Sure!”

As Trudy helped Lily give out food, she decided to strike up a conversation, “I'm so excited that you're going to become queen of the world. You deserve it, you're going to be amazing.”

“You think so?” Lily asked shyly.

“I don't think so, I know so. Just look at the work you're doing now, imagine the work you'll be doing when you rule the world with Blotsy.”

Lily pondered Trudy's words, with Phantom Blot getting ready for total world domination, she hadn't dwelled on what that meant for her. It was a bit nerve wracking to think about, but Blot wanted her in the position, and she could do some good with it.

“Yeah…you're right..”

The two continued to chat, enjoying each other's company all the while.

—-----------

Later that night, Phantom Blot and Lily returned home. They spent time with Phantom Brat before putting her to bed, then made their way to their room.

The two changed into their sleepwear, watching each other all the while. Blot smirked playfully when he noted Lily was putting on his black sweater. It was oversized on her, and it was adorable.

“Darling, you look perfect.”

He went over and possessively hugged and kissed her, making her blush and her tail wag.

“I'm glad..I..wanted to wear something of yours,” She shyly admitted.

“No need to be shy, it was a great idea,” He chuckled.

They laid down in bed together. Phantom Blot’s mind drifted to his world domination plans, “When we rule the world together, we should have our own grand, beautiful place. This mansion was catered to my tastes for the most part, but if we got our own place, we could ensure it includes both our tastes.”

Lily nuzzled against him, “Thank you. I have to admit…I'm still…nervous about the idea of being queen of the world.”

His hand made its way to her cheek, she still felt tense from being touched there, but at least she was getting better about it.

“There's nothing to worry about, everything will be just fine. You've done great work today, even my henchmen, who love causing chaos, wanted to help you. Everyone adores you, it won't be any different when you're queen.”

She thanked him and held him close.

Lily had lived her life as a normal person, then she fell in with Cody, Madison and Olivia and had felt powerless and alone.

Now, everything was changing for her. She was with a feared villain, was the mother to his daughter and was queen of Mouseton. Soon, she would be queen of the world, all thanks to the man she loved.

She felt lucky to be with a man who adored and loved her so much, he wanted her ruling by his side. Lily wanted to do a good job, for him, and for the whole world.

All she had to now was await the day Phantom Blot began his takeover.

[yhwhsdaughter]

pairing: trevor belmont x fem reader

content: forced vampirism, monster slaying, main character death, pining, angst, mention of animal death, usage of the word ‘assault’ to refer vampires feeding on reader

- this was meant as platonic soulmates but it can be seen as romantic too

“It hurts…”

Feet dragging across the rocky ground, you heard screeches of pain from behind, though they soon diminished. You could only focus on the pulsing sensation at the side of your neck; it was like fire rushing through your veins.

Preoccupied with your agony, Belmont was able to sneak up. He raised his whip, ready to kill off the last of the creatures when you suddenly turned, and with glossy eyes you said, “Help me…”

The whip managed to leave a thin horizontal line across your cheek as he pulled back, causing blood to drip out slowly. Now illuminated by the moon, Belmont saw the damage on you. Skin exposed by the ripped clothes showed multiple bite marks. Blood stained the corner of your lips.

She’s been infected..

Belmont didn’t see a monster but a scared woman who’d just been assaulted by vampires. He knew what she’d turn into, but he couldn’t kill her… not when she looked at him like this. Sunrise was approaching so he had to act fast.

Draping his cloak onto your form, Belmont proceeded to carry you into the nearest building, which so happened to be where the carnage had occurred. Upon recognizing the place, you began to panic, shaking and looking at him with distrust. “You’re safe. I killed every last of those bloodsuckers.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in that shitty stinking room. Eventually tiredness overcame your senses; Belmont felt weight settle on his shoulder. He wonder how a vampire could look so innocent whilst sleeping.

“Hungry…”

You felt parched; it felt like your throat had dried up, barely able to utter a word.

“I know.”

A rabbit was placed in front of you. Blinking at it, you directed a confused glance at the man. “I’m—this is.. for me?” He nodded. Taking the animal with traces of disgust, you raised it to your mouth. Blood gushed into your mouth; feeding made a horrible slurping that would certainly haunt you but there was relief amongst those troubling feelings.

You gulped every last drop, draining the poor creature of its life. Still, your hunger and thirst weren’t satiated. Biting your lip, you pondered on the next move. Because this man had saved you, daring to kill him or even feed off him seemed… rude. Not to mention, he seemed way stronger than you in terms of experience. Prior to this, you were a regular citizen. Maybe you could run away?

“Here.”

Trevor could see your turmoil. Most vampires needed to drain at least one human every time they fed—if they were being generous. They could survive weeks without blood but it made them weaker. Besides, it was older vampires who had this kind of self control. Newborns tended to be more unstable.

“Just take it before I change my mind.”

You did as told, though you were still unsure. Hesitating, you licked your lips before nearing towards the vein on his wrist.

Trevor let out a grunt when your fangs pierced him. Although you tried to be gentle, it was an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. As he became lightheaded and you full, the mouth that was attached to his wrist removed itself with a ‘pop’.

After making sure he was alright, you asked for his name. “Trevor. Trevor Belmont.”

“Oh..”

“……”

“Oh! I’m (Name) (Surname).”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

“It’s dangerous.”

“I still-still want to go!”

The last remnants of sun were gone. Ever since your first encounter with the rugged monster hunter, you refused to part from him, following the latter like a lost puppy.

“I’m not much of a fighter.. b-but watch this!”

On cue, you punched the nearest tree, cracking it and making a sizable hole. You looked back proudly towards Trevor; except when you tried to pull your hand out, you were having difficulty.

“Ah. It’s stuck.”

Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle, walking away, clearly amused with your display of power. You pulled harder, “Hold on! Don’t leave me alone! It’s scary..” you muttered the last part while chasing after him. Despite being a creature of the night, the world and its evils still frightened you.

At the sound of a branch snapping, you yelped, grabbing a piece of Trevor’s cloak for security.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Belmont when you punched a head clean off, practically decapitating one of the attackers. He might have been seriously injured if you had not intervened.

“Trevor.”

Gazing at you under the moonlight, he saw the hunger in your eyes as you held a man whom was still alive but struggling. His neck was exposed. Even so, you waited.

The Belmont turned away, giving you privacy to feed.

He knew that by allowing you to live, you would continue to take blood from others. Normally he wouldn’t feel soft towards a monster but whenever he thought of you, it was different.

His guilt was lessened when you drank from scum. Before putting the lives of innocents in danger, he would offer his own.

“Are you done?”

The corpse of the man was dropped unceremoniously as you joined Trevor, a light skip to your step.

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Despite adopting a nighttime lifestyle, Trevor was still human and had to conduct business during daylight hours.

He’d left your lodgings, which was an abandoned cottage, for a while. Nobody really passed through there anyway, so he thought you were safe. Worst came to worse, you could handle yourself. But as your self proclaimed protector, Trevor felt uneasy leaving you alone.

Maybe he should’ve listened to his gut because when he arrived, the door was wide open with dirty footprints leading in all the way to your coffin.

Two men had opened it—staring at the peaceful expression on your face, unaware that they were here to end you. To them it was obvious what you were. Even with that frilly white dress that made you look somewhat angelic, they couldn’t be fooled. As they raised their weapons to strike, Trevor used his whip. His sudden entrance startled them but it gave you the chance to wake up.

Eyes snapping open, you jumped onto the other man, taking both of you to the ground. His screams echoed shortly as you tore into his throat. The remaining one had no chance; Trevor left the room, closing the door on his way out, killing the light that entered and cutting off the way to escape.

Left alone with your prey, a smile crept up your face.

When you opened the door again, the dress which decorated your body was now stained red. There was hardly a clean piece on the material. Even so, you greeted Trevor with a hug.

“Trevor..”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“M-me too..”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Forty years passed in the blink of an eye.

“You should retire.”

“Belmonts don’t retire. The only rest they get is when they’re dead.”

“Well I don’t want you to die.”

“I have to, someday.”

“No you don’t.”

It’s been like this for the past few years; Trevor was sixty now. His body didn’t look that of an aging man, but the expression on his face did. He’d seen too much and as time passed, it was harder to fight monsters by himself.

Of course you’d noticed that and suggested turning him. It was an ongoing discussion; Trevor didn’t fancy the idea of living an eternal life but the thought of leaving this earth without you was disheartening. He didn’t say it but the situation tore him apart.

There was also the fact that he was too old for you; forty years to be exact. You’d maintained your youth, looking lovely as ever. His doubts were shot down when you immediately said that you didn’t care about that.

“I just want you.”

He always kept pushing the conversation away and you were patient. Trevor supposed that you could’ve taken him by force if you wanted and when he inquired, you told him it would be like violating him, robbing him of the choice you were never given.

As understanding as you were; the time would come for him to decide and confront you about it.

That time was now.

He should have been more careful, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Trevor watched as the sun slowly descended. Would you make it here before he passed? Would he die without seeing you one last time?

When you woke night had already fallen. Trevor wasn’t home; he’d been late plenty of times before but this occasion felt different.

Upon stepping outside, the smell of blood hit you. It reeked, staining the very air. You immediately recognized the source—how could you not? You’d fed from Trevor countless times.

Rushing in that direction, you prayed to whatever entity was listening to keep Trevor safe. The world and its gods could condemn you, but not him.

Not him.

You found him sprawled on a big rock, a creature hovering over his crumpled figure. Without thinking, you tore it to pieces. Blood rained as his mangled body flew to various parts of the forest.

“Trevor!!!”

He let out a groan, which would’ve made you sigh in relief but his visible injuries proved otherwise. You were no doctor and even if you could carry him into town, it would be too late. There was no other option. If you didn’t do anything, you might lose him.

“Trevor. Let me do it.”

Still conscious enough to reply, “I don’t want to become—”

“A monster?”

“I cannot become what I sought to destroy..”

Tears escaped your eyes, blurring the image of the person whom you treasure most. “Please.. please please please..! Don’t leave me alone!”

You begged, knowing it was unfair to pressure him in such way but you couldn’t bare the thought of existing if he wasn’t present. He was your salvation, your companion…your world. And yet, he was being robbed from you.

So soon… It’s too soon!

You always imagined Trevor living well into old age, spending the remainder of his life with you, being happy. He was destined to die peacefully, not like this. Not in this shitty place, by the hands of a shitty monster!

“I can’t. I’m sorry..”

Grabbing his hands, you lowered your forehead on them, crying your heart out. It was unfair. Life was unfair.

“Kiss me.”

Despite the pain that he was in, Trevor found it in himself to smile. For you. “Kiss me one last time.” Tears dropped slowly as you heard him. Shaking your head; you couldn’t kill him.

“I want it to be you..”

His words struck a chord.

Lifting him by the neck in a gentle manner, you pushed the collar of his shirt aside, exposing his carotid. As you bit into his familiar skin once more, your other hand caressed him, trying to make this goodbye as painless as possible.

With every sip you took, tears fell down.

I love you! I love you! I love you!

His warm hand turned cold.

You held him in your arms like he once did to you, with the outmost care, with the love he deserved.

Since Trevor didn’t say where he wanted his body to be buried, you chose the nicest spot. It was a secluded place where it wouldn’t be dug up by animals or people—but not so hidden either.

Whilst cleaning the blood that covered his body and face, you found a piece of cloth with writing on it. Staring at it, you recognized the Belmont insignia. Turning the material, you managed to read the words…

Take this. Go to Alucard.

Trevor must’ve written that in his final moments; probably in case he didn’t make it before you arrived. The letters were sloppy because of the blood but you could read it well.

Clutching it to your chest, you sobbed until the light of day began to burn. For a moment you wished to stay there and disappear. Perhaps you could join Trevor.

Together even in death..

─── ☾☼☽ ───

The journey was rather long.

Looming in all its glory, Castle Dracula. You looked at the last piece of your beloved, holding it tighter in your hand.

“Okay. Let’s meet this Alucard.”

[sweettodo]

a simple competition.

⟿ Hisoka Morow x freader x Chrollo Lucilfer

Includes : threesome, toys, smut, not even a good plot but yk, consumption of alcohol

word count : 2,7k.

my last little surprise for you guys, some more threesum action .... here you go puppies. THX FOR 300 [ almost 400 rn :) ] <3 !!! your favorite men at your disposal... [y/n is aged].

fun fact, I'm eating takis rn, are these spicier than usual or am I imagining things ? i’m also watching ‘malcolm and marie’ AMAZING movie, i highly suggest it, the dynamic of the two is so detailed, such a good movie.

••

Maybe it wasn't a clever idea to drink, but once you attained that nice and warm sensation in your gut, there was certainly nothing stopping you from finishing the already half-empty bottle of pink whitney.

Laying sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling as the room slowly spins around you. Content and relaxed with your position.

It wasn't your fault, Pakudona reassuring you that it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun tonight, that Chrollo wouldn't heed if you crashed here for the night, he was tipsy, manspreading on the other end of the couch, eyes puffy and glossed over, enjoying the quiet.

Music was playing thirty minutes previously, but as the night went on, one by one, the others hit the road to sleep off their intoxication, it was already past midnight.

One person had yet to leave, that was Hisoka... of course.

He wandered back into the living room, plopping down next to you and your friend on the couch, "leaving anytime soon? Y/n?"

You shook your head, "staying the night." Hisoka's arched eyebrows rise, a little smile tugging at the niche of his mouth.

"Is that so?" Chrollo sits up, staring at the kaleidoscopic man, a sarcastic undergone on his tongue.

"That's what happens when you drive here, and drink" You nod, "although I didn't quite intend on you staying the night, Morow." He hums, Hisoka pinches the corner of the thin card, waving it back and forth teasingly.

"I can't let you have our playmate all to yourself," you roll your eyes.

"It's not like that," you mutter, staring the magician in the eyes, "I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

"That is true," Chrollo interjects, "that doesn't mean you want to leave though, is it?" you shrug.

"No, I wanna stay, got an issue with that?" you ask, he shakes his head.

"Of course not- although, I suppose Hisoka would be better off on his way."

You estimated things would only get progressively worse from here, the moment Hisoka's bloodlust began to fill the air, you felt this was your cue; before you're able to leave the room, Hisoka's hand is fastened around your wrist, sitting you back down.

"Oh, you can't flee now," dread fills your face, "come on, we might as well finish the conversation."

You and Chrollo both knew what he was talking about. No matter how petty or pathetic, it appears to be that the rivalry between the two never seemed to subside, even drunk.

"Go on, since you have so much to say."

"Am I wrong for thinking my friend is a pretty girl? I seem to remind her more than you do."

"You seem to think you own her, it's pitiful honestly, " Blushing, you look down at your thighs, "do you think she's pretty, Chrollo?"

"I do. I think she knows that right?" you peek up at him, he gleams and tilts his head.

"Look at her, my, you must like us flattering you." You shake your head.

"That's because you neglect to tell her more often, does Chrollo ever call you pretty?" with Hisoka pushing Chrollo's every button, tensions were surging, both men now at the edge of their seats- literally.

"No, he doesn't," you speak, the magician letting out a deep chuckle, you felt like you were being scrutinized, the eyes burning into you felt poisonous and dour, you felt minuscule compared to them.

"I could do so much better than call you pretty, right kitten?" your heart sinks to your stomach, gulping hard. It was too hard to look at them in the eyes as you sunk further into the couch.

"Are we making you nervous?"

The inquiry continues.

"Yeah- you are." You retort, "you guys are talking about me like I'm not here."

"Then let's ask the lady herself, y/n." Looking up to meet Hisoka's gaze, "who do you think could take better care of you?"

Heart pounding out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies, "I- I don't know, I've never thought about it." Laughing, you look to see Chrollo, who's standing to his feet.

"I think I know a way to help you decide," smug smile peeking from his face, "unless you don't want to?"

A single nod is all they needed to know, Hisoka standing to his feet, seeing how you sat on the couch as still as a statue, "please don't be so tense, you know how good we are to you." Hisoka slowly picks up your hand.

He's steering you to your feet, "what do you have in mind, Chrollo?" the man leading you two upstairs.

"I think I have something that'll work out for all of us."

The dress you wore to this get-together now seemed like you were exposed, bare, and vulnerable, you knew what their agenda was, you didn't fancy the idea of being the center of attention.

Chrollo slowly clicking open his door, walking in, and promptly turning on the light, you're led to the side of his king-sized bed, his room was both contemporary and warm, comforting feeling; the walls a deep vermilion, the sheets plush, soft and black tones.

"We should leave it up to our little kitten to decide," the buttons on his shirt slowly coming undone, stopping at his sternum.

"What do you think, Morow?" Hisoka looks at you with low eyes.

"I'll go first."

Chrollo stalks towards you, sitting there falling apart at the seams, Chrollo's large and reaching behind your ear, thumb gently caressing your jawline, side to side, "you okay with this? Sweetheart?" you nod, the name sending jolts between your thighs.

Hisoka's rubbing your bare leg, sitting next to you on the mattress as his fingertips trail up and down, his hand stopping inside your thigh and pressing a leg open, Chrollo clasping your other knee and you lay on your back

"I'll get some time to please you, Hisoka gets the same when I'm done, yes?"

You're breathless, Hisoka grabbing you and pressing your back against him, his hands pinching the seams of your dress, "cute little dress- you should wear it more often for me." He hums, rolling it up, your thighs buckled together while lifting your back off the mattress, the dress sitting bunched up at your hips, the panties you wore sitting on your hips.

"My, who knew she would wear something so- revealing." Arms linking around your own, Hisoka keeps you completely locked in place.

"Did you wear these for me? Kitten?" Chrollo asks, shaking your head no.

Tugging at the little strong which hardly kept you covered, “I'll keep these, yeah?” you nod, the pants of Chrollo’s fingers barely ticking you, brushing against your already anxious body.

"Stay still for me, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe.

Hand leaning over past Hisoka, he's opening up the drawer beside his bed.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the little pink toy, compact in nothing bugger than four inches long, he sits on the bed in front of you, bringing the little object to your core.

He switches it on the lowest setting, the only noise in the room was the quiet buzzing of the vibrator as he barely touches your clit, the tiniest contact with the toy having your chest rise and fall, "keep these open for me, okay princess?" his fingers hook below your panties, pulling them down and placing them beside him.

"Such a pretty pussy, don't you think, Hisoka?" You're gnawing on your bottom lip from the teasing little touches with the toy, he was doing this on purpose; your legs laid open, the other man holding your arms to where you couldn't do anything if you wanted to.

"It is, I'm sure it's even prettier when it's cumming,"

Chrollo finally presses the vibrator onto your clit, he leans over your cunt, spitting, your mouth opens, the saliva hardly cooling your excited cunt.

He uses his free hand to finish unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the floor, he leans down leveled to your cunt, holding your leg over his broad and muscular shoulder, his tongue licking a stripe towards your occupied clit. Your body shakes, digging further into Hisoka's chest, he holds you tighter.

"Fuck, p-please!" you gasp, wanting to dig your hands into his hair, thrashing against Hisoka's arms, "let me touch-" your pleads fall on deaf ears, Chrollo’s tongue swirling into you in sinful ways, your legs twitching, the toy too much to handle.

The euphoric feeling of the overstimulation sending a pool of cream right onto Chrollo's tongue, lapping up every drop of you.

You were dizzy, Chrollo drinking up all of your essences, his hand pressed into your thigh to keep you from buckling onto him, your back grinding against the pressure of Hisoka's growing erection, his hands had grabbed the straps of your dress, one by one pulling them down and releasing your tits from the braless dress.

It's almost too good to be true- the man spending a dangerous amount of time eating your pussy like it was his very last meal, tasting everything he possibly could, the vibrator maintaining its spot in little circles around your swollen and screaming clit.

Ripping orgasm after orgasm out of your body, you're dripping sweat, he pulls off of you, your cum covering his reddish swollen lips, chin soaked. You looked a wreck, makeup streaming down your face, legs numb, his head coming to yours, he kisses your panting lips, releasing you from Hisoka.

The taste of your cum filling your mouth, his tongue licking past your bottom lip and into your mouth.

"Take this off." tearing at your dress, peeling it over your head, unzipping his pants, "you're gonna straddle me and stay still, is that okay with you, kitty?"

"O-okay, what about Hisoka?" Grabbing your hips, you straddle him. He raises you a little.

"He's gonna watch me make you cum a few more times-" hissing in the air as he assists you to slide down onto his cock, the stretch was unbearable, but you push through, trying not to slouch over in pain.

"-hurts, bad!" You sob.

"You take me so well, it'll only hurt for a second, promise."

His hand's move, one to your waist and one loosely around your throat as he holds you up to get a better grip on your already weakened body.

Keeping eye contact with Hisoka as your body is demolished by the man beneath you, eyes boring into you seductively, captivated by your mess of a face.

You felt as if you were being torn in half, crying out his name as he knew just how to fuck you; fucking your pussy just right.

Fucking you so hard you were going numb.

"Gonna cum! Gonna cum again!" you screamed, head falling back as you searched desperately for air, Chrollo rolling his hips into you as he released you, slumping to his chest, his chest stick from sweat.

"You wanna be filled with my seed, kitty?" Nodding in his shoulder.

"Please fill me- I want your cum,"

The feeling of his cum seeping down his cock and deep into your beaten-up cunt, his breath heavy against your ear.

You sit up, large arms wrapping from behind you and pulling you off of your straddle, Chrollo getting off the bed to clean himself off as Hisoka sits you on the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear gently, smiling as you look up at him, blurred eyes.

"My my, I don't think she can handle it, or can you?"

"I-I can, trust me." He smiles, pleased with your answer, his soft hands taking up your arm before leaning you back, onto your back, he was sweaty, so his shirt was clinging to his body, his hair was messily draped over his shoulders, pulling his tie loose while standing between your open legs, "let me see your wrists, princess."

He's leading you against the bed frame, linking your hands together and finishing off the knot around the post of the frame, the man getting on his knees between your legs, letting his shirt hand open as his hands work at his slacks, unbuckling the leather belt and tossing it to the side, "you look so innocent, tied up and quiet as a mouse, even after you just got fucked out," he pushes down his pants, erection throbbing from underneath his underwear.

The area between your legs throb, he was beyond ready to feel your walls tighten around him, he was ready to hear you begging for more.

He needed to one-up Chrollo.

He lifts your hips, your legs propped against his thighs while remaining restrained, his tip aiming into you accordingly before pushing into your beaten cunt.

His arm propped, flexing as he grips the headboard, drilling into your cunt with no tenderness, he spares you no pain as he ruts into you, ready to split you in half the instant he saw you spilling cum at the hands of his rival.

The size of him left you perplexed, the way he was splitting you open while bringing you to an indescribable state of heaven had you a sloppy mess, the thick cock he had with his veins filling in the little nerves you had yet to feel seconds earlier. He filled you, and he filled you well.

Hisoka fucks you until your head is blank, eyes seeing white, one of his hands gripping your hip, keeping you from laying fully on your back.

You try to cry put to him, and he notices.

He slows only slightly, rolling his hips back and forth into you so you can speak, "s-so good, it feels so good!"

Each rut of his hips sends you into oblivion, the way his hips bumped and clashed against your body left you spitting out a mantra of his name, Chrollo inches away from you, rolling your perked nipple in between his fingers, sending chills up your body.

Hisoka brings his eyes to you, "joining in, my friend?" Chrollo pulls his hand back, you almost find yourself whining.

“Did I fuck you better, y/n?” Chrollo taunts, his lips barely pressing against the life of your ear, “is Hisoka making you feel good?” Hisoka's beautiful golden eyes stalk you, waiting for your answer; stabbing right into your soul.

“Answer him, go on, kitten; did he fill you as good as I am?”

The questions were throwing you in for a loop, your stomach twisted, digging your head back deeper into the pillow of Chrollo’s bed.

“Fill me, please- daddy.” You cry, you longed to touch him, to feel his soft hair as he pummeled into you; you tugged on your wrists softly, already weak, the tied limbs going numb and tingling.

Before you know it, another orgasm is torn out of you; groaning out as you tightened and clenching around him, body once again convulsing, legs tightening around Hisoka’s waist. Each time they made you cum, the more came spilling from your cunt, it was almost unreal how much the bed was soaked, how soaked your thighs were, Hisoka’s pants being stained in the process.

This pretty little soaked pussy, sucking me in so good.” Panting, his head falls back, his dick quaver’s while his thrusts become more staggered, hand gripping tighter around your already sore hip.

His seed bathes both you and his cock, hips sputtering as he slowly slips out of your abused cunt. your head spinning, a panting mess at you blink and stare at the ceiling.

You could barely move, the men in the room throwing on clothes, hearing zippers, you lift your head.

Chrollo hands you a blanket, draping it over your body.

Sitting up, the blanket around you, you look at the two men who were fiddling around doing nothing but looming around the room.

While Hisoka buttons up his shirt, he tilts his head towards you, “tired, princess?” you nod.

A devious smirk dances on your lips, they look at you confused, “perhaps though, I might need another round, you know- to decide who was better.”

[sinner-as-saint]

‘Till We Bleed Out - 2.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 2 of this series. 

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real. 

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst 

You woke up realizing that you had surprisingly fallen soundly asleep last night, after the strange dream about the handsome man; who was kind enough to let you take shelter from the storm in his home. 

Speaking of the storm, you got out of bed and walked over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. You noticed that the weather was even worse than last night. Heavy rain, and nonstop thunder. Although, it seemed like a very cozy day to just stay inside. You sigh with a soft smile on, perhaps you’d get to know more about Bucky today. 

You turned back around and noticed something you hadn’t last night. Roses on the nightstand, as red as blood and just as hauntingly beautiful. Your smile grew; there was something enchanting about red roses. A bunch of it looked like the embodiment of poetry and there was no other way you could explain it. 

You approached the flowers and inhaled their fresh scent. Oh how you loved them! How come you didn’t notice they were on the nightstand? Anyways, you walked into the bathroom and brushed, showered and were about to change into another pair of sweatpants when you noticed more clothes in the closets. A sundress caught your eye and you decided to wear it. It fit you perfectly. You twirled in front of the mirror, checking yourself out when Wanda walked into the room. 

“I see you’re up, Miss.” she smiled at you. And you noticed she had the same look in her eyes, like Bucky did. That of sadness, or helplessness. But you tried ignoring it. 

“Good morning.” You gave her your best smile and noticed how she took in your appearance. 

“You look lovely. Anyways, I came to let you know that breakfast is ready. Mr. Barnes is waiting for you downstairs in the dining room. Come down whenever you’re ready.”  

Wanda left and the brief mention of Bucky brought back the memories of last night’s dream. It was definitely weird that you had such an explicit dream about him, but the weirdest thing was that you were not feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. 

You took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. You made your way downstairs, leisurely. Taking in more of the décor and the paintings on the wall. These must have cost a fortune, you thought. 

You found Bucky in the dining room, sitting at one of the ends of the large table. You had to admit, even the furniture in this house seemed pricey. Bucky set the newspaper down upon seeing you. He let his eyes roam your frame quickly and his smile broadened. “You look lovely,” he commented. 

You smiled, just a little shy and whispered a ‘thank you’. As you took a seat on his left, he spoke again. “The storm intensified. Looks like you’re not going home today.” he said with a genuine smile. You began to oppose naturally but he insisted. “You’ll be safe here.” 

You agreed. You picked a few food items from the large trays and took a few bites while Bucky got back to his newspaper. The silence was comfortable, the two of you seemed perfectly alright with sharing the space without feeling the need to fill the void with any conversation. It felt like this was part of your routine almost. 

You sipped on coffee and discreetly lifted your eyes to look at Bucky. He munched on a piece of fruit while focusing on some article in the papers. His body language made him look like an older man; eating while reading his newspaper. But his face didn’t look a day over 35. The contrast made you giggle and that caught his attention. 

He turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. “Something funny, miss?” he sounded like he was teasing you, politely. 

You shook your head and set your cup down, and upon doing so you noticed the red roses in a vase in front of you, again. The sudden urge to ask a question took over you, “Your wife, did she like red roses?” 

“They were her favorite.” He seemed unfazed by your sudden curiosity. 

“What was she like?” you asked again and the smitten smile on his face gave away how much he loved her. Love like this was rare, and you felt just a little envious of the late woman. She was so lucky, you hoped she knew. 

“Like the answer to all my prayers. Beautiful. Every little thing about her was so, so beautiful. She was kind, smart and funny, and fierce. She made me a better man. She was delightful.” You noticed he looked you right in the eyes as he spoke. His answer gave away that he worshipped that woman. 

“I hope she knew how much you love her.” 

He gave you that soft smile again. “I made sure to remind her every single day.” 

-

You never knew rainy days could be so lovely. After breakfast Bucky offered to show you his library because of course he owned one. And you had the time of your life just walking around and running your fingers over some of your favorite books. 

You noticed red roses on the coffee table as well, by the couches in his study room/library. While reaching for a copy of Pride and Prejudice, your hand brushed with his and your whole body felt like it was electrified. You pulled away sheepishly, but he held it up to you and you took it with a smile, admiring the front cover. 

“Your favorite?” he asked. 

You nodded, excitedly. He let out a little laugh. “You can have this one. I have plenty of other copies.” 

You smiled so big your cheeks hurt. “Thank you, Buck.” you were so excited that you walked past him, hungry to explore the other side of his library - without realizing what you just called him. 

Meanwhile Bucky was both surprised and elated. Buck… no one called him that except for-

“What’s in there?” he heard your voice and turned around immediately. You were pointing at the partially hidden door at the end of the room. “That’s where you hide all your secrets?” you teased, using the same tone he did this morning. 

He laughed and nodded. “Yes, you caught me.” 

You two shared a laugh and then he insisted that you should see the piano room. You agreed and just as everything else in the house, the grand room was equally as breathtaking. White couches, brown pillows, plants, full of light even with the stormy weather and a large balcony adjoined to it. Perfect. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said as you admired the room. You could hear the heavy rain hitting the window panes, it was comforting. You noticed the well-maintained piano right by the door which led to the balcony, “Do you play?” you asked and he gave you a dramatic look which gave away that you had just bruised his ego. 

“Miss Y/N, how dare you question my skills?” He answered with a smile on, then proceeded to play the most melodic tune you had ever heard. You weren’t much of a musical person, but you knew a melancholic tune when you heard one. It was, as most things in this house, hauntingly beautiful. Even the music carried a sense of nostalgia, and homesickness. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, getting lost in the music which filled the room effortlessly. Familiar, very familiar. Then it hit you - this was the same song being played at that ball in your dream. You opened your eyes immediately, baffled at the weird coincidences taking place lately. 

You found yourself gravitating towards the bench, and eventually you sat beside Bucky. He looked at you for a brief moment, then resumed playing somewhat of a softer tune. You smiled at him and suddenly it all felt like a déjà-vu. Like you’ve lived this exact moment a hundred times before. Sitting next to him, your elbows brushing, him looking at you lovingly, yet with sad eyes. His cologne, the slight gray in his eyes, the weather - it felt like a forgotten dream was coming back to you. 

You had to find something to say otherwise you felt like you were about to lose your mind. “You said you worked all day everyday. So is today your day off?” you tried to lighten the mood. 

He let out a little laugh. “Like I said, I rarely get visitors. I’m just making the most out of your company.” 

He was drop dead gorgeous, and he could make your heart race with just a few simple words. A dangerous combination really. 

He kept playing as you walked around the room, taking in every little detail. This was the only room in the house which had white roses in the vase, instead of dark red ones. Well, the white ones matched the interior better here. Your gaze fell upon something interesting next. 

“Vinyl records?” that seemed to catch his undivided attention as he stopped playing and turned to you. 

“Oh yes. It was one of my… old hobbies.” He answered. 

You giggled. “You say old hobbies like you are over a hundred years old.” 

He chuckled and got up from the bench. He walked over to where the records were kept, picked one out and carefully placed it down on the record player. A soothing tune filled the room again. Much lighter and happier than the piano earlier. A stark contrast to the gloomy weather but it still, somehow, fit perfectly. 

Bucky extended his arm out in front of you, out of nowhere. “Dance with me.” 

You didn’t hesitate for a single and took his hand immediately. Bucky held you close; his hand at your waist pressing your body to his gently. His other hand held yours delicately. Your arm placed over his shoulder as you stared into his deep, piercing eyes. And just like that, you two swayed slowly to the sweet, slow music. Effortlessly, gracefully and without any awkwardness or hesitation. Almost like you’ve danced a thousand times before. 

You giggled as he twirled you around and pulled you closer almost immediately. And when you looked back up into his eyes, it felt like a déjà-vu again. Only this time, you knew where you had experienced something similar to this - in your dream last night. The ballroom, the gown, the way you danced. Just like this. 

Your body tensed up and you weren’t blinking, Bucky caught the change in your behavior. “Don’t think about it.” he murmured. 

“About what?” you used a much softer tone as well. You and him were so close you could whisper and you were sure he would hear you perfectly. 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about.” He spoke as he swayed you gently. “You’re here, with me. I don’t want you to think about anything else.” It sounded more like a plea than a request. There was something else he was trying to say; inexplicable, hidden in between the lines. Somehow you caught it. 

You nodded. “I’m here.” You spoke without paying much attention to what you were saying or doing. “With you.” All that mattered in the world right now was that you were in his embrace. His ocean blue eyes were the only thing you could make sense of. 

You felt it then. The warmth, despite his cold hands. The sparks flying around, despite the dark and gloomy weather outside. He started leaning in and you met him halfway. 

His hand moved up to gently cup your face. His lips brushed against yours briefly as he paused and waited to see if you would pull away. Seeing you didn’t, he pressed his lips to yours. You shivered at how delicately he caressed your cheek with his thumb. Kissing him felt natural. Like a habit. His lips were soft and familiar. He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you closer. 

Your hands instinctively slid into his hair, he moaned under his breath as you tugged on it gently.  Bucky tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, nibbling on your lips and gently stroking your lower lip with his tongue. You felt giddy and warm. And safe. 

He pulled away just a second before Wanda stepped into the room. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Bucky told her you two would be downstairs in a minute and you caught that look on her face. A look of pure joy and satisfaction. You didn’t understand why. 

When Wanda left, you faced Bucky again, now just a little nervous. “I.. I didn’t-,” 

He silenced you by gently holding your chin in between his fingers. “Shh sweetheart.” His gaze spoke volumes; he was perfectly alright with this kiss. “We should go downstairs.” 

Dinner was perfect. Lovely conversation, lovely wine, the same stormy weather outside but inside Bucky’s home; all was well. He told you that you were more than welcome to use his library if you wished to do some light reading before bed. You agreed. 

You grabbed a book and curled up on one of the couches and he did the same, sitting right across you. You found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again because you couldn’t focus. Not when you could physically feel his eyes on you. You even caught him staring a few times and giggled whenever he seemed flustered after being caught. 

There was ease between you two. And the next two hours went by comfortably. 

“It’s late, I should go to bed.” You spoke as you stood up. He did as well, and when you looked into his eyes you began wishing that this storm outside lasts forever. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, leaning in and kissing you at the side of your mouth. 

“Goodnight.” 

-

You tossed and turned in bed. Somehow, falling asleep was a little harder today because you couldn’t help but think about how it felt when Bucky kissed you earlier. The sound of the harsh storm echoed inside the house, but it was still comforting. 

The loud roar of the thunder was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep; dreaming again, this time of red roses, blue eyes, balconies and paintings… 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, embracing you in a tight hug. “Do you like it, my love?” the silky smooth voice asked. You looked down and you smiled at the sight of the wedding band on his finger. 

“I love it.” You looked up at the frame hung on the wall. It was a painting of you and your husband, delivered to you that morning itself. “We’ll keep it here forever.” 

You heard a soft chuckle, then felt a pair of lips kissing your neck softly. “Even longer.” 

You turned around and came face to face with Bucky, with slightly longer hair, tied in a low, neat ponytail. Behind him was a very familiar door. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. “We should get going, else we’ll be late.” 

The surroundings faded, and you were now inside a dimly lit ballroom. The grand chandelier was mesmerizing, but not more than your husband’s eyes. He was gorgeous, your man; even with half his face covered by the masquerade mask he was still perfectly able to take your breath away. 

He smirked, as though able to read your thoughts. He leaned in, and the rest of your surroundings was suddenly a blur. “Do you wish for us to go somewhere more private, sweetheart?” He whispered in your ear. 

You bit your lip and nodded, only then realizing that you were wearing a mask as well. Bucky smiled, tugging on your hand and dragging you along to wherever it is he was taking you. 

The room around you morphed again and you found yourself running up a staircase with Bucky, giggling and holding onto each other for dear life until you finally made it to the top. You found yourself on a balcony. 

“Where are we?” you asked. 

Bucky stepped closer, pushing you gently against the balustrade. “Home.” He leaned in and kissed you. His mouth moved against yours gently, passionately. His hands were on either side of your waist as he pressed you further into him. Your hands instinctively went to his neck as you gently pulled him closer.

As you closed your eyes and cherished his touch, an image of the painting from earlier flashed in front of your eyes. But you forgot it just as quickly as it came because Bucky’s touch took over all your senses. His hand slipped under your dress, and went right to your wet core. 

You giggled into the kiss as his knuckles brushed faintly against your core and you moaned at his touch. He cupped you in between the legs and the palm of his hand pressed against your throbbing clit. His mere touch was driving you insane. His lips left yours and he kissed his way to your neck; sharp teeth nipping at your skin. At the feel of it, your own canines sharpened out of nowhere. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t feel like it was the first time that it happened. You seemed comfortable with the sudden change. 

Bucky kissed all the spots which made you weak in the knees; he knew your body by heart it seemed. While he kissed your skin, his fingers moved slightly against your dripping core. You moaned, tugging on his hair just a little. 

“Be quiet for me, sweetheart.” he mumbled against your skin as he slipped two fingers past your folds. He curled his fingers inside you immediately, and stroked your walls gently. You moved your hips against his hand as you chased your orgasm. His thumb rubbed your swollen clit furiously as you bit your lip to keep you from moaning. 

“Buck…” you were breathless, each nerve ending on fire as pleasure washed over you. 

“Shh sweetheart,” he quickened his actions and slipped his fingers in and out of you incessantly until he felt your walls clench around him. “Cum for me,” he whispered. You moaned, biting your lower lip as you came all over his hand. 

Once you recovered, he pulled your dress up, making it bunch around your waist as he stepped in between your legs again; kissing you like his life depended on it. He undid his pants and hoisted you up his own body. You wrapped your legs around his waist quickly for better balance and he leaned the two of you against the balustrade once again. 

You felt his hard cock pressing against your skin as he kissed you hungrily. His hand dipped in between the two of you and he guided the tip of his erected cock over to your dripping entrance. The brief friction caused you to moan into his mouth. 

“Be quiet for me, yes?” he spoke against your lips, almost as breathless as you were. You nodded frantically. And with that, he pushed himself inside you quickly. You felt all of him once he was completely buried in you. His cock twitched inside you and you bit your lip to prevent a moan from escaping your lips.

He held your hips, and your hands gripped his shoulders desperately as you tried to keep your voice down. You pushed your face into the crook of his neck, nibbling on his skin with your sharp fangs as he rocked in and out of you. You moaned quietly against his skin as his throbbing cock sped up into you. He pounded into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans and gasps out of you. 

He growled when he felt you clench around him. “Bucky…” you moaned and he immediately placed his lips on yours to stop you from making more noise. He loved how you lost control under his touch. He loved the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

“Shh, sweetheart. Quiet,” he mumbled against your lips as he felt your walls milking him perfectly. “We can’t get caught fucking in our own balcony while we were supposed to be hosting a party downstairs.” He ended with a chuckle. 

You whined. “Well if you weren’t so insatiable,” you teased. He scoffed, holding you at the curve of your ass, hands under your dress as he occasionally squeezed your butt cheeks, making you giggle and moan at the same time. 

“Says the one who lures me in like a seductress every moment of every day,” he sassed back. He slammed into you relentlessly while you tried your hardest to not to scream out loud. You felt a pressure building between your hips, and it seemed like he felt it as well because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath as he sped up again. 

Your thoughts became cloudy, and all that you could focus on in that moment was the force of his thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you found yourself unable to form proper thoughts. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he filled you up.

Your body moved along with his like a rag doll as you could no longer keep up with his thrust. Soon, you felt the warmth taking over. And a familiar tingle went down your spine as your walls clenched around him. You gushed out all over his cock with a loud moan… 

 You woke up gasping, shocked that you had dreamt such explicit dreams two nights in a row now. You looked around and realized that it was still night time. You could still replay the dream in your head like a vivid memory. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths. 

The painting. 

The painting seemed so real, so detailed. You wondered if- 

Wait, that door you dreamt of. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? Large, dark wood with beautifully detailed carvings on it, golden doorknob… 

You gasped again. It was the door in the library. Your heart raced. Could it be… ? 

You didn’t think twice before getting out of bed, grabbing the robe Wanda had left you earlier you stepped out of the room. Your breaths got shallower and shallower as you reached the library. 

It could very well be just a weird dream, right? You jumped at the sound of the thunder, and realized that you were already inside the library. You stared at the door. This was the exact one you dreamt of. 

Fuck it. You walked towards it, blocking out any thoughts which told you to turn back around and get back in bed. You twisted the doorknob and it was unlocked. You pushed the door open, stepping inside you found a secret room. About the same size of the library, or maybe slightly more spacious. 

It looked like a more modern and luxurious version of a drawing room. With the usual, couches, carpets and… and paintings. For a moment you almost didn’t want to find it. You didn’t want to find that painting of you and Bucky; which you had just dreamt of because if or when you do, what then? 

You looked around, the light from the two chandeliers illuminating the room just right. There were regular paintings one would find in an expensive mansion like this one; views of countryside, mountains, rivers. There were some paintings of people you couldn’t recognize but you knew, deep inside, that they seemed familiar. 

You almost let out a sigh of relief when you didn’t find the painting from your dream. 

Almost. 

But then you saw it. The largest frame in the room. Right above the golden fireplace, mounted on the wall perfectly straight and right in the center of the room. 

It was the painting you dreamt of. The one of you and Bucky. 

“What the hell?” you whispered as you approached the fireplace, craning your head up to look at the oddly familiar painting. 

You two seemed so happy. You were in a rose gold gown, and Bucky was well-dressed in navy blue. A lovely moment in time, captured in a beautiful painting. You weren’t quite sure what to think as you looked at yourself in the painting. 

Your eyes instinctively trailed down to the bottom on the frame. And in cursive black painted were written the words which gave you goosebumps: ‘Mr. & Mrs. Barnes. 1872.’ 

“What the hell?” you repeated. 

This time you heard a voice speak up, from behind you. “You should be in bed, sweetheart.” He said softly. 

You turned around and found Bucky leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and a look on his face which you couldn’t quite decipher. You turned to look back at the painting, and then back at him again. He hadn’t aged since 1872 it seemed. 

Your heart raced again. 

It couldn’t be… could it?