#i open and check the oven to make sure its empty before i use it EVERY TIME no matter what bc im paranoid

[alex-local-owl]

Big electronic machine stuff (Water heater/Furnace, price checkers, automatic restrooms, AC units, etc). I have no valid reason to explain it but I used to be extremely fearful of them to the point of panic (I still have no clue why). Am still uncomfy around them but I don't panic as bad! A win is a win.

reblog this w your weirdest fear!!! mine’s balloons

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Changes chapter 10.5 (Bonus chapter)

Thank you so much for 1700 (!!) Followers. Seriously. It's insane. Thank you 💜

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The kitchen was empty, now that Max had gone to work after making sure that she was alright. Thorn was with her still, gently laying his head on her lap. Julie smiled at the dog, gently brushing her fingers through its hair. She stood up with a soft sigh, looking through the kitchen cabinets.

Not once in her time here with Max had she eaten food. She'd always sustained herself with blood, and it was enough. It was what vampires needed to survive - at least, that's what David had told her. But she had seen Marko eat food, and Paul as well - so, she theorised, eating food was okay. And if she could eat food, then she absolutely wanted to eat cake.

It was one of the only things she remembered from before - before turning and being rescued by Lucien. She vaguely remembered a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and a slightly tanned skin tone, smiling at her. The woman would blow some baking powder towards her, a teasing grin on her face, calling her her sweet. Julie closed her eyes, thinking hard. It must have been her mom.

She grabbed a chair from the kitchen table, climbing upon it to see onto the topshelves. There, she found a package of plain flower, baking soda, vanilla sugar - she grinned, grabbing all of it. Looking through the fridge, she found the milk and butter she needed, and also some eggs.

Julie placed the chair back, smiling as Thorn followed her back towards the kitchen counter. It was as if he knew exactly what she'd be doing, hoping to get a piece of the endresult after wards.

With a puzzled frown, Julie inspected the oven. She had learnt how to use the microwave function - using it to warm up her blood in the morning if she didn't want to go out and hunt - but she had never used the oven before. It took a couple of tries and turns, but eventually, she found the right setting and the right temperature.

It was only when the oven was on, and the mixing bowl and whisk were found that she realised she needed a baking pan. She looked through the cabinets again, finding plates that were never used and bowls that looked like they were at least two hundred years old - but nothing that looked like a bakingpan.

She sighed softly, wondering if she could make one out of aluminium foil before shaking her head. That was too weak. She'd never be able to put it into the oven without it breaking and the batter flying everywhere. Her excitement for baking had gone right out of the window as she turned the oven back off again. Maybe she could make pancakes or something, she thought quietly to herself, but even then she realised she didn't want that. She had wanted to make a cake. Both for herself and to share with the others.

She went to sit at the kitchen table, not hiding the fact that she was sulking when she heard a harsh knock on the window. She looked up, seeing Paul and David looking at her. They had left only an hour ago, so why were they back already? She opened the backdoor for them, and before she knew it, they were standing in the kitchen, turning the oven back on and handing her a bakingpan. She looked at them with a surprised frown.

"I saw you through the window," Paul explained. Julie looked at him, unimpressed. So he had been spying?

"Nah, girl, I'm just keeping an eye on you! And it's a good thing, because thanks to me you get to bake your cake."

"He's all talk, I bought you the pan."

Julie gave David an amused yet thankful smile before almost skipping her way towards the kitchen counter. As if she had done it a hundred times before - and maybe she had, she thought with a sad smile - she measured the ingredients, mixing them all together. Within fifteen minutes, the batter was done, and the cake was put into the oven.

"Sixty minutes?" David asked as he turned the timer up. Julie nodded. When it was done, she'd check whether the cake was done or not. He nodded, making sure it was on before moving to the living room. He went to sit on the couch, legs outstretched on the seating. Julie could already imagine Max scolding him, but there was no way that she'd tell Max. She didn't care. As much as she liked being in the living room, the couch wasn't that special or comfortable. David could do as he pleased, and Max just had to deal with it, right?

"We've also been thinking that you should do something about your room."

Julie looked at David, not sure what he was getting at. She jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, looking relieved as she realised it was Marko. Next to him stood Dwayne, holding some cannisters with paint.

"You really want to tell me you like your room white?"

She shrugged. It was the first time she could remember having a room of her own.

"That's what we thought," Dwayne said, making his way up the stairs to her room. Julie followed with a smile, looking at the colours he'd brought along. A spring green, a dark blue, a pink and a purple, a lovely shade of orange and a bright shade of yellow.

"We can always pick up other colours if you want," Paul said as he noticed Julie looking at him, "but we figured these were ones you'd like."

Julie grinned, nodding. They absolutely were. She smiled, wondering if they had an argument about which colours they should pick at the hardware store or if they just knew immediately. She gave Paul a quick hug before looking back at the different colours.

"I thought this would be something you liked," Marko handed her a sketch. It was of a sunrise, soft pinks and oranges turning into a welcoming shade of blue. The soft clouds looked almost purple, and underneath it all was a field with red flowers. It was lovely. She had never done anything to indicate she missed the sun, but to have it in her room? To see it whenever she entered, or when she woke up? She smiled, nodding. Sometimes, it frightened her a bit how much the boys actually knew her, but she was thankful for it.

As Paul, Dwayne, and David each poured some paint into their own paintbuckets, Julie moved her furniture to the side. Marko sketched the picture out on the walls, making sure that every wall was included in the image. Paul helped Julie cover her bed with some plastic. Paintbrushes were distributed amongst the five of them, and soon everyone was busy painting.

David had flown up into the air, painting the ceiling, loudly complaining about his back.

"Just admit you're old!" Marko grinned. David didn't respond, instead dropping some blue paint on Marko's white shirt.

"Dude!" Marko glared up. "You're lucky you're up there, but do that again and you will no longer be platinum blonde."

"Sure thing!" David chuckled, not realising how serious Marko was.

Dwayne was painting the pink rays, while Julie and Paul were working on the large orange area on both sides of the room. Marko busied himself, painting the grass and flowers.

It was after a while that Dwayne gently tapped on Julie's shoulder, causing her to look up. "Your cake is done."

Julie hesitated. Of course she needed to check on the cake, she didn't want it to burn - but she didn't want to leave the room either. Everything was looking so good, and she wanted to help more.

"We'll finish up here. You go and check in your cake. Alright?"

With a soft smile, she nodded, handing him her paintbrush before going downstairs. She walked into the kitchen, grabbing some dishtowels to safely take the pan out of the oven. With a fork, she poked in it, relieved to see it come out clean. The cake was done. All that needed to happen now was for it to cool down. She placed it on a rack, turning the pan upside down.

"I want a piece!" Paul came running into the kitchen, almost slamming into Thorn as he flew up, flying over the kitchen table and landing on the couch. Julie paled - as much as she didn't mind David having his shoes on the couch, Paul was covered in paint. Paul saw her expression, quickly jumping up. There, exactly where he had sat, was a bright orange mark of his ass. Julie looked shocked, wondering how on earth Max would react to that before looking back at Paul. Their eyes crossed, and they burst out laughing. Her silently, him loudly.

"Max is going to get pissed," Dwayne laughed, as he entered the living room. Julie nodded, trying to compose herself. She put on a stern look - failing to actually succeed the look she was going for, since she was trying to contain her laughter - and pointed at Paul.

"No way! I'm not going to tell Max!" He shook his head. "I don't have a dead wish."

'He's lying." Marko stood in the kitchen, taking a knife out of one of the drawers. "It's your cake," he said, handing Julie the knife. She nodded as she cut five slices, each one rather thick. She was about to grab some plates, but before she could do so, four of the slices had already disappeared. Julie looked at the boys with an amused yet tired sigh, shaking her head as she grabbed a plate for herself.

"Don't worry," David sat across from her at the kitchen table. "If Max gives you trouble for the mess, we'll deal with it, Paul and Marko caused it."

Julie grinned as she heard to offended "Hey!"'s come from the living room, taking a bite of her cake. It was delicious, sweet, and just right. David gave her a rare, soft smile.

"Foods tastes different now, doesn't it?"

Julie shrugged. This was the first item of human food she had eaten since turning, so she really wouldn't know. David was about to respond, but Julie was distracted by Paul walking past her.

"You should bake more often," was all Paul said as he grabbed the kitchen knife, ready to slice himself another slice.

"Don't."

"Aw, man!"

"No, it's her cake. You don't get to finish it all." Dwayne pulled Paul back into the living room, Paul pouting as if he had lost his favourite candy.

David didn't seem to be deterred by Paul's interruption, probably used to it by living with him for several decades. Instead, he turned to Julie.

"Give me a list of human food you miss, and we'll make it a party."

Julie smiled, quietly wondering if he was serious.

"We buy it anyways, so it won't make a difference if we buy all your favourites," he shrugged. Julie walked over to him, hugging him tightly. David was about to say something when they all saw the headlights of a car pulling up to the driveway.

Within seconds, the house was empty, the boys leaving with a quick wave. Julie looked around, seeing the dirty paint covered footprints on the kitchen tiles, Paul's buttprint on the couch, the cake crumbs everywhere, the mess in the kitchen she had yet to clean up. She was about to start cleaning up the dishes when Max walked in. Thorn barked a happy bark, greeting his owner, as Max stood there silently.

"What on earth happened here? This isn't like you, Julie!"

Julie nodded, looking somewhat sorry. As Max walked further and looked around, and saw how big the mess really was, he turned to look at the girl. "It was the boys, wasn't it?"

As she nodded, Max sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table and pointing at the cake. The mess could wait. This was more important

"Did you make that?"

She nodded. He gave her a smile, causing her to relax immediately.

"Let me try a slice. Then I'll go and find the boys." He took a bite, interrupting his own sentence. "This is really good, dear! But damn thise boys. They've got some cleaning up to do."

Julie couldn't help but smile as she took another slice, giving half of it to Thorn.

Next chapter >

[summer-may]

Broken.

Stucky × reader.

It was late, and dark clouds gathered outside. The rumblings of clouds and lightning put a heavy weight on your heart. Everything was making you uncomfortable, the noise of lighting, the tick of the clock, the beat of your heart, everything. You didn't know if it was because you were getting sick or the fact that your boyfriends were being distant towards you.

It was a gradual process, the shared glances between them when you three were together, the whispers, the lack of physical affection, and the absence of communication when they were on a mission. The thought that maybe something was wrong never crossed your mind. You like a lovestruck fool thought maybe they were planning a surprise for you.

But they were getting ready to surprise you. You just didn't know it was a surprise that would destroy you and leave you in pieces.

As you were getting ready for the dinner you three had planned at your apartment, you put the tint on your lips at looked at your eyes, the dark circles you had tried to hide were still a little visible. You frowned, but let it go to check on the apple pie, which was in the oven, ready to eat, just being kept warm.

Apple pie, the desert three of you loved. It had been a while since you had made it for all of you.

The uneasiness increased as the seconds passed. The door opened, and both your boys appeared in the kitchen. Their jackets probably strung on the hook in the foyer and shoes beside the door.

The light in their eyes, whenever they say you, wasn't the same. The urgency with which they would rush towards you was now a slow drag of limbs. The way their hand held you was also different, more aloof. They even smelled different, if that was possible. You had later realized they had stopped wearing the cologne you had given them on your anniversary.

You sat down, and the round table that felt cozy and comfortable now felt huge and uncomfortable. The seats were way too far, the chairs hard and stiff, your hands were on your lap, and the dinner was done in silence, with the conversation being something spoken like between colleagues. Impersonal and boring.

The pie was placed, and the air shifted. It constricted, now suddenly it was hard to breathe. The glances, the hard swallows, the holding of hands, and the preparation of the telling you were almost done.

"Sweetheart, I- we have something to say," Steve spoke, his voice sweet and low, as if talking to an injured animal and trying to help it, while making sure they don't spook it.

You, stupid you. Felt the pressure and the seriousness and still thought it might have been something related to a job that they might have to leave for or a mission or something.

Why would it cross your mind that they were trying to break up with you. They had promised, and you believed them, loved them, respected them to hold them to their words of you three being together for life.

He parted his lips, that you had kissed a thousand times, and uttered the words, "We think it's - I mean- we feel that we don't click any more," he looked at Bucky, who continued looking at the table, "honey- I just, feel like we don't have that spark anymore, like the three of us don't feel right."

Your head felt fuzzy, the impending migraine knocking on the doors, and your food trying to crawl its way back out.

"I-I don't," you swallowed and felt your breath stuttering, "you guys are breaking up with me?"

"Yes." Both muttered, finally looking at you.

The finality and assurance both of them spoke with was the shock your body needed. The bile rose in your throat and you got up so fast that the chair fell down with a loud thud, making both of them jump a little in their seats and look at you with concern in their eyes but before they could say anything you ran to the bathroom and emptied all the contents of your stomach.

You felt tears leaking from your eyes, it felt as if your actual heart was going to come out of your mouth at any moment and their presence behind you, their hands rubbing your back, cooing and sympathizing, didn't make you feel warm and safe, but made you uncomfortable, reminding you that this was just them being kind and cordial, and not because they loved you.

As that thought entered your mind, you felt yourself go and let out a sob so loud you surprised yourself.

You pushed Steve's, or was it Bucky's hand away. Now you couldn't stand to feel them touch you. You still loved them. The knowledge that they didn't love you made you physically recoil at their touch. It made you feel worthless, unloved, and discarded by them.

Minutes passed, or was it hours? To you, honestly, it felt like years.

You took deep breaths, your knees up to your chest, back pressed to the bathtub and face hiding between your knees. You didn't want to look at them, but you knew you needed answers or you were going to overthink yourself to death.

"Why?" Your voice didn't feel like yours anymore, hoarse from all the crying, "why did you stop loving me?" You looked at them sitting on the floor in front of you.

Bucky and Steve looked like they were shot, their face grimacing and body wound up so tight that one would think they were being tortured. Maybe one way they were, getting questioned by a mess of a girl, who was so close to breaking down again, you thought.

"I- I don't know," Bucky whispered, eyes screwed shut, his knuckles turning white with how tight his fist was.

You let out a dry chuckle, your voice echoing disbelief and anger, which you were glad to feel. "I find that very hard to believe, James. Can't tell me that you expect me to believe that, do you?"

You knew that hearing James had an effect on him. On both of them. His nostrils flared, and his chest moved with a big breath, but now you really didn't find it in yourself to sympathize. This hurt he felt was nothing compared to the fucking knives lodged into your chest.

He knew you didn't want to be bullshitted, so they braced themselves for the emotionally draining night they were going to have ahead.

"I genuinely don't know, it wasn't one day, like the comfort and warmth I felt while seeing you started dwindling down, slowly," Steve rubbed his hand on his face taking a deep breath and continued, "I-I also felt jealous when Bucky and you would spend time together alone, and it turned to anger that was misplaced and disgusting." He stopped his voice shaky, eyes brimming with tears.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach, your fingers clenching your knees till their were indents in your skin. You looked towards Bucky to say his piece.

Bucky really did look like he was going to fall down and wail at that point. His eyes were red, and tears were free falling at this point. "I do love you, doll, I really do," his voice not above a whisper and tortured, "but I don't know when I stopped being in love with you."

"I tried, I really did try, to try and get back that feeling, because you are along with steve one the best thing that has ever happened to me," he came forward to touch hands on your knees, and you let him. At this point, you were exhausted, this build up was coming up to months now, and this climax was not the one you were expecting.

You also remember, the time a couple of weeks back were Bucky was very, very touchy and romantic. Letters, flowers, romantic dinners, you name it was an every day occurrence from Bucky and you like a fool had been oblivious to the fact that maybe this influx of emotions was the result of something else and not just plain, mind numbing love.

You looked at Steve, you both holding eye contact till his lowered and his lip being on the verge of bleeding with how hard he was biting on it.

"So what? You both held a meeting and decided it was time to end this trio and dump me?"

"I felt like my jealousy and anger was coming on too strong and talked to him, and realized he was on the same wavelength," he rubbed his eyes, his hands shaking. Huh, it was probably the first time you had seen him trembling, "we tried, baby, we really did. But then I realized it was probably better if we let you go instead of being tied to absolute asshole like us."

The anger was returning with full force, for which you felt so grateful, you pushed Bucky's hand holding onto yours like a lifeline away and stood up and left the bathroom, and started pacing around the bedroom.

"You guys are so great, huh?" You spat, pointing towards their general direction. "You get together with me because you love me, and then break up with me because you love me!"

"But it's true, and I am so fucking sorry!" Bucky yelled, wiping his tears. Steve was stroking his arm to calm him down.

Suddenly, seeing both of them now being the comfort for each other, with no need or want for you, was enough to finally pierce through your brain that it was definitely over.

You stepped back slowly and sat down on the couch, uttering with exhaustion, "Okay. I understand, I need you guys to leave."

"Baby-"

"Darlin-"

Both of them knew you, how much you mean what you say, and knowing that, they didn't want to be more cruel than they already had been. With tears streaming down their face, they both left and also left the keys on the kitchen table. When they closed the door, they heard the sob that broke their fucking hearts.

"I'm going to need you guys to stop calling me that. Please stop. Because now it just fucking hurts." You interrupted them.

"Do you think we did the right thing, Steve?"

"No. But it was necessary."

"I'll never forgive us for breaking her heart and ours, too."

"I know, but i'd rather hate myself for the rest of my life than lose her forever. At least this way, she'll still be here, and we can love her from afar."

reblogging and comments are highly recommended!

[bump1nthen1ght]

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your  fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

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

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add  cat food to your grocery list.

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

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check  on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed  a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

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

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.  

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

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

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat.  Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

[angwritez]

THE BAKERY-CAFÉ

SUMMARY: You are the owner of a small bakery-cafe in town. Everyday your regular customer, Nanami Kento comes and gets his usual. Everyday except for today that is.

PAIRING: Nanami Kento x Reader.

WARNINGS: Kinda fluff.

(A/N: Like always, reader is referenced as black. But anyone can read. This is low-key crack tbh. Unedited all mistakes are mine.)

You are the owner of a small bakery-café. You grew up learning to bake pastries, breads, and cakes from your grandparents. They taught you the ins and outs of running the little bakery that they had owned. You grew to love everything about the business because of them.

When you turned 21 your grandparents had gifted you their bakery-café, giving you full ownership as they knew it was something you always wanted. This became your pride and joy.

You enjoyed waking up early in the morning to start the process of making your delicious creations. The sifting, stirring, kneading even the lovely smell gave you a sense of peace and serenity that you carried on throughout the day.

You always admired how much your grandparents worked so hard to get where this little bakery was today with that in mind, you wanted to make them proud and expand the bakery-café.

With taking over the ownership of the small bakery-café you inherited everything including its customers.

One customer that always stood out to you was this 6 feet tall blonde man who’d everyday come to your shop early in the morning he was usually your first customer. He'd been a regular since your grandparents were running the business. Every day he would come in and get his usual order.

Unfortunately, today was going to be different. You had brought a new oven as the one you had was giving lots of trouble. Usually, when you’d buy new appliances, you always tried to use them beforehand. You were extremely busy yesterday so you only had the chance to set it up but not use it.

That was the mistake that you’d made. All the time spent preparing your bread to bake this morning had gone to waste.

Every time you would put your bread to bake inside the oven, and check to see if it was ready, the only thing left inside would be the empty hot tray.

You truly didn’t understand what was going on. You tried once again with a fresh batch and the same thing once again happened.

“What the hell!” You grumbled.

Taking another hot empty tray out the oven you heard a loud knock at the glass door. Looking up you saw that it was Nanami.

Walking towards the door, you opened it. You really didn’t want to be seen like this in front of the man but here you were.

“Uh hey!” you said while taking one of your hands to wipe the sweat off your forehead.

Nanami watched you explain the situation to him, hand movements and all.

He wouldn’t admit it to you but he loved watching you talk about your shop, the way you smiled greeting him through the doors every morning, the blue and white apron you wore that was sometimes covered in flour, the way you would have his order ready for him before he said anything. He truly was falling for you.

“Mr. Kento! Did you hear what I said?” You questioned.

“Please (Y/N), for the last time. Call me Nanami. I heard everything you said, can I see it?”

“Sure. I guess.” You responded.

You watched Nanami open the oven doors removing an object from his holster while he did a quick slashing motion.

“It should be working now.” Nanami speaks.

A puzzled look came across your face. “Thank you?”

Nanami turned to walk out the door.

“Wait! I know it’s not your usual but I have a few Danishes' left from yesterday. Please take them.” You quickly go to fetch them as you notice Nanami reaching for his wallet to pay.

“Please, it’s on the house.” you respond while giving him a small smile.

Shooting a quick thank you, you watched as Nanami left.

You weren’t too sure what Nanami did but he had got the oven to work. It was almost closing time as you started to wipe down the counters and began sweeping.

Your head jolted up hearing the jingle of the bell hanging above the shop's door. It was Nanami again, but with flowers?

“Mr. Ke-I mean Nanami, Your back again?”

“Yes, I came to get my usual.”

“Sure thing, I'll get it ready for you right now.” Heading to the counter you start gathering the items for him. “This is on the house again. I’m grateful for your help this morning.” you say sliding his items to him.

“I’ll pay, it’s alright.” Nanami responds.

“I insist truly.” you spoke.

“Please accept these flowers then. I wasn't sure which ones were your favorite so I bought you an assortment.”

Taking the flowers from Nanami your eyes widened, as you were caught off guard. “Thank you, their beautiful.” You murmured as you felt your cheeks getting hot.

“I’d also like to take you on a date if that’s okay with you?” Nanami spoke.

“I would love that.” You responded back.

Who knew that the man you liked had liked you back.

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angwritez© 2021. Do not modify, claim, translate, or copy my work without my permission.

[readerstories]

Body Heat - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

Summary: Been re-watching Criminal Minds lately, and ofc reading fanfics, and I see that there are very few male readers out there so here’s at least one. Some classic bed sharing because something breaks during a snowstorm and it’s freezing, so time to share body heat ;) (AO3)

Warnings: nsfw, smut

Wordcount: 3891

A case in a small and remote part of North Dakota during the middle of the coldest winter in memory was not ideal to say the least. 

You liked snow and the cold, but even you had your fill by now. Everything is frozen, the ground, the bodies of the victims, even the snow was crunchy and no good to make snowballs with. (All of you had at one point or another almost face planted before getting wise and buying shoe spikes.)

At least the case was over and you had caught the killer alive this time, so that was good.

What was not good, was the snow storm currently raging outside the cabin door, causing the whole team to be stuck waiting for it to clear so you could take off. Because of course, this being a small town, there was no hotel, only small cabins to rent. But at least there were beds to sleep in, a small desk with a chair, a small bathroom (and a fireplace that you had yet to use), which was really all you needed.

The team had split up, since there only were two queen sized beds in each cabin. You had ended up with Hotch, which you really didn’t mind. He was always a quiet roommate, very polite and proper. Didn’t talk much, mostly went right to sleep when he got in, or stared at case files all night.

He was doing the latter right now, while you try to read a few more pages of your book before planning to go to bed for the night. You are trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, determined to at least reach the end of the chapter before sleep takes you. The only lights in the room were the one above your head, and the one on the desk Hotch was using which made it actually kind of cozy, which made your goal even harder.

That coziness disappears in seconds however, when the lights flicker, and then turn off.

Silence, then the both of you try to turn the lights back on a few times. Hotch’s cell pings with a new text, which he quickly reads, the cold light of the screen now being the only light source. 

“Seems the power is out, Morgan is going to the reception house to ask the owner about it since he’s in the cabin closest by.”

“Okay, good, at least it’s not only us.” A few beats of silence, and then another text. Hotch frowns as he reads it.

“Seems like the whole town is dark, the storm has taken out the power, but this place has generators.”

“Great!”

“But it only covers the essential stuff so no pipes will freeze, so we need to keep everything else off.” You nod, forgetting he can’t really see you in the dark.

“So only heat on in the bathroom I’m assuming.”

“Yeah.” You both eye the fireplace, and you sigh. 

“The owner told Morgan they are fully usable.”

“Well, let's see if I remember how to light one, it’s been a while.” You get out of bed, walking over to the fireplace to start trying while Hotch texts with someone, presumably Morgan again.

Stacking wood and finding some old newspaper curled up in the firewood basket, it only takes two tries and a few minutes to get a budding fire going. Proud of yourself as you watch the flames slowly catch while crouching in front of it, you feel Hotch’s eyes on you.

“Did Morgan say anything else?”

“He suggested we move to fewer cabins. I told everyone to stay in their respective cabins, we don’t need anyone risking going out in this weather when we all have good heat sources.” You nod, getting up and stretching.

“Well, I’m going to brush my teeth then try to sleep, and you should too.” Hotch opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him.

“You can look at those casefiles tomorrow, a fire is not the best light source when reading and making notes.” Hotch sighs, knowing that irritatingly you got a point. You smile a quick smile before going to the bathroom. While you’re in there the lights you had turned on before come back to light, but Hotch is quick to turn them off, two small clicks following right after one another. You check the oven in the bathroom, turning it down to half, knowing that should keep the temperature above freezing at least.

Neither you or Hotch speak another word to each other before going to bed, curled up almost fully clothed in your respective bed in the already colder room, even with the fire now going quite well in the fireplace.

You close your eyes, sure that sleep will come easy, as it was not that long ago you had almost fallen asleep while reading, nodding off between each sentence on the page.

But sleep doesn’t come.

Instead, you lay there, head empty of any thoughts, calm, but still you just can’t sleep.

You hear the wind blowing outside, each gust of wind making the cabin creak and groan quietly, barely there, but noticeable in the quiet of the night. The fireplace crackles, giving back at least some of that cozy feeling from earlier.

You can also hear Hotch toss and turn, which is unusual for him. The few times you had seen the man sleep or just been in the same room as him while he did so, he had been still, almost never moving other than his chest going up and down with each breath.

It takes an audible shudder coming from the other bed for you to realize why.

Hotch is cold, very much so. You can’t help the little smile that grazes your lips, almost a quiet laugh in its own right. So the cold is what does the big bad unit chief in huh?

You don’t feel good about it for long however as it’s clear that some solution to the problem is needed, as Hotch sounds no nearer to sleep than you are, and you are certain that like this neither of you will get any rest soon. So you cast a glance over at the fireplace before quickly getting out of your bed. Hotch quietly speaks your name, a question more than anything else. You drag your mattress, your pillow and duvet in front of the fireplace and put it down, turning to face Hotch, who has propped himself up on an elbow, confusion in his knitted brows.

“Come here.”

“What.” The tone is deadpan, not really a question in the word.

“I can hear your teeth clatter, I know you’re cold, so take your duvet and get in front of the fire.” Hotch slowly does as he’s told, surprisingly without asking anything. Or maybe he just sees your point. He drops his duvet next to yours, farthest from the fire, but you tut, moving it closest instead.

“You’re the coldest one, so you can sleep closest to the fire.” Hotch quirks a brow, but sits down on the floor as close to the fireplace as he can.

“Are you sure there is no ulterior motive? Maybe you just want it to be me to catch fire if things go wrong.” You grin, loving when Hotch lets his humor shine through his normally stoic facade.

“Maybe.” You get down on the floor too, laying down at the same time as Hotch. Before he can really react, you pull him close to your chest. It’s the surprise of it all that lets you drag him so he’s tucked under your chin, his hands on your chest.

“What are you doing?” You feel his whole body stiffen, even his words come out like that.

“Body heat.” You hum. Hotch stays stiff for a little while, but then there’s a big sigh as he relaxes a little. Slowly, one of his arms goes over your sides, still slightly unsure about this situation. You smile, resting huffing out a small laugh.

It’s already a lot warmer this close to the fire and though sleeping on the mattress on the floor like this isn’t the best, it’s better than being cold at least. And you’re not complaining about having an excuse to hold Hotch close like this, feeling him shift as he tries to get comfortable.

You feel your eyelids grow heavy, sleep creeping up on you as you get warmer. The last thing you hear before slipping into dreamland is the crackling of the fire, and a faint snore coming from Hotch.

----

Sadly, you wake up just a few hours later needing to pee. You somehow manage to get up without waking Hotch, so you are as quiet as you can be while doing your business. He’s still asleep when you get back, face relaxed.

You stop briefly to watch him sleep, as weird as you know it is. It’s just that you rarely see Hotch without a frown or a face made of stone, so you drink in the sight as long as you dare. Which is only a few seconds, but you stop yourself when you yawn.

With quiet steps you walk over to the mattress, slipping under the duvet and back to the shared warmth. This time it’s you that are dragged into Hotch’s arms as he mumbles something in his sleep. You try not to make any sound of surprise, as not to wake him still. You don’t mind this turn of events at all, as Hotch mumbles some words into your hair before they yet again turn to occasional soft snores. Letting out another yawn, you slip an arm over Hotch’s waist and let sleep take you.

----

It’s still dark out when you wake next, although this time of year it doesn’t say much.

This time it was Hotch moving that woke you, as your arms have made their way around his chest like he has done with his, holding him close and feeling his every move. You can tell by his breathing and movements that he’s awake, so you slowly talk, more or less asking the only question you have right into his chest.

“What time is it?” Another movement, most likely checking his phone.

“6:30 AM.” You groan, his deep and sleep laden voice doing things to your heart and brain you don’t have the awake awareness to think about right now.

“Back to sleep it is.” Hotch chuckles.

“This is past the time I would normally get up.”

“Is the storm still going on outside?” You both listen, and yes, over the low crackling of the now almost dead fire you can still hear the wind taking a hold of everything around it.

“Sounds like it.”

“Great, more sleep for us Aaron.” You can’t see the raised eyebrow, but you can almost hear it in his voice.

“Aaron?” You nod, trying to get in the perfect position to go back to sleep.

“Yeah, it feels weird using your last name when I’m cuddling with you.”

“Sharing body heat.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Aaron chuckles, and weirdly enough he ruffles your hair a bit. Your heart aches at the familiarity of the motion, but again, not awake enough for any of that.

It is then that it happens. In your effort to get comfortable, you shift your leg a little to high, and suddenly your thigh rubs against a clothed, but very obivous, erection. Aaron draws in a small sharp breath as you turn to stone for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, I, uh-” Suddenly more awake, but still not quite there yet, you say nothing at first. You could have made some lame joke about it you suppose, but instead you are just as awkward as him.

“It, it’s uh, fine, um..” Silence for a few beats, then you come to a mutual and unspoken agreement to just ignore it.

However, you find that no matter how hard you try, you can’t.

You’re not pressed up against his crotch or anything anymore, you moved your leg way too fast out of the way for that to still be the case.

But you are still in Aaron’s arms, which makes it hard not to think about it. He’s warm, a little soft, strong, and you can smell his cologne this close. His breath is steady, but too steady, like he’s trying to will himself to sleep. Your head almost spins by the feeling of it all, and your thoughts are no help either, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

The noise he had made had made you stiffen, perhaps from other reasons than you would like to admit.

You don’t know how long you both lay there, trying to or pretending to be asleep, but you know it feel like forever and torture of the slowest kind.

An idea slips into your mind before you can really stop it, making everything else go quiet.

What if you did it again?

You had for a long time admired Aaron, perhaps in more ways than you were willing to admit to yourself or anyone else. And in some fleeting and weak moments you had thought he might be too. A lingering glance or two during a case when he thought you wouldn’t notice, him letting small smiles slip onto his face more often when you were around, him bringing you coffee from time to time.

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself as you move your leg again.

Another sharp breath from Aaron.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you still with your thigh pressed up against his still there erection.

“Trying something.” A beat where neither of you move.

“Stop me if you want.” Aaron says nothing and does nothing, so slowly, oh ever so slowly, you use your leg to rub against him. His breath deepens, and one of his hands moves to your hip, but doesn’t push you away, simply letting it rest there. Your own hands roam across his back, shifting, fluttering, trying to find purpose. In the end you grasp the back of his t-shirt as you slowly start to try to move him too.

Aaron groans, something that makes your own dick start to stir, and then he’s moving, and oh.

He seems in no rush, just rocking his hips ever so slightly forward, pressing himself against your thigh.

His breath is speeding up, and so is yours, almost panting in the quiet of the room.

As good as you are sure it feels, you want more, you almost need more. Removing one hand from his back, you replace your thigh with your hand, rubbing and fully feeling Aaron’s dick strain against the front of his pants. A hitch in his breath, an audible swallow, him continuing to move, now into your hand, spurs you on.

As far as you can tell through the fabric, Aaron is rather large, and certainly excited. You let your hand wander, squeeze, and rub as you please, every so often pausing to grab at his thigh instead, teasingly letting your fingers drag and dance along it.

A thought, and then your other hand is in front of you, gently touching his chest. You back away a few inches, careful to keep your touch still on him. Casting a glance upwards as you start to push his t-shirt up from his stomach, you’re met with intense eyes watching your every move. You swallow, Aaron’s eyes shift to follow the motion, then to your lips as you lick them.

He lets you push his t-shirt up under his armpits, and only then does he do any of the work himself, lifting himself up slightly so he can take it off and drop it on the floor behind you. You don’t let your eyes or hand linger on his scars, instead focusing on his chest.

He’s less hairy than you imagined, but you don’t care at all.

And you had imagined it.

But nothing could compare to the real deal. Feeling him turn to putty in your hands as you rub him through his pants, hear him groan as you let your hand brush against a nipple.

“God, fuck, you-” Aaron stops himself, letting out another groan as you you lean forward and plant a kiss on his chest.

“Ah, fuck, come here.” Before you can ask what he means, there’s a hand in your hair yanking you up, and then you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing Aaron Hotchner.

Fuck.

Fuck yes.

In less than a second you’re kissing back, mouths uncoordinated and messy as they meet. Your hand which had stopped rubbing him, starts up again while you kiss, and he moans into your mouth, which, fuck, that’s hot.

Both of his hands tangled in your hair pull you even closer as you both almost forget you need to breathe, only breaking apart to gulp down some air before diving right back in, lips moving firmly against each other.

Aaron is the first to add tongue, which makes you let out a little gasp, giving him full access.

He takes the opportunity, and not to be outdone, you move your hand from his bulge to the button on his pants. A noise of disappointment turns into a small moan as he realizes what you are doing. With all the noises he is making against your lips, it’s hard to concentrate, so you break the kiss so you can concentrate on zipping him down, and getting into his pants. Aaron moves forward so he can kiss along your throat, letting his teeth nip along the little skin that is showing from under your shirt.

“Fuck!” You groan, feeling the small smile Aaron can’t hide as he kisses your skin.

“Could get used to hearing that more often.”

“Yeah, good, fuck.” You curse whoever invented zippers as you fumble with it as if you were a fucking teenager.

Finally, a few seconds later, you are able to shove your hand into Aaron’s underwear and the smug smile you could feel against your skin turns into a moan.

“Fuck.” It’s low, but you hear it, glancing at him with a grin.

“I would like to hear that too.” You say as you start to pump his length, using his pre-cum as lubrication. Another nip to your skin makes you moan.

“At least your shirts have higher collars.” Aaron teases as he moves his hands from your hair to the hem of your t-shirt, dragging it up. You let go of him only so you can take it off fully, then your hands are right back on him. One on his dick, the other tugging slightly at a nipple.

Aaron drags you in for a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as he lets his hands wander all over you. Up your sides, over your chest, down your stomach. Your breath hitches as you think you know where he is going, but instead his hands settles on your ass, pulling you even closer, so close you can barely move your arm, but fuck, he raises his leg a little and now your hard dick is rubbing against his thigh. He rocks forward, seeking friction for you both, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth.

His cock is heavy in your hand, heat radiating from all off him were you are pressed close, still under the duvets. Your movements aren’t rushed, neither of you in a hurry to finish, but fuck, it feels good. Every rock of Aaron’s hips moves his dick in your hand, and presses him against yours, building up on the desire you feel taking over you.

One of his hands move from your ass to your hair, pulling at it as he stops kissing you briefly to moan into your throat.

“I’m close, fuck.” Your eyes flicker all over his face, greedily drinking in the look in his face. The normally stoic Aaron coming apart in your hands  is a sight to behold. Hair sticking in every possible direction, breathing heavy trough kiss-bruised lips is a sight you will carry forever.

You nod quickly, diving on for another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, come on, don’t hold back on my part.” Aaron groans as he comes, cum seeping trough your fingers as he shakes apart in your hold. You keep gently stroking him as he comes down from is orgasm, stopping when a shiver runs trough his body.

You’re still pressed close, so you you notice quickly when one of his hands moves down your front. He squeezes your cock trough your pants, and you buck your hips into his hand. He chuckles, and then he’s unbuckling your pants, and within seconds his hand is around your cock and moving. You moan, trowing your head back, giving him ample space to lean forward and kiss along your neck.

“Fuck, ah, no marks.”

“Good for you that it is scarf season.” Like the fucking tease that he is Aaron lick a long stripe along your throat, but he does move further down, sucking and biting bruises into the skin on your chest as his hand moves up and down slowly on your cock.

You can’t help the noises the escapes you, moans and groans mixing with heavy breaths. his hands is firm on you, taking you closer and closer with every second, building up until your toes starts to curl.

“Fuck, A-Aaron.” He hums against your skin, placing a last kiss on your collarbone before moving so you’re on eye level once more, a hand in your hair tugging lightly.

“Don’t hold back on my part.” The words are said with a small grin his face, and you div in to kiss him as you cum, spilling all over his hand.

For a few minutes, neither of you move, just catching your breath together in silence. You are the first to move, twisting around so you can get your t-shirt back. Aaron frowns, but you just use it to wipe his hand off and yours. You kiss his knuckles after you clean them off, getting a single laugh as a reaction. Discarding the t-shirt once more, you tuck yourself back into your pants, Aaron doing the same.

A few beats more of silence, both of you not really knowing what to say.

“That was-” Aaron breaks first, but stops himself.

“Yeah...” You can’t help but slowly break into a grin, then a little laughter. He does the same, quiet laughter and a smile making your heart warm as he pulls you back into his still shirtless chest.

You let him, content and almost ready to fall asleep again, but not before you get out some last words.

“Next time I would prefer a bed though.”

“Next time?” He questions as his hand settles against your back.

“Mhm.”

“Alright, I’ll remember that.” He ruffles your hair, placing a single kiss on top of your head. Within minutes you are asleep, back to dreamland in your arms, for once content with sleeping in.

(You don’t take your scarf off on the whole way home, but if anyone in the team notices, none of them mention it, but you can see a smirk threaten to break out on Hotch’s face every time he glances at it.)

[peace-for-levi]

Morgen: Chapter 2; Aduantas

content warnings: self-deprecating thoughts from levi, hints at terminal illness, injury-related gore. also it is mostly unedited, may have typos.

w/c: 5,000

read prev chapter here. || series masterlist

synopsis: you move into levi's apartment, you make fun of him for reading a romance novel and levi recounts on a promise he made

taglist: @starstruckkittensweets , @nelapanela94 , @maries-gallery , @levi-my-beloved , @pockcock , @levmada (lmk if you wanna be added to this!)

check out this amazing fanart by @wortverlust

The boat ride over to Marley took a few days. It was a ferry that took over Eldians wanting a better life, or a life away from Paradis and the painful memories there. Everything about the flower shop had been mostly arranged and had been dealt with by various vendors and shippers over the phone and through letters, and it was all settling nicely.

Moving in was going to be stressful though.

Levi sat on the orthopaedic chair as you unpacked your things. His knees were brought to his chest as he watched you place your things about.

Levi’s apartment wasn’t too big, and you brought many things. Maybe you had underestimated how much space your new roommate would have. Levi lived a pretty minimalist lifestyle so there was more than enough space for one person, but two? Oh, there’d be some acclimatising for sure.

You marvelled at the balcony Levi had in his apartment, happy to see it was there. But it didn’t seem to be used. There was a chair out there, but you could tell it was probably never used since he moved in. The wooden shutter doors to it were closed, and they were the first thing you perused. You pushed them open and noticed how much space there was. Enough space for a table and chair. Granted, the view from the balcony wasn’t fantastic: just a brick wall which had overgrown ivy crawling all over it, and you could hear kids running up and down the alleyway playing ball.

There was enough space for some of your plants too, which had Levi widening his eyes at your suggestion and was quick to turn it down…

“I know what you’re like, you won’t take care of it and it’ll end up being me taking care of your fucking plant.”

“-First of all, it’s called an orchid and second-”

“[Y/n.]”

And that was it. End of discussion.

Not like you wouldn’t challenge it though.

Once it looked like you had stopped packing - temporarily - Levi gave you the not-so-grand tour of his tiny apartment.

He showed you the kitchen and cooking area that had quite a few cupboards given the cramped space. There would only ever be enough space for one person to access the oven and hobs, fridge or sink at one time. The other person would have to wait their turn. The sink had a dish rack at the side, sparklingly clean dishes stacked up and cleaned by Levi from last night. There was a collection of spices to the left of the dish rack, you counted at least ten. Did Levi like to cook?

He hobbled down the hall that was connected to the kitchen and living area and showed you your bedroom. It was at the very end of the hall. It only made sense that Levi got the bedroom closest to the kitchen, given his leg. In between the two bedrooms was the shared bathroom, you assumed. He showed you inside the shared room and it was as pristine as you’d imagine a bathroom in Levi’s home to be. White porcelain tiles ran across the walls and floor, and there was not a hint of mould anywhere. There was a hanging, water-proof container in the shower and it was empty. Possibly for your own things.

Finally, he showed you the bedroom. It was not like your room back on Paradis; for starters, the windows weren’t on the walls. They were on the ceiling and there was a draw blind and a pole for you to pull with.

“Sometimes it’ll get stuck, so I’d recommend investing in an eye mask.” He had warned you.

It was clean, yet knowing the room had its little faults already - such as the draw blind, or the creaking chest of drawers - made it feel like someone lived here before. Probably past tenants, but it didn’t have that “new house” smell.

You began to unpack your things after he finished his tours, folding your clothes and placing them in your drawer. You didn’t pack much clothes - if anything, most of your items were plant and flower related - and you knew you’d need to get more once you made a profit here. You put away your good clothes and your clothes for work, mainly consisting of looser culottes for working and different coloured blouses.

On top of the dresser, you placed the books you bought. Mostly classics, but there was a mostly empty sketch pad. The first page had already been drawn in. The picture with all the lilies.

Finally, after decorating a bit more with a few candles and some flowers, you pull out a painted picture of him.

Neil was his name.

You gulped looking at it, teeth coming down to bite down on your lower lip.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t do more…” you murmured, aloud.

Neil had messy, red hair and green eyes. He had a pointed nose and was the same height as the late Erwin Smith. Of course, Erwin beat him when it came to seriousness most of the time. But that didn’t stop Neil Larsson taking his job as Squad Leader seriously.

“Oi,” came Levi’s voice. Crap, did he hear you talking to yourself (the painting)?

“What is it?”

“Dinner, may I come in?” he said. With an ‘mhmm’ from you, he pushed the door open and had come in with a pole. He took your old one and you nodded thanks, leaving ahead of him.

The pole was stronger, and he hooked the draw blind shut and the room was enshrouded in darkness. Still, enough light came in from the hallway and kitchen. Enough light for him to see the painting of Neil.

He picks it up gently, knowing it was probably five years old at least and prone to tearing.

He wonders if you have moved on yet - it had been a few years after all - but then he remembers you have yet to take the wedding band off.

Probably not then.

He places the painting down and joins you in the kitchen

--

You had never expected Levi to be a good cook. Not that you doubted his abilities, but you had never seen him cook before. But as you sat on the sectional sofa with the dinner table standing before you, your eyes caught some purchased cooking books. You thought they were empty purchases but as you flicked through them, you saw pencilled in alterations to the ingredients, particularly towards anything in the baked goods containing sugar.

It seems Levi Ackerman had developed a bit of a sweet tooth while he was away from Paradis.

With gentle movements, the aglio e olio was placed in front of you. You could faintly smell a bit of lemon that he had sprinkled over.

“Fork and spoon? Or are you going to eat like a child?” he asked as he served himself up a portion, holding a fork and spoon in one hand.

“I’ll take both.”

You stood up and reached out to grab the utensils from him and your fingers momentarily laced around his. He was quick to stop dishing up and looked back at you.

He could still feel the fucking ring.

Well, that’s what he got for thinking about it ever since he saw you outside the empty building a few hours ago. He swallowed thickly and returned his gaze to the spaghetti once you returned to the table.

He wanted to throw it out the window, the ring. Fuck, why did it have to be still on your finger? After all these years? He knew the answer, but he was trying to convince himself that the reasons behind it were completely illogical and irrational.

He has to pause and reel himself in when he catches the anger and jealousy bubble up inside him. He has been aching for your presence for a year - he should be happy.

He goes to sit down in front of you and twirls the spaghetti on his fork. You don’t hear any slurping, and he makes no mess as he slurps. Neat and not messy, the way he was known to you. Only his mind was all messed up now that you were here.

His mouth moved before he registered what he had uttered. “Did you move next to me on purpose?”

It didn’t mean to come out that way. Shit, why can’t he be good with words? He was more than happy pining for you while you two lived your separate lives with an ocean flowing between you both. He was fine. He was good. He was great (not really, but he will convince himself that he was.)

And in the blink of an eye, you two were roommates.

Was your nighttime routine different to his? What’s he supposed to do now? Do you two eat breakfast together in awkward silence the way you two are eating dinner now? Who buys the groceries?

He loved worrying about these things because he knew lives weren’t on the line regardless of what decisions you two came to regarding your living situation. But saints he was not used to this, to worry about things of very little consequence.

“Yes, Levi, I’m good. You know, it’s customary to ask the person who you haven’t seen in a year how they are first,” you insisted.

It wasn’t necessarily on purpose. It was just the letting you could afford, but you were on the fence about leaping across the pond just to set up a flower shop on a whim. But when the landlord told you he had a tenant who lived next door who was a bit anti-social, was an injured soldier from the War of Heaven and Earth and owned a tea shop, you quickly signed the lease and paid the necessary down payment.

“Can we call it fate and leave it at that? You should be delighted to see me, we were like besties!” you chimed.

Stiff silence brimming with palpable tension fell between the two of you. You clear your throat and try to move the conversation along.

Is there a point, you wonder? Because back in headquarters before the Rumbling, you two would talk and have conversations, but sitting in silence drinking tea was equally enjoyed.

“I, uh-- I’m sorry, Levi,” you mumbled. “Things are different and tense and I know that, it’s wrong for me to expect things to go back to normal--”

Levi stopped you from speaking by pushing his chair out and standing up. He left his half-eaten dinner on its plate and placed it in the fridge.

“I’m sorry…” you found yourself saying as he hobbled away. “Levi!”

He turned around slowly and the haggard look on his face almost made you not want to speak ever again. “What?”

He still answered. He’d always answer to you no matter how much his head ached or how full his heart felt with emotions he still didn’t know how to express.

“You’ll eat that later, won’t you?”

If it was Sasha asking that question, perhaps he’d lose his damn mind because that meant, “So can I eat that later?”

But you always asked him these questions.

“You’ll eat that later, won’t you?”

“You’ll try to go to sleep, won’t you, Levi?”

“Levi, why not get some air?”

It was your way of asking, If I’m not there, will you still look after yourself? Whether that meant you not being there for a few hours, or you never being there again, he never knew - and never wanted to know - but he knew it was you asking him to care for himself no matter how in his head he got.

Maybe it did mean the latter though, because there was one time when you had locked yourself inside the infirmary for two months. You were simply too caught up in your own situation to care for other people. He had to look after himself then, without you reminding him of the basic things - no matter how bad his mental health got. He had to be there for himself when you couldn’t be there for him, even when you couldn’t be there for yourself at that time.

It was funny how the power dynamic had reversed itself for those two months back in 850… How he had become the person to bring you dinner in the infirmary and with a cup of tea, or how he’d knock on the door to your bedroom that had exploded into a study of books and loose parchment papers to remind you to sleep. Or how he reminded you, much like Hange, to go take a bath (but he always phrased it nicely to you.)

And he always did this while watching you wear the bravest of faces nearly every damn day.

And he hated that face, because it was so normal-looking.

Unreadable, even.

Much like him.

–

You walked through the aisles of the grocery store a few hours later once Levi told you how to get there. Most of your flower shop had been sorted out for its grand opening tomorrow. The flowers had been watered and tended to, the cash register was set up. You had been working at the display all day.

Should you buy some decorations at the furniture store?

Wait, shit, where was the furniture store?

Scratch that.

You did decide that you were going to cook for Levi tomorrow since he cooked tonight. Maybe that would become a routine? Maybe you two could establish a routine again? Drinking tea, doing paperwork, exercising–

Wait, Levi probably wouldn’t be doing that as much. He retained most of his muscle, but he had no reason - nor the ability - to train as hard as he used to.

On your way to the grocery store, a cat had followed you all the way back home. It took a bit of shooing to make it go away and give you a bit of space to think about what you wanted to get. (You always told yourself you’d bring a list, but never did.)

You picked up a few more things before walking idly around the store, familiarising yourself with this new environment but when the shopkeeper announced the closing hours were approaching, you hurried out.

You walked through the door of the shared apartment shortly after dusk had settled. You hung your waistcoat on the coat hanger and scuffled out of your shoes. That was when you heard a loud thud and a pained groan coming from down the hall. The groan had an echo to it, so it had come from the bathroom.

“Levi?!” you called out, your feet moving on their own accord. You heard hand sticking to the floor as he crawled over to hurriedly shut the door in your face. “Levi, are you okay? Did you fall?”

You knew the answer, no other thud could have made a sound like that. And given Levi’s condition, you assumed he must have had falls often. You had seen the wound before, but once you heard he had surgery, you naively assumed his leg could have been saved.

“Go away.” You heard. You felt your heart splinter a bit. As cold as his tone was, you could hear the wobble in its tone; he hurt himself badly.

“Levi, let me in.” You replied, immediately.

“I said, go away.”

His voice was harsher this time, and it sounded like a warning. Please, I can’t have you seeing me this way, he wanted to say, but of course, his words would never come out like that.

His back was to the door and the pain was pulsing and throbbing, radiating white hot pain up and down his leg, up to his head. He could feel it through his teeth and in his ears. He is normally concerned not of the injury to his leg, but the injury this ordeal has done to his brain; the way it has changed the way others perceive him. He’s no longer Humanity’s Strongest, but saints he wishes he was. He was more invincible that way.

“You either let me in, or I am kicking the door down. You know I am strong enough to.”

And he knows you are indeed strong enough. It wouldn’t take too much strength for you to punch through it and unlock it from the inside yourself.

Plus, he didn’t want to get in trouble with his landlord.

With whatever strength he could muster, he kneels and unlocks the door before shuffling away, leaning up against the bathtub.

You stepped inside and noted he had changed to looser, loungewear pants. He was wearing a grey tank top and his signature bangs were hanging in his face as he leaned his forehead against his knee. The sight had you dropping your Lilies of the Valley bouquet and sinking down with him.

“What is it? What happened?” you asked, and he pointed up to the open mirror. It was one of those mirrors you could slide to the side and would reveal a few shelves. You stood up and took note of the pain medications, salves and other various medicines for not-so-serious ailments like fever medication, cough syrup, or decongestants. There was also a razor, scissors and shaving cream, and other small things for basic hygiene.

He was pointing to some alcohol solution, and you stood up to reach it.

“I’ll need a cloth too.” He spoke out.

You put two and two together. “You were getting ready to clean your wound, but tripped and missed the solution.” You deduced.

He had decided to do this while you were out.

He really didn’t want you seeing him like this, it seems.

You acquired a white, cotton cloth, a bucket and filled it up with tap water. The water sloshed around in the bucket, spilling on the floor a small bit. You’d deal with that later though. You sat down beside Levi and leaned forward, pinching the bottom of his loose pants.

“Roll these up, I’ll clean it.”

Levi turned to look at you like you had three heads. “What?”

“Just do what I say.” Your voice was commanding.

It was very hard to disobey you when your tone switched like that. It would scare even the toughest of soldiers, how you could ‘snap’ like that. Scared wouldn’t have been the right word for Levi, but he knew not to otherwise test you. He rolled up the legs of his pants. He folded it back until you could start to see the discolouration of his normally pallid skin, now marred with etches of pink that twirled and contorted into a viscous, angry-looking web of scar tissue. Looked like a gnarled tree trunk, too twisted up and mutilated with no hope of healing back properly. The scar dipped in an inch or two - you weren’t sure, but it was a ghastly looking dip in his flesh - and you could make out some teeth marks from the Titan that got him if you squinted.

“Relax…” you whispered softly, and Levi’s head lolled back to rest against where your arms would rest on the bathtub. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see any of your reactions, but was dying to see them at the same time.

It hurts.

It’s ugly.

I am ugly. I am hideous.

These thoughts plague him every day as they do now, and were amplified whenever he brought his fingers up to smooth under his marred face.

Please don’t look at me.

You had opted to not use the alcohol solution, not wanting to exacerbate his pain anymore than what it already was. You draped your argyle cardigan around him, and his hands already went to fist the woollen article of clothing in preparation of the pain he was about to feel. You submerged the cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess.

Then it made contact with his thigh and he hissed.

You had to bite down on your inner lip to not show that your heart was bleeding to see him in this state. Your other thumb had taken to rubbing circles in his good leg, hoping he’d focus on that sensation. You moved the cloth along the rough skin, cleaning it as gently as you could.

“Shit…” he groaned through gnashed teeth.

You stopped and left the cloth hanging over the edge of the bucket. You look at him, begging for him to come back and look at you. He feels your pleading eyes and he returns the gaze. Your face is one of sympathy and pity.

“Don’t… look at me like that…” he murmurs. Your thumb went to tap the edge of his scar, looking at it again as if you had some childlike curiosity and admiration for it. “D-Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Stop looking at it.”

You looked back at him now, obeying his wishes. “Why, though?”

“It’s not pretty.”

“Well, it’s a scar. It’s not meant to look ‘gorgeous’, per se…” you began, and looked back down. “Doesn’t mean it’s ugly either.”

He felt his heart lurch forward a bit upon hearing that. He was expecting you to be so repulsed by it, by him. He knows you had been seeing such injuries - and far worse - for years, but… that time of your lives was now over. You had a year of not being injured or seeing people come back from failed expeditions. Perhaps he was naive - again - to think that you were gonna be sensitive and squeamish about this.

Because you were right. It was just a scar.

But how did his face look to you?

Was he not scary? Hideous?

He doesn’t ask or say anything about it, not wanting to put you on the spot. You go to clean again.

Your movements are slow, languid and in no hurry. They’re gentle, and he wants more of your touch. He’s addicted and he’s hungry. He wants your touch in other areas of his body, but he scolds himself as soon as such a lustful thought comes into his mind. He has to scrunch his face together and think of something else - anything else - to distract himself.

There’s silence apart from his occasional pained grunts, and you roll the leg of his pants down again once you let the water air-dry. You didn’t want fabric sticking to his wound.

“What were you doing before this?” you asked.

“Reading, in the living room.” He replied. He sounded haggard, but you expected as much.

You helped him up and you offered to assist him to the living room, but he refused saying he’d be fine with his cane instead. A small battle of the wills ensued between the pair of you, but Levi could and would be just as stubborn. He hobbled over to his orthopaedic chair and let his bad leg rest on the ottoman before pulling out the book he was reading again. In the meantime, you changed into your pyjamas.

It had been a long day.

You clambered out again in pastel coloured camisole top and shorts and Levi had to glue his eyes into his book or he was sure he’d stop breathing.

You plopped down in front of him with your own book and as you read the blurb of his book, you audibly gasped.

“Levi… are you reading a romance novel?”

“Shut up.”

You gasped again and sprung to your feet, sitting on the armrest of his chair. You eyed the words and giggled. “‘Their hands intertwined and they looked at’-- Levi this is a romance novel!”

“Shut up!”

Giggling like a schoolgirl you sat before him again, you turned open the pages of your own book. The candles in the room had been lit and created a soothing atmosphere which was very much needed after what happened in the bathroom. The sitting room glowed amber, the only thing that was missing was a fireplace. That would be truly relaxing.

“So… Do you have many romance novels, Levi?”

Levi let out a grunt in response, not wanting to answer. But he did after a few minutes. “Bookshelf next to me, I’m in the middle of a series… But there are also classics, thrillers, poetry collections and some encyclopaedias.”

You smiled. “It’s nice to see you have become a bookworm of sorts. It’s honestly kinda cute!”

Heat rose to Levi’s cheeks immediately, he lifted the book up further to hide any such evidence. Also to hide his line of sight from looking directly at your short pyjamas. He wasn’t complaining - far from it actually - but it was not a sight he wanted burned into his brain on the very first day you two started living together.

You went back to your flower bouquet and went to find an appropriate vase or jug of water and placed them on the table, separating them so that every flower could get some of the sunlight that would shine through Levi’s lovely shutter doors and windows.

“I know we got off to a rough-ish start here, but Lilies of the Valley symbolise newfound happiness… And, well, I know I am happy I have come here.” You spoke aloud, assuming he wasn’t listening.

But he was. He listened to everything you said, and more.

He would always keep an eye on you and look after you.

Not because he wanted, but because he swore to.

.

.

There was a knocking against the door, and Levi was taken out of the trance of his paperwork. He just had to sign his name at the bottom of the death certificates, but it was very easy to become hypnotised looking at the same coloured paper, doing the same, monotonous movement with your hand.

“What.”

“It’s Neil Larsson, sir. May I come in?”

Levi stiffened in his seat at the mention of your partner. He had never come to speak to Levi without you, or unless there was a meeting with all the Squad Leaders. What would warrant a visit now, and so late?

“Come in.” He said with a great exhale.

The candles lit on Levi’s desk almost made Neil’s hair shine orange and it made his deep, green eyes look cavernous and invitingly warm. He smooths his hair back before sitting before the Captain, as he always did before speaking to a superior. He sits at the edge and brings his elbows to his knees, resting his head in his hands. Levi knew at this moment this was going to be a serious discussion.

Neil doesn’t speak and Levi has to ask him to speak up or he is getting sent out.

“I know you and [F/n] are close,” he began, and Levi’s scribbling stopped. “So in that regard, please look after her after and just… be there for her.”

Levi eyed him precariously. He had every intention of doing that, though under the guise of him being his usual asshole self. Neil stood up then, prepared to leave as quickly as he walked through the door.

And that was when he fell down, totally unprompted. Levi hummed in response, but when the man didn’t get up immediately after falling, Levi stood up to assist him.

“No need to be so dramatic…” he mumbled and bent down to assist him up.

“It’s been happening all the time, Captain Levi.”

The shorter man quirked a brow. “What, you being a klutz?”

“The doctors have told me it’s not me being a klutz.” Neil stated, matter-of-factly. His green eyes searched for his superior’s grey ones, asking him to listen and take him seriously. “I need you to promise me, sir, to look out for her when I…”

Levi didn’t say anything, looking into the eyes of green intensely. Levi took note of his leg twitching and spasming a small bit. He reached out and placed his hand on it, to stop the seemingly ceaseless movements.

“I’m dying, sir, and I don’t have much time left… Promise me you’ll look out for [F/n] when I go.”

[nurse-buckley]

Muchas Manos En La Olla Echan El Guiso A Perder

Fandom: 9-1-1  Word Count: 1,676 Pairing: Buddie x Reader  Warnings: mentions of blood and injury.  Summary: Like the title says, ‘too many cooks spoil the broth.’  Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @fireladybuckley @pupandangelscoffee @winterreader-nowwriter @dayrin085 Beta’d by the amazing @evanbuckos

“Thanks for letting me use your kitchen Eddie.” Your kitchen was being renovated, and when Athena and Bobby announced they were having a barbeque, you knew you couldn’t show up empty handed. Eddie was kind enough to offer up his oven for you, and invited you and Buck over to cook your respective dishes together. 

You, Eddie, and Buck get to work, Eddie preparing the bread rolls for the oven and Buck chopping vegetables for the salad. The pie you offered to make for dessert had already been cooked and was cooling on the side, so you offer your services to help Eddie with the tortilla española he’d offered to make, recipe courtesy of his abuela.  

You all fall into a comfortable rhythm, moving around each other in synchronicity as you prepare your plates for the barbeque. Eddie opens his phone, connecting it to his bluetooth speakers, wiggling his hips to the beat as he continues his prep. You let out a laugh watching his dance, gaining Buck’s attention. 

The younger firefighter, upon seeing his friend, begins an impromptu food fight, grabbing a piece of tomato from his chopping board and throwing it in his direction. You shake your head, not wanting to be involved in their antics, dodging the piece of food as it flies passed you.  

Choosing to ignore them for the time being, you grab the mandoline and begin slicing the potatoes for Eddie into thin discs. You don’t notice the piece of cucumber flying towards you from Eddie’s direction, your mind too focussed on thinly slicing the ingredient in front of you. The piece of food misses its target of Buck, instead hitting you. You flinch in retaliation to the object flying towards you, the potato slipping in your hands and your fingers slicing against the blade. 

The laughing ceases, the two men not knowing what your reaction would be to being brought in to their antics. Your silence worries them as you pause chopping the vegetables, staring down at the chopping board. The cheerful music playing a stark contrast to the energy that now fills the room. 

“Y/N?” Eddie asks. 

You’re still frozen in place, staring down at the chopping board as you turn to him. It’s then he sees the blood flowing freely from your index and middle finger.  

He drops what he’s doing, grabbing a clean cloth from the drawer and moving to your side immediately. “Buck, get the first aid kit, now!” 

The younger firefighter sprints into action, running out of the kitchen to find the box of supplies he knew Eddie keeps in the bathroom cabinet. 

“Shit, I am so sorry.” 

He presses the rag firmly to your fingers, holding your hand above your heart to try and stem the bleeding. He chances a look, removing the cloth to see the damage, only being met with a fresh stream of blood that trickled down your arm. 

Your face pales as you realise the magnitude of your injury, sucking in a breath, not sure if it’s from the shock of seeing the blood or the pain emanating from your fingers. 

Eddie doesn’t miss your reaction, attempting to get your focus on him and away from your injury,  “hey, keep your eyes on me, okay?” 

You suck in a breath, the pain alone was enough to make you feel sick, but the sensation that made your stomach churn was the feel of the warm liquid soaking through the rag and down your fingers as Eddie held your hand in the air. 

You chance a look, not being able to resist, attempting to see the damage you had caused to the digits. Eddie’s reflexes kick in as he sees your face pale and your eyes start to roll back. He uses his free hand to press you against the counter, pressing his body against you, sandwiching you between him and the counter in an attempt to keep you upright. “Easy, I got you.” 

The jolting sensation of being pushed into the counter brings you back slightly. You still feel woozy, leaning into the man next to you for support. “Sorry,” you begin, “looks like tortilla española is off the menu.” 

Eddie lets out a chuckle in disbelief at your apology, “doesn’t matter, what matters is getting those fingers seen to.” 

Buck returns, his face conveying his worry upon seeing you so pale and unstable. He rushes to your side, placing the first aid kit on the counter next to you and helping Eddie keep you upright. 

“Let’s get you laying down,” Buck takes your other side, taking the majority of your weight to allow Eddie to keep pressure on your wounds. 

The two firefighters gently lay you on the floor, Buck cradling your head as they lower you down. The younger firefighter leaves your side momentarily, returning with a chair, and gently lifts your legs, elevating them in an attempt to stop you from going into shock. 

The younger man looks towards Eddie, seeing he’s ready to take another look at your injuries and begin treating them. “Just keep looking at me alright,” Buck’s gaze never leaves you as he picks up your uninjured hand, squeezing it in his own. 

You suck in a breath as you feel Eddie removing the cloth from your hand, keeping your focus on the other man. “How bad is it?”  

“I don’t think you need the emergency room. I can treat it here if you want me to.” 

You nod, regretting the decision immediately as the dizziness returns. “Yeah, please. I don’t want to go to the hospital.” 

Buck gives your hand another reassuring squeeze, bringing your focus back in the moment. You allow yourself to relax slightly, feeling like a weight has been lifted knowing that you wouldn’t have a stranger looking after you.  

After a few more minutes of pressure, Eddie was happy the bleeding had stopped enough for him to dress the wounds on your fingers. “You alright to sit up for me? It’ll be easier to patch you up at the table.”  

Buck lets go of your hand momentarily, placing his hand around your shoulders, supporting you into a sitting position. His free hand comes to your uninjured hand, his fingers moving to the pulse point there. Once he’s happy you’re stable enough to move he nods to Eddie, the silent conversation between them signially their next move. The younger firefighter helps you to stand, all the while keeping a firm grip with an arm around your waist. The pair lead you to the table, sitting you down in the chair before Buck leaves to grab the first aid kit he’d left in the kitchen. 

Buck passes the box to Eddie, opening it and unpacking the materials he needs. It looks more like the kit bags you stock on the firetruck than a family first aid box. You’d laugh were it not for the pain in your fingers throbbing in time with your pulse. 

The medic begins pulling out plastic vials of saline, dressing packs, tegaderm and so on. By the time he’s finished gathering the supplies he needs, the table is covered in gauze, tape, and bandages. 

Buck is at your other side, your hand in his, talking about anything to distract you. Eddie chips into the conversation between preparing his work surface. Your anxiety begins to rise as you see Eddie pulling on a pair of surgical gloves, announcing that he’s ready if you are.  

Your anxiety doesn’t go unnoticed by the younger man, “just keep looking at me, okay?” 

Eddie gently pulls your hand away from Buck’s grasp, checking under the rag, happy the bleeding has stopped. “We’ll go at your pace, if you need me to stop or feel like it’s getting too much, just say and we’ll take a break.” 

You nod, smiling for the first time since your accident. You feel lucky to have them with you. 

“I guess it's true what they say, muchas manos en la olla echan el guiso a perder.”  

Buck frowns in confusion at Eddie’s statement, “what does that mean?” 

You let out a scoff, shaking your head, “it means too many cooks spoil the broth. More like two idiots partaking in a food fight gets the innocent party injured...”   

The pair apologise in unison, feeling incredibly guilty that their actions had caused this to happen to you. 

Once confirming you’re ready, Eddie begins by opening one of the saline tubes, wetting a piece of gauze. He looks up to you for consent before he begins cleaning the wounds on your fingers. He gently rubs around the wounds, ensuring your fingers are clean before wiping the dried blood that had crusted on to your fingers and hand. Grabbing another piece of gauze, he gently dabs at the area, drying around the wounds. He applies the first dressing to each of your fingers, securing the adhesive around each finger before applying the additional bandages, securing them with tape. 

Buck grabs the sling Eddie had laid out, gently holding your wrist as he places the sling over your chest. He gently places your arm back across your chest, tying the bandage around the back of your neck, successfully elevating your hand. 

Buck glances at his watch, looking between you and Eddie, who is now busy cleaning up the wrappers from the table. “We can still make it if we leave now. You both still up for it?” 

You glance at Eddie who shrugs, looking back at you for confirmation. “I’m up for it if you are.” 

The pain is still throbbing in your fingers and you take a moment to think if you are up to facing other people. You decide you still want to go, knowing being with your friends, your work family, would be a better distraction than staying inside. 

“Lets go,” you pause for a minute, thinking back to the mess in the kitchen, “we have the pie, but we might need to run by the store though, if we don’t want to turn up empty handed!”

[greeksorceress]

the elephant in the room

the outsiders, drabble.

characters: ponyboy curtis, darry curtis, two-bit mathews (mentioned), sodapop curtis (mentioned).

warnings: nothing is explicit here, but they’re dealing with war, the death of a family member, and grieving.

Wednesday, 8th October 1969.

As I step inside the warmth of our home, I have only two things on my mind: mom’s finest dinnerware set on top of the table and the lack of Two-Bit’s presence. 

“Darry?” I ask, and I know he’s heard me because the noise coming from inside the kitchen pauses. I don’t know what to do, because this isn’t what I wanted to come home to, not by a long shot. So, I state the obvious, for starters. “Darry, ‘m home.”

Darry’s head peeks from behind the kitchen’s wall and he gestures towards the table. “Sit, I’m almost done here. How was the studyin’ session?”

My eyes sweep over the table’s arrangement and the three empty chairs. Darry’s cooking smells nice, but my stomach clenches painfully as if closing down when I realize what’s inside the oven. When I finally get enough courage to look back at Darry, he’s not here anymore. He has gone back to the kitchen, and it should be pathetic of me to be so relieved about this, but right in this moment, I need as much time as I can get and this feels like getting a head start. I’ll take it.

“It was fine. Uh, sorry for being late. We were discussing this formula and got carried away. Missed my bus...” I trail off as I take off my gloves and my scarf.

My mind is swirling with ideas and none of them convince me fully. I could turn my back to all of this and open the door, run back to the cold street and hope that by the time I come back home everything will be solved by its own. Then I remember, I’m not fourteen anymore. 

So, I stay. I purse my lips and take my sweet time folding my scarf properly to leave it on top of the sofa by the door. Then, I do the same with my coat, and it doesn’t make my day any better but it feels kind of grounding, I guess. 

“Don’t worry,” Darry’s voice sounds closer than I expected and it makes me startle. “You’re just in time.” 

Darry’s setting the food —I was right about the smell— on the table, and he’s not even looking at me. I don’t push it, not today, because I don’t want this charade to break into a million little pieces. I simply take my seat by the table and start pouring the water from the jug to my glass. I even open Darry’s beer for him.

It seems that missing my bus on purpose and waiting by the stop for an hour and a half by my lonesome ass hasn’t worked as I had hoped for. I don’t know why I still get surprised when my plans don’t come out as I want. I was supposed to come home right on time to see Two-Bit and Darry finishing dinner by themselves and getting my way out of this by pretending to be too cold to function. Running to my room and locking myself there feels too cruel now that Darry is alone and the silverware is on the table. 

Darry goes to the kitchen to get some sauce and then sits down too. We start eating right away. The food is still hot, steam comes from inside the baked potatoes when I cut them, but we dive into it anyways. 

“Where’s Two? Thought he left work early on Wednesdays.” I go for casual, as if I hadn’t checked the calendar to make sure Two-Bit was going to be here before leaving for class. Darry is nice enough to pretend I achieved the tone I was looking for. 

“Not today. He’s busy,” Darry’s fork scraps against the porcelain of his plate and the noise makes us both jump. “Said somethin’ about his sister, me thinks.” 

I grunt to acknowledge his response. My tongue burns after I harshly bite into a steamed piece of red pepper. I’m scrambling to say something else but the words seem to be stuck, and for a second I’m scared that I’m actually choking on the chicken roasted in a very specific way that has never been Darry’s favorite. It’s never been mine, either.

I should’ve known that Darry would tell Two-Bit to get lost today. Two-Bit would’ve made a couple of jokes by now, he would’ve diverted Darry’s attention and energy towards himself, and it would’ve been so much easier to pretend. Instead, Darry and I don’t even dare to look away from our plates, scared that we would immediately notice the empty chair between us. 

The rest of the dinner is just as awkward and painful, we eat in silence when we can deal with it and then throw trivial and unimportant questions at each other when it becomes too much. I learn about Darry’s coworker and how bad he messed up this one project, and in turn, Darry learns about the teacher that spits when he talks that has all of us fighting for the last rows.

I’m almost letting myself get into a false pretense of normalcy when I see Darry standing up abruptly. I stand up too, assuming we’re about to take the dishes back to the kitchen, but he halts me to a stop with just one look. It’s not even a mean look, he’s not glaring and his face is not showing any sign of anger. It’s the sadness shinning in his irises what makes me stay still.

“No worries, I’m just...” he points towards the kitchen and goes there, as if he had just explained everything to me. 

I busy myself by playing with my napkin, trying to keep my fidgeting fingers busy, so I don’t actually notice when he comes back. By the time I realize he’s put something else on the table it’s too late to school my face into neutrality. 

There’s a chocolate cake right in front of us. No, there’s a birthday chocolate cake right in front of us, with the candles and all, and I look at it as if I had been personally brutalized by its layers. 

“Are we celebratin’ somethin’ now?” The words feel like pointy knives slicing through the tissue and inner muscles of my throat. 

Darry takes his lighter from the pocket of his shirt and lightens all the candles with practiced patience. I want to scream, but I think this time the chicken I ate might actually come all the way up if I dare to open my mouth in protest.

So, instead, I do nothing. I wait for the candles to be lit and then, we sing. There’s nobody to look at, nobody to sing happy birthday to and congratulate on this day. I look at the candles instead, and I see the flames dancing to the rhythm of our voices. 

When the song ends and we cut three pieces and I finally get to dig my fork into mine, there’s already enough bile pooling under my tongue to notice the sweetness of the dessert and my stomach is too upset to take it.

It’s the first time we sing happy birthday to Soda and he isn’t there to blow the candles. 

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 2

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  Vampire!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of PTSD, Reader is ex police, Possible home invasion, NSFW sexy times, protected sex.

Previous Parts: Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars.  Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Chapter 2

Walter had managed to recover from the shock of seeing his best friend and his wife being able to make their eyes glow, and as unbelievable as it sounded, had accepted their explanations of how they’d been turned into Werewolves. Much like his own knowledge of Vampirism before he had been turned himself, he quickly understood that what the media made these quirks of nature to be and what they actually were had been greatly exaggerated. 

Sy had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with him, sharing the better part of a bottle of bourbon as he’d described how it affected their family, and how his wife only turned when her period coincided with a full moon, and how they dealt with childcare during the times that they would turn. 

-

Walter woke with a start, the soft mountain light pouring in the windows and for a moment he was confused, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered spending the rest of the night on Sy’s couch. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died, and he swore in that moment not to share hard liquor with someone that could howl at the moon. Finding some painkillers high in a kitchen cabinet he crushed two between his teeth before drinking straight from the tap. Standing tall he moved his neck, trying to get the kinks and knots out of his muscles when a pair of fluffy slippered feet appeared in the doorway. Looking up Walter poorly suppressed a laugh as he saw Sy wearing a pair of sheepskin moccasins and what was obviously his wife’s robe;

“Reginald, you look stunning” Walter muttered as he watched his friend shuffle into the kitchen

Sy held up his finger and waggled it, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the window;

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that, the only people that call me that are the preacher or my Ma, and unless you’re planning on marrying me or making me biscuits...”

Walter laughed, leaning against the counter as Sy filled the coffee pot as if he was on autopilot, before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a baby bottle with the previous day’s expressing date on. Setting the bottle to warm in a bowl of water he handed Walter a tin of coffee;

“Fill that up, i’m gonna go get Luna”

A few minutes later he reappeared holding his little girl in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket covered in moons and stars. Grabbing the bottle before settling at the kitchen table, he popped the lid off and shook the bottle, before lifting it and shaking a few drops onto his tongue, laughing when he saw Walters eyes go a little wide;

“Better straight from the source but Mama is sleepin’ so its me in Mama’s robe” he explained with a grin on his face. Walter placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Sy; “Thanks man… hey, in the fridge there’s a pint of pigs blood from Walkers Meats… ya’know, if you need it”

“Why have you got pigs blood?”

“The missus was gonna make some Scottish thing, some sorta sausage, but if you need it, we can always get another… in fact she’s gonna be too tired to use it before it spoils, what with the full moon and all...”

Sy turned his attention to his tiny daughter feeding in his arms, giving Walter the sense of privacy to do what he needed to do. As Luna finished her bottle Sy held her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp he would have been proud of himself, only looking up when he heard Walter also let out a low belch;

“You need me to rub your back too Walt?”

“Fuck off Sy” the vampire said lightheartedly, a sense of relief in his mind now that the guy that had become one of his best friends knew his secret.

-

Pulling the last crate of bottles off the back of the pickup you thanked the guy from the craft brewery and waved him off, taking a deep breath before slowly climbing the fire escape at the back of the bar that led into the storeroom. It had been a long shift already, starting at 10am you’d opened up and started the ovens, restocked the bar as the cleaners had come through and cleaned the place top to bottom. Your boss was always decent to his staff, paying a good wage and having the cleaning crew come in during the closed daytime hours rather than in the early hours of the morning.

Working around them as they did their job, you restocked the caddy’s on the tables with silverware, napkins, and condiments, before returning to the bar and checking on the ice machine.

“Hey we’re all done now” one of the cleaners said as you looked up.

“That’s great, thanks. You guys always make this place look good”

Chatting with them you walked them through the storeroom - something your boss always insisted on that any non bar staff had to be escorted through - before one reached for the wooden rail on the fire escape. Something made you stop talking and before you could stop yourself, one hand was pushing one of the guys back into the storeroom, the other was grabbing the shirt that was already standing outside. Just as you did the rail slipped away, as if in slow motion, the three of you looking in fear as the heavy wood crashed twenty feet below onto the empty kegs that were stored beneath.

Speechless you stood there, fingers still curled around the shirt of one, hand splayed across the chest of the other;

“Fuck” you whispered quietly, not to anyone in particular.

“You could say that…”

-

Having made sure both cleaning guys were ok, if a little shaken up, you made them leave by the front door then considered your options. Dialling the boss you weren’t surprised to hear it ring out before going to voicemail. He had strict downtime rules, and was more than likely out on his ranch land taking care of his horses. Knowing he trusted you to make the right judgement, you scrolled through your numbers and dialled Marshall’s Property Maintenance;

“Marshall’s, what can i do for you?”

“Hi, i’m calling from Big G’s Sports Bar? We’ve just had the handrail fall off our fire escape. Wondering if you’ve got space to fix it this afternoon?”

There was a pause before you heard a long exhale of breath;

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

“Thanks Walter”

Hanging up you smiled. You’d worked with Walter when you’d been on the police force, you’d been a patrol cop that would assist with crime scene control and you’d been first on the scene for countless horrific acts of violence. One final call had given you PTSD so bad you’d resigned, finding a home in the small town of Blackwater Lake and a steady job at Big G’s Sports Bar. Your boss was the big quiet type, liked to spend more time out on his ranch with his horse, having enough trust in you to run the day to day operations of the bar as his assistant manager. 

-

It had been well past 9pm when Walter finished the repairs. Your boss had come in and helped him out when he’d got your text, leaving you in charge of the first few hours of opening. When the two men reappeared through the storeroom you smiled at them, getting ready for the evening handover before grabbing your coat and clocking off.

A few minutes later as you hopped off the last step of the fire escape onto the dandelion scattered gravel - your boss liked to let them grow - you smiled at Walter as he was loading his tools into his truck;

“Hey, thanks for today. Really saved our bacon… without the fire escape we wouldn’t be up to code so couldn’t have opened”

“S’ok. Glad you called” Walter admitted; “It’s been a while…”

Scuffing the gravel with your boot you swallowed the lump that was in your throat;

“How have you been? Since… ya know…”

“Alive. Wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t of been for you and your partner”

“We did what was needed… not every day you see va…” you stopped yourself, you still hadn’t completely come to terms with what you’d seen; “V...vagrants doing that… I’m just glad we got there in time…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Walter rounded the truck and stood in front of you;

“Do you need a ride home? Your boss mentioned that you walk to work and you stayed late where he was helping me get this fixed”

“Thanks, that’d be nice”

-

Over the next few nights Walter would appear at the bar early evening, usually under the pretense of checking the work on the fire escape or dropping off the bill to the office, and you quickly clocked that he would always be leaving just as your shift was ending to conveniently give you a ride home. Not that you minded, the weather had turned unseasonably cool after the warmth of the parade weekend, so the casual conversation as he drove you home in the warmth of his giant truck was a good way to end the day. 

As he rolled into the parking lot behind your apartment complex you wondered if you should invite him in for a coffee, but weren’t sure if you were reading his intentions correctly. Gnawing on your lip you reached into your pocket for your keys, smiling at Walter as he pulled the truck to a stop;

“There we go, home sweet home. Have a good night”

“You too Walter”

Stepping out you smiled and gave him a little wave, knowing he waited until you had gotten into your building.

-

Watching you go Walter cursed himself. When Rachel had left he’d been in the dumps even more than usual, but over the last few days he’d taken a shine to you. He was pretty sure you had clued onto the fact that he had always turned up around the time of your shift finishing, but when he’d found out from Geralt that your car had died and you couldn’t afford to repair it, he didn’t like the thought of you walking home alone. Sure Blackwater Lake was a sleepy little town, but keeping in mind what lurked in the woods - both natural and supernatural - he felt better knowing you’d gotten home. He had been sure you were going to invite him in for coffee tonight, but he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach and had blurted out a farewell before you’d had the chance.

Looking up at your apartment he let out a sigh. 

Then… then something caught his eye. You hadn’t been in the building long enough for the shadow to be you, knowing you stopped to grab your mail each time you entered the building. Killing the engine he reached to the glove compartment for his gun - he still had a concealed carry permit - and raced to the building.

-

Juggling your mail and your purse, you held the letters in your mouth as you searched for the right key on your set when suddenly the sound of thundering footsteps made you spin around, your jaw dropping when you saw Walter appear from the staircase and running to your side. His hand was on your arm and he was pulling you to the side of your door before holding you to his chest;

“There’s someone in your apartment”

“What? No, i locked everything before i left… and there’s no sign of any damage to the door…”

Letting you go he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled for the sheriff, but as you listened in you could hear the volunteer dispatcher explain that both the Sheriff and the two deputies were out on the highway dealing with an 18 wheeler logging truck that had spun off on a bend. Walter cursed under his breath and hung up;

“Do you still carry?”

“No… not since…”

“Ok. Unlock the door and stay behind me”

The next minute seemed to last both seconds and hours, following Walter through your apartment until he silently pushed the bedroom door open with his gun;

“Freeze!”

The shape in the darkness didn’t move, and when you peered over Walters extended arm and you realised what he was looking at, you let out a sigh and flipped the lightswitch, the ‘threat’ suddenly illuminated and Walters shoulders dropping;

“Oh…”

Your spare uniform shirt was hanging on the frame to the window where you’d hung it earlier in the day so the sunshine would dry it. You let out a deep breath and laughed, resting your forehead against Walters shoulder;

“It’s just my uniform…” you hadn’t realised your voice was shaking until Walter turned and wrapped his arms around you

“I’m sorry i scared you”

Burying your face in the warmth of his sweater, your voice was muffled as you spoke;

“Its ok. I’d rather you have seen the mess in my apartment and saved me from an intruder than the alternative…” you smiled weakly at him, and it was then that the tension in the room was like static before a storm. Like the first lightning strike, when Walters lips touched yours it was as if electricity coursed through your veins, the kiss hungry and needy, contact between two touch starved people needing that connection. Your fingers curled in threads of his knitwear, pulling yourself closer as his arms wrapped around you and his hands splayed out over your ass, squeezing handfuls of flesh so he could pull you flush against his body. The kiss deepend and his tongue sought entrance between your lips which you eagerly granted. He tasted of coffee and peanut butter chocolate, and when he pulled away you were both gasping for breath.

“So, vampires do need oxygen then?”

“How do you…? How are you not scared?”

“Because i was there when it happened. And I've seen you hundreds of times since. I’ve seen you in the mirror, I've seen you outside in the sunshine, i’ve literally served you garlic bread…” you paused; “And i didn’t need to invite you in. Whatever myths are linked to your condition, i know the Walter behind them, i know the quiet and controlled Walter that assesses a situation and ensures everyone is safe…” you paused; “Because I know i’m safe with you”

Walter opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat caught the words. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath as you gently held his face in your palms, your thumbs softly caressing the skin of his cheeks where his beard ended. You pressed your lips to his, and this kiss was different, this kiss was full of passion, of acceptance and the growing need that was blooming. 

Clothes were scattered as fingers and lips found each new patch of exposed skin, running your fingernails down his massive chest as you both fell to the bed, your fingers curling in the coarse hair that covered his chest before clutching at his belt as his teeth sharply ran over the line of your collarbone and you let out a gasp;

“More…”

“I… I’m not going to bite you…”

“I don’t want you to, but my neck is super sensitive, it's like my biggest turn on…”

At that moment Walter could feel the change, his eyes paling and his fangs growing more prominent as you watched from below him, but what he wasn’t expected was the groans that escaped your throat and the way your body shook;

“Did you just…?” he cocked an eyebrow, he already knew you’d just cum, but he wanted you to admit it.

“Yes, fuck yes, now i need more…”

With a growl he ducked his head down and peppered sharp kisses over your neck, hands working on each others jeans before you were able to kick them off. Your hands ducked into Walters pants and you grasped at his hard length, hot in your palm through his underwear;

“Oh fuck, you’re big…”

“Don’t worry, i’ll go slow… do you… do you have protection?”

“In the drawer”

He reluctantly pulled himself off the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he searched out the condoms, pulling the box out and swinging something else from his fingertips;

“These aren’t regulation edition”

The pink fluffy handcuffs had been a present a long time ago, and had somehow moved apartments with you;

“Next time…” you reached and grabbed them from him, tossing them aside before grabbing the box and a small foil packet, ripping it open with your teeth as Walter quickly shed himself of his boots and jeans, his dark boxers discarded as you reached for him and smoothed the latex over his fat dick.

He smoothed his hands down your legs, before tugging you down the bed and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up until your ass was in the air. The rough brush of his beard against your soft inner thighs was quickly soothed by his tongue swiping a firm lick through your soaked folds. He took hold of your hips and you felt him move into position, the firm nudge at your entrance before with a low groan he speared you with the slow stretch of his girth.

“You feel so fucking good… so tight…”

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets and your jaw hung open, the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your veins felt like an elixir as Walter hammered into your tight velvet channel. The carnal slap of flesh on flesh resonating around the room, only joined by the breathless pants escaping your lips and the grunts Walter would let slip as he sought pleasure in your body with his own. He splayed his fingers over your back, running the palm of his hand up your spine until he was able to cup your neck and pull you up, flush with his heated body. His sharp teeth scraped over your neck, his beard rough against the etched skin;

“Look in the mirror. See how amazing you look”

Focusing your attention on the dresser mirror that stood in the corner, you watched as Walter continued to slowly rock his hips, fucking you slow and hard from behind. But it was his eyes that drew your attention, icy pools of white with deep obsidian pupils piercing the tundra, and the flash of danger from his sharp teeth at your neck, just catching on the skin as he spoke;

“You’re so fucking beautiful, dunno what i did to deserve you… will you cum for me?” he slid his hand down your stomach and in the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, seeking out the sensitive pearl of your clit and rubbing the pad of his finger over it in firm circles; “Will you cum for me?” he repeated, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Yes… Walter, please…”

“What do you need…”

“My neck, please…”

Walter knew he couldn’t bite you, there were so many unknowns he’d never explored, but he closed his eyes and focused his energies on bringing you to completion. Thrusting his hips in time to the movement of his hand, whilst sucking a hickey onto your neck, knowing his teeth were rubbing against the skin but not breaking it. The triple stimuli sent you over the edge, your head rolling back onto his shoulder and your mouth open in a silent scream as you came so hard you saw stars, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as your walls gripped Walter tight, before with one final thrust you heard him growl as he came hard.

He held you for the longest time, your heart racing in your chest as echoes of your orgasm ricocheted through your body. As Walter started to soften you felt him hold the condom at the base of his shaft as he pulled out gently;

“Err… bathroom?”

“Just through there” you nodded to the door off of the bedroom as you fell to the bed, laying back with a smile on your face.

A few moments later he reappeared with a warm washcloth, first soothing your neck before tenderly attending to the mess between your thighs. After putting it back in the bathroom he appeared at the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans when you caught his wrist and pulled him onto the bed;

“You don’t need to go”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Look, unless you’re going to turn into a bat or something, you’re fine… we can talk, order some takeout…”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled to his chest as he smiled sleepily;

“That sounds good. Can i take you out on a proper date at some point?”

“That’d be nice. Though our options are slim in this town, its only Sue’s Coffee Shop or Big-G’s Bar… unless you want to get a take-out pizza and sit outside on the kerb”

“I’ll cook, come to my place? What are you doing Friday night?”

“I’m off, but…”

“But?”

You felt your cheeks flushing with heat;

“I’m due on by the end of the week…”

“Oh. OH…” You looked up at Walter and saw a flush over his cheeks and his blue eyes glinting with excitement and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh… you’re into that?”

“You’re… not? Because i just want to say, i would happily give oral to my girl on her period even pre-vamp status…now its just…”

“A snack?”

He let out a low belly laugh;

“Yeah, you could say that”

Curling up to Walter’s chest you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t experienced for a very long time, the conversation flowing easily and long into the night, before you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

[comfortwriting]

Privacy - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompt 48: He pressed his lips against yours, you kissed back and your hands tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt. 

Prompt 50: “shhh...” he whispered “be quiet, you don’t want your parents finding us”

Requested/About: The reader invites her boyfriend of over a year, Fred, to come over for dinner and to spend the night at her parents house as they are eager to meet him. Throughout his stay under her parents roof, Y/N and Fred become sexually frustrated due to their lack of intimacy; causing Fred to take matters into his own hands. 

Warnings: 18+! detailed smut, swearing, vulgar language, fingering, oral female receiving, penetrative sex, mention of food and eating. 

Y/D/N = your dads name, Y/M/N = your mums name (if like me, you have no parents, include whoever is your guardian or any names you like!)

Your dad finished up helping your mum cook dinner in the hazy kitchen, popping the trays into the oven and slamming the door shut before more air could escape into the already scorching room, you could tear the two of them giggling, chatting amongst themselves and dancing along to the radio.

Biting your lip and staring at your reflection in the mirror, you raised your tartan skirt, rolling it up so your upper thigh would get more notice, even if you were wearing sheer black tights underneath.

Dating Fred Weasley for over a year definitely has its perks - his family became your family, the burrow became your second home where you were welcome to stop by and stay over whenever you liked, Fred’s skiving Snack boxes helped you get out of things you didn’t want to do at work, and around the house, Fred is incredibly romantic, taking you out on the most fun dates around Diagon Alley, and your sex life... well, it’s nothing short of steamy or adventurous.

You could feel your heart flutter, the hairs standing up on the back of your neck, pacing around your bedroom you hurried over to your bed and straightened out the covers and brushing over the tiniest creases. You straightened your picture frames, you and Fred in fits of laughter in your hand-me-down robes and darted around the room doublechecking for the tiniest specks of dust.

“Y/N!” your mum called up, now standing at the bottom of the stairs “he’s walking up the driveway!”

Almost jumping out of your skin, you went back to the mirror and quickly fixed your hair one last time, checking how minty your breath was from the mouthwash and sprinted down the stairs, almost sliding down the last few steps.

Your dad walked out of the hazy kitchen and into the hallway, wrapping his arm around your mum's waist, chuckling at you going red in the face.

“Roll that skirt down!” Your dad called out, pointing at your tartan skirt.

“Oh leave her alone!” your mother defended you “she isn’t a kid anymore”

“you’d think she’s off to a concert dressed like that!”

“Please don’t embarrass me” you warned them quietly under your breath, your back facing the door, slowly and grudgingly pulling your skirt down by the smallest inch.

Y/D/N raised his eyebrows “You know we wouldn’t, but the rifle is under the stairs-”

Y/M/N slapped him playfully and tutted, scolding him “behave, will you!”

“Dad!”

Fred’s footsteps crumbled as he walked over the stones, standing in front of the door, and knocking three times.

You stood there and glared at your dad who kept nodding his head towards where he kept his rifle.

“Don’t you dare!” You hissed at him, starting to regret taking up your parents offer for this evening.

“Answer the bloody door then!”

You sighed and turned around, facing the large wooden front door, taking a deep breath, you opened it, coming face to face with the man of your dreams.

His windswept ginger hair made him look like he had fought against the wind whilst walking up the worlds steepest hill and his beautiful brown eyes twinkled as they poured into yours. His tartan jumper matching your skirt.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and brought them around the back of his neck, nuzzling your face into his warmth, the scent of fresh-baked bread and cinnamon engulfing you - making you wish you could apparate to the burrow without worrying your muggle parents.

“So you must be Fred Weasley” your father called out, letting go of your mother and walking towards Fred.

You and Fred pulled away from each other, you stood by his side, taking his bag and hanging it up on the peg beside the door next to your coat.

“Yes, sir” Fred replied, swallowing hard whilst trying to smile, holding out his hand.

Your father smiled and shook his hand “well, it’s lovely to meet you, Fred, I’m Y/D/N” he gestured over to your mother “and this is my wife, Y/M/N.”

After the slightly awkward, but better than expected introduction, Fred helped your father set the table and explaining the products he created and sells at his joke shop whilst you helped your mum plate up the food.

“He seems absolutely lovely!” your mum beamed, tipping more broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower onto the plates.

You smiled, picking up your plate and Fred’s “yeah, he’s amazing” you blushed ���I love him.”

Following your mother into the dining room, you set Fred’s plate down on the placemat and then the same with yours next to him, your mother set the other two plates down and went back into the kitchen to fetch out the gravy and seasonings.

“If you allowed me to do magic the table would have been set within seconds” you huffed, as Fred pulled out your chair.

“When you live in your own house” your father started, sitting down “you can do what you like, but under this roof, you’ll be a - what's the word?” your father looked over at Fred.

“Uh, Muggle,” Fred replied, staring at your arse.

You sat down, Fred pushing in your chair before getting sat down, your mother finally placing everything on the table and opening a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for herself and her husband.

“ah, yes, but under this roof you’ll be a muggle like me and your mother” Your father lifted up his wine glass, thanking his wife and took a sip.

“I’m muggle-born” you sighed, picking up your knife and fork.

“Let’s not dive into this topic yet again!” your mother interrupted cheerfully, pouring gravy over her chicken.

Your father put down his glass of wine, licking the residue away that sat his lips “Fred” he lifted up the wine bottle “would you like a glass?”

Fred shook his head, cutting into the chicken and stabbing it with his fork “no thank you, I’m fine with my water” he smiled, taking a bite of his food.

Dinner went well, and again, better than expected. Fred laughed at your fathers terrible and cringe jokes whilst you and your mother pulled sour faces and reminded him about table manners, but Fred encouraged him even more, winning his approval.

Whilst your parents got caught up in their own discussions when resting, or with empty plates, you and Fred exchanged cheeky glances, his eyes travelling up your skirt which you made sure to roll back up before sitting down. Your hand sneakily rested on Fred’s thigh, slowly moving closer and closer to his crotch, making him almost choke on his sweetcorn and bash his knee under the table as he jolted.

“You’re a bloody tease” Fred muttered under his breath, helping you wash up “doing that to me and giving me a semi under the table.”

You smirked and placed the last plate on the drying rack, turning around to face him as you leaned against the kitchen worktops, the tiny puddles of soapy water that jumped out of the almost-overflowing sink seeped into the back of your skirt.

“I was only saying hello” you grinned, as Fred dried his hands and stood in front of you, placing his hands at either side of you, trapping you underneath him.

“Fancy giving me a speech?” he smirked back, his voice low.

You bit your lip and blushed, Fred leaned down to kiss you, his tongue dragging over your lips for entrance, making you both feel excited. Granting him access, your tongue and Fred’s fought for dominance, one of his hands now running up your inner thigh.

“Do you two need a hand?” Your mum called out, walking over to the kitchen door and opening it.

You quickly pushed Fred away from you and pulled the soapy, gravy cup off the drying wrack, scooping up water from the sink and throwing it over Fred, drenching him before he had a moment to realise what was happening.

The kitchen door swung open, warm, soapy water covered the kitchen floor and Fred’s jumper, your mother stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. Fred stood against the fridge, rubbing his eyes, you were stood sharing glances with both your mum and Fred whilst you gripped onto the gravy cup.

“Y/N! What have you done to the floor?! and look at Fred, he’s drenched!”

“We got carried away” Fred covered for you “I’m sorry Y/M/N, we’ll get it cleaned up.”

Y/M/N smiled and your boyfriend, calming down, “Oh don’t be silly! you don’t need to clean this mess” she replied sweetly “get that jumper off, I’ll pop it on the maiden to dry.”

Fred pulled off his wet tartan jumper, the butterflies inside of you fluttering around at the sight of his muscles busting through his short-sleeved t-shirt, you clamped your legs together at the knee.

Fred passed his jumper to your mum “thank you” he said softly.

“Get this cleaned up” your mother ordered “come into the living room with us Fred, a really good film is meant to be coming on at any minute now.” she walked out of the kitchen.

Fred followed behind slowly, piercing you with his eyes, “you’re in for it” he whispered, shutting the kitchen door behind him.

Biting your lip and sighing, you could feel the butterflies in your crotch, making you squeeze your legs together even tighter, swearing under your breath you grabbed the cloths and started to clean up.

Sitting between your dad and Fred, your eyes were glued to your boyfriend’s veiny arms and hands, he kept tensing and bunching his hands into fists on purpose, knowing you were watching and couldn’t do a thing about it. All the while, Fred continued to risk glances up your tartan skirt, getting a peek of your lace red thong.

Fred could feel his cock harden in his trousers, he shifted on the sofa and blocked his hard-on from view with his hands, noticing Fred hiding away, you also shuffled on the sofa which pulled back your skirt, exposing more of your inner thighs and your thong.

His eyes travelled up your legs with desperation and his breathing went got heavier, his cock getting even harder, his large length becoming harder to hide and painful to ignore, you smirked at him and focused on the television, not understanding the movie your parents were so hooked on.

“I think I’m going to call it a night” Fred announced quickly, almost stumbling over his words, standing up and retrieving his no longer wet but now damp jumper, which he used to cover up his hard-on.

“Yeah, me too” you forced a yawn, stretching out before standing up next to Fred and linking arms with him.

“Are you sure?” your dad protested “the film is nearly over”

Fred could feel his cock pulsate, he squeezed onto his jumper in frustration “I’m sure, too much telly can make us Wizards feel a bit dizzy” he lied, walking over to the door.

“Oh gosh!” your mum panicked, trying to get out of her seat, almost knocking over her wine glass “will you be alright-”

“I’ll look after him, he’ll be fine” you replied, pushing Fred through the door and out into the hallway “goodnight!”

Unlinking arms with Fred, you giggled and bolted up the stairs, Fred chasing after you and breaking into your bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, Fred threw his jumper onto your bed and leant against the door, his eyes staring you down as he walked over to you, backing you up against your study desk.

“I told you, you’re in for it” he growled.

Lifting you up and sitting you down on the desk, Fred spread your legs open with his hands, the veins in them bulging as he stood between them. He pressed his lips against yours, you kissed back and your hands tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt. Fred smirked against your lips and pulled off his t-shirt, giving you an eyeful of his muscles, his big, hard cock poking through his trousers.

Breaking away from the kiss, leaving your lips red and coated in his saliva, Fred started to undo his trousers and dropped them to the floor, standing out of them he kicked them across the floor, leaving him in his boxers and you still fully dressed. Fred sucked on his index and middle finger, spitting down them as he approached your wet cunt, his two wet fingers now sliding underneath your thong and brushing against your sensitive and swollen clit.

You gasped out and let a little airy moan spill from your lips, causing Fred to smirk and bite his lip, hooking your thong with his fingers as he dragged them down your legs and throwing them beside his trousers. Fred’s two fingers lined up against your tight hole and pushed inside of you, your cunt engulfing him in warmth and your walls tightening around his fingers.

His long fingers pumped inside and out of you, slow at first and then picking up in speed as you got used to him, you pulled off your top and dropped it on the floor, your breasts desperate to be let free from your matching lace, red bra. Your quiet moans and facial expressions encouraged Fred to pull down his boxers with his free hand and take hold of his hard cock at the base of his shaft, as he started to pump his cock, the built-up precum spilling out onto the head.

Fred licked his soft lips and dived down in between your legs and under your skirt, continuing to finger fuck you, Fred stuck out his tongue and swirled it around your clit in circular motions, sucking on it every now and then before licking in a different direction - this time slowly dragging his tongue up and down as you came undone.

The feeling of his fingers stretching you out as he added a third finger and his tongue exploring you sent waves of pleasure down your spine and expanded throughout your insides, your moans continued to spill from your delicate, kiss hungry lips, louder and louder.

Fred groaned against your pussy, the vibrations from his voice pushing you closer to the edge.

“Freddie!” You yelped out in pleasure, lolling your head back and scrunching your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of his long fingers and wet tongue.

Fred pulled away and stopped eating your cunt, causing you to open your eyes and look down at his head and eyes peeking up from under your tartan skirt which you wanted nothing more than to rip off.

“Shhh...” he whispered “be quiet, you don’t want your parents finding us”

“mph” you moaned softly “but I want you so bad, Freddie, we can put a silencing charm on the-”

Fred withdrew his fingers, making you feel empty and sucked your juices off his fingers, he stood up and lifted you in his arms, walking you over to the bed, laying you down gently, climbing on top of you.

“You know we’re not allowed to do magic under this roof, sweetheart” Fred reminded you, his voice low and deep, his soft lips peppering your neck with kisses whilst his hands sneaked around your back, unclipping your bra.

“I promise I’ll be quiet” you whispered, looking over to the door as Fred pulled off your bra, your hands now pulling down your skirt, Fred dragging it down your legs and tossing it on the floor.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep” Fred smirked, continuing to touch himself over the sight of your wet cunt.

You pulled out a condom you hid under your pillow earlier in the day, handing it to Fred so he could put it on as you grabbed the lube. Fred rolled the condom over his large length, squeezing away the bubble at the tip of his cock.

You squeezed out the lube into the palm of your hand and across your four fingers, spreading it all over Fred’s length as you took him in your hand, toying with him gently before you pulled your hand away and spread the excess lube across your entrance, fingering yourself teasingly, watching your boyfriend thirst for you.

Fred got on his knees and beckoned you over to him with his two fingers, you crawled over to him as he held onto your waist as you sat down slowly on his large length, your mouth forming an O shape, moans escaping your lips and his. Fred spread his knees apart and slowly placed both of your legs on his shoulders, so the back of your thighs were against his chest, his hard cock pushing deeper inside of you - his hands holding you over your ribs just above your waist.

“I’m so fucking deep inside you” he groaned, his cock brushing against your G-Spot.

You nodded and moaned out as he started to buck his hips and bounce up and down on your bed, “I can feel you in my tummy, Freddie.”

“Good, that’s my baby girl.” he grunted.

Continuing to bounce and buck his hips, Fred’s cock slid deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting your G-Spot over and over, your quiet moans flowing from your mouth like water from the kitchen tap. Your ample breasts bouncing up and down, your hair tousled like Fred’s, the veins in his body looking like bolts of lightning.

The very sight of him edged you closer and closer to reaching the beginning of your climax, your walls continuing to tighten around Fred’s pulsating cock, squeezing him whilst he stretched you out, your lower abdomen starting to tense up.

“The sight of you makes me want to cum” Fred grunted again, beads of sweat across his forehead and chest glistened in the moonlight that pierced through your bedroom window.

Your cheeks were red and hot, your legs rattling on his shoulders, your toes curling, your head lolling back, exposing your soft neck.

“I’m getting close” you breathed out softly, biting down on your lip to restrict your moans from becoming too loud, hearing footsteps pass outside your door.

Fred stopped for a moment, waiting for your parent's footsteps to die down as they went to bed, you whined at your orgasm slowly drift away from you, until as soon as your parent’s bedroom door closed, Fred, started to pound you, fast, deep, and hard.

“Fucking cum for me, Y/N” Fred panted “I can feel myself getting close too.”

The sound of Fred slamming into you filled your bedroom, his groans and your moans pushing one another closer and closer to the edge, your walls clamping around Fred’s cock so unbelievably tight causing him to twitch inside of you - his fingernails digging into your sides whilst you left scratches down his strong arms.

The pressure building up and suddenly bursting, Fred’s name escaping your mouth quite loudly as your cum gushed down his length, Fred’s sperm shot into the tip of the condom as he thrust himself deep inside of you, his cum pooling slowly into a puddle.

Both of your chests elevating and deflating with mismatched panting and gasping for breath, Fred slowly helped you get your legs off his shoulders and slowly pulled out, laying you down against the cool bedsheets before taking off and binning his filled condom.

Laying down next to you, both of you drenched in sweat, feeling as if you had completed a marathon, he reached out for your shaky hand, holding it in his as he planted a kiss against it.

“I think it’s funny that” Fred spoke out slowly, catching his breath “it’s easier for us to have sex at mine when the home is full of family, and friends”

You broke out into a light laugh and shook your head “yeah” you replied, breathless, “muggle parents are cock blocks”

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @lucymfer @freddiemylovelg @xmalfoyweasleyx @escapingrealitybyreading 

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hot Chocolate (Birthday/Christmas Special)

Summary: Levi is bound to spend this birthday on his own, seeing that you're halfway across the globe as an exchange uni student. What he doesn't know though is that you have planned a huge surprise for him. NSFW 18+

Notes: sorry for any mistake you guyss please enjoy this

Pairing: Levi/ Reader 

Tags: f l uff, nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, the sexies

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, I simply found it on Pinterest.

White heavy cream fell fluidly out of the carton it was stored, squeezed by Levi's calloused hand and into the small metallic pot that he rested his other hand onto. The mixture, an aromatic, dark brown hot chocolate, lightened in color upon a few stirs of his tool. Slowly with his hand he disposed of the empty carton in the recycling bin, making sure to wipe any stray droplet of white on the counter.

He blinked as his mind went blank, forgetting the next step of the recipe but only momentarily. His thoughts once again traveled to what troubled him, but he continued with his stirring in fear of burning the beverage he was set on making. With his teeth sinking dangerously at the tip of his tongue what he needed clicked in his head. Corn flour. A quorter of a cup.

He didn't bother tasting the mixture as he lowered the fire of the stove to the minimum, he simply marched to the corner built in cupboard, hands searching furiously for the porcelain vase that held this oh so precious corn flour that would act as the stabilizing factor to his hot chocolate beverage.

Seconds later he brought the fire to an halt absurdly, never ceasing with his stirring careful as to not have the mixture stick to the pot. He didn't like his chocolate adorned with burnt flakes or the taste they brought to his mouth neither did he like cleaning the burnt pot before having to pop it in the washing machine. As his hands reached for the cups he had set beside the stove beforehand to his alchemy, he helped the thick mixture in with a spoon.

The cups were immediately transfered inside the over; an attempt to keep them from any predatory fly that could have entered the apartment before Levi had a chance to realise and in addition keeping them sheltered as they reached a drinkable temperature. Levi threw the pot into the sink next, sighing to himself as he grabbed his thick latex gloves and out them on his hands. With a twist of his hand at the handle the watered started running on his gloves hands pot making him grab his steel wool.

His hand came to his forehead, wiping some sweat as he sighed again, hanging his head low as he gritted his teeth in frustration. His eyes squinted in anger, his hands dug into the inox of his sink and his heart sink dangerously low as he felt the room run cold due to the sun quickly setting behind the horizon.

Why had he made that chocolate, it beat him. The two of you hadn't spoken in at least two days and he liked -or rather chose- to blame it on your busy studying schedule, rather than the fight the two of you had over that call two nights ago. He had been to angry to admit he was acting like a brat to you, he had been too proud to simply say that he wanted your attention, instead he had resolved his anger into grumpiness, causing your overworked mind to snap.

You were gone as an exchange student in Japan for too long and both your busy schedules and the enormous time difference had dug their ways into Levi's life very negatively. Before you he had never lonely when he was alone, but now, now that he had gotten a taste of what it was to be with you, now that you had been ripped away from him from so long, he definitely felt lonely. And angry. And it killed him that he was almost on time for your arranged video chat, when you didn't even show any sign of being in existence still.

It made his boil though, by now, it must have been the 26th in Japan and you had spent your day ignoring him, not even bothering to open his message. Had he been so cruel to you while admitting he wanted you here with him? Was it that you didn't have enough decency to let him you know you were alright? That was what he simply wanted to know, in the end.

Sighing again he ripped the gloves off his hands and grabbed his phone. His fingertip touching the button provided him immediate access to his homescreen and he quickly entered Instagram dragging the homepage down a couple of times to let it load any new activity. Internally he knew, he would have been glad if he was to see a story or a post by you, any sign that you were alright would do for him.

Of course, as if on cue to shake him of his miserable thoughts his phone rang, buzzing in his palm. His eyes fell on the small window the revealed the caller id to him. It was Erwin, naturally, as he always used to shower him with phone calls on his birthday even up until the moment he was at his front door. Levi didn't missed out on those signs of affection, it's was quite the opposite really. He cherished them deeply. Seeing how much of an impact he had on his friends' lives moved him whether he showed it or not.

And so, while holding back his saddened sigh he picked up the phone, greeting his friend through greeted teeth.

"Hey Levi, uhm, I kind of need you at the moment, am I interrupting anything?"

"No," Levi spoke, biting painfully on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold himself back from sprinting out on his frustration. Of course Erwin could try and hide behind his finger, Levi knew that much. The blond was aware he wasn't interrupting anything, but he was still kind enough to ask; he always was sappily kind when it came to such sensitive subjects.

"Great look, I'm on route twenty two, fifth exit, I'm out of gas can you please come to my rescue and bring me some?" Erwin paused for a moment and then proceeded to mumble through an overly amused breath "I'm sorry I'm doing this to you tonight."

"Did you take your father's run down car again?" Levi questioned.

"No... yes. I'm sorry Levi I felt like I wanted to drive his car tonight. I shouldn't have to drag you here too, I'm sorry."

"No it's fine," Levi bit back, hissing at Erwin's unhealthy habit of wanting to drive his father's antique due to its sentimental worth. But then again, he reminded himself he wasn't in a place to judge. "Give me 15 and I'll be there."

Fidgeting his fingers on the counter without throwing a second look he came in contact with his car keys. The familiar jiggling sound gritted through the air proudly as Levi pierced his finger inside the key loop, finally pressing the keys steady to his palm. With another grunt, he hang up the phone, bringing the device to the palm of his hand once again.

His mind begged him to open his texts with you again -his initial goal ever since the moment he opened his phone- just to stare at the screen or at his unopened text, his insides begged to boil with concern at the process but he figured had all night to do so, prolonging his misery could definitely wait now that Erwin was in need. And thus he simply marched to the hanger behind his front door, eager much to quickly get a hold of his warmest jacket before having to step out in the cold apartment corridor and consequentially outside in the cold December weather.

___

You forced Hange to suppress her giggles as you slipped the metallic key inside the lock to your shared apartment with Levi. With an exaggerated jump though Hange let out another scream fill the air, ignoring yet another playful rasped gaze you consequentially threw her. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as you kept on locking eyes, amused by the upcoming execution of your plan.

The plan was simple really. You had Erwin call Levi for any emergency he could come up with and only when he left the house you and Hange would sneak in, light up the aromatic candles you spent weeks picking. You would make some hot buttered rum and light the fireplace to warm up the house. Then, Hange would leave right when Erwin would call you to announce that Levi was on his way back and you'd wait for him with the biggest smile on your face.

"Okay now let's see how much time we have." You said and rubbed your hands together to warm them up. Leaning with one hand over the wall you moved the heel of your left foot on top of your right one, pressing down enough so you could wiggle your foot out of the shoe. Doing the same for your other foot, you removed your jacket and hung it behind the door.

"Erwin said it will take Levi about twenty minutes to get to him, they shall spend about ten to fifteen minutes fueling his car, but he promised he'd try his best to delay Levi if we need to. And then add another ten minutes for him to get back." Hange spoke, fixing her glasses onto her nose.

"You think I have enough time to take a bath?"

Making sure to slip her shoes off after you, Hange nodded in your direction and proceeded to set her heavy backpack on the couch. One by one she took the candles and a lighter out, eventually smirking to herself as she tried to come up with a plan on how to neatly set them around the living room.

"Hange!" Can you put those in the bedroom?" You spoke, ripping your shirt off of you before your finger came to graze the side of your mouth as your mind sunk in your thoughts.

"Ha!" Hange huffed "as if you're even going to make it to the bedroom!"

Your cheeks burned as she spoke, eyes widening slightly at how your mind told you she was completely right. Of course you and Levi wouldn't make it to the bedroom at least until later tonight. It had been months since you had last seen him and it was his birthday, you wouldn't even be able to rip yourself off of his arms. Thus you simply threw a mellow smile at Hange as you sprint to the kitchen checking to see if you had all the ingredients you'd need to make your choice of drink.

Coincidentally, you opened the oven and your eyes immediately fell on what was inside. Your expression softened as two grey toned cups shone in your orbs, the smell they emitted deliciously filling your nostrils. You smiled to your self as you thought about how your lover didn't miss out on making your traditional Christmas drink.

It was unbelievable how kind hearted Levi was, in contrary to what people thought of him, you thought. Most of the times -and simply because he didn't allow otherwise- the only thing people who weren't close to him saw was a cold demeanor, a sharp tongue and a foul mouth. It all would be too ironic if they knew how Levi was behind closed doors. Taking notice of small everyday details, sticking to his beloved routine, cherishing moments with his loved ones, remembering everything most people would ignore about others and showing his love in the sweetest yet most Levi way were only a few of his virtues.

Of course he wouldn't miss on making your favorite strawberry scented thick hot chocolate, even if you had spent the last few days not speaking to him, even if as of now he remained ignorant as to why. You assumed he believe it was about that ridiculous fight and you could admit you purposefully riled him just enough for him not to expect to see you. You were sure, seeing he had shown a previous liking in surprises like this, that his jaw would hit the floor when he'd see you.

Guilt rushed through you at the thought of you making him feel miserable even in the slightest, but Hange couldn't just have you standing there, sulking in your anxiety over how things had led up to this moment. If you wanted to make it in time for when Levi came home you'd have to rush. Hange insisted on shooing you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, urging you to act fast, before Levi came. Sensing she was right, you settled for running to retrieve a new pair of underwear and a clean towel before jumping in the shower.

Stretching your arms to close the curtain behind you as you stepped on the white marble tiles you twisted the faucet handle to the right, letting a deep sigh escape from the depths of your chest as the hot water started running.

___

The sound of keys jiggling together filled what should have been an empty apartment, making Levi's arrival known only to you who stood inside the kitchen. He stepped inside a few seconds later, ripping his shoes off of his feet before slipping into his fuzzy slippers.

His hands immediately reached for the wipes and rubbing alcohol he kept on a stand right next to the door, silently grabbing a wipe and coating it in the strong smelling disinfectant before bringing it to his phone and keys. He spent a good minute cleaning the items meticulously only stopping when he felt satisfied to set them on the stand. He took a step to turn around with his goal to walk to the kitchen and heat up his got chocolate. Judging by the time he could still try to reach out to you before the day ended.

With a quick glance around the room, though he found himself freezing in his spot.

"Great, now I'm so shit mad I'm seeing fucking things." Levi announced -seemingly only to his own self- the moment he laid his gray orbs upon you.

"No Levi, you're not seeing things baby."

Standing up for your seat on the kitchen table you shot him an adorning look; your eyes squinted and your cheeks puffed up, coated in a sheer scarlett color. You silently watched as his eyes grew impossibly wide, flickering between you and each lit candle that showered the room in plenty of romantic golden light.

His legs were slightly trembling, his knees going weak at the sudden need to intake all of what was unraveling before him, but with his heart hammering in his whole body he only managed to part his lips before even beginning to thing if what to utter.

"Merry Christmas and happy birthday my Vee." You smiled again, mouthing the tooth rotting sweet nickname as you walked to him with open arms and a longing look on your face.

He wasted no time, even if his head was starting to buzz in confusion and uncertainty, he bucked in his stand before sprinting towards you. His hands quickly wrapped under your bum, lifting you up on him while prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. With painfully squinted eyes his nose nuzzled up between your neck and your chest, inhaling your magnetising aura sharply as he span you around. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, embracing his head in a loving manner as you couldn't supress your bubbling giggles.

His strong grip on you wasn't ceasing, not even for a moment as he began mouthing his questions; he didn't even care that his voice was muffled by your own form.

"How- I mean when?" He spoke and only hugged you tigher onto him.

"Well, you thought I'd ever miss this day?" You placed a kiss on the top of his hairline. "I was supposed to be here days ago but my flight got delayed, so Erwin and and Hange came up with this surprise plan."

Levi's hands loosened their grip on you slowly was you tried to slide down his body carefully; this breathtaking moment could only ever last for so long, Levi figured as he set you down. Kissing you was the next task he assigned to himself, but it could only happen after he got a good look at your face.

God, he had missed you so much.

So many months had passed since the last time he had been graced with seeing you this close to him and in the moment what he was witnessing almost felt too unreal. Your tender eyes looked into his with adoration and warmth, your chest dwelled with tainted breaths as your hands slowly came to cup his sharp face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't responding at all, I really had to leave to go to the airport after that silly fight we had, I couldn't just tell you I was coming." You said and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Although I was really temped to."

Levi wrapped his arms around you again and hugged you to his chest- this time he missed on levitating you if the ground, even more fiercely than he had done before. He simply huffed in amusement in the crook of your neck, mouthing a sole 'thank you' against you.

The next kiss you shared was maniac and passionate in nature. His lips didn't just graze over yours, the engulfed them. He sucked onto your tender flesh as if his life depended on it and you couldn't get enough. You found yourself grabbing his shirt, then running your hands through the short spiky hair of his undercut.

His slick hands cupped your own face as he pulled back only to catch his breath for a moment.

"I've missed you much I can't even be patient to talk with you."

"Me too" you announced, a hazed look masking your face.

You took a few leading steps to the couch, careful not to disturb the candles in the corners of the coffee table that before it, much afraid of setting everything on fire in your despairate state to have him. Your mouth launched feverishly onto his as you threw him onto the gray sofa.

Levi didn't fight it, not even for a moment. His tongue shoved inside your mouth, rolling around yours, slurping and cherishing each corner of your mouth as he took small intakes of breath through his nose from time to time. His tender hands loosened their grip on the sides of your face, the action eliciting a small whine from your occupied mouth but to was quickly gulped down by the movement of his lips that came to suck on your tongue.

You felt his fingertips travel down your clothed body, skillfully sinking underneath your shirt before restlessly traveling back up taking the cloth away with them. You only broke away from each other for a singular moment, breaths hitching and tinting the air around you, so much that you could almost ignore the way your heart sped it's throbbing in your ears. His hips bucked longingly int you from underneath, the friction already driving you crazy.

As his hands shoved longingly inside your pants you let another moan slip from the depths of your throat, though it was guickly muffled by your lover's mouth attaching on yours , making you melt into him. You felt his fingers graze ever so slightly over your still clothed crotch, painfully flicking their way through your flesh.

Roughly, he pulled back, detaching his want body away from yours while fixing his gray eyes into you. He didn't bother speaking as he tagged at the sides of his shirt, ripping the article of clothing away from him in such quick movements, as if it was the only thing getting in his way from getting close to you.

With hanger widening his eyes he stared at you again, prompting you to put your hands into him, to feel him all the while he run his hands into your form. He failed in exploring your body as he had wished though, with a shagged breath he only managed to bring you close, in a proximity that didn't even allow a kiss to be exchanged. You simply nuzzled into the crook of his bare neck, rubbing the tip of your nose in calm circles against him as you breathed hot huffs of air onto his skin.

His back was still so muscular and ripped despite his skin being so overly smooth under your tender touch, the more small trails you rubbed over him the more he sighed in greed and over exaggerated longing. Licking his lips with a constipated look on his face, he placed a tender kiss on your collarbone before traveling back up, just to teasingly rub his bottom lip over yours.

Breaking the kiss you grabbed his hand, bringing his palm close you your face. You teasingly picked his pointer finger, making sure to scratch the inside of his hand with your nails as you brought the digit to your mouth. His mouth, running ahead of his own desire to stay quiet, blurted lewd moans at your soft suckling and with all blood boiling in his body he was unable to even think about chocking down on his sounds.

He was on his back before he even knew it. It seemed like squirming was the way to go now, right underneath you as you placed kisses all over his chest and torso. With slow hands you reached for his pants, fidgeting with his zipper and buttons before wiggling your arms inside the dark denim.

Quickly, any remaining article of clothing was discharged thrown anywhere on the floor; you could worry about that later but right now you couldn't seem to be able to pay attention on anything else than each other. You had missed him, he had missed you, there was only so much that the two of you could process momentarily.

It was the high of the moment mixed with your scent that pulled him even even more as you craddled him to your chest while never ceasing the bobbing of your hips. The kisses that he sucked in you, sped up the beating of your heart against his as soft skin mingled with your own. Even that was painful to him, the extend to which he had missed you didn't leave any space for him to pull just an inch away from you, as if he wouldn't ever be able to get enough.

"My Levi, I've missed you so much." You spoke with hitched breaths, lips grazing his earlobe ever so slightly.

Levi allowed him self to eventually grunt in response letting harsh huffs of air through his nostrils while trying to guide your hips to an alt.

"Keep talking like that and I'm not going to last." He spoke, his fingering digging into your thighs to put an halt to your movements.

It didn't work -he should have known it wouldn't work- because you only slid down on him longingly and fast, sending his mind in the familiar pre orgasmic haze he so wished to momentarily be freed from.

"Who said," you paused only for another tainted moan to slip outside your lips "I want you to last?" You placed a kiss on the skin behind his ear, careful not to suck and create any loud noise that close to his eardrum.

Levi only threw his head back, his hips starting to work onto a hard, quick rhythm against you. He trembled under your words and every deep thrust, every feel of your insides on his throbbing length was only contributing to the build up in his abdomen.

He hair, sweaty as it was, stuck on his forehead as it dripped, but you paid no mind in his salty taste as you kissed your way all over his forehead and cheeks, nose and jawline, trailing your tongue on any sharp edge of him.

Your legs were shaking now and much to your best wishes you struggled with your thrusting onto him. You only managed to gyrate your hips, earning another moan of him as you ceased your movements, sweat dripping off of your own forehead as if mimicking his antics.

His hands nearly slipped from your thighs as wet as they were but he managed to get the message you were trying to convey; with jaded breaths he started thrusting maniacally from underneath you, damaging through you as pleasure dueled in both your bodies.

Yearning splashed all over his face and his grunts only got louder. Your foreheads collided as you cupped his face, noses nuzzling up, eyes staring deep into eachother.

Gentle. His ultimate indulge into you was gentle and earth shattering at the same time. His veins popped in white hot pleasure and his chest boiled with numerous erotic moans as his abdomen screamed throughout him, leaving him with barely enough time to mechanically reach just to pull out. His head hung low onto your collarbone while his head throbbed, unable to come down from his high just yet. He couldn't even move his eyes to see you, although he knew by listening to your panted breaths that you were in the same position as him.

Pushing him back to lay down on the couch, you kissed all over his face for the thousandth time tonight.

"I'd never ever miss this important day, you know." You smiled, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose.

"It's not that special, brat" he spoke shyly as he cooed into your face rubbing his upper lip to your cheek. You recognised the action; it was a habit of his to coo in such way, any overly soft thing grazing his top lip indulged him in endless calmness and you hummed to yourself in amusement to the feeling.

"I missed you."

"I know. You said that." He huffed, his lips puckering to hide the playful demeanor behind his next words. "But I don't think I heard it right, mind repeating it?" His fingers trapped your nose between them and swayed your head from side to side before moving to your naked back to press you closer to him him once again.

"You're such a tease. I love you Levi."

"I love you too," He blurred with eyes that burned into yours and proceeded to place a sweet kiss onto your sweat drenched hair "so much, you brat."

Taglist go off: @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise

[funtimebunnyblog]

I'M BACK!!! 🥰😍❤ Did you all miss me? I'm happy to say that I've finally gotten some WiFi where I'm currently living and updates are gonna try to be more steady here in the future but I can't make any promises because I get very busy with my work 😅😇 Please continue to bear with me!

In other words, a while back I wrote the OG version of this little short fic on A03 but I realized that I had never posted it here! 😱 Nevertheless, I decided to write the Part 2 to this and then decided to remaster that first part before posting it here! 🙂🙂🙂 I'm thinking about turning this into a little mini series 🤔🥰

Anyways, I'll stop rambling! Please enjoy! 😚

Pillarroomates (Chapter 1: Roommate wanted)

(This is dedicated to Dagdoth and Sureynot; 2 of the best bad influences I could ever ask for 🥰😍❤)

The steady click-clacking of keys filled the pleasant silence of the little kitchen, Kars typing away on the laptop before him at the table.

It was just a little after noon, a time where he usually put down his work for a brief session to sit back in silence and enjoy a cup of coffee, or maybe a mug of tea depending on his mood, with whatever baked-good had been whipped up recently. Today however, he chose to cut his little break out of schedule completely to get a jump on the deadline of the month that he was currently picking away at.

Hunched over, eyes glued to the screen, one could've swore he was a living statue perched like that so quietly if it weren't for his typing fingers.

The sweet smell hanging in the air came much closer as Wamuu strode over to the table, a soft smile was painted across the mans lips as he placed an oven fresh cookie on a plate down next to the mug of black tea his Master was letting steep at his side.

"Thank you, Wamuu." Kars said quietly, watching the blonde depart in his peripheral vision for only a beat before regaining his sharp focus on the sea of numbers staring back at him.

Kars had his own room with a desk to work in of course but he always found himself enjoying doing work down here this time of day. The heavenly smell of the kitchen when something was being baked and the pleasant background noise of the radio chiming softly, sometimes accompanied by Wamuu humming along, was something sort of relaxing to Kars.

Relaxing around here tended to be something rare too, as there never seemed to be a dull moment in the lives of the Pillarmen these days.

Not in this neighbourhood, no.

The younger man hummed in response, heading back to the stove to finish scraping fresh cookies off the pan to place on a rack to cool. He was sure Santana would make an appearance soon to try one, with the lovely smell filling the air and all.

Santana could never stay asleep (as heavy of a sleeper as he had the tendency to be) holed up in his room when there was something yummy being cooked.

The times where he appeared the quickest was when Kars flicked on the coffee machine first thing in the morning, the red-head manifesting at his side at the very first spew of hot caffeine never failed to nearly give him a heartattack; especially when it was 5 in the morning in a dark kitchen.

Kars' head lifted, cocking an eyebrow as there suddenly came a knock at the front door; three evenly spaced thumps on the wood. The thought of another complaining neighbour was the first thing to cross his mind, making him sigh as he moved to get up from his chair.

"PIZZA'S HERE!!!"

The sounds of heavy footfalls coming at a rapid speed from down the hallway accompanying the cry stopped him in his tracks.

The plum-haired man grimaced, Wamuu glancing over his shoulder with a frown, as none-other-than Esidisi sped by; the one hand clutching the towel around his waist was the only thing keeping it from blowing away completely.

Despite only catching a glimpse of his speedy companion, Kars didn't miss the fact that the other was sopping wet and trailing water.

Esidisi had simply lept out of the shower the second he heard the knock at the door, leaving with only a towel (just barely even) and the foamy suds that were still clinging to his hair and his body.

No doubt about it, he was dripping all over the place.

And all over his clean floor too.

Kars clicked his tongue, more than tempted to sigh again.

"Really, Esidisi?" He called out to the other.

It was hard to tell whether he was more displeased with his state of soapy undress or the fact that the oldest Pillarmen had gone and ordered yet ANOTHER pizza this week with only God-knows-what on it.

Sure, he the others found themselves actually partaking in "Human food" casually these days. Wamuu even went so far as to teach himself how to cook as a hobby to fill time around the house when he wasn't going to the Gym or to work, but Esidisi had become something of a strange enthusiast on the matter.

Some people in this world got a little riled up over something as simple as Pinapple being added as a topping on a pizza but Kars had a feeling those people would have an absolute fit listening to Esidisi's phone order of a multi-fruit pizza (consisting of: oranges, apples, watermelon and strawberries) with cheese, olives and pepperoni.

He was starting to wonder if his longtime companion was simply doing it just to see how far he could push a Pizza place with his barrage of odd orders until they yelled at him or worse, barred him completely from the place.

His question was only met with laughter. "I decided to ask for Mac and Cheese and Jalapeños on it this time!" Esidisi called back, voice echoing off the walls, as he finally reached the front door.

Wamuu's nose crinkled at the very sound of that, choosing wisely to direct his attention to his cookies once more.

Kars decided to follow suit and do the same with his own work.

He supposed it wasn't really his problem, therefore; he shouldn't say anything.

☆☆☆

The advertisment had been a strange one for sure, but really, you had no choice but to at least look into it. It never hurt to try and you were already desperate enough as it was.

Apartments and open housing in the area was becoming a rarity at best these days, this busy time of year didn't help things either, and you had been scouring the internet for every opportunity or opening there was to move in with someone in this portion of the city.

Sadly, you had turned up empty handed quite a few times.

The last one you had looked into had been great; a nice building, nice seeming people, decent budget; but alas, the people who put out the advert took it down just a day later.

They had decided to give the opening to a close friend of theirs who wanted to come across the country and live with them instead.

You had been starting to consider checking the complete other side of the city and trying to squeeze yourself in somewhere there or maybe even just going with the option of moving cities completely! The hassle of finding a place was just becoming too much until... this one happened to pop up.

☆ Roomate requSWIGGITY SWOOMATE, WE NEED A ROOMATE!!11!!!1!

We are Four Men seeking out a Human roomate to live with us in our rented house.

4 bedroom, 1 bath, 1 kitchen; upstairs, downstairs and basement.

Location: Western side of the city, 929 Bizzare av.

Rent and chores are divided equally among us.

Requirements as followed:

• Must be a CLEAN Human.

• Human must not bear the surname of "Joestar" under ANY means necessary.

•Must be actively working and have claims to have the ability to hold their job.

• Must be willing to contribute to the household via chores and yard work when necessary.

• must be CUTE!!!

• Mus

•

• Must like llf6io78fjjl0

•

• Jo9sjw6jnsjej27ebeolu

• Jsjsij wkk d18kkjs lkdjsjsns52jsjjsnend2njsmdv 6272jsndbdhs2672 jd Djjsija bsij eeskdnne9s782728 jd bjejrn rnusjjsj

• the human must not be loud

• It would be most appreciated if the Human was a mannered person, who holds appreciation for similar hobbies we do. -W

•

Ask within to apply! ☆

You couldn't help but wonder if whoever had written this advert had been drunk at the time by looking at the grabbed mess that took up half the page.

Better yet, you could only hope this was a real advertisement and not some sort of stupid prank.

Either way, you were determined to find out today and claim this oppertunity before anyone else got the chance.

Glancing down at the print out you had made of the ad at the Library, you sighed as you kept going down the street. You had been walking all morning and were beginning to wish you had the foresight to pack a snack or a drink for your seemingly endless sojourn for this supposed place.

There was no picture put onto the advertisement, even a proper description of the place would've been nice, and finding a direct address wasn't exactly a piece of cake to you.

Nonetheless, you kept going. Stopping at every house you passed in hopes to spot a matching address; finding nothing but different numbers and barking dogs tethered in yards.

With every different number meeting your eyes, the possibility of this just being a fake ad just kept growing and growing in your mind.

You were even starting to consider just giving up entirely when, at last, there it was. "292" the numbers were bolted to the front porch, the 9 starting to tilt to one side.

It seemed nice enough. The lawn was well kept, the walkway however looked as if it needed to be redone. The building was a sunbleached blue, probably a nice clean periwinkle once upon a time, but now leaning a tad white and staring to flake. The place was definitely in need of a touch up.

This was the place, now if someone was Home to even just talk to you about this ad that would be great.

You gathered up the courage to leave the sidewalk and start up the overgrown walkway, the wood of the porch whined under your feet as you stepped onto it. A couple of chairs, a book carelessly left behind in one, a little cage sat all by its lonesome in the far corner, and a big unmissable stain (probably coffee) caught your eye on the wood.

The word "Pillarmen" was scrawled on the name card over the mail slot of the front door.

A strange surname, you had never heard of it before, but it must've been safe to assume that it belonged to someone here. Presumably one of the men who had made this advertisement in the first place.

With only a moments hesitation, clutching the print-out in hand, you reached out and rapped on the door hard with your knuckles, then stood back and waited.

Silence... You took the opportunity to fix your appearance slightly, suddenly becoming a little self-conscious, smoothing out your shirt before clasping your hands behind your back neatly and putting on your best smile.

First impressions were important, most especially a first impression made at the door after all.

There came the sounds of voices, too muffled for you to hear through the walls, followed closely by the unmistakable thundering of footsteps coming closer and closer from within.

Finally, the door flung open.

You felt your eyes go a little wide, the smile drained from your face as you craned your neck back slightly to meet the gaze of the very tall and very muscular dark-skinned man that now stood before you.

Belatedly, as your eyes followed the droplets of water that were dripping off him, trickling down every inch of his muscular body and pooling at his feet, you realized he was practically naked; clutching only a fluffy white towel around his waist.

The towel didn't look nearly as fluffy and white as his hair, however.

"Uh--" Your tongue swole in your mouth as you both found yourselves staring at one another, seemingly sharing a similar dumbfounded moment.

He blinked owlishly.

"You're not the Pizza delivery." He said matter-of-factly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between the two of you.

Your head shook violently, broke from your sudden stupor, pulling out the slightly crumpled piece of paper out for him to see.

"Uh-- I--... N-No! I'm not-- I'm uh.... here ab-about the-- the roomate ad...?" You sputtered, the words felt as garbled as alphabet soup falling off your tongue, you felt a nervous sweat beading on your skin under your clothes as it hit you for a second time that wasn't wearing any. "Oh! If uh-- this is a bad time I-- I can come back later!"

His face lit up suddenly, eyes shimmering like sapphires. "Oh!" He cried. "I forgot about that!"

The massive man turned, calling back over his shoulder deeper into the apartment.

"Kars! There's a Human here, they saw our advert!"

You happened to be so gobsmacked, still reeling from the slight shock of the very first of your encounter, you hadn't even noticed he distinctly used the word "Human" there.

"What?!"

You couldn't see past the mans hulking figure but you could very well hear the scraping of a chair in the distance, followed by more thundering footsteps heading towards the door.

You blinked as yet another larger-than-life sized man made his appearance, pushing past the first with a frown. The both of them looked almost comically squashed where they stood taking up the whole doorway.

This man was just as tall and as muscular as the first. His skin was like ivory, framed by dark cloth wrapped from his neck to the top of his head with only a tuft of deep purple hair dangling precariously out over his pointed nose.

More importantly, very much unlike the first, this one was fully clothed.

Clad in a dress shirt that matched his hair, slightly unbuttoned to just give you a peak of the buldging muscles he had underneath and the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, neatly pressed black dress pants and house shoes.

Kars blinked in surprise as he caught sight of you at last, eyes scanning over you. He honestly hadn't expected someone to come to their door about the advertisement they had put out so quickly, they had only put it out less than a day ago.

If anything, by the way it had turned out, he was surprised someone responded to it at all.

"Please, come in." Kars told you, making his best attempt to save this lousy first impression.

His surprised look was short-lived, turning sharp as he directed it onto Esidisi. The other man smiled sheepishly, turning and retreat back to the bathroom to finish his shower without the pizza he had left it for...

☆☆☆

☆Previously...☆

Kars hummed, reading over the advert for a 4th time with pursed lips.

He had listed all the necessary information about them and the living situation and even put down a few requirements to set the bar for any Human who would happen to want to apply.

However, even with the ground rules set, it still just seemed a little too bare to him.

"Hmm," Kars peered over his shoulder towards the living room doorway; he swore he could hear more of the crunching of the flaming hot cheetos Esidisi was enjoying rather than the actual program he was watching. "Is there anything specific you would like to add to this before I post it?"

"Shay they mush be cute!" came the reply though a mouthful of spicy junkfood. Kars could only hope he wasn't getting crumbs all over the couch again, not to mention getting too handsy with the T.V remote eating those things...

"That isn't what qualifies as a 'requirement', Esidisi..." he sighed.

The other swallowed, now blessed with the ability to speak much clearer; the crinkling of the cheeto bag hit Kars' ears next.

"Well excuse me for having standards." He heard his oldest companion grumble, drowned out by the crunch of more food.

Wamuu's head peered out of the kitchen, the pie he was just about to place in the oven cradled in oven-mit hands. He had decided to try his hand at fudge pie this time, having mastered apple so quickly.

"It would be nice if the Human were a Warrior as well," he said, disappearing from Kars' sight again as he went back into the kitchen, carrying the pie to the awaiting oven. "Or perhaps if they were interested in going to the Gym or baking as I do..."

Kars sighed, "Wamuu, I understand you would like someone to train with but this--"

"The Human must not be loud."

The Pillarman practically jumped out of his chair, the tiniest yelp escaping his lips as he swiveled his head to find none other than Santana looming over him. The sheet lines imprinted in the others face indicated he had just arisen from a deep sleep; most likely venturing out of his cave and into the kitchen to see what Wamuu was up to.

Even after thousands of years, he still couldn't get used to the youngest Pillarman sneaking up on him.

It probably didn't even count as "sneaking" anyways as Santana was just so naturally quiet he just happened to go unnoticed until he spoke up.

Kars opened his mouth to make an attempt to speak again, only to be cut off one more time as Esidisi finally made his own appearance; leaning over the purple-haired man to see the advert in the works.

"See, this is all wrong." Esidisi told him, frowning at the screen. "This is too formal! If we're going to get someone at all, we need to grab their attention somehow. Here, I'll fix it!"

The other practically clamored over him, cheeto bag tucked under arm as he reached over to type on the computer, deleting the majority of the title Kars had written out and already replacing it with one of his own creation.

Kars belatedly realized the others' hands were still coated in hot cheeto crumbs, smudging the keys of his pristine computer with imprints of red and orange as he typed away.

"Esidisi, stop this at once!" He commanded, trying to push him at arms length, only to be met with a hand pushing back and smooshing against his face. The smell of spicy cheese flavoring hit his nostrils, only fueling his fire. "This is my work computer! I'm the one writing this advertisement!"

Santana merely stood back, watching the two elder Pillarmen fight over the computer in silence. Esidisi was pushed by Kars into the keyboard a handful of times before their focus was solely on one another and no longer the ad.

"Get your grubby hands off me!" Kars growled as the other straddled him in the chair, his face now smudged like his keyboard. They kept pushing on one another, a clumsy slap war already underway, obscenities and curses getting mangled as they argued back and forth.

"You never let me--"

"I told you that--"

"I wanna do it! Just let me--"

Santana peered down at the computer curiously, uninterested in watching the display before him any longer.

The red-head typed out his own request before picking up the device and carrying it to the kitchen for Wamuu to see and whatever he wished; Santana ignored the sound of two bodies toppeling out of the chair and hitting the floor as he left.

Kars didn't even get to see the ad (or rather; the remainder of what qualified as an advert) before it was posted online by Santana.

[bubblegumbeech]

Haunted Towers and Hidden Truths

Phic Phight prompt by @lexiepiper

Write a more traditional ghost story. How would things change if ghost powers weren’t super powers, but closer to old horror movie tropes?

“We shouldn’t do this Danny,” Sam said, ever the voice of reason. “This place isn’t like our usual haunts.“

But Danny shook his head, “No Sam, I have to do this. I have to know what that dream meant, if it was really a dream or something else.”

He moved to take a step forward when his other friend, Tucker, grabbed his arm, “I don’t know man, I think she’s right. There isn’t a possessed item to destroy, or an overactive ghost to try and calm down, heck even Vlad has a weakness we can exploit, we don’t know anything about this place. What if we don’t make it out of this one?”

“Come on Tucker,” Danny argued, his own confidence nothing but a mask, “It can’t be as bad as the haunted video game right? You die in the game you die in real life!”

Tucker didn’t laugh, “this is serious Danny, I know that dream had you messed up, but what if it was just that? A dream?”

“Or,” Sam cut in, “What if it’s a trap? Remember how Desiree tried to get us with that monkey’s paw when she realized we were getting involved with every scary story and urban legend in town and she didn’t want us to find out about her?”

There was also the time a ghost discovered Danny’s secret and decided to haunt him personally and make his life a living hell until he and Tucker were able to exorcise it. It had involved a gorilla, a lot of research into dead safari hunters, and one of his parent’s inventions that they rigged to do what they needed before destroying it so it couldn’t be used against Danny himself. 

“We made it through all of those things together, remember when we first saw Cujo? And we thought he was to blame for Valerie’s mother?” Danny said.

Sam deflated, “and then we did research and discovered that Cu Sith only foretell death, not cause it… But Danny, we tried to research this place, remember? We found nothing. It’s like it doesn’t exist.”

“Yeah man,” Tucker scratched the back of his neck uncertain, “I couldn’t find so much as a blueprint. No building plans, nothing. The only thing we have to go on are stories from reckless kids trying and failing to spend the night.”

“You don’t have to follow me, the last thing I want is to put you both at risk. Especially after last time.” 

Tucker groaned, “Danny you know we aren’t going to let you do this alone right? Especially not after Walker’s prison. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t come in and save you?”

Danny smiled, “I probably would have starved to death to be fair, but yeah, I’ll try to avoid getting locked in any metal cages, deal?”

“To be fair,” Sam said, returning his smile with one of her own, strained though it was, “you probably would have died of thirst first.”

Chuckling at his friends' attempts to lighten the mood once they realized his mind wouldn’t be changed, Danny finally let himself look up at the place in question. It was a tall, crooked looking clocktower with old, brittle wood and peeling paint. In the low light of the evening it looked almost purple and with the dust and cobwebs covering it, it was clear no one had been inside for quite some time. 

The Clocktower was a recurrent presence in his dreams, the ones he’d started having since the accident that made him the way he was: different from any person, but not quite anything else. It was always there in the background, but he’d never gone inside. 

Once, during a particularly dull recurring dream where he relived the life and consequent death of a warehouse worker, he’d walked away from the endless piles of boxes and tried to go inside the clocktower instead. But no matter how far he traveled, it was always the same distance away. He just couldn’t get to it. 

Danny couldn’t shake the feeling though, that something inside might have the answers he’s been searching for. So he stepped forward, and knocked on the door.

There was no answer, of course, and  Danny almost felt foolish doing it, but also, ghosts and spiritual beings all had their own rules and perceptions of what is or isn’t polite, most of which Danny had stumbled into learning the hard way, and it really didn’t hurt to check.

“No answer,” Sam said and Danny nodded, turning the handle. It was old and brass and when it turned it made a loud grinding noise that vibrated along his arm. But it did open, and without Danny needing to persuade it, so that had to be a good sign right?

Unless it really was a trap. 

“Maybe we should leave someone outside, in case it really is like Walker’s prison.” He offered, but both of his friends shook their heads and stepped past him. It was dark, musty and smelled in a weird way, like a library. If a library had locked its doors and not let anyone enter for a good century or so. 

Sam took the lead, her flashlight catching on unfamiliar shapes and shadows. “Do you know what we’re looking for?” she asked, her voice uncertain. 

Danny shook his head, “Not really, just… answers.”

They looked around the ground floor at first, but if it held anything particularly supernatural or important, it wasn’t going to be found. “This just looks like my grandma's living room.” Tucker complained, taking the sheet off of one of the couches, “we need to go further in if we want to actually find something.”

He wasn’t wrong, Danny looked over to the spiralling staircase in the back of the room, and then to the other doors that surrounded it on the first floor. “It’s probably better to do this systemically right? Go through every room on each floor and move our way up?”

“You mean like in a video game?” Sam asked, “sure, we can do that.”

They started on the left, but that room wasn’t much better when it came to finding any kind of clues. It held a kitchen, a very old kitchen, with a stove and oven that Danny had only ever seen in period movies. But…

“Why does it smell like cookies?” Danny asked, turning to his friends who both looked at him like he was crazy.

“Cookies? Yo, Danny this place smells like straight up death. Not cookies.” Tucker said, backing away from the oven and starting to open up cabinets. 

Sam rolled her eyes and did the same on the other side of the kitchen, “it doesn’t smell like death you dolt, it smells… like a graveyard.”

Danny walked to the middle of the room, towards the oven- he always made sure to be the one seeking out the more dangerous or suspicious things in the haunts they went to- while the two of them bickered. They tended to start these smaller, petty arguments when they were scared, it took the edge off. 

“Duh?” Tucker said, and Danny heard him slam one of the cabinets shut, “graveyards are death? What does it smell like to you? Your Mom’s perfume?”

“No, it smells like someone dying, you know all hospital chemicals and gross stuff.”

There wasn’t anything in the oven, but oddly, Danny had felt a wave of warmth when he opened it. Almost like it had just been used. But, ghosts didn’t need to eat, right? And there couldn’t have been a person living here, they’d notice that. At least, Danny hopes they would notice that. After being in dozens of life or death scenarios hinging on whether they noticed important but minute details, they’d become pretty good at that kind of thing.

“Ugh! Don’t talk about hospitals, I’m still not over North Mercy, that was horrible,” Tucker turned to Danny, leaning on one of the counters and ignoring the cabinet he opened right behind his head. “What do you think death smells like Danny?”

Danny walked over and closed the cabinet, he didn’t want something to suddenly appear inside of it all twisted limbs and empty eyes or for something to crawl out and scare them, or even have it slam shut on Tuckers head, like some ghosts were known to do. He didn’t have to put much thought into his answer, “It smells like burnt flesh, electricity, and polished wood.”

Tucker paled, “oh… right. Sorry.” 

He shrugged, “anything yet?”

“Not unless you count cobwebs, dust, and deteriorating cooking books,” Sam answered, walking over to both him and Tucker. 

Danny looked around at the kitchen, it looked normal, even some dying light shone in from the one window along the outer wall. The only thing weird was the shape and that was because it was at the bottom of a spiralling clocktower. There was nothing particularly scary about the place, and frankly Danny didn’t know what to do with that.

“Let’s move on, this place is giving me the creeps,” Sam said, crossing the room and going to the next door. 

Danny and Tucker followed, unwilling to be left behind, or to let her go on her own. The next room was the same size as the other two, but it had an extra window and was crammed absolutely full of books. Just books. Stacks and stacks of them where they didn’t fit on the shelves, which were completely packed themselves, and Danny had the thought that this was probably what he was smelling when they first walked in. 

It was a library. A personal one, but without any room to sit or anything to sit on despite the genuinely impressive display of books and Danny found himself gently stroking his hand against the cover of a book on the top of the nearest stack, When Ghosts Speak: Understanding Earthbound Spirits.

“Please tell me we aren’t reading all of this,” Tucker whined. Danny frowned, why wouldn’t he want to read these? It was a treasure trove of information, these books could have countless, researched, answers to questions they’ve been asking since the start of everything! 

What if one of these books could tell them why Amity Park seemed to attract the supernatural, why they seemed to gain power within the city’s boundaries, why Danny wasn’t dead. He wanted nothing more than to grab any one of these books, walk into the next room, with the couches and comfortable chairs, sit down and read and read until he found something, anything he could use. 

These books might even be able to help him deal with the supernatural threats that plagued their town. Mostly they’ve been surviving through luck and half baked internet searches with the occasional trip to the town library. And while it had been enough so far, Danny was practically salivating at the thought of being properly, genuinely prepared for something for once. 

“Of course we aren’t,” Sam said, dragging Danny out of his fantasies of maybe knowing what he was doing, “they’re completely deteriorated. If we even tried to open one it would probably fall apart.”

Danny frowned, and then looked down at the book he’d subconsciously grabbed. It didn’t seem as bad as Sam was describing, but he also didn’t want to risk it either. He’d realized early on there was a difference between what he was seeing and what was actually real. He set it down gently and looked around the rest of the room with his friends. 

“Are we so sure this place is haunted?” Danny asked. By then, the sun had set entirely and the only light left was their flashlights. High powered and with fresh batteries they were still little use against the encroaching dark and Danny wanted to move on to the next floor already if he wasn’t going to be able to open a book. 

Tucker stood up from behind a precariously leaning shelf and dusted himself off, “Dude you’re the one that said there was something here and we needed to investigate. Remember, like an hour ago when the two of us were trying to stop you from going inside?”

Danny scoffed, “that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean then?” Sam asked, stepping closer so she could meet his eyes. There was something in her expression, curiosity or suspicion, Danny couldn’t quite parse. 

“I…” Danny stopped to think, what did he mean? Was it just that the place didn’t feel haunted? There wasn’t anything here trying to scare him away, no ominous winds or loud knocking, but they’ve gone into haunts before that took a long time to start actually reacting to them. “There’s no, I don’t know how to explain it. Usually when we go somewhere haunted, that a ghost has a claim to or whatever… there’s this feeling that I’m trespassing? I don’t feel like I’m trespassing here.”

That probably didn’t make any sense, and despite everything they didn’t usually act on Danny’s gut instincts as a group without evidence. The issue with the circus and it’s terrifying owner was a lesson too well learned after all. 

True to expectations neither Sam nor Tucker looked convinced. They shared a quick ‘what now’ look between each other and Danny resisted taking a step back and sinking into the wall. Not that he could do that, as far as he knew he couldn’t do that. Only actual ghosts could do something like that and despite everything Danny was still human- well, still had a physical form. 

Permanently. 

“Let’s move on upstairs,” Sam reasoned, “if Danny’s right there won’t be any harm in it, and if he’s not we’ll find out once whatever’s here starts actually reacting to us, right?”

Perfectly reasonable and logicked as always. Danny nodded and walked to the next door, if he was right it would lead into the room they had first entered with the staircase that twisted and climbed higher and higher into the heart of the tower. That was the next place to go. He knew that.

Tucker gently patted his shoulder as they walked towards the base of the stairs, “yeah, maybe the ghost doesn’t consider this bottom part his haunt? Maybe he just likes the clock on top?”

Danny smiled, “like the hunchback of Notre Dame?”

Smiling back, Tucker nodded, “exactly! Oh man, we gotta find out if that guy is real one of these days.”

“We have our hands a bit tied with Amity Park without going after disney characters,” Sam said, pushing the two of them from behind so they’d actually go up the stairs. “Now let's get a move on, I want to be back home before breakfast so my parents don’t realize I snuck out again.”

There was something Danny could say but he bit back the comment about how at least her parents would notice and quickly walked up the stairs instead. As soon as his feet touched the first step a bubbly feeling lifted in his chest, and it made him want to go higher as fast as he could there was someone up there waiting for him-

“Danny!” Sam called out, grabbing him by the arm, “calm down!”

Her grip on his arm was tight and Danny looked down to see what had her panicked only to find his feet had left the stairs entirely and he’d started floating upwards instead of walking. Like a human. Like his friends. Like what he was supposed to be. 

He swallowed and let himself sink back down, forcing the feeling in his chest back as much as he could. It was like trying to kill the fizz in a shaken soda by screwing a cap back on it and he struggled with it for a moment. He’d never felt like this before- sure, most ghosts and other supernatural entities tended to broadcast emotions to a higher degree than humans, and with them also being natural empaths and Danny’s unfortunate situation it often led to him being overtaken by emotions that weren’t necessarily his own. 

It’s just, they’ve never been this overwhelmingly positive before.

Even with Vlad, as human as he was, his emotions were always tinted with obsession and desperation. His need to have Danny and his mother for his own colored every interaction he’d had with the man and it often left a bitter, strained feeling in his chest. Right now, Danny felt almost giddy. And he wasn’t even sure it wasn’t just his own emotions, reacting to the environment around him. It was a nice environment after all. 

But Danny was good at ignoring things like that. 

“My bad. I’ll try and keep my feet on the ground from now on.”

Sam looked conflicted, “Danny you know we don’t mind you using your powers,” Danny nodded, they’d told him so many times over and over again, “But we don’t want to lose you to them. You promised to stay with us, remember?”

Danny smiled, “I remember. I won’t end up like that, I promised. That’s why we’re here right? To stop it?”

Sam nodded and let him go. 

The second floor was similar to the first, in that it had three rooms leading into each other with the spiral staircase in the center. Danny started with the door on the right. It was a study. There was a desk, paperwork, and a bottle of ink with a quill and Danny found himself wondering just how old this clocktower really was. And how long it had been since its occupant was truly here, alive, if ever. 

They split up and started looking around, eagerness exposed in their movements. This was the most likely place to have something useful, especially if whoever spent their time here was as studious as the lower floor suggested.  Danny went for the desk. 

There was a note on it, in perfect, looped handwriting and the ink was still glistening, fresh from the bottle if the smell had anything to say about it. Danny ran his hand across the words hoping to smudge it, but it had dried already, if barely. 

It’s nice to meet you, little anomaly.

Danny grit his teeth. 

“Guys,” he called out, holding the paper, “It knows we’re here.”

Sam and Tucker rushed over, and Sam grabbed the paper from his hand to read for herself. “Little anomaly? Isn't that kind of insensitive?”

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed, “you just have weird ghost powers right? Vlad’s the same way it’s not like you’re the only person on the planet like you.”

Hesitant to correct him, Danny bit his tongue. It was true that Vlad was a person who had unfortunately gained the abilities of a ghost, things like floating, making objects move with his mind or using his spirit to control people while he slept safe and sound at home. And he’d gained them in a similar way to Danny as well, trusting the wrong people and delving into things he never fully understood and still didn’t. 

It was just … less true for Danny was all. 

But he wasn’t going to tell them that, he wasn’t going to tell anyone that. So how did whoever, or whatever this was, know? Or was it just saying things to get under his skin, that was pretty par for the course when it came to ghosts. So why wasn’t it doing anything else? Trying to get them to leave? Was Sam right? Was it really a trap this entire time? What would happen if they went back downstairs and tried the door, would it open?

He grabbed the paper and shoved it into one of his jackets pockets, there was plenty of time to freak out over it later after all. “Let’s keep looking around, there has to be something here that it’s trying to distract us from.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything more useful than there had been downstairs. Just what one would expect from a normal office. What papers he did find had detailed extensive notes, yes. But they were in a language Danny couldn’t read and neither Sam nor Tucker even recognized. It was infuriating!

Almost like whoever was haunting this place, was telling them it had all the answers they wanted but wouldn’t give them any. He just wanted to know how - Danny shook his head. There had to be something. He wouldn’t have been led all the way here, had all those dreams, if there was nothing he could do at all. 

He threw one more frustrated look around the office before he threw the stack of papers he’d been digging through on the floor and marched over to the next door. It was unlocked, again, just like all of the others and it only served to increase Danny’s frustration. 

“Wait, Danny,” Sam noticed him leaving and quickly followed, the door slammed shut behind them, locking Tucker inside the office.

“No,” he whispered, this was all his fault, he shouldn’t have let this ghost get in his head like this! He never should have let his emotions take him over, he knew better. It led to bad things. Horrible, terrible, things. 

There was a loud bang on the door, someone was pounding against it and Danny flinched. Was the actual haunting finally starting? Was everything really just a way to lure them deeper into the tower and away from each other? 

“Guys?” he heard Tucker call out from the other side of the door, “did you seriously just leave me behind? Don’t we have like, a rule against that?!” 

Danny sighed in relief, it was just Tucker. “Are you okay Tuck? Did anything happen over there when the door shut? Any oozing walls or flying papers-”

There was another thump, probably Tucker banging his head against the door, “I know what to look for Danny I’ve been doing this the exact same amount of time as you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny acquessed. “Just get to the stairs and we’ll meet you there.”

He exchanged a glance with Sam, she was glaring a hole into the side of his head and he felt guilty for being the cause of everything going wrong, again. So he apologized and ignored her exaggerated eye roll when she said he should have known better, because well, he did. But what was he going to do, apologize twice?

The room they were in was a simple one, likely some kind of storage space that he and Sam could dig through for hours on end, but it was more important to get to Tucker than to try and make sure they didn’t miss anything. 

Which, in hindsight, was probably exactly why they’d been separated. 

A cold breeze tickled at Danny’s hair and he felt himself relax despite it all. It felt nice, the cold, and Danny liked when the haunts they went to leaned towards the chillier side like this. Sometimes, especially if Vlad was involved, it felt like he was walking into an overwarm swamp when he entered a haunt and it made him itchy and uncomfortable the entire time. Vlad never seemed to notice, and his friends complain equally about both, so Danny had mostly kept it to himself. 

The entire tower felt nice, cold dry air, the smell of books, ink, and cookies, even the playful, excited feeling that seemed to permeate throughout the tower. Like someone had designed it to appeal in every way to both sides of Danny’s instincts. 

It was unnerving. 

He followed Sam out of the room and back into the middle where the stairs were, but Tucker wasn’t there. 

Sam pulled out her phone, and Danny held his breath as it rang, once, twice, and then a click and Tucker’s familiar, annoyed voice came through the speaker and Danny sighed in relief. “Uh guys? I couldn’t get out the door so I tried to climb out a window, and there was uh, a ladder. So I’m outside right now. Come get me?”

Danny met eyes with Sam and nodded, they headed back down, “we’re coming Tuck,” he said.

“Cool, cool, actually rather than coming to get me, can we just go home? Come back later, like in the day time? How come we never do these things in the daytime?”

“You know that’s not how ghosts work Tucker.” Sam said, bored, as they walked to the front door. Danny felt a tug, something like a hand on his shoulder and turned to see what was behind him. There wasn’t anything there. 

He turned back around to see that Sam had already walked outside, and was holding the door open for him, one of her eyebrows raised. Awkwardly, Danny jogged a little, so as to not hold them up too long. But before he could actually walk outside the door slammed shut.

Sam screamed.

“Danny! Are you okay!” Tucker asked, his voice panicked and muffled from the other side of the door.

“I’m fine,” Danny said, gritting his teeth and turning around. The room didn’t look or feel any different. There was nothing screaming at him to get out or anything else malicious. If anything it seemed even cosier than before, and Danny didn’t really know how to react to that. 

He looked back at the door. There was a way, no. He couldn’t do that. Danny pinched at the bridge of his nose, the only thing to do, really, was to see who had invited him in. That’s what it was right? Some kind of weird ghostly invite?

“I’m going to go check upstairs,” he called out to his friends before walking back towards the staircase. 

They pounded on the door, “Danny don’t you dare go up there without us! Just wait, we’ll find a way in! It’s dangerous alone!” 

Ignoring their protests Danny took the stairs two steps at a time, fighting the rising excitement in his chest and firmly planting his feet against the polished wood. There were answers waiting for him, he knew there were. He just had to find them. 

The third floor had a bedroom, it was nice, cozy and the bed even looked inviting. Danny didn’t bother to stay long. Whoever it was that called him here wasn’t in this room, nor were they in the next or the one after that. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom on that floor and Danny quickly made his way to the next. 

This room was different from the rest. For one there were windows, everywhere, that seemed to play different scenes of different people from all over the world. If Danny strained his ears, he could even hear them speaking different languages. On the other side from the windows was an entire wall of clockwork that chimed and churned as the gears moved, keeping the face of the clock on the outside ticking along in sync with the rest of the world. 

When Danny stepped into the room properly the carpet sunk easily underneath his feet and he felt a nice, cold breeze that came from a purple flamed fire housed properly in a fireplace in the middle of the room. He hadn’t even noticed a chimney from outside. 

There was a man in front of the fire. He was tall and hooded and he carried an equally tall and gnarled staff in one of his gloved hands. Danny felt himself freeze, he had never seen a ghost this solid before. There was always a little bit of transparency, no matter how powerful, they didn’t have physical forms afterall. Not like Danny.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was dry and soft and Danny was thankful when it didn’t crack on his question. How embarrassing would that have been? 

The man turned around, his face changing as he did from old and aged to a younger one, closer to his parent’s age, a large jagged scar marking it’s way through one of his eyes and down his cheek. He smiled, “I am Clockwork, Master of time. All that was, All that is, and All that will be. I understand you have many questions for me. I hope to answer them.” 

A thousand questions ran rapidly through his mind, why did you call me here? Did you call me here? Why get rid of my friends? What are you and why haven’t I seen anything like you before?

“How do I prevent myself from becoming that.” Danny asked the most pressing question first, desperate. The man-ghost-Clockwork, sighed and gestured for him to sit. There was a comfortable looking couch with an equally comfortable chair across from it and a plate of cookies set on an elegantly carved coffee table between the two.

“That’s easily answered, sit, have a cookie.” Clockwork floated over, crossing his legs and settling into the chair before grabbing a cookie for himself. 

Danny glanced at them, uncertain, before taking a seat. The couch was even more comfortable than it looked and he found himself sinking back into it, confused. The room was a nice, cold, temperature as well, despite the fire clearly burning in the fireplace. 

He grabbed one of the cookies, “can I eat these?” he asked, looking over at his host.

“Of course,” Clockwork smiled, taking a bite of his own before leaning back, “I made them for you. Though your friends would have to be more careful, I’m not sure what food like this would do to a human.”

“I am human,” Danny argued, placing the cookie back on its plate. He had to, denial was all he had left at this point. 

Clockwork frowned, “yes, well, I suppose we’ll get there next. You wanted to know about your dreams.”

Finally, Danny nodded, “they’re different ever since- uh well… ever since the incident.”

“It’s natural to not want to talk about one’s death,” Clockwork said, he leaned forward and tilted his head, “or one’s birth.”

“My dreams,” Danny asked, avoiding that conversation with all the grace of a blind hippo, “why are they different. You know right?”

Sighing, Clockwork nodded and leaned back, “yes, I know everything. They’re different, frankly, because they’re dreams. It’s unsettling to you because it’s new, you’ve never dreamed before.”

Danny scowled, “that doesn’t make any sense, I had plenty of dreams when-”

Clockwork interrupted him, disappointment plain under his hood, “You can lie to your friends Daniel, but I already know the truth. Just as you do.”

“I was astral projecting. Like what Vlad does… but then why-?” Danny bit his tongue. He couldn’t say it, not outloud. It was too difficult, he’d spent too long hiding it, pushing it away and doing everything he could to keep anyone from noticing. 

“Why can’t you do it anymore?” Clockwork answered for him, Danny nodded. “The simple answer is that you aren’t like Vladimir, despite what he believes and would like you to believe as well. But that’s something else you already know. Ask me a question you don’t have the answers for.”

Danny grabbed another cookie, biting into it fiercely just to have an excuse not to speak. It tasted really good, better than anything he’d had in a while and Danny wondered if maybe there was something in it meant to sate his less human cravings. The thought didn’t help his inner turmoil. 

Clockwork smiled softly at him though and sighed, “Fine, in order to answer your question, first I have one of my own.”

“Didn’t you just say you know everything?” Danny mumbled before shoving more cookie in his mouth. 

“What good is a teacher that only lectures?” Clockwork said in retort, “do you remember how you died?”

He did, of course he did. “Kinda hard to forget that. Lab accident, electrocution, nothing fancy.” he said, curling in on himself. Clockwork had been right before, it was painful to talk about. But he wanted, no, needed the answers to his questions. He’d survive this. 

“Well, that’s where your first mistake lies. Yes, that is what stopped your heart, and likely the most memorable part, but you didn’t die from that Daniel. What killed you came after.”

Danny frowned, “that doesn’t make any sense? What happened after?”

“Your spirit was never particularly bound to your body in the first place, likely due to your parents dabbling where they shouldn’t for as long as they did before you were ever born. There was a summoning, I think you remember, that your parents were holding when your accident happened on the floor below them.”

It was frustrating, that he was right. That he knew it. “I remember them recognizing me, my spirit. I remember them finding my body and shoving me back in. I remember the pain, and waking up and seeing-” Danny choked on the realization. It couldn’t be...

“Seeing the world in your dreams?” Clockwork asked, “the way you saw it when you were a spirit, free from the confines of your body, correct?” He floated over the table, sat next to Danny, and placed a hand on his back. Danny realized he had been shaking. 

He grabbed the fabric of his jeans in a tight grip and tried to stop, “It’s all real, right? It isn’t… I’m not still dreaming? Please, I need to know.”

The hand on his back pulled him close, tucked into Clockwork’s side and Danny felt comforted despite himself, he fought to blink away tears that had been building behind his eyes as he tucked himself into Clockwork’s side. He was so solid, unlike any other ghost Danny had ever met and he seemed to radiate comfort where most just gave off fear and hurt. 

“You’re not dreaming Daniel, you never were. The world is different when you see it  through our eyes, that is all. When you woke up, you weren’t human anymore. Of course you wouldn’t be limited by a human’s sight.”

Danny curled into himself tighter, despair clouding around him and likely leeching unpleasantly into the air. It would be a wonder if Clockwork didn’t feel it. “So I’m a ghost.”

“Hardly,” Clockwork said and Danny stopped breathing, “Do you think the world is so simple it is split between what is ghostly and what is not?”

“I…” Danny had actually assumed that. So far everything they’d dealt with so far, short of Vlad, had either been a ghost or spirit of some kind, or a human that used magic or ghostly artifacts. Even Vlad had simply been a person who had learned how to control his own spirit the way a ghost would. If Danny wasn’t a human, and he wasn’t a ghost, then what was he?

Clockwork ruffled his hair, “I suppose you’re young. It is easier, afterall, to think of it that way. But Daniel, ghosts don’t have physical forms. They can possess one, or control one, and sometimes even mimic one, but they are spirits.”

He sighed, “you are something entirely different. You’re something remarkable.”

Danny leaned back, using the sleeves of his hoodie to quickly dry his tears so he could look Clockwork in the eye, “What am I?”

“You’re new.”

Danny shoved him, “Agghh, I knew that you jerk!” It was probably a bad idea to attack or antagonize someone as clearly powerful and knowledgeable as Clockwork, but really he’d been asking for it. And Danny’s patience was only so strong. 

Clockwork didn’t fight him back though, nor did he get offended. Instead he just smiled that soft smile that Danny was starting to realize was affection, and said, “did you? Weren’t you trying to read my books to find out if there was anyone else like you?”

“Well yeah-” Danny stopped, “Oh. There wouldn’t be anything would there? If I’m the first?”

He groaned, that really was just his luck. He’d never figure out anything at this rate. Clockwork, the bastard, just hummed and grabbed another cookie, offering it to him. “No there wouldn’t. But you’re not the only one who was the first or only of their kind. Who had to figure out on their own, who and what they are.”

“You mean Vlad?” Danny asked, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth, wow he really hoped he didn’t mean Vlad.

Clockwork’s smile turned brittle, “I don’t mean Vlad.”

Danny chuckled, his thoughts turning mischievous, “I don’t know, he seems pretty unique, what with all those different abilities he has and the way he can choose to be human or ghost-”

“Oh please,” Clockwork interrupted, “there’s plenty of humans like Vladimir Masters, you were fully capable of astral projecting like that from birth, no black magic necessary. Just because he found a way to twist-”

He stopped, then looked down at Danny who was trying and failing to hold back a shit eating grin. All at once the air seemed to leave him and he deflated, the irritated look on his face replaced with open and honest affection and Danny felt it sing in the air around them.

“You were messing with me.”

“To be fair I didn’t think it would work, all knowing and everything.” Danny said, unable to fight the bubbling feeling in his chest as it rose to meet the affection around them. Usually it sucked having the empathy of a ghost and being near one or at least, something with the same traits. The negative emotions tended to bounce between him and them and amplify and it always made Danny struggle to parse his own emotions from theirs. But right now, in the top of a clock tower with the most powerful entity Danny had ever met, he felt happiness and joy to a degree he’d long forgotten. It was dizzying. He was almost giddy with it.

Clockwork patted him on the head, purposefully messing his hair, “yes well. I think in time, it will be more obvious just how different you truly are, how crucial every small coincidence was that came together that night to create you. But until then, you had another question? I can answer it now.”

Danny frowned as he realized what Clockwork meant, “You! I asked that question first! How did you only answer the one you wanted to!!”

“It was important,” Clockwork said, relaxing into the couch next to Danny, “to answer that question I had to be sure you knew what you were.”

He sputtered, “But I don’t?! I’m just something new! Something different!”

“Something physical that exists with the laws of the spiritual.”

“Yeah!” Danny said, “Wait, what?”

Clockwork nodded his head, “a physical entity that exists within the realms of spiritual possibility. It must be such a struggle, to deal with both sets of instincts like that.”

Danny’s head hurt, it was too much to try and understand the details of all of this. Maybe Tucker was right and he should just have let it be, learn to live with the new normal his life was now. Wasn’t that kind of what Clockwork was suggesting anyways? Then again, unlike Tucker, he did seem to thrive off of all of Danny’s questions, whether he actually answered them or not. 

“Yeah, I have to fight my more ghostly instincts all the time. It’s exhausting.” he said, leaning into Clockwork. It should have been embarrassing, seeking comfort like that, but he’d already cried into his shoulder and there wasn’t really any way to come back from that so Danny did as he pleased. 

He felt Clockwork’s hand return to his back, a solid comforting presence, “Now why would you do that?”

Danny tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“Why would you fight against one half of yourself so thoroughly? But embrace the other side entirely?” Clockwork elaborated. “Did you think there wouldn’t be any consequences in fighting against your nature?”

“But,” Danny struggled to speak, pieces of the puzzle he’d thought hopeless putting themselves together in ways he had never expected and didn’t quite understand, “my nature is bad.”

Clockwork frowned and turned to look at Danny properly, “Daniel, it’s your nature. There is nothing good or bad about it. It is only as it is. Everything is as it’s meant to be.”

This was too much, Danny sat up fully and turned entirely towards Clockwork, “are you saying, the way I become that thing from my nightmare, is by… doing what I’ve been doing to avoid becoming that thing?!”

“Yes,” Clockwork answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

He blinked, the answer really couldn’t be that easy. “But in my dream, I, my instincts-”

Clockwork grabbed a cookie and placed it in his hands, “even humans react poorly, when they starve themselves. As you exist now, you simply need a different kind of sustenance. One you’ve been denying.”

Danny felt dread crawl down the length of his spine, “what kind of sustenance?”

“Spirits exist for reasons, and they exist differently from humans. In order to keep existing they need emotions, experiences, something to keep them held together. A spirit that has no reason to exist will simply disappear, you’ve seen such before it is relatively common after all. But you can’t do that, since you are physical in a way that they are not. You can starve yourself endlessly, into madness even if you’re desperate enough.”

“I do it to myself?” Danny asked, flustered and frustrated. It was true then? He really was his own worst enemy? 

Clockwork shook his head, “it is not inevitable Daniel. As you were, it was the most likely path forward. Yes. You would have noticed the symptoms, seen yourself losing control and then, in reaction, suppressed yourself further. Starved yourself further.”

Danny cringed, yeah, that sounded like him. “How do I stop it then? I just embrace what makes me ghostly? What about my parents? If they think they failed the resurrection, that I’m not human anymore, they’ll kill me for real! Or worse!”

“That is indeed troublesome, and the paths of the future where they know your truth are twisted and sharp, every small decision every tiny change causing a greater effect on their reactions as a whole. But you do not need to reveal yourself to your parents to live your truth.”

Relieved, Danny fell back into the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he’d floated off of it, was that good? Bad? He shook his head, this was all too confusing. “How then?” He asked, maybe this time he’d actually get a straight answer. 

Clockwork ruffled his hair and stood up, er, well, floated up and over towards the fire. “You continue doing what you’re doing with your friends, protecting your town and interacting with the truth of the world around you. And…” He turned around, “you can come visit me. It’s quite lonely in the clock tower they trapped me in, and there is much I can teach you about becoming. I had to learn such things about myself once after all.”

“You’ll let me come back? To visit you?” Danny didn’t know what to say. He could come visit, ask more questions, get more answers. It seemed too good to be true, and Danny found himself eager and excited at the prospect. 

For some reason, the entire conversation, he’d thought this would be a one time thing. That the clocktower would disappear behind him and leave any question he didn’t ask unanswered. To find out that wasn’t the case, that he had somehow, against all odds, made some kind of ghostly ally, was beyond expectations. “You’ll help me?”

The answering smile had Danny floating out of his seat, “Of course Daniel. I’ll even bake cookies.” 

[whaleofatjme1920]

Searching for Hidden Things (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Searching for Hidden Things

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: it's kinda sad? Language, blood but only slight.]

[AN: Another good one from Eris]

You are convinced that your home is haunted now more than ever. While you are not particularly ghost believer inclined, as a witch, your mind is open to these kinds of happenings but that’s not your field of study - you’re much more inclined to herbology and green witchery as opposed to medium and seership into other planes of existence. The natural, real world is what you are focused on. Not some spectre that happens to like little knickknacks that you don’t even claim ownership to.

How on earth did you end up here?

Simple. Fresh out of college and working from home, you decided to leave your stuffy city and come out to the countryside to get back into nature. It took forever to find a place that piqued your interest, but a small town smack dab in the middle of Alabama. You’re almost dead certain there’s barely five thousand people in the area. Though, you hardly stick around long enough to find out.

You only dip into town in the evenings and get the groceries that you can’t grow. Let’s just say you really enjoy living off the land and that practice helps you further your own craft. It’s anything a hedgewitch might dream of. The people that live here are pleasant, but they’re silent.

It was a normal evening visiting your favorite curiosity and occult shop run by a sweet girl and her partner who have come to expect you weekly on Saturdays. You usually stay for tea and a cupcake or whatever baked good Zinnia and Briar have set up for you, and it is from one of these little sit downs that you found out your home isn’t exactly normal.

“It’s so nice to see you again, love bug!” Briar smiles widely, their arms opening to greet you.

You smile back and walk into their arms and hug back just as tightly. “I could never miss tea time with my two favorite curio owners,” you chuckle.

Zinnia pops out from the back, her hands are covered by oven mitts. “I just made some brownies! Also have some angel food cake from last night. Come, come. Briar? Get the tea,” she says as she rushes to the back to set up the table in the sunroom.

Briar nods and puts their hand on your upper back, guiding you to the back. “My wife thought you would’ve liked the angel food cake. She’s been talking about it all night,” they explain, a giggle on their lips.

Zinnia is buzzing around like a bumble bee while her partner attempts to get her to sit down. She’s a good host, you’ll give her that. This is your fourth sit down with them and she’s like this every time.

“Reader isn’t going to care about the plates-” Briar attempts to say before getting shushed by Zinnia.

“I like being aesthetically pleasing,” she says as Briar absentmindedly ties her curly black hair into a ponytail. “Unlike you,” she giggles.

You roll your eyes playfully at their sweet gestures. “Aesthetically pleasing or not, those brownies and the cake look delicious.”

“See? Reader gets it,” Briar lightly ribs before bringing the tea to the table, Zinnia following close behind them with platters and plates. “So,” Briar hums. “How is your place?”

You begin pouring yourself some tea and shrug. “I don’t think I ever mentioned it to you, have I?”

The couple shake their heads as they get comfortable in their seats. “Where have you put your boots down?” Zinnia inquires.

“There’s this little house in the woods,” you begin to explain before sipping at your tea. “Had a great garden and was already furnished, asked the realtor and she practically threw it into my arms.” You put down your tea cup and cut a brownie for yourself before raising a brow at the couple’s shocked and slightly confused expressions. “What’s wrong?”

Briar blinks a few times before shaking their head. “It’s nothing! Just, it’s the house in the woods?”

You nod in confirmation. “The house in the west woods, near the pond with water lilies?” You continue in an attempt to further their understanding, getting the feeling there’s something you don’t know but should. “Guys..?”

“S-Sorry,” Zinnia suddenly says. “It’s just that…” Her eyes shift around for a few moments before she leans in close, as if she was telling you a secret. “That house is haunted.”

Your eyes go wide before you laugh. You laugh and laugh and then when you realize they’re silent, you blink. “Wait what? Why do you say that?”

“Someone used to live there a few years ago, we moved in after her… disappearance,” Briar explains. “She just,” Briar makes a poof shape with their hands, “like nothing. No trace, no leads, the house was empty but everything of theirs? Still there.”

“Who was the person that lived there before?” You ask, intrigue kicking up before you bite into the brownies and then try the angel food cake. Zinnia was right, you do like it.

Briar shrugs, “we don’t know. Whispers say it was the girl named Natalie. She kept to herself but from the people I’ve talked to so far - at least, those who would talk about it - said she was sweet and spunky.”

“Guy at the grocery store, Mr. Wu? He said that Natalie was his regular. They were friends,” Zinnia adds on. “He used to visit her house every now and then and said near the end, her behavior got kind of squirrely. One night, he went to visit her and saw her running. Of course, guy is like seventy, got scared and ran back home. Called the police over it. They got there? Nothing.”

You nod as you listen to them give out their theories on what might have happened to Natalie. It’s one of the most interesting things you’ve heard of since you moved in.

When you returned home, you couldn’t help but shake the thought you were a guest in what used to be Natalie’s home. Your hands flew over the slightly dusty shelves and found it wrong to really touch anything that might not be yours. There’s books about boring things, encyclopedias, general knowledge, young adult fiction, but nothing that tells you who she was.

As you stand with your arms crossed in your living room, you search for the things that were left from her. Your room is entirely yours, you’ve already managed to find a room and clear it out for your witchy things, the kitchen was empty and there is no basement. This house is small, more like a cottage. If there were any signs of who she was, they’re not easy at making themselves known.

All you have to go off of from her is the living room and is undoubtedly Natalie’s and not yours. The shelves and other knick knacks are things that don’t match your aesthetic at all. Seems she was fond of the color green, just not plants like you are.

It’s by the living room that you’re able to learn some things about Natalie, even if they’re minute. For instance, you can tell that either she likes costumes or she’s missing an eye due to a small box of eyepatches varying in color and design. She’s got a frew petal pressed flowers - tulips - and last you checked, that meant a declaration of love according to the standard Victorian language of flowers.

You know absolutely nothing about Natalie other than her name and that she may be missing an eye and that she has tulips, but she permeates your mind like a virus that refuses to go away. You’re entranced with her, and want to know more of her.

When you work on sigils, you make one for her and put it in the corners of the front windows and in the doorframe. You wonder if she’s out there, and if she is, if she’s safe. If she is, you hope the runes and sigils you’ve made for her will keep her that way.

One evening at the grocery store, you have the privilege of being able to speak to Mr. Wu when ringing up some craving you’ll know you’ll inevitably have.

“Natalie?” He hums as he rings up your items. “She was a nice girl,” he continues. “Very kind, had a good sense of humor.”

You furrow your brows and smile sympathetically at him. “I’m sorry for-”

“It’s no matter,” Mr. Wu brushes off. “I don’t know what happened to her, and I’d like to think she’s still out there,” he begins checking the register for the total. “I’d like to think that when she was running, it was towards better and away from whatever it was she couldn’t get here..” His old, weathered hand reaches out to show you the total on the screen. You notice he’s put on a 50% discount. “On me,” he smiles.

Ever since then, Natalie has consumed your thoughts entirely.

So, how does this all tie into a little sparrow figurine going missing? You think it’s haunted. Genuinely. Have you angered Natalie’s spirit by messing with her house? You’re not so sure. You don’t communicate with spirits, though you’re considering picking up a pendulum and attempting.

Ever since you’ve heard about Natalie, things in your house have been getting moved or straight up lifted. It doesn’t help that you hear, no, you think you hear, things outside lurking around your home. Spiritually, you’ve protected the place more than you think is necessary. The not deer, skinny legends and Wendy boys really shouldn’t be knocking around her mostly because the place is just one giant protective bubble. Still, as you sit up late in the night and look at the moon as it reflects the water from the pond and the peer through the darkness of the trees that hang much too low, you know something is out there that shouldn’t be.

This has all come to a head when you wake up one morning to see that the sparrow figurine is gone. It makes you startle and almost drop your mug in response.

“How the hell..?” You say as you stare at the empty space. Its little circular base has left the real shade of the wood it sits on open. The dust has accumulated around it. You saw it here just yesterday! Little brown and tan sparrow and now it’s gone.

On instinct, you open your front door. It was still locked, and it doesn’t seem that anyone came in. But you know that you didn’t move it either. You haven’t touched any of Natalie’s things, you wouldn’t because you’re worried you’re going to upset her spirit or something. Who took it?

Unfortunately, that’s not even the first time it’s happened. A few days later, the little robin is gone too. Now you are absolutely convinced your home is haunted.

Of course, you call up one of your friends who also practices witchcraft like you do to see what you can do about making amends with a spirit. He’s a death witch - he should know.

“Wait what?” He says, his voice conveying nothing but confusion.

“You heard me,” you sigh as you plop down on the couch. “I think she’s been like, taking things because she doesn’t trust me with them?” You say in a slightly confused tone.

“But you really haven’t moved anything in the living room, right? From the pictures you sent me, you left that space as hers. She shouldn’t be upset considering you never touched her stuff.”

“But these figurines are still missing. How did they just get up and go?” You ask in a slightly exasperated tone, staring at the empty space.

“Y’know what you should try?” He begins, a small audible smile on his face. “Find something personal of hers and return it to her. Maybe she’s looking for something and is just settling.”

“Do you have a protocol for that or..?” You trail off.

“I’ll send you a page from my grimoire, sounds good?”

Here you are, late at night, not able to sleep and looking for something personal of hers. You don’t think it’s anything out in the open that she wants because why would she want that? It’s in her line of sight. You’ve practically turned up your home looking for it - her home? You’re not sure what kind of terminology you should use in regards to this house, but you know you’re hellbent on finding something, anything of importance to her home.

“Come on, Natalie,” you mumble to yourself as you head to your bedroom and begin overturning things. “I just need something of yours, help me make it make sense,” you say. “Natlie, Natalie, Nat, Nat-” and immediately after that nickname tumbles from your lips, you get the overwhelming urge to check under your bed.

Like a mad woman, you dive down to the floor and begin pulling your storage boxes out from under it. One of them snags slightly, and when you tug on it, you pull. Odd. You tug even harder. That’s when part of the carpet comes up. You raise your brow and shove the box out of the way before crawling under yourself and use the flashlight on your phone. It’s dark, a little dusty under here, but you clearly know someone has been under here before.

Your fingertips creep around the edge of the odd piece of carpet before you pull it up, seeing that it’s already been cut up. And there, you feel a handle.

“Oh my gods,” you mumble creeping further under the bed before yanking at the small handle. It doesn’t give right away. In fact, it makes you bump your head from the sheer force of trying to open it. It’s almost as if it was a secret and you’re violating the parties who knew it existed. Still, you continue to tug on it before it finally pops open. You move your phone over to see that there’s a box with the lid loosely placed on. Your hand gently reaches in and scoops the box up. You hold it like it’s glass. “Thank you, Natalie, thank you,” you mumble as you roughly and awkwardly crawl out from back under the bed.

You sit on your bedroom floor now, your phone now forgotten as your fingertips gently trace the box. You mentally ask for Natalie’s permission to open it and when you get the feeling of something warm, like a hug, you do so. Inside the box that you gingerly open, you see that there are letters, letters upon letters in a writing addressed to her.

“Can I read these, Natalie?” You ask softly, your eyes scanning over the one you hold in your hand dates from a few years ago. You feel that warm hug again, and the night alights with songs from the birds on the pond. You know you have her permission.

‘March 16, 20XX. Dear Natalie, how are you? I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldnt have left that soon, but you know hoy my dad is. Anyways, just wanted to check in. Hope to see you soon.’

‘March 22, 20XX. Dear Natalie, I wasn’t actually expecting you to get back to me after what happened! I - thank you. Things have been just fine with me, but I miss being in Alabama. No reason, just miss the woods by your place.’

‘May 5th, 20XX. It’s funny you mentioned that, I saw something last night that reminded me of you too. Y’know how you’re always going on about time and being punctual? The other day, me and my comrades were walking through an antique store. Whole bunch of clocks. Made me think of you:).’

You keep reading the letters and piecing together the story of these two as it picks up through the years as general friendship to something more. This person that Natalie was writing to told them a lot of things - everything from the general happenings of the day to more quieter, intimate things (that you tend to skip over out of respect for Natalie.)

Reading the letters to Natalie becomes a daily occurrence for you. There’s so many that you decide it wouldn’t be right to read them all in one day. So, you read two a night and piece together their story, learning of their love and finding out just who they were. Natalie left some letters that she never sent to her love, mostly the ones that she must have considered duds or the angry ones that she decided not to send when her fire had died down. What? All couples go through those patches. It’s whether you can fix it and get back on the road or hitchhike with another driver that determines the outcome. And them? They loved each other so much, looking at another driver to get to their destination was never an option.

It takes months for you to get through the letters. Even reading two a day, it’s hard to get through a few years worth of content. They wrote to each other often. You’re able to see the full spectrum of emotions from them two, even if you’re on;y reading the letters addressed TO Natalie and not from her (for the most part). You read them smiling, and can hear their tears alongside their laughter. They no longer feel like names on paper, but real, once breathing people.

Eventually, you reach a letter that finally completes the story as you know it. It’s dated from right around the time you know Zinnia and Briar moved in. It explains a lot.

You know that whoever Natalie’s love was working for was NOT a good man. He struck the fear of the gods into them. He was called ‘The Operator’ and apparently had eyes everywhere despite being faceless. The way Natalie’s love writes about him has you feeling chills down your spine. Them too, because it was enough for them to want to run away. Natalie’s love was called a proxy, and from what you can understand, that means he’s a person who does work for someone else because they don’t want to get directly involved. The Operator treats those who work under him like cattle, and nothing more. He was a scary, scary man, and the society he runs is one you know is not intertwined with yours.

The letter that’s in your hands is the last one before their escape it seems.

‘August 31st, 2018. Dear Nat, are you nervous? I’m nervous - you can probably tell by my writing. Tonight we leave everything behind. We run. I hope you know that it’s never too late for you to back out. Because after this, we can never go back to what we used to. I’m so sorry that being around that tall fuck-but did this to you - and shit, by extension, me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, but this is it. This is it. This is the final stop.

Who knew that me striking up a conversation with a cute girl behind the counter of some hippy’s coffee shop would lead to a love like ours? You mean the world to me, Nat. I’m more and more thankful every day that I think about you and receiving your letters has me up to the moon. If you asked me about this kind of thing before I met you, I would have told you that I would never have gotten rid of the proxy lifestyle for a human. Humans are… Well, according to the Operator, they’re dangerous. They’re not worth us.

But you? Oh gods, you? You changed everything. You made it worthwhile. You came into my life like a splash of color in a world so grey and cold and bathed me in warmth until I could reciprocate your love and make room for it to grow. I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. After tonight, we won’t ever have to worry about this - the space and the distance between us. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just us and our transparency.

I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. I’ll see you tonight, backdoor as per what is our usual. To the moon and back! Love, Toby.’

You don’t know why, but Toby’s letter makes you tear up. It’s like you can feel exactly how Natalie must’ve felt when she received it. The tears that prick your eyes roll down your cheeks and you can’t help but take a few moments. You’d always known their story ended with something sad due to the whispers in the town, but getting confirmation that Natalie ran… It didn’t work. It just didn’t work.

You’re wiping away your tears when you hear your backdoor get thrown open. No one comes out to your neck of the woods, and it makes you panic. You can’t find your phone - dang it! Must’ve left it in the kitchen. You scramble around your room as you hear whoever just broke into your house walk confidently without a care in the world to the living room.

“W-Who the f-fuck lives here n-now?” You hear a male voice mutter as they pass your bedroom door. “A-All this w-w-witchy shit,” they continue.

You mentally huff. Rude. You then quietly slink around before grabbing a large chunk of amethyst. It’s rough to the touch and weighty, and unfortunately, one of the only things you have as a weapon now. Your heart is pounding as you quietly move through your hallway to the living room.

“Where i-is it?” He continues mumbling to himself as he tears your living room apart.

You’re able to see him by the faint light of the moon. He’s got brown hair and twitches slightly. Is he nervous? He’s still tearing up your living room though and touching Natalie’s things, and that's unforgivable in your head. So, you raise your chunk of amethyst pillar and quietly creep behind him.

He turns around to look at you, genuinely surprised someone is here when you whack him as hard as you can with the chunk of amethyst. “Are y-you fucking s-serious?!” He yells as he pushes you back.

You look at him with confusion as you back up, still clutching the amethyst before you notice that he didn’t react in the way he should. You hit him really, really hard and in the back of the head. He’s back up and glaring at you like you mildly inconvenienced him. And now? Now he’s pissed and looking at you like he’s going to kill you. You notice that he has hatchets on the sides of his waist.

“C-Come here,” he taunts, eyes narrowed and slowly closing the distance between you.

“Stop,” you shout in an attempt to command him back. “I will hit you-”

“With t-that?” He sneers.

“I swear to the gods I will-”

He looks like he’s ready to pounce when he suddenly stops, a certain sadness and pause rushing over his body and his face as he looks at the letters in your hand. You’d honestly forgotten you were still holding them.

“Where d-did you g-g-g-get those?” He asks quietly, his shoulder dropping.

“What?” You ask, surprised he can do an impression of a human being.

“Those l-letters! They’re n-not yours!” You pull back hard when he tries to grab them from you and swing the amethyst at him and sneer when he ducks. “They’re not yours either!”

“T-The hell t-they aren’t! I-I wrote t-t-them!” He shouts back.

You immediately deflate. “You’re Toby?”

He freezes and flails his arms slightly as if to ask nonverbally, ‘you read those?’

You sigh deeply and rest your hand on your forehead before you rest your arms down slowly, showing that you’re not going to fight him. It’s a pleasant surprise that he slowly copies your movements. “Do you know how a keurig works?”

He nods slowly.

“Make us some coffee. We got a lot to talk about.”

“So, t-t-that’s why you’re here,” Toby hums as he dumps another unholy amount of sugar into his coffee cup. “I-I thought y-you were some s-squatter in Nat’s h-house,” he admits with a small chuckle before scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

You take in a small breath and nod, a small smile pulling your lips upwards. “This is what you were looking for, huh?” You say as you push the box full of memories towards him.

He puts the cup down and takes it into his hands carefully before hugging it to his chest. He then takes in a deep breath, relaxing. “Y-Yes, this is t-them,” he says quietly. “That’s a-a-all I really w-wanted.”

“And the little figurines?” You hum, a knowing smirk on your face.

Toby flushes slightly and nods once more. “T-They just r-r-reminded me o-of her.” He then places the box in front of him and leans back, his eyes blinking upwards towards the ceiling before he stares up at the ceiling. “I lost h-her that n-night,” he says, voice so soft and scared as if he’s reliving it.

“Toby…”

“That w-w-was our thing, y-y’know? W-We were gonna b-b-be free. My b-b-boss found out,” Toby hisses as he picks one of the letters up and gestures with it, “a-and he s-sent my own c-comrades to…” He closes his eyes to stop the tears from welling within them.

-

Natalie was grabbing her backpack from her room with everything important when Toby came to the doorway and smiled at her. “What’re you doing here?” She chuckled, her green eye flashing with amusement. “Thought you were gonna be getting stuff ready in the kitchen and watching the door.”

“Just d-don’t like being a-a-away from you,” Toby said, a small smirk on his face as he came up to Natalie and brushed a long strand of brown hair from her face. “You’re s-s-such a p-pretty girl,” he complimented.

Natalie blushed slightly and took his hand that rested on her cheek into hers. “Go. I’ll be fine in here.”

“W-Whatever you s-say, p-princess,” he teased before pressing a kiss to her forehead and hesitantly leaving her side.

Natalie rolled her eyes with that smile never leaving her face as she continued getting the last of her things ready for the leave. When she was absolutely certain she was ready to go, she slid the backpack on and headed to the living room. She was ready to go and start a new life with Toby, the only man who ever made her heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” She asked, her arms wrapping around Toby’s waist as he finished his cup of coffee.

“S-Sure am,” he replied before turning around and wrapping her in his arms. “You g-gonna miss t-t-this place?”

“Absolutely not,” Natalie laughed. “I can’t wait to get out-”

What happened next was pure chaos. The back and front door were both breached by men in masks, and Natalie quickly deduced that they were Toby’s comrades. His boss found out. Toby reached for the front table and palmed his hatchets and swung them at the man in the white mask.

“Run!” Toby shouted, pushing Natalie towards the open front door. He watched his heart run out and shake off the backpack to gain speed as she took off into the night. Masky hit him, but he did not flinch.

“Fucking hell, Toby!” A gruff voice shouted.

The young proxy then watched in horror as a flash of yellow zipped out into the night to chase after Natalie. Toby felt worry cloud hsi every movement as he dodged and hit Masky. Hoodie’s specialty was tracking and hunting. He had to get out there to help Natalie.

Toby took a step back then ran into Masky as hard as he could, slamming his leader into the floor before attempting to brutalize, but not kill him. When he was sure that Masky was going to need a moment, he shot up and sprinted out of the house and into the darkened forest to find Natalie. He must’ve prayed the entire time he ran.

He ran over the heavy forest growth and cursed the roots that almost tripped him before he felt his world go quiet.

Natalie was screaming.

Toby heard his name cried out in the trees and his heart sunk down to the forest floor as he ran wildly to the source. He felt hot tears as they rolled down his cheeks as he finally found that same damned hue of yellow waiting for him.

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Hoodie mused as he dug his boot onto Natalie’s skull, making her cry out in pain and fear. Her arms reached out for Toby, his name permanently on her lips.

“You f-fucking bastard!” Toby roared as he lurched forward, attempting to beat Hoodie within an inch of his life when something hard smacked into the back of his head. Toby turned around to see Masky. His brown eyes were full of murder as he stalked towards Toby.

“I should kill you for this,” Masky sneered as he got within arm’s distance of Toby.

Toby glared and swung his hatchet again at Masky, now out for blood when Hoodie slammed his boot back into Natalie’s skull, a crack sending Toby into a fury.

“You won’t touch him if you know what’s good for you,” Hoodie said, his hands loosely hung in his pockets. “Leave him alone and focus on your girl.”

Toby felt chills down his spine as he turned his full attention to Natalie. “My g-g-girl,” he whispered as he fell to his knees to hold her. “M-My s-sweet, sweet g-girl.” His hands shoved Hoodie off of her skull, giving her room to breathe. After that, he turned her over on her back as she cried out in pain. He rested her head on his lap and let her sob.

“Toby,” she croaked in a voice like sandpaper. “Toby, it hurts,” she cried, hands reaching out to his face.

“I know,” he said as he gripped her hand. “I k-know, baby, I k-know.” Tears were pouring from his eyes just to see someone he loved in such pain. “It’ll b-be over soon, I p-promise.” His other hand that wasn’t being gripped by Natalie’s went to pet her hair and give her some comfort.

“Over real soon,” Masky huffed. “You better finish this.” Masky continued. “Or I’ll make Hoodie put a bullet in her skull.”

Toby sent another glare up to Masky and protectively held onto Natalie just a bit harder to not cause her physical body anymore pain.

“We need to run,” Natalie whispered as she reached up to hold Toby’s face. “We can still go-”

Toby hushed her as his eyes scanned over her body. She was beyond repair. Hoodie had broken her legs and bent them at angles that should not exist. “You n-need to r-rest, okay? W-We’ll go in t-t-the morning, I p-promise.”

“You do?” She asked, her beautiful green eye beginning to see the world more in shapes than in

“Y-Yes,” Toby promises. “Have I e-e-ever broken a p-promise to y-you?” He hummed before leaning down as best he could to kiss her forehead. “I l-love you, s-so, so m-much.”

Natalie sleepily giggled and allowed her tears to cascade down her face. “I love you too. To the moon and back?”

“T-To the moon a-a-and back,” he said as the grip she held on his hand weakened.

“Toby, my Toby,” she said softly, her voice growing softer as she repeated the words like a mantra. When her breathing slowed until it was nothing, her hand went limp in Toby’s.

Toby closed his eyes as his heart fell into millions of pieces. He refused to let Natalie go that night, and his teammates, who had acted on behalf of a father who did not love them, let him.

-

“A p-part of m-me died with h-her that night,” Toby says as he lovingly looks over the letters. “I still c-can’t breathe r-right without her.” He closes his eyes and allows his tears to fall. “I d-don’t think I e-e-ever will.”

You get up from your seat and pick it up, silently moving it to rest next to Toby as he begins to cry. You know he must’ve held this one in for so, so long. After planting your chair down next to him, you take him into your arms and allow him to cry.

Toby holds onto you and doesn’t let go. It’s like he views you as a comfort blanket or a teddy bear. And you let him. You let him get it all out.

You feel tears well in your eyes and let them fall too.

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 7

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Bunny!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, Leopard!Jin x human!female!oc, Jimin x female!oc, white Tiger!Jimin x human!female!oc, Taehyung x female!oc, black Tiger!Taehyung x human!female!oc, JK x Jin x Jimin x Taehyung x female!oc

[warnings]

mentions of death, scared Jin, describing of injuries, mentions of an attack, threats

[words]

5.3k (uff, long one 🤭)

[author]

Ahhh, I love this chapter so much. I am so excited to upload all the other chapters in the future, and because I am almost done I now have so much more time to upload. I decided to now update every Wednesday and Sunday.

Do you love Hybrid stories? Do you love Jimin? And do you love both in combination? Then I have the perfect story for you to read! Check out my friend‘s profil @starlightauroras-writes and her story Inferiority complex. It’s super cute and well written. I love reading it and it inspired me so much to write my own story!

I also hope that you like my story. If you do, make sure to leave a like or a comment below. It’s really motivating to see that people like my story.

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 6 ||| chapter 8]

„Found some interesting?” Jin looked up from his cookbook.

He watched the girl as she made her way through the living room, holding a mug in her hands. She carefully put it on the table and took a seat at the other end from the couch, before she pulled her knees up and laid her head onto them.

“I have never seen so much food.” The boy whispered, as he flicked through the pages. “Everything looks so delicious and colourful. How is that possible?”

The girl chuckled when she heard him swarming about all the recipes. Of course, she could never understand his amazement about food and how it looks like, but all his life, he had been locked up in that cell, only getting the minimum amount of food to survive.

It had flashed him the first day he had eaten breakfast with the girl and Jungkook. Everything she had put on the table looks delicious, but he was simply scared to try it, even though Jungkook offered him a few things. But after that day, he had forced himself to not be scared anymore and try that delicious meal the girl had cooked for them.

Sometimes, he had watched how she cut the vegetables or how she flipped the fried meat in the pan. It looked like so much fun to create all the different meals, and he liked the taste afterwards even more. He wanted to try that too.

“You know, my mother gave me that book when I first moved in here.” She said, as she grabbed her mug and took a sip. “When I lived alone, I never found the motivation to put much effort into the meals I cooked. It was only for me, so I never cooked a single meal out of this book. But with the three of us, I think it will worth a try. What do you think?”

Jin just nodded his head, before looking back down at the page he had opened. ‘Lasagne’ stood on the top of the page, followed by a delicious looking picture. He felt his mouth watering form just looking at it.

“Do you want to help me? I actually was about to start preparing dinner.” She suddenly said.

The boy didn’t know what to answer. Though he agreed to stay with her, that didn’t meant that he was trusting her fully. He was thankful for her kindness, but he needed time to actually get used to his new life with his brother and that girl. The fear that she would suddenly change her mind and give them away was still there.

“I – I don’t want to bother you.” He simply whispered, moving his gaze back down towards the book in his lap.

“You are never bothering me, Jin.” She answered quietly, as she stood up from the sofa. “Feel free to join me whenever you like.”

He watched her disappear in the small kitchen. He wanted to try to cook so badly, but he was scared that he would do anything wrong. What if he would mess something up and she would get angry? Would she change her mind and kick them out? Jungkook had told him about his flour incident once. He had said that she wasn’t mad at him at all, but instead that she laughed about how funny he had looked with the flour all over him.

He slowly rose from the sofa and went with baby steps towards the kitchen, clutching the book to his chest. The girl was just about to get all the supplies together when she turned around and looked at the frightened boy standing in the doorway.

“Come in, Jin.” She said while putting the baking dish onto the counter. “I could need your help.”

Jin hesitated but eventually stepped forward. He looked at the book that he still held in his arms, before he opened it and laid it on the counter. Hope read through the recipe, before she turned back and told Jin step by step what to do. She told him how to fry the meat correctly, while she prepared the noodle plates.

“Where is Jungkook even?” She suddenly asked him over the silence. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“I – I think he is in his room.” He quickly answered, while he kept looking at the meat. “He was drawing something in that book when I saw him earlier.”

The girl smiled slightly. It seemed like she knew what the hell Jungkook was scrabbling into that book all day long. Jin had tried to ask him, but his younger brother would always close the book before he had a chance to look in.

“Ahh. I see.” She said and smiled. “I gave him that note book when he was here for a about a week. I told him that he should write in anything he doesn’t want to talk about with me. Like a diary or something.”

Jin nodded. It made sense now that Jungkook wouldn’t let him look into that book. He looked happy when he let his pen slide over the empty pages. Jin could tell that Jungkook looked more happy in general.

“I – I wanted to thank you.” He said shyly, looking up from the pan. He slightly bowed his head when he saw her looking at him over her shoulder. “My brother looks healthier and happier since he has lived here. Thank you.”

She just smiled and bowed back at him, which let him speechless. Never in his life had anyone bowed to him. He turned back towards his pan and pushed the meat around with the wooden spoon. It was only fried meat, but it was already smelling mouth-watering.

“I am happier, too, since you both live here with me.” She suddenly whispered almost to quiet for him to hear. “Shortly after I moved in here, my friends moved far away and my mom died. I love this apartment, but I always felt lonely. I like having your company at dinner time or while watching TV. That’s why I was so sad when you wanted to leave all the sudden.”

Jin looked at the girl back. He could tell that she was really sad, when suddenly he felt her heart beating faster and her scent changing its smell, but not in a bad way. The girl had been smelling good since he had met her a few days ago. She smelled natural, not covered in heavy parfum or deo like the woman he had met in his earlier life.

The boy suddenly felt overwhelmed with her sudden sadness. He didn’t know if it was his fault, and he especially didn’t know what he should do. He pressed his ears flatly against his head and wrapped his long, fluffy tail around his leg.

“I am sorry.” He whispered. “I never meant to – to make you sad.”

“No, don’t feel bad.” She turned around, laying the noodles down on the counter. “I know that you are scared and confused, and that’s okay. But please, never be scared of me, okay?”

They both smiled at each other, before Jin nodded and turned his attention back to the food. When the meat was done, they both prepare the sauce and began to stack up all ingredients into the baking dish.

Jin somehow felt proud of himself when he shoved the dish into the oven. A feeling that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He was still kneeling in front of the oven, watching the lasagne through the small window.

“Listen, Jin.” He looked up at the girl, who was nervously fiddling with her shirt. “I don’t know if you still remember when I told you about the authority and the adoptions, yesterday. I actually made an appointment for tomorrow, but you never told me if you and Jungkook were okay with me adopting you. If not, that’s okay, I won’t be mad, but I want you to know that –“

“I want you to adopt Jungkook.” He quickly answered, standing up from the oven. “I wanted to take him with me because I didn’t know you, but now I want him to stay here. I – I don’t care if you adopt me or if you want to kick me out. I just want him to be safe, and I think that he is safe with you.”

It was true. He didn’t care about what she was going to do with him. All he ever wanted was for this young brother to have a proper and safe home and by now, he was sure that he would be happy living here. Even if that meant that he had to leave.

He gulped. Over the past days, he had to admit to himself that he liked living here. He like the warmth that surrounded him day and night. Not even the floor under his naked feet had felt cold one single time. In addition, she offered him a warm bed, food – safety.

“Jin.” The girl was about to grab his hand that hung loosely by his side, when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. She looked at him for permission, but when he didn’t react, she just grabbed it. He didn’t pull away. “I will never kick you out. You and Jungkook belong together, and I will let you here as long as you want to. Both of you deserve to be here.”

While she talked, she slightly squeezed his larger hand, emphasizing her words. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, as he nodded his head carefully, accepting her offer. He knew that he couldn’t forgot his past from one day to another, and he also knew that a long and difficult road laid ahead him, but he just hoped that he could start his future here, with Jungkook and the girl.

“Thank you.” He whispered, squeezing her hand back. “Thank you, so much.”

Hope yawned when she woke up the next morning. A look at her clock told her that it was too early in the day. She rubbed her heavy eyes and stretched her arms, before she went over to her dresser. While she pulled a new shirt out, when suddenly her nose was filled with a decent smell of freshly baked bread rolls. Quickly, she changed and made her way out of her room to find the source of the aroma in the air.

“What the – “ She gasped when she finally reached the dining room, where she already spotted a fully set breakfast table.

“Hope!” The bunny yelled excitedly when he saw the surprised girl. He stood next to the table and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “We wanted to surprise you, because you are always so nice to us.”

She felt her heart swell with pride. In the kitchen behind the table, she saw Jin standing at the stove and scrambling the eggs in the pan, while he read in his book how to use the right condiments.

“Thank you so much.” The girl said, as she walked up to Jungkook. She hesitated at first, but eventually she wrapped her arms carefully around the bunny’s waist, laying her head on his chest for a few seconds. She really liked his height. “This is a nice surprise.”

She felt him tense for a moment, but he didn’t pushed her away though. When she pulled away, they smiled at each other for another few seconds, before she made her way up into the kitchen, where Jin was about to place the scrambled eggs on a plate.

“Good morning, Jin.” She smile and waved shyly, before she walked up to the water boiler.

“Good morning.” He said back. “I made scrambled eggs. I didn’t know if you like that, but I saw it in the book, and it looked really delicious so I thought that I could try it. But if you don’t like it I will – “

“Jin, it’s okay.” She smiled at his ramblings. “You try whatever you would like, and even if we don’t like it, it’s okay. Then we at least know to not cook it again. It smells amazing, by the way.”

Jin smiled proudly and together, they made their way back to the table, where Jungkook was already waiting. While they were eating, Hope asked the boys what they had planned to do for the day. Jungkook wanted to practice with the guitar again, because he hadn’t had the time in the past days. Jin had planned to read Jungkook’s favourite book, because the younger one had told him nonstop how awesome this book was.

“What are you doing today?” Jungkook asked the girl, as he shoved a spoon full of flakes into his mouth.

“I will got to the authority today, remember?” She watched as the boys looked at her wide eyes. “This means that you will be home alone for a few hours until I am back. Do you think you can do this?”

Both Hybrids looked at each other, before they carefully nodded in union. The girl just smiled, as she took a sip of her coffee. They looked like two teenage boys you would let alone for the very first time in their lives, looking at you with their innocent eyes, while promising that to not break anything. When she looked at Jin, she could tell from the expression on his face that he wanted to say something.

“What are you thinking about, Jin?” She put her mug back on the table. The boy’s head shot up. “I can see something is laying on your tongue.”

“I – “ He coughed and stopped, before clearing his throat again. “I just wanted to ask, if – if you could buy me – only if you want of course – such a note book like Jungkook has. But – but you don’t have to I just – “

“Of course, I will buy you one.” She interrupted him, before he would start rambling. “I am glad that you asked me, Jin. I think it will help you a little bit, but you can also come to me if you want to talk about something. You both know that, right?”

Once again, they nodded in union. When breakfast was over, they made the dishes together like every day, before every one had his time in the bathroom and got ready for the day. The girl brushed her teeth, hair and put one some decent make up.

Once she was done, she watched herself in the mirror. Hope had never thought about what impression she had on other people and especially not on boys. Never in her life, she had been the type of girl that boys would talk to. She was always the nerdy, shy girl in the first row, that answered the teachers questions and that would actually do her homework properly. But now, she lived with two boys together.

And those boys weren’t even normal. They had extra sensitive ears and noses and – wait. She sniffed at her shirt. Did she actually smell good, or should she rather put on some perfume? None of the boys ever mentioned something about her scent, beside Jungkook who had once complained about her smelling like Brian after he gave her his clothes. She smiled at this memory.

But still, she wondered what the boys think of her. She didn’t want them to think that she was ugly or that she would let herself go. If they thought of her as pretty? They are both Korean, maybe they are more fond of girl with dark hair. She sighed and laid the hairbrush down, before she made her way out of the bathroom. Now, there was no time to think about that.

“Boys! I will leave now.” She yelled through the apartment, as she grabbed her purse and jacket.

Immediately, a door was pulled open, followed by fast footsteps. Jungkook was the first on to run around the corner, Jin came after him a few seconds. The younger one had his ears hanging loosely next to his head, as he made his way over and stopped right in front of her. He looked at her sceptically, before his expression changed to a worried face.

“Don’t look so scared, Kookie. I won’t be gone for long.” She smiled at him, before she swung her jacket over her shoulders. “I put a list of numbers on the table. Mine is the first one. If something happens and you don’t know what to do, you can dial the number in the phone and press the green button. Don’t burn anything and don’t open the door to anyone. I have my own keys to come in, so leave the door closed, don’t matter who he says he is, okay?”

“Okay.” They both said, as she grabbed her keys and opened the door.

“See you later.” She smiled and waved at them, before she made her way down the stairs and out of the building. To say she wasn’t nervous to leave them alone would be a lie, but she also trusted them to not burn her apartment down while she was gone.

On her way, she mentally went through all the thing on her to-do-list. After her appointment in the authority, she would go and buy a new note book for Jin. Then, she would buy a matching frame the photos on her wall and print the picture she had taken of her two boys.

Her boys. She smiled at those words. Everything just seemed to be so unreal. 5 weeks ago, she would never had guessed that she would end up adopting two Hybrids at the same time. Not that she would complain, though. She really liked having the two of them around, also if she hadn’t known them for long. It just felt so right having them around.

After a minutes of driving, she finally reached the authority building. The appointment with the woman went over pretty strange. Everyone could have told that this woman didn’t like her job at all. She seemed to be impolite, uninterested and bored, as she gave Hope all the papers to sign.

“What are you planning on doing with two Hybrids at the same time?” The woman had asked. “The bunny won’t be worth so much, but I bet the leopard brings a lot of money at a fight club.”

It had taken the girl anything to not scream at such a stupid statement, but unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it.

But this scenario was just another proof that something in this world had to change. Starting with her term papers, which deadline would end in just two weeks. Two more weeks and she hopefully would be a lawyer to safe and protect all Hybrids that would need her help in this cruel world. She would fight for any single one of them.

She quickly bought all the other things, before she made her way back to the car. Because the parking spots were rare in the big city, she had parked her car a little bit outside on a not so popular parking space. While she was walking over the gravel surface, she suddenly felt a shiver running down her spine

She quickly turned around, but there was no one but here at the parking space. She was alone. Hope pushed her purse closer to her body, before she turned back and kept walking faster to her car. Normally, she wasn’t the one to be scared while walking out alone or at night. When she was younger, her mom had sent her to a self-defending course, but she didn’t know if she really could defend herself if a man twice her size would attack her. Right now, she really wished that Jin and Jungkook were with her to protect her. She bet that no one would dare to treat her if she was in the company of two strong men.

As she was just a few meters away from her car, she suddenly heard fast and heavy footstep running up behind her. She wanted to turned around, but it was already too late. That someone had pushed her forward hardly, before he grabbed her purse and pulled away. Luckily, she could catch herself before her body could slam onto the ground. She let out a yelp, but instinctively grabbed the strap of her purse harder.

“Stop it! Let go!” She yelled at her attacker, who was furiously pulling at her purse.

Everything went so fast. When she had yelled for him to stop, the boy suddenly let go of her purse, making them both fall to the ground. She yelped when her bum hit the floor hard, but immediately, she clutched the piece of fabric harder to her chest, crawling back a few inches. If he would had taken the purse, he would also had taken the adoption papers she just got for Jungkook and Jin.

Her attacker wasn’t in a better position. When he had hit the ground, he let out a loud whimper, before he immediately crawled back until his back hit a parking car. He had curled himself up, hid his face protected by his hands and whispered something over and over again.

The girl gulped, as her heart seemed to jump out of her chest. She wanted to get up and run away, but her body seemed like it was paralyzed. With wide eyes, she stared at the person in front of her.

The boy had pressed himself tightly against the parking car behind him. He was clearly more scared of the girl than she was scared of him, even though he had just tried to steal her purse. His whole body was shaking under his baggy and ripped clothes, while his feet and hands were ripped and bloody. She couldn’t see his face, but over his dark brown hair, she saw the pair of white, round ears being flatly pressed against his head, while his fluffy, white and black striped tail was wrapped around his trembling body.

“H – Hey.” With a shaking voice, she tried to talk to him. “A – Are you okay?”

When he heard her voice, he curled himself further together, while he kept whispering ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ over and over again. Hope didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, he looked so fragile and scared that she just wanted to run up and hug him, but on the other hand, he wanted to attack her, which meant that he could be dangerous.

“Hey, I – I am not mad at –“ She tried to keep her voice low and smooth, when she suddenly was interrupted by someone else.

“Miss, are you okay? Do you need me to call the police?” A man in his 40’s stood at the end of the parking space, looking shocked at the girl on the ground. When his eyes fell on the Hybrid, he took a big step back. “Did this beast attack you, Miss? I will call the police, don’t move!”

Before he had the chance to grab his cell phone, the girl shot up from the ground.

“No!” She yelled and stepped in front of the trembling boy on the ground. She tried to sound as normal as possible, when she started talking again. “No. There is no need to call the police. He belongs to me. Thank you, though.”

The man looked confused between the Hybrid and the girl, his hands were still holding the small smartphone.

“But he attacked you.” He sceptically said.

“No, he didn’t. He just –“ The girl coughed. She needed to find an explainable excuse for that little incident, or else the man would call the police. “Ehm – He just tripped and accidently pushed me forward. Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay.” He simply said and walked up to a black car. “Make sure to punish him the way he deserves it. Stupid animal.”

“I will.” The girl just whispered, hoping that he would buy her lie and just leave,

Then man didn’t look convinced at all. He asked her again if she needed help, but when she said ‘no’ once again, he eventually let go of the topic, stepped in his car and drove away as quickly as possible. The girl let out a deep breath. She didn’t know why she defended the Hybrid, but she couldn’t let the police take him away.

“Hey, you.” She kneeled back on the ground. “I don’t want to hurt you. I promise.”

Somehow, that scene reminded her of the day she found Jungkook. The boy kept trembling and muttering, but he never moved an inch. The girl didn’t let go, thought. She kept talking to him in a soft voice, telling him that she wasn’t mad and that she wouldn’t hurt him. Somehow, it even worked. After a few minutes, the boy’s shanking got less, and he eventually dared to look up at her.

Like Jin and Jungkook, the boy had Korean face features. He had deep brown eyes, a straight nose and beautiful, pump lips that were bruised at one side.

“I am sorry.” He whispered in an now clearer, but creaking voice, studying the girl’s face closely.

“It’s okay.” She whispered back. Her hands had stopped from shaking, as the boy talked. He didn’t seemed to be dangerous. “I am not mad. Can you tell me what happened to you? What is your name?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept shaking his head, while his hands started shaking again. He mumbled something under his breath what sounded like ‘Hyung’. The world sounded familiar in her ears. Jungkook called Jin Hyung. Maybe he was talking about his brother.

“Hyung? Your brother?” She tried to understand what he was referring to, and indeed, when she asked him about his brother, he nodded his head.

He looked over the parking space, before he lifted his finger and pointed into the old, rotten parking garage. The building looked like it would break down any minute. It was dangerous to go in there.

“Is your brother in there?” She asked in a shaking voice, not sure if she wanted to know the answer or not.

The boy nodded quickly, mumbling the words ‘Hyung’ and ‘hurt’. Her heart began to start beating faster again. Of course, she would not just leave the poor boy alone while his brother was injured. She had seen Jungkook’s reaction when his brother was hurt, and she also remember Jin’s word, as he had begged her to take in Jungkook. She could guess what was going on in the Hybrid in front of her.

“I will help your brother, okay?” She stood up from the ground, looking over at the rotten building. “I will help you.”

Hope trailed after the boy though the parking garage. After the boy had told her about his brother being injured, she had gotten her first aid kit out of the car and followed him through the endless hallways. She wasn’t sure if Jimin – he had told her his name a few minutes ago – really had a brother that was in here. Maybe he had told her a lie to entice her into this building. But on the other hand, why would he do this?

She looked at the hybrid in front of her. He was smaller than Jin and Jungkook, but still taller than her. He was thin, with an oversized shirt and shorts that hung loosely over his body. They kept walking for about 5 minutes, until the girl suddenly heard a voice.

“Jimin?” Someone’s voice came from another corner of the building, not far away from them. It was definitely a male voice. “Jimin!” The voice suddenly got louder. “Someone is here Jimin! Jimin!”

Jimin started running into the direction the voice was coming from. He took one last turn, before he kneeled down next to another person. The boy leaned against the cold wall in the corner of the room. The other boy’s clothes were dirty and ripped like Jimin’s, and he held his bruised and swollen arm against his upper body. When he spotted the girl, he tensed up.

“Go away, human!” He screamed, as he showed of his sharpened fangs in the corners of his mouth.

The girl took a step back. Those fangs were sharp and big enough to rip out her throat. The boy tried to sit himself up further, pushing Jimin behind him with his healthy arm.

“No, Tae.” Jimin had laid his hands on his brothers arm. “She wants to help you. She – “

“I don’t need help.” He hissed back, pressing his black ears against his head. “And especially not from her. She is bad! She is a human, Jimin. Stay away from her.”

“But Tae, you are hurt and she has something to treat your wound.” Jimin was looking deeply in his brothers eyes. „Please, Tae. Please.”

Tae’s nose trails went wide, as his eyes flickered between Jimin’s pleading eyes. It was obvious that he was scared about his brother’s safety, and from the way he spoke about human it was clear that they had made some pretty bad experiences. He removed his eyes from Jimin, before he stared closely at her. After a few seconds, he growled loudly and turned his head away.

Jimin quickly gestured for the girl to step closer, as his brother looked out of the giant window, still growling.

“Okay.” She whispered to herself, as she kneeled down in front of the boys. “My name is Hope. I am not a doctor, but I think I can help you though. I will have to check your arm to see if it’s broken or not. I will try to be careful, okay?”

He didn’t look at her. He pressed his lips tightly against each other, only the growl could be heard. To say she wasn’t scared would be a lie, but maybe if he felt her heartbeat he would realized that she was more feared than dangerous.

Carefully, she laid her hands on his cold arm. Immediately, he hissed sharply. He parted his lips, flashing out his sharp incisors, as he licked his tongue over them. Hope forced herself not to look at them, but keep going instead. Jimin on his other side had taken Tae’s hand, squeezing it slightly.

“Okay, I think it’s not broken.” She opened her first aid kit and pulled out a bandage. “But it’s infected and slightly sprained. I will wrap a bandage around it, but we will definitely have to clean it up, before it will get really bad. If you would come home with me I – “

“No!” Tae pulled his arms abruptly away, looking angrily at the girl, as she fell back on her bum because of his sudden movement. “We won’t go with you, human.”

The girl’s eyes flickered between him and Jimin. She know that Tae was scared, but his injury definitely needed to be threatened, or else he would catch a really bad infection. In addition, the nights would get cold, too cold to sleep in a rotten parking garage.

“Jimin.” The girl hoped that she could at least talk some sense into him. “He will get worse if his wound will get infected more and more, and it’s cold here. Please, I just want to look over your injures at home. You can leave anytime you want, but please, stay the night with me.”

Even a blind one could tell that Jimin was torn between his brother and Hope. With tears in his eyes, he looked at his brother, squeezing his hand.

“Tae, please let her help us.” He whispered, laying his head on the other boy’s shoulder, rubbing his nose over the sensitive skin there. “I can’t lose you, Tae. Please.“

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