#i thought it would’ve been terrible but it went surprisingly well ..?

[laurrelise]

guys i’ve drawn lila some more

decided to draw 2 of her saddest scenes for what reason????????

i actually don’t have an answer i just liked the references

(also here are the references)

and i can’t remember if ive dropped these here before but i did some pencil drawings of her a whiiiiiile ago and im actually really proud of them so i’ll just leave them here regardless :)

v also their references

[leviraaaaaa]

𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭

𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵e𝘭𝘭

Levi let out a sigh of relief the moment your silhouette appeared through the shadows, tensed shoulders relaxing. He turned his head, all focus shifting instantly to you.

“You.” He exhaled, a hint of exasperation in his tone, indicating that the little time spent without your absence had not been very fun. “Where have you been?”

“Hi. Went to scout.” You answered, reaching the little campfire to stand beside Levi. All your friends sat circling it. Levi’s subtle, not very subtle eagerness at your arrival seemed to have triggered something, making the already guffawing crowd of people laugh even harder. Concluded with Levi’s sour face, it wasn’t very hard to guess what the subject of amusement must have been.

“Oh, are we bullying Levi again?” You beamed, nudging Levi’s leg with your foot, signaling him to give you space. “Scoot over. I want to join too.”

Levi shot a glare, but shifted to let you sit beside him. As another wave of laugher sparked through your friends, you plopped down on the grass, folding your legs. It was a chilly night, and everyone wanted to stay near the fire, therefore, the circle was so tightly formed around the fire, you could barely squeeze yourself between Levi and Nifa.

“Sit on my lap, why don’t you?” Levi grumbled, scowling and squirming a little at the close contact.

“What? It’s cold. And you’re warm.” You said as you sat down. “What are you so pissy for anyways?” You pressed yourself tighter, curling yourself up against him, uncaring of the poisonous gaze. You’ve learnt a long ago, half of Levi's words didn’t mean shit, that if he actually was uncomfortable, you wouldn’t even be here right now, he would’ve broken a bone or two. Levi’s personal space wasn’t something he let anyone come through, but you’ve been an exception for that for a long time.

And he was warm. A warmth that surprisingly only the cold, cold man was capable of.

And as always, the low protest died soon and he adjusted to let you lean against him.

“Hange.” He muttered, answering your previous question. “They’re trying to convince people to marry me.”

“Wonderful.” You grinned, “I volunteer.”

“I hate you.”

Cue for a very drunk Hange cracking up again, leading the others to join in. Even Erwin, ever regal and solemn, couldn’t seem to be able to hold the small smile from forming. With Hange’s contagious laughter and Levi’s scowl, it was impossible to.

“Oh why’d you let Hange drink again?” You laughed, watching them as Moblit struggled, trying to pry the bottle out of the section commander's grasp. “They're gonna be terrible to deal with tomorrow.”

“They insisted it was one sip.” Erwin said solemnly.

“Well, that sure seems like one sip.”

“But seriously though,” Nanaba piped in, shoulders still shaking with the waves of laughter. “Levi’s got all that spunk, but no bitches.”

“Stubborn shortie-” Hange's voice was cut of as they hiccupped

“Shut up. All of you. Please.” Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “

“Point stands. In your mid-thirties, Levi. How long are you going to wait?”

“Why,” He huffed. “Are you people so insistent on analyzing my personal life every damn time? Do you not have anything better to do?”

“Only well wishers.” She gave him a smug smile. “That’s what friends do, they care for each other.”

“No. You just want to give me shit.”

“Well, that too.” She shrugged.

“Iffff—if anything,” Hange stumbled in, rubbing their eyes. She glanced at you pointedly. “You could at least date her. That’d be nice.”

“So I keep telling him.” You feigned a disappointed sigh.

“Don’t fucking egg them on.” He hissed, face heating up at the suggestion. How could they even think it’d work out? He thinks, against the thoughts tugging. Ridiculous. They were ridiculous. You were just as ridiculous. So what does he do with this ridiculous fucking feelin–

“Oh but look,” Hange leaned forward, squinting to watch the two of you, their glasses reflecting off the fire and casting shadows on their face. “ Do mine eyes deceive me or is Ackerman over there blushing?”

“No.” The denial was quick. A little too quick.

“I confirm.” Nanaba smirked. Miche grunted.

“No.”

“Oh, Levi.” Erwin’s eyes glimmered amusement.

“I will hit you. Don’t even go there.”

The roar of laughter only grew louder.

And the night rolled on, the nonsense bickerings and banters continued. Friendly faces and friendly voices, joking and teasing and laughing without a care in the world. Bottles clinked, the firelight glinting on them. At one point, you and Hange started singing some stupid song you’ve heard in the fair, rocking back and forth with the music. And you weren’t certain, but you could swear there was a hint of melody even in the wind blowing by. And it was cold, but with Levi beside you, you were okay. But that was okay, it was okay. More than okay, really. The happiness was overwhelming.

.

“You know,” Hange called out suddenly. They had taken to fully sprawl out on the grass. They’d been quiet a while, and you had thought they must’ve passed out, but appears not.

Everyone turned to look at them.

“This is nice isn’t it?” They mumbled, blinking up to the sky. “I mean, sure, we might die tomorrow, but this is nice. I wouldn’t really mind dying.”

“You know, what would’ve been nice, Hange?” Nanaba said, watching Hange. And despite the words itself, she was smiling. “To not mention death.”

“I know but,” Hange sat up, grinning. “This is not too bad as a last night of your life right? I wouldn’t mind.”

And for a second, no one spoke. Perhaps, it was because all were drunk more or less but that hit harder in that moment. Unsaid words were spoken in silence, the wind carrying the oaths away. And even Levi’s eyes had softened.

Only Hange could say words like that with that face, you thought. You weren’t sad, not really. Because Hange was right. Being a scout meant learning to appreciate every breath you can take, and nights like this were as good as they’d come.

“Aww Hange.” You sighed, grinning back. “Cheesy much? You’re making Levi all squirmy.”

“No, I am not—” Levi’s protests were buried as the group jumped in yet again another session of Levi leg-pulling.

But despite it all, Levi thought.

Pissheads, all of them were. But nevertheless.

He watched you with the corner of his eyes, watching you as you laughed your head off to something Eld said, shoulders shaking, the firelight making your eyes glitter. And you were so close, so close, he could hardly breathe. And the urge to wrap an arm around you, to pull you closer. To feel you against him.Would that be so wrong of him? If he leaned close, would you pull away? But it’s okay, he thinks.

Hange was right.

It’s okay if he dies tomorrow. He wouldn’t really mind.

He didn’t really mind right now either.

He finds it strange that he didn’t really mind it. Any of it.

He didn’t mind Hange or Nanaba or any of them.

He didn’t mind your stupid little jokes, clearly made with the intention to piss him off. He didn’t really mind that you were so close. He didn’t mind that your head on his shoulder. He didn’t mind a lot of things that he thinks he would’ve minded if it was anyone else but you.

He doesn’t really know how it works. He doesn’t like thinking about the strange little feelings in his heart that tugged everytime you smiled, or the way his stomach tightened whenever you flirted with him so casually.

And maybe one day he’ll tell you. Maybe he won’t

Does it matter? Is it not enough to only have you alive and close?

He’s here now. With everyone and with you.

He’s home.

[kewpikayo]

"Partners...?" Human Alastor x Reader

Chapter 2: WC: 5,109

I dedicate this second chapter to the sweet @ritualofcirice, the exquisite @lumikello24, the utterly superb @fraugwinska and the fantastic @macabr3-barbi3 . Thank you all so much for making this event such a pleasure to be a part of. Hope you enjoy part two!!

Here's Chapter 1: Team Player.

your at Chapter 2: Left Hanging.

here's Chapter 3: Burning Alive. Warnings & Tags: Violence, typical bloodshed associated with Hazbin hotel and Dead by Daylight. Alastor still being a little shit, etc. death of minor characters

Multiple hours passed until mid morning became late afternoon as the sun was continuously locked away in the realm of mist and shadow.

At least the darkness provided ample cover for further protection, but it was terrible to navigate the necessary equipment needed to fix the machines. Luckily, you had a miniature flashlight from your time pilfering through stray boxes. It was currently held under your chin to create a steady light source for your tedious task.

Despite your unfortunate hooking accident and the pain it still caused you, your progress with the generators had gone rather smoothly. You had somehow managed to get three out of the five generators up to working condition; plus or minus the few instances when hiding in a locker or behind brush became necessary. 

For the most part, your partner seemed to be carrying out his delegated task quite well. At least that’s what you assumed. You hadn’t heard from him in hours, but the looming threat of capture or death had somehow lessened in severity. It had been quiet…

Maybe striking a last minute deal with that strange, smiling guy was the best rash decision you had ever made .

As your bloody, oil soaked hands worked meticulously, your mind strayed to less demanding thoughts.

The asshole of a stranger, Alastor, was unbearable to say the least. His sharp wit was easily comparable to the nice, bloody blade he had acquired when he chose to ignore you. The insufferable bastard didn’t even bother to ask if you were okay or needed help, but just decided to leave you hanging. Literally.

Regardless of his initial purposeful ignorance of your person, perhaps you made the decision to reach out to him not only out of necessity, but also for the sole reason that he looked like the type to have his shit together. 

You remembered the dark man stood tall with obvious pride in the presentation he held for himself. It was as if he was opulently adorned in only the best of linens. He was a bit too pompous for your tastes, but you had to admit the man did have pretty privilege. Alastor was indeed a looker. 

Surprisingly, no blood was to be seen on him and his smile had never left his face even when he had seemed cross with you. It was a peculiar habit. There was just something about that grin of his and how it continually cast a supernatural glow to his warm skin. It was almost as if it was glued or stitched to his features permanently. It was creepy; and you hated how effortlessly charming it was.

His eyes spoke of a different tale, however. They were dauntless and expressive; amber jewels that were attuned to his face in unwavering self assurance hidden behind gentle, dark curls. It was obvious he was of the calculating, intellectual sort. Maybe that was why you felt comfortable enough to beg him to help you. You were assured he had a plan brewing under that steadfast grin, and you wanted in on whatever strategic formulation his mind deemed worthy to conduct.

He was a survivor, a victor, and you had always liked being a part of the winning team. Acquiring a partnership with another like minded, capable individual was only the most logical step forward. Anyone within their right mind would’ve done so.

Wiping your brow of the sweat that accumulated under the ball cap you donned, you went back into an intense focus. There was no time to daydream. How much time had you lost already? You didn’t know, but you did know too many valuable minutes had already passed you by. It was one moment too many to risk doing so a second time.

Rewiring your focus, the specific cable in your grasp was of the stubborn sort; unwilling to bend to the plan you had for it with a burning passion. 

You readjusted the flashlight underneath your chin and moved closer to have a better look, wincing when the twinge in your shoulder wouldn’t go away. You cursed to yourself, frustration dripping into your vocabulary.

“Havin’ a wrench would’ve made this a helluva lot easier…Dammit…Just connect, you stupid wires…It literally isn’t that hard…It’s not rocket science!”

As if a resistant response to your furious words, sparks flew into your face with a loud, rambunctious pop. You jolted backwards with a colorful curse, a sting in your fingertips. The light and sound startled you; and with a wince your expression contorted into a deeper scowl due to the pain.

“Shit!”

Waving your hand, a harsh hiss escaped from under your breath as your fingers were brought to your lips. You bit back the pain, shutting your eyes and blinking back tears as the taste of blood and oil flooded over your tongue. The blackest smoke quickly bellowed into your vision as the bold smell of gasoline was the only scent available to you. It was to the point that any oxygen had been snuffed out and made breathing an even greater hardship. 

You stifled multiple coughs. The force of each constricted your chest painfully; each spasm threatening the contents of your stomach to make an unsightly appearance. Too enraptured in retaining air, you failed to hear the soft snap of a twig behind you.

However, upon calming down from the attack on your lungs, the feeling of wind and metal brushing against your ear rivaled the active popping of the nearby generator.

You were left stunned as you stared at the butcher knife lodged in the wooden pallet next to your head. Raising a tentative hand, you brushed your fingers against the edge of your ear and hissed when you felt the sting and the promise of blood. 

Another knife launched itself into the wood again, landing closer to your head this time.

If the first knife didn’t get your attention, then that one certainly did.

You whipped your head to look behind you, beholding an ominous figure in a vibrant trench coat. The fog swirling around the marsh mixed in with his clothing to the point it was hard to make out who it was, but the shadow looming over you was so profound that the fear the sight instilled held you firmly in place.

That was until the threat took another dagger from his sheath and stepped forward with ill intent.

“Oh fuc-!...”

A third dagger was thrown in your direction with the intent to hit its mark as one of the Entity’s champions boldly pursued you. Jolting backwards, the dagger thrown managed to nick your cheek in the process of piercing into the nearest pallet.

As your most recent threat, referred to as the trickster by the other survivors,  rearmed himself and prepared another blade with a bold laugh at your misfortune;  you took the chance to flee. Scrambling to your feet, adrenaline powered your movements as your converses dredged deep grooves into the mud. You slipped, but not before pushing a pallet over to maintain some distance between you and your attacker. 

Hissing in pain, you grabbed at your shoulder as you haphazardly continued to run, your breath leaving you in frantic spurts. Your legs had a will of their own, knocking you into every spare piece of wood or type of debris imaginable. It took great effort just to keep yourself on your feet.

Almost to your destination, hope was ripped from you as your foot got lodged in an unnoticeable hole, twisting uncomfortably to the point a guttural growl turned gasp escaped you as you hit the ground. Hard. 

The rest of your air deflated from your lungs and into your  surroundings as your ball cap was knocked from your head in your descent; flying and disappearing amongst the weeds. You cursed. There was no time to search for it. It was lost to you now.

Amidst your thoughts, somehow your rib cage  managed to land on the largest, sharpest rock known to man. You yelped in pain, assured yet another of countless bruises would appear on your skin within the hour.

Dazed and light headed from pain, but the last of your adrenaline pushing you to your limits; You grabbed at the soil and lunged  yourself forward with strenuous effort. You were so close to your designated hiding spot, and now that option was taken from you as well.

You wouldn’t give up, though. Not that easily.

Determined, you crawled to the next best thing: A spare pallet with just enough room underneath to provide some sort of cover. The entrance of the hole was covered with weeds and the occasional cattail. Perfect. Cover was just what you needed. 

Panting , you willed yourself to continue on, elbows digging into the ground to gain leverage in the moist soil as you hurriedly crawled in desperation. You were almost there. You were sure you would make it..

You had to. 

Unfortunately, your pursuit of safety was denied when the trickster caught up with you. You managed to crawl a few more inches to safety when you felt hands grab at your sides. You looked behind you and in a panicked fury started kicking your legs and wiggling to struggle free; but to no avail. Fate has other plans for you, much to your terror and disgruntlement.

The trickster hoisted you up and had you hanging from his shoulders like a light, limp sack of fruit. It irritated you how frail you were.  Still, delicate and bruisable as you were, you would not go down without a fight.

So fight you did, kicking and hitting any reachable orifice or weak point you could. You managed to hit your target every so often with sufficient force, but it was as if the man was made of impenetrable stone. Nothing you did weakened your kidnapper and it proved useless to struggle. Your attempts just made you more tired in the end and you needed to conserve your strength. 

Still, your fierce spirit wouldn’t be silenced and you wouldn’t give up your fight for survival just yet. Thinking it your best, and only, option; your voice illuminated the space around you. Your words ignited your attacker’s hearing in colorful, torrential succession as you also continued in your physical attack.

“Let me go, you fucker!! Put. Me. DOWN!!!”

This only supplied the trickster something to laugh at, your voice reverberating through his useless ears as your words came back void. To no surprise, your request was denied with yet another muted, sadistic chuckle. Great. Why did you think that would work? 

You continued in your struggle and berating words until you were nearing your destination; a particularly rusty hook that already had fresh blood from a recent victim acquired on the metal. You blanched at the sight. You didn’t have the possibility of acquiring Tetanus or blood poisoning on your agenda that evening, or ever, but you guess fate certainly didn’t give a damn. 

This particular hook was beneath The Pale Rose; and unfortunately was a good bit away from your nearly completed generator. You hoped that somehow one of the other survivors would take a hint and aid you in finishing your work, or at least come to your aid. It was unlikely though. The majority of people, if in your predicament, would’ve certainly attuned themselves to the idea of “Every man for themselves.” You certainly did. You tried rescuing someone before and it only resulted in your first capture. You wouldn’t make that same mistake again. Not without getting something in return.

There was only one other person you hoped would come for you, and even then it was still a long shot of if he would actually help you or not. From your short time of knowing him, Alastor has proved himself to be a wildcard and a man of conviction, but only if it suited his own needs or desires.

Left with no other options, you shamelessly screamed your partner’s  name with all the graceless volume in your lungs. 

“ALASTOR!!! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?! I NEED YOU!!”

Your desperate plea was met with nothing but your own continued screams as your injured shoulder was violently shoved into the rusty hook you spotted earlier.

The screams that left you didn’t sound like your own voice. They were raw and saturated with agony, foreign in pitch and deeply feral in cadence. Desperate, a shrill shriek left you as the tendons and veins in the muscles of your shoulder were ripped anew. Black dots adorned themselves to your vision, your head light from blood loss. You swore you even saw stars in your disoriented state. 

Before the worry of passing out or worse could visit your thoughts, the entity's claws were upon you. The sharp blades of horror forced you into a life or death struggle as your captor stepped away to watch your promised demise with glee. 

Gritting your teeth, you glared at the trickster, stubbornly clinging to life. With the last of your strength, you held the claws aiming to puncture holes into your chest and abdomen at bay as exhaustion loomed over you.

With a fury so profound you swore you saw your attackers eyes widen in surprise, you snarled out the most putrid threat you could think of in your pain. Your grip tightened on the entity’s claws as you pushed against the trap.

“I hope you fuckin’ die and burn in the hottest part of Hell, you stupid ass piece of shit! You’re lucky I’m hangin’ here otherwise I’d kill you myself! I-I’d gut you like a fish and rip out your eyeballs and… And feed you to the gators!!! Mark my words, I’ll make you wish you were dead!!! ”  

“Ha! What poetry~! But it would be quite hard to make one wish for death when they have already experienced it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Not expecting the figure in front of you to slump over dead, your eyes widened when you saw your partner appear out of nowhere to pull a knife from the trickster’s back. Alastor’s blood soaked hands tightly gripped around his weapon of choice as he gently disposed of his latest victim’s blood on his dark denim jeans. 

“Now, this fellow’s descent into the nine circles can most assuredly be arranged. It is plausible that it is already well under way…”

When did Alastor show up? Amidst the chaos and trying to keep conscious, somehow he had appeared before you instantaneously. Perhaps he was just very close by when you called out to him? 

Glancing toward you, Alastor chuckled as his smile grew in smug satisfaction; curiosity glinting back at you from his calculated gaze. You continued fighting off the iron claws in silence, hoping seeing you in a struggle would alert him that his assistance was most definitely needed. You bit back a frustrated growl when he failed to notice your hidden cry for help. Perhaps he just actively ignored you again, preferring to continue talking instead.

“Though I’m sure it would’ve been such  a nice sight to witness your spin on taking out the trash… It pains me to know I won’t have the opportunity to see you do so…”

Despite his words, Alastor looked chipper with the outcome that had transpired. The man stood tall, his cream button up and blue jeans soaked  in viscera and gore, blood splatter decorating his spectacles and face. His conquest to gain the lives of the killers you requested most likely was going smoothly. Good. The more he killed, the greater assurance that you wouldn’t be.

What was surprising about his presentation, however, was that you could tell the blood wasn’t his. You thought that his close contact with various types of killers around the premises would have at least scored him a few wounds to keep as souvenirs; but he managed to surprise you yet again. He didn’t even look injured in the slightest. You could tell from the way his expression was lively and full of enjoyment that he was high off of the chaos, obviously receiving great pleasure from his conquest, and even more so about his most recent kill…

 Just how had he managed to do so well? You supposed that wasn’t important. What did matter was that your partner was taking the deal seriously. 

Choosing to ignore the unhinged vibes Alastor was giving off,  you scoffed and did your utmost to hide the tremendous pain you felt in your shoulder. Talking was getting very hard to do without pausing for much needed air. With each moment that passed, the Entity’s claws encroached closer to your person, making an exhausting task even more strenuous. 

You gasped as your hand slipped from one of the iron grips holding you firmly in place, the pain in your shoulder immense as the hook tugged on your overly sensitive flesh. You were fighting for your life and Alastor didn’t even seem to care. What kind of partner was he?

You supposed you couldn’t blame him. He had mentioned he always preferred solo work. Even so, anyone with even a slim amount of sanity would see you were very much in need. Your patience was about up, your struggle using the majority of your brain power. Words were hard to form at the moment. Brevity became necessary.

“Yeah, well he… Woulda looked like he does now…Dead…Stupid and…Fucked up…You did…A good job, I guess…”

“My, Is that praise I hear? Glad to know you approve of my efforts. I’m flattered.”

Alastor’s smile couldn’t have been more smug even if he tried. You rolled your eyes at the sight; stifling a low groan from both annoyance and affliction as the claws inched closer to your abdomen and collarbones. Sweat poured down your brow in your attempts at escape. You were too exhausted at this point to really call him out on his bullshit; and you really didn’t want to risk him leaving you on that hook again. Playing it safe, you decided to ignore his obvious attempts to get under your skin in hopes that he would lend you aid this time around.

“Yeah…Yeah, you don’t gotta mention it. Now…Are ya gonna help me out and… Let me down or…Or what? We’re wastin’ time…”

Still tall and poised, Alastor tilted his head as he looked at you, placing his blade back into its sheath, a question to counter your own on his breath.

“Just how many times do you intend to be captured this evening, dear? You certainly are a bloody mess, aren’t you?”

Scoffing, you stared at the first three buttons on Alastor’s shirt, blood splatter staining his fabric to ruin. He looked how you felt, every flinch and twitch of your muscles shooting agony through your body as your own blood created an ocean down your jean jacket. 

You groaned. It was too much energy wasted to look anywhere else.

“No Shit….Look who’s talkin’, but no, seriously… Are your arms not workin’ or somethin’?…Let me down…”

Wincing, you used the majority of your remaining strength to readjust your body weight on the hook. Another hiss of agony leaked through your gritted teeth. Your attempts were enough to bring brief tears to the corners of your eyes. You blinked them away. You wouldn’t let him see you cry.

“We’re…Supposed to be partner’s, right? Don’t just….leave me hangin’….”

“Ha! Good one…”

Another encore of enthused chuckles escaped him as he crossed his arms. It still didn’t look like he was in any hurry to come to your aid. Shocker.

“...Unfortunately, you are missing a simple, vital phrase…It’s rather rude to forget it, wouldn’t you agree?”

Once again you were left dumbfounded by the man’s words. What did he mean? You were left in tremendous confusion until it hit you. The bastard was wanting you to beg him for his help. Again.

Swallowing as much pride as you could spare, as well as the urge to let out another scream, you let your head hang as low as it would go without causing anymore needless damage to your shoulder. Your hands still firmly grasped around the claws of the greedy Entity.

“...Please…”

Without seeing him, you could tell he was smirking just by the way his voice sounded, conceited and self important. Vain.

“Please what?”

A low growl entered your voice in a mixture of exasperation and discomfort as you looked up at your so-called partner with a deep scowl. You bit into your cheek before uttering yet another shameful, pitiful plea. You absolutely hated how weak it made you feel.

“Please…If you’d be so…gracious as to lend me your….Assistance…I'd be so appreciative…”

You wanted to make sure that Alastor knew you were pissed.  The words you managed to mutter were drenched in so much sarcasm that it brought an obvious, irritated twitch to your partner’s eye. Good. He deserved it after refusing to help you for a second time. If he thought it was a burden to help you, you would show him just how much of an inconvenience you could be, should he continue to refuse to come to your aid.

Alastor remained silent. Another claw formed on the hook, causing you to have to split your efforts of keeping the iron talons at bay; one hand for each claw that formed. 

Frustration flooded into you to the point you let out a shout and another string of vibrant  curses.

“Arrghhhh!  Just. Get. Me. down! I’m bleedin’ out, if ya haven’t noticed!”

“Oh, I’ve noticed. I do think the color red suits you rather well…”

Yet another vexing pause was seen on his part as he shifted his weight from one hip to another, his arms still crossed and his gaze curious as he stood infront of you, tantalizingly close but resistant and mute to your continued pleas.

“Besides, what was your earlier phrase? Ah, yes…I do believe it was ‘“Fuck you. I’ll just do it myself.”’? Where has all that spirit gone? You seemed very capable before. Surely nothing has changed since?”

Dumbfounded, you didn’t know how to reply. You were in such shock that one of your hands slipped, allowing one of the Entity’s claws to pierce deeply into your opposite collarbone. You let out an ear piercing scream as you managed to dig the iron out of your skin; adrenaline sending shivers swimming through your bloodstream.

Struggling to form words, you paused to take breaths in between your verbiage.

“It’s...Complicated…Hard to…Explain!”

“Then try. Enlighten me.”

“Look…I…I already used my perk, Deliverance ... .I can’t use it again; so I would greatly appreciate it if you got your head out of your ass and…and helped me! The Entity’s rippin’ me apart!”

A look equally offended and appalled darted across Alastor’s features, distorting his toothy smile to the slightest degree.

“Your…Perk? Entity? Whatever do you mean? Speak plainly, dear. What you’ve just said is very much akin to gibberish…”

If you weren’t actively fighting for your life you would’ve stared at him in disbelief, mouth agape like some braindead fool. Did this idiot not know what a survivor’s perk was? Was he actually galavanting around this entire map without using any of his? And he still managed to not get a single scratch on him? What type of creature was he?

It was as if he wasn’t even human…

Irritated that your partner was seemingly perfect, except for the one flaw that he would not willingly help set you free; you grumbled out the expected information. Somehow amidst gasping for breath, you managed to explain what a perk was and a little about the entity until Alastor’s expression changed to one of mild understanding.

“...Now, help me already….Please!”

Gasping for air and on the verge of passing out, or passing away, you looked toward your so-called partner with the utmost desperation hidden in your eyes. Yet another pause was shared between the two of you and he still refused to move or help you. Your patience for this man was about over.

“Look, shithead, I said please three times, didn’t I?!”

“My, how rude…You do realize whose life is still on the line at the moment, yes?”

In a tone that could only be described as patronizing, his grin grew in conceited splendor. Did he really enjoy getting a rise out of you that much? Your scowl deepened at his sick joy. 

That sadistic fuck…

An even wider smirk adorned Alastor’s features as you blanched, your complexion pale due to both your realization as well as blood loss. His smile was more genuine when you whispered an apology. It was obvious he was pleased to know he had bruised your pride even more than it already was.

“Hmm…I suppose I will let you off the hook for your blunder, if only this once…The tendency to lose manners when one’s life is threatened is something common and albeit expected. Here, brace yourself…This will surely hurt.”

Reaching up to you to finally offer you aid after what seemed to be a millenia, a dark and teasing laugh seeped into Alastor’s breath.

“Feel free to scream if necessary…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few minutes and a superfluity of stifled screams and curses from his little lady, you were freed. It didn’t take much for Alastor to procure you from your entrapment, but he did silently muse on just how light you were in his arms. If he so wished, throwing you with one hand would’ve been as simplistic as breathing. Of course, he had no time for such tempting indulgence. As you had rudely prompted him before, time was slipping away from you both. 

So, with minimal effort and all the grace the radio host had at his disposal, Alastor allowed your liberty to take place. He encapsulated your waist in his hands, deftly  pulling you from your perch. You were worse for wear and covered in filth, of course, but freed all the same. 

Fortunately, the subsequent screams from you were a sufficient reward for his efforts.

Alastor listened to you grumble under your labored breath as you dusted the first of many particles of dirt from your clothing. Your attempts did nothing to satiate the need for disposing of the blood and oil that collected themselves upon your bodice and skin. At least an attempt was made on your part to better your appearance.

Looking over his shoulder to survey the area for any additional threat, Alastor caught sight of the tell tale signs of your dingy cap underneath the shadows of the cattails nearby. Ah. That’s where he had placed it when he acquired it out of the weeds and spare piles of wood when your belligerent cry for assistance rang through his ears. Luckily he was close by, but even so. A little more patience would’ve been appreciated on your part.

Within minutes he left you behind to attain said cap, only to daintily dust it off and provide it to you. You propped your forearm on one knee for a moment before pulling yourself up from the mud to look at the outstretched hand he offered. It was a most generous gift he bestowed to you. 

“I do believe this is yours?”

A deeper scowl was returned to him for his efforts; but he only laughed. You certainly were of the feisty sort.

 You snatched the gift from his hands and donned it swiftly, tugging it over your eyes and adjusting its place on your head as your back arched forward in an atrocious attempt at remaining on your feet. Your posture was lacking, but Alastor supposed you did have a right to not be at your best. It was a marvel how you steadfastly willed yourself to remain standing, let alone conscious. Your stance was shaky, but surprisingly firm as your ever present scowl looked up to meet his curious gaze. 

“Alright…We don’t have much time…There’s only two gen’s left. So you go…Uh…Stab people or what have you…and I’ll…I’ll fix those machines. We’ll meet back up at the exit….Sound good…?”

Alastor quirked a brow at your words, but remained silent. Just what type of tenacity compelled you to continuously move forward when you were considerably near death's door? Surely you were ready to give in by now. 

However, even if your complaints were mostly of his “incompetence” your ferocity was never aimed at your own predicament; but just one glance at your pale complexion instantly notified him that you were tired. More than tired. You were a corpse walking.

It was very interesting how you hadn’t fallen over dead, and Alastor would go so much as to say you colored him impressed. Perhaps only the fiercest of  fighting spirits remained within you? You were of the obstinate sort, after all.

Still, there was something else about you that piqued his interest. Something he couldn’t quite name; and he wanted to figure out what it was. 

Perhaps your natural inclination for survival was just emboldened by the circumstances the two of you found yourselves in. It was an admirable attribute. You weren’t weak and your folly wouldn’t be by your own hand. No, you were stubborn, determined, and just did not know when to quit.

Perhaps that was a good thing…

Alastor’s smile grew. Yet another intriguing thing was learned from you. A few more close observations would surely supply him with even more delightful answers? If you still proved entertaining and useful as the night dragged on, he wouldn’t mind offering you the continued chance to thrive… 

So far, that prospect was promising. Loathe as he was to admit it, however, your eclectic nature, your stubbornness and that persistent disgruntlement of yours had piqued his full curiosity with ease; providing him with a surprising amount of amusement.

Perhaps you had already earned your chance to be spared…

Commanding his thoughts to cease for a moment, Alastor watched as you stepped away from him with a deep heaviness in your footwork. You certainly were a tenacious little thing, compelled by your convictions to a fault. Of course, he would expect nothing less from a partner worthy of his time. He conceded. Your work ethic was impeccable. You were doing well.

Alas, however a nuisance it was to obey someone else’s orders, Alastor assured you he would do as asked as you continued down your chosen path. He only received a small nod and a barely raised hand as you slowly retreated.

The radio host made his way down the opposite path, taking his knife from its home on his belt as he continued his previous stalking through the brush; eager to bleed yet another soul dry that evening…

[sugudoe]

Can I pretty please have a matchmake!

I think of myself as very sweet, or at least I try to be. I'm super energetic but once my social battery runs out I need a (long) break. I love to write/read and im a huge nerd when it comes to silly things like videogames and dragons! I have a lot of love for the world and try to see the good in everyone/everything. Also if it adds to anything I have a very cutesy-pinky clothing selection.

Thank youuu sm!!

hello! sorry i took soo long, hope you like it, and you seem like such a enchanting person 🤍 ps: sorry for only one pairing, i’ll be doing this from time to time unless i get confused on pairings — i have other works to post and the matchmakings are for fun, hope u guys understand.

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: itadori yuji

Showing up on the hangout spot to met your friend, Nobara, you caught lots of attention with your pretty pink dress and heels. no other eyes mattered more than the ones of Itadori Yuji, her friend from high school who decided to tag along on the mall.

Yuji had no expectations of you, that doesn’t mean that when you jumped on top of Nobara and started to talk happily, he didn’t feel like that day was becoming the most beautiful of the year — what’s the sound of birds in the morning or waves in the afternoon compared to your voice, Yuji wonders and comes with one answer: insignificant.

It takes you to finish your yapping to notice him, and much like he does, you also fall terribly easily. Unfortunately for Nobara, third wheeling was the only spot she could have in that moment.

So, you did went and made your shopping of makeup and clothes with her, but Yuji was the one taking most of your attention. Your friend tried really hard to be annoyed by it, but let’s be real, this encounter was most likely her idea, she did her own matchmaking of the two of you.

Your social battery started to get low after a few hours, a small pout forming on your lips, Nobara poked at you, but you only sighed, taking Yuji’s attention.

He didn’t want you to go, and with your desperate eyes at him, he knew you didn’t want him to go as well.

“Let’s go watch a movie.” He says, and that’s where Nobara draws the line of what she accept and doesn’t.

“Yeah! No.” You and him stare at her confused. “I mean, sure, you both go! Y/n has been wanting to see this movie with dragons for some time now, but I’m tired.”

In the dark room of the theater, after saying goodbye and a small thanks to Nobara, you are seated by Yuji’s side. Sharing popcorn and a cup of soda with two straws, you had thought you would be quiet, recharging to get back your animation to talk by the end of the movie.

Surprisingly, soon as a dragon appeared, you started to ramble in whispers about cool facts, and Yuji stared at you intensely, so focused that he would’ve prefer to be seeing you in the big screen rather than that movie. But scratch that, having you soo close is much worth.

That’s the first time you kissed, and can you really blame him? Both of your faces so close, an empty and cold dark room, and you looked so adorable with your dress and his jacket on top. No, you really can’t. You wouldn’t dare complain, instead you relented to his kisses, and many other dates, and many other kisses.

You do have from time to time those low battery moments, and thanks to Yuji, your now charming boyfriend, you have your own personal charger, working with small pecks and questions to make you yap about whatever you like. As always, Itadori keeps himself busy admiring you.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ FUN FACTS.

◛ ₊· Yuji loves your love for the world, you are basically sharing the same ideals, and therefore, anyone in yours and his presence gets granted a sight of gentleness and happiness. You both bring the good out of anywhere you go.

◛ ₊· Sometimes, Yuji’s charging its not enough, and that’s totally okay. He lets you keep in your own mind while he goes play games in your computer, his silence is enough to make you take your time. Whenever you feel like it, you crawl into his lap and starts to play with him as well, he lets you do whatever you want while kissing your head.

[ra1nb0wd4shss3cr3tbl0g]

Chris McLean x Male!Reader NSFW

This is my first post don't judge

Chris held you by the arms. He was chuckling. You pushed him away, blushing. “Th-thanks for, um, catching me,” you stuttered, looking at the ground. You had tripped on a bush and he happened to be there, so he caught you, surprisingly. You thought he would’ve let you fall and laughed at you.

“What are you doing out here so late?” he asked. It was 10 at night and while the others were asleep, you had decided to take a walk.

“Uh, I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk,” you answered.

“And you decided to walk right by my cabin?” he chuckled.

“Well, why were you awake? And outside?” you asked.

He chuckled again.

“God dammit, what’s so funny?” you muttered, looking him in the eye.

His response was “you” as he dragged you inside his cabin.

You were confused. “Where you are now is a while away from the others and you’ll be getting up at 7. It’ll be easier for you to sleep here,” he answered your unspoken question.

“Where- where will I be sleeping?” you questioned.

“Here.”

“No, that’s not what I-” From his wide grin, you knew he knew what you meant.

“Haha, you can stay in my bed,” he said, laughing. “Just don’t come in until I say you can.”

Then, he left, leaving you there a confused and blushing mess. Well, I guess I am a legal adult. You sighed. Your birthday had been a few days ago, making you 18. But still, why am I so special? He could just let me sleep on the couch. I’m sure it’s comfier than the bunk. You blushed. Chris is.. pretty attractive, actually. I guess I never noticed before. Nothing going to happen though, is it? I mean, I don’t really care. Well, I do, but-- Your thoughts were interrupted by Chris coming out in his pajamas, which were quite adorable. He had a grey t-shirt on with dark blue pants. The pants had cute teddy bears on them, which you couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me! You’re lucky I even have these. I don’t usually wear pants to sleep,” he defended. The thought made you blush. Dammit Chris, stop being so hot.

He threw a shirt at you. It was a large white t-shirt, whose sleeves came down to your elbows. You knew Chris couldn’t fit in it, so why did he have it?

“Uh, I don’t think this fits you. Why..?” you asked.

“Oh, my ex bought it for me, saying how I would look adorable in a huge shirt. She was wrong. I looked terrible in it,” he responded.

“Okay. Where am I supposed to put this on?”

“I’ll be in my room, the last room down the hall. Go there when you’re changed.” And with that, he left.

You took off your shirt, putting the huge one over it. You took off your ripped jean shorts, too. The shirt came down to your mid-thigh, and it was pretty comfy. You took your clothes with you to Chris’ room, where you blushed before opening the door. You were going to be sharing a bed with THE Chris McLean, your celebrity crush.

The door opened, showing Chris sitting up, only his head poking up from the fluffy cover. Oh my god, he’s adorable.

“Um, where do I put these?” you asked, motioning to your clothes.

He motion to the floor beside the bed. You walked over, depositing your clothes and climbing in bed, as far from Chris as you could be. He noticed, and chuckled once again.

“You’ll fall off the bed if you’re all the way over there,” he pointed out. Patting the bed, he dragged you closer.

He laid his arm over you, snuggling into the crook of your neck. His chest was flush against your back. Your breathing quickening, even though you were begging yourself to stay calm.

“(Y/n), I can hear your heartbeat from here. Am I that attractive?” he whispered in your ear. You could feel your face heating up.

He slid his hand from your stomach to your hip, kneading it gently with his fingers. You were freaking out. What’s happening? Why is he doing this?

“You know, (Y/n), you’re really attractive. And you have a great personality. I think I might’ve fallen for you,” he whispered, sending a chill up your spine. He licked up your neck, kissing your jaw. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding. He chuckled, kissing and biting a spot near your collarbone. You were sweating, the oversized shirt and blanket were too much.

“It’s too h-hot,” you murmured. Chris pulled off the cover, showing a bulge in his pants. He sat up, admiring you. Pulling you too his lap, he asked you if it was still too hot.

“Y-yes,” you muttered, not lying but not telling the entire truth. He chuckled again.

“Well, I can fix that.”

He pulled on the shirt. You raised your arms, letting it slip off. You were facing him, your foreheads almost touching. He locked his lips with yours, kissing you softly, then harder. His tongue traced your bottom lip. He pushed you off of him. He climbed on top of you, leaning down to kiss you again. You wrapped your arms around him, grinding against his crotch. This caught him off guard. He groaned into the kiss. Bucking his hips against you, you moaned, making him chuckle. Jackass.

He let go, slipping off your underwear. He leaned down. You could feel his breath on you, his tongue on you.

He licked your inner thigh, then up your length.

“Chris, s-stop teasing me,” you whined. This only made him smirk.

“Well, tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” he said huskily, still smirking.

“Chris, please,” you begged.

“Please? Please what?” he asked in mock-innocence.

“F-fuck me,” you whispered.

“Hmm? Say that again, I can’t hear you,” he said, reaching a hand to cup his ear.

“Fuck me, Chris. I want you to fuck me,” you begged, blushing.

“That’s a bit too vague. Can you tell me in more detail?”

He was starting to annoy you, but his hands held you in place.

“God dammit, Christian, I want your cock inside me. I want you to pound me until my throat hurts. I need you fuck me,” you begged.

He blushed, soon replacing it with a smirk. “Okay. But will my tongue be fine for now?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. His mouth was on you, his tongue wrapping around your cock. One moment his lips touched your base, the next they were on your tip. Your moaning had gotten louder. You tried to thrust into his mouth but he held you down. Just as you were about to reach your peak, he stopped.

You shakily swallowed as he took off his shirt. His pants came off quickly afterwards

“Knees, now,” he ordered.

You quickly obeyed, watching him.

He slowly pulled down his boxers, his erection there in all its glory. He chuckled as you blushed and swallowed. You slowly reached out, grabbing his cock. He was still sitting, legs crossed. He brushed your hand away, petting your hair when you quietly apologized.

“No reason to say sorry. I understand you want me, but let me get comfortable,” he smirked.

Chris leaned back, legs spread and knees bent.

“Okay, (Y/n),” he said, watching you. You shivered when he said your name. “I’m ready.”

You grabbed his dick, running your hand slowly up and down. He sighed. “C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

You blushed, ‘sorry’s spilling from your mouth.

“How about you stop saying sorry and suck me off?” he told you, annoyed.

You glared at him, stopping yourself from saying sorry again. You leaned down, licking his tip. He groaned, running his hand through your hair. Your tongue trailed down his shaft, then back up again.

“(Y/n), don’t tease me,” he ordered, voice quivering.

You ignored him, smirking. As he was opening his mouth to say something, you sucked his tip, making him choke on his words and moan loudly. You went back to teasing him. His hand in your hair held tighter, and as you heard him breathe in to complain again, you put your mouth around him and started bobbing your head up and down. You stopped to spit in your hand, using that as lube for what couldn’t fit.

“Ah, (Y-y/n),” he groaned. You bobbed your head faster, trying not to gag as you fit more of him in your mouth.

His hips bucked up as he held you in place. His sticky seed shot down your throat, which you swallowed so there wouldn’t be as much of a mess. You sat up, looking at him.

“Could we be done, (Y/n)? I’m tired,” he asked, smirking.

“Nuh-uh. Christian, you are going to fuck me.”

“Okay, if I have to.”

He leaned over, getting a condom out of the drawer next to the bed. He then got very close to you, whispering in your ear. “I’m going to make you scream my name, got it?” You could only nod, but that seemed to please him.

He turned you around, sticking his fingers inside you.

He pushed you onto your hands and knees, rubbed his tip around your opening a few times, and stuck himself in. You moaned, throwing your head back. He wasn’t huge, but he definitely wasn’t small. His thrusts started off slow as he kissed you. The faster he went, the more you moaned, which made it harder to kiss you. But he liked hearing you more than kissing you right now. He grabbed your cock, jerking you off as he thrusted into you.

Your nails dug into the bed as you got closer. He better not fucking stop now, you thought as you reached your peak. Your load shot onto the sheets, staining them.

“A-ah~” you moaned loudly. “Chri- Christian~ Nngh~”

He kept thrusting into you and jerking you off. The overstimulation and sound of skin on skin was music to your ears. You were reaching your peak for the second time when his thrusts got faster and more frantic. He was jerking harder and faster. You gripped the sheets tighter, clenching your jaw as he thrusted a few more times, fucking you through your peak, then came hard. He laid his head on your back, panting.

He pulled out, took off the condom, and deposited it in the bathroom. You grabbed the shirt Chris had so kindly lended you and put it on, crawling under the covers and waiting for him to return. After a few minutes of him not coming back, you were concerned. Did he regret that? Did I mess up? Oh god, I did something wrong, didn’t I?

The bathroom door slamming shut violently pulled you out of your worried thoughts. Oh shit, he’s mad. I messed up big time.

Chris fell onto the bed face-first, dramatically. He had put his boxers back on. He said something, but the only thing you could make out was “(Y/n)” and “hate”.

“Um, Chris, could you repeat that?” you quietly asked. You thought he hated you.

“I said ‘(Y/n), do you hate me?’,” he repeated, looking at you.

“Huh?” The question caught you off guard. “No, of course not. Why?”

He sighed, flipping over and getting under the covers. “Well, I.. like you. A lot, actually. And how do I show it? By teasing you, getting mad because you were shy and then fucking you. I thought for sure you’d hate me. I’m sorry.”

“Chris..”

He turned to look at you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“I don’t hate you. I-I thought you hated me,” you confessed. He looked at you, confused and concerned.

“Why would I hate you? It’s my fault all of this started.”

“W-well.. I thought you, uh, regretted what you did, everything you did, and, um, blamed it on me.”

He looked hurt, but replaced it with a small smile. “So.. you don’t hate me?”

“Nope. I like you,” you told him, smiling at his smile.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, trapping you against his chest. You giggled, looking up at him. He chuckled, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” he said softly, yawning.

You hummed, laying your head on his chest. “Goodnight, Chris.”

[samgirl98]

Memories are a Fickle Thing

“Who are you,” a 16-year-old Daniel Fenton asked Damian Al Ghul-Wayne.

The older twin didn’t know how to answer that question.

Eight-year-old Danyal Al Ghul had just escaped the League of Assassins by killing his handlers and faking his death. It wasn’t that hard. All he had to do was make sure the bodies were burned enough that the teeth couldn’t be used to be identified. He found a corpse his size and gender, and boom, Danyal Al Ghul was no more.

He was able to survive thanks to his League training.

Eventually, while using a water fountain to bathe at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere America, he was found by the Fentons.

“You know you’re making a mess, right,” a 10-year-old with red hair asked him, her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, so? Mind your business, you fink.”

The girl frowned, “Where are your parents?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I can take care of myself.”

The girl looked at him, incredulous.

“But you’re so small! Every kid has a mommy and daddy.”

“Not me,” he stated proudly, “and if I did, I don’t remember them.”

“Oh, you poor, wretched soul. You’re an orphan.”

“The fu—the hell did you just call me?”

“Mom, dad, there’s an orphaned kid bathing with the water fountain.”

Danyal had been too shocked to run away when the girl grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her parents. By the time he had thought to fight back, he had been in the clutches of a behemoth of man that not even his training could Danyal fight off.

(Seriously, was the man half-gorilla? Why was he so strong?)

Eventually, the questions started.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s Daniel.”

“Where are your parents?”

A shrug.

“Do you know where you’re from?”

“Nope,” he said while popping the ‘p.’

Somehow, he ended up being fostered and later adopted by the Fentons. Danyal, now Daniel James Fenton,

Later, Danny would cringe at the memories of wanting to kill and/or maim his adopted family. Thank the Ancients they weren’t normal, or they would’ve questioned why Danny was such a violent and stabby child.

He grew up as a (semi)normal teenager while his parents cared for him. They were obsessed with ghosts and trying to prove their existence, but they cared for him more than his mother ever did.

(Danny ignored his twinge of pain when thinking about his older twin brother.)

He made friends with two outcasts: Tucker Foley and Sam Manson.

The portal accident happened, and he followed in his bio dad’s footsteps to become the hero of Amity Park.

On his fifteenth birthday (not that his parents knew it was his birthday.), Danny told them the truth. No, not about the assassin thing (he would take that to the grave), about the Phantom thing. They took it surprisingly well.

They had been horrified when they found out they had been shooting at ‘their baby boy.’

Danny’s parents helped him capture and release the ghosts now, letting him catch up with school work and much-needed sleep.

He helped with his parents’ research and showed them around the Ghost Zone. They ate up every bit of information they got.

His half-life continued, and he still claimed amnesia the rare times his parents or sister asked him about his past.

It all went downhill one random spring morning. He woke up to find his brother and biological father standing in his living room.

“Akhi,” Damian breathed out.

“Who are you,” Danny asked without thinking. He felt terrible when his brother’s face fell, and their biological father looked saddened, his eyes suspiciously misty.

Now, how was he going to fix this?

The lies had caught up with him.

This is a one-shot that will not have an update to it. I hope you're okay with the ending

Dc x dp idea: the mandatory Damian-Danny twins au.

When Danny runs from the league he makes sure no one asks about his past by pulling the amnesia card. He gained enough sympathy from the Fenton’s while he was on the road that they adopted him and he stayed in Amity Park.

So naturally when the bats find Danny and he recognises at least Damian, not knowing what to do he goes “who are you?”

Bruce is crying.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 28 - Sunlight [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, hospitals, medicine.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Survival makes people stronger.

Everyone’s voices were so muffled that for a moment it felt as if you were under water. It came and went just like the warmth, just like the comfort—

One moment there, the other moment far away, and anytime you tried to reach through that haze, you were pushed back into the numbness.

You could swear at some point your father was there too. You were still at the cabin, in that dress, sitting across from him by the chessboard, and then back at the weekend house where your sister was chasing you around the piano, your mother calling out for you to stop running, then someone pushing you into the lake by the cabin before it changed again and your father handed you a knife.

If this is hell, I’d like to talk to the manager.

But eventually, it all came back to you. There was this heaviness on your hand, your chest and ribs hurt terribly and your forehead kept stinging as you tried to open your eyes to meet the bright lights of the hospital room.

Ah. You weren’t in the woods anymore.

You had made it after all.

The constant beeping of the machine caught your attention for a moment before you looked down to see Spencer’s head resting on your hand, his fingers entwined with yours. Your mother was by the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling with a crumpled tissue in her hand and Mina was resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mom?” you rasped out and your mother’s eyes whipped to yours, Mina sat up and Spencer’s head shot up.

“Oh thank God!” your mother jumped out of her seat to come to your beside and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making you wince. “Oh thank God you’re okay…”

“Hey,” Mina wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, “Welcome back brat.”

You smiled and turned to Spencer who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes.

“I know,” you said, “No eyeliner right?”

A small sob mixed with laughter rose from his throat and he pressed your hand to his lips, swallowing thickly.

“Hi.”

“Hey professor,” you tried to smile but you were in too much pain to do so, “Is there like…a morphine button or-?”

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Mina rushed out of the room and closed the door behind her, and your mother pulled back.

“How do you feel honey?”

“Like I crawled out of hell,” you said, “Is- is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine.”

“Where’s Lily?”

“With Kenzie and Nolan, outside.”

You let out a breath and turned to Spencer.

“You figured it out?” you asked, “The note?”

“Ophelia, yeah,” he sniffled and nodded fervently, “Cabin by the lake, we were on our way there when—” he stopped talking as if remembering it was way too heavy on him and you squeezed his hand.

“How did I….” you looked between them, “Survive? Erica shot me.”

“The helicopter,” your mother said, “We sent it with a medic and a sniper just in case.”

“You sent a helicopter with a medic and a sniper?” you repeated, “Mom, that sounds like a joke.”

“Well I’m glad you find it funny,” your mother wiped at her eyes again, “Because you’re grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Okay,” you shot a look at Spencer, “Ignore this.”

“No, not even your boyfriend can help you right now.”

“They still like you, no worries,” you explained and he shook his head slightly, reaching out to touch your cheek as if trying to prove to himself that you were real.

“I thought—“ he started and blinked back the tears, gritting his teeth and you rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“I’m fine,” you said and lifted your head when the thought hit you, “Wait what happened to Lincoln?”

A shadow crossed Spencer’s eyes and your mother flexed her fingers as if she wanted to throttle someone upon hearing his name.

“That monster is currently handcuffed to a hospital bed,” she said, “But not to worry, we put ten guards in front of his door, and I will make sure to ruin his life myself.”

“He survived?”

“Barely,” Spencer said through his teeth but before he could say anything else, the door opened and a doctor stepped in. Even you could hear Lily’s very loud protests, Kenzie trying to shush her and you smiled slightly before turning to the doctor who was checking the file in her hand.

“Hello Y/N,” she said cheerfully “Nice to see you awake, for a moment you had me worried we wouldn’t get to meet. So, we have head trauma, a bullet wound, broken ribs and blood loss. Were you trying to fill out a bingo of dangerous injuries or…?”

“Go big or go home doc,” you nodded and she raised her brows.

“Should I put in a psychiatric evaluation in here as well then?”

“Yes please,” your mother pinched the bridge of her nose and you heaved a sigh, making a face.

“Pain?”

“A lot.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” she said and Spencer stood up.

“Can I see her chart please?” he asked and she took almost taken aback before showing him the chart.

“I’d like to change these two meds,” Spencer said and started listing off his suggestions while you watched him with a smile on your face.

“Spencer,” you said, “Please let the nice and smart lady do her job.”

The doctor grinned at you, “That’s alright. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

“Two questions. One, when can I go home?”

“We’d like to keep you under observation for a couple of days, depending on how fast your body shows progress to heal.”

“Okay. Can I smoke here?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” your mother threw her head back, Spencer just stared at you and the doctor blinked a couple of times.

“Since this job taught me never to take any question as hypothetical,” she said, “I’m just going to answer it. No, under absolutely no circumstances are you allowed to smoke here.”

You curled your lips, “It was worth a try.”

“We’ll give you some really good painkillers, don’t worry,” she winked, “I’ll let the rest of your family in and see you later.”  

She walked to the door and opened it, and soon enough Lily rushed inside but as soon as she leaped at you, Kenzie caught her mid-air like a troublesome cat.

“No, what did I say outside?”

“But mama—“

“It’s okay Kenz. Hi bug.”

Kenzie gave you a teary eyed smile and slowly set Lily down, and she hugged her teddy bear before taking a step towards you, nibbling on her lip.

“Does it hurt?” she pointed at the stitches on your forehead and you tilted your head.

“Just a little, sweetie.”

She carefully put the teddy bear beside your bed and grinned at you.

“Mr. Chocolate Chip Cookie will be your friend here,” she patted the teddy bear’s head and you let out a small laugh.

“I really appreciate it bug, thank you,” you said and held the teddy bear in your lap before you turned to Nolan. “Hey man, thanks for the helicopter.”

“Thanks for the almost heart attack,” he replied and fixed his bowtie, “You keep me young with all this panic and adrenaline. Honestly Y/N, never do that to us again, please.”

“I’ll try my best not to get kidnapped by a maniac again,” you stated, “Besides, mom already grounded me so…”

“Good! No jet for you for a while young lady.”

A nurse came in to inject the painkiller into your IV, and you smiled at the sight of your family fondly, then cleared your throat.

“Hey, not that I didn’t miss you guys,” you said, “But um…can I talk to Spencer for a moment?”

Kenzie and Mina exchanged looks and Kenzie lifted Lily up.

“We’ll be right outside,” she said and walked to the door. One by one they left the room and your jaw dropped when you saw Mina squeezing Spencer’s shoulder before she left as well.

“Well, something changed,” you commented and Spencer came to pull a chair next to the bed before he reached out to hold your hand.

“She was the first one to talk to me when we landed,” his voice still didn’t sound so strong and you frowned.

“What did she say?”

“Go there and bring my sister back.” Spencer said and ran a hand over his eyes, “Based on the profile, I thought he’d already—“ he couldn’t even finish that sentence before he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought I lost you.”

“Nah, cigarettes will kill me, not serial killers,” you reached out to push a curl out of his eyes, “I thought you knew that. All looks and no smarts, aren’t you?”

He scoffed a shaky laugh and you licked your lips.

“What happened there?” you asked, “I heard gunshots after Erica shot me, is she—“

“Dead,” Spencer nodded, “She was shot right there.”

You could feel the goosebumps on your skin, “And Lincoln?”

“I was going to kill him,” Spencer said, “If I got there first, I would’ve.”

“Spencer you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he told you, a dangerous light gleaming in his eyes, “I do mean that.”

You heaved a sigh, now easier thanks to the painkillers, “Yeah well, I guess I know the feeling.”

“Um- the team is outside as well by the way,” he said, “Luke and Garcia has been here the whole night, and I’ve been instructed to tell you, word by word, no amount of pastries will excuse the worry you put them through.”

You grinned, the tired haze of sleep crashing on you, “Ouch, I’ll have to try harder I guess,” you said and yawned, making Spencer smile.

“Rest a little,” he said, “I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head back to the pillows, then closed your eyes.

                                                 ***

You were given the permission to go home after a week because your mother insisted on keeping you there until she was convinced you wouldn’t drop dead all of a sudden. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t raise hell when you told her you would be staying at Spencer’s place for a while, and for once, Mina agreed with you.

You really needed to ask Spencer what had happened while you were gone, in detail.

It was strange, but your sleep was much less disturbed after you had returned from the hospital. When you were in hospital you had just assumed it was because of the meds they had given you, but now, sleeping with Spencer in his bed, there was still no sign of any nightmares.

With you, that was. Spencer was a completely different story.

You still had to be careful because of your ribs and the doctor had told you to be careful with how you slept, so the moment you moved a little in your sleep and felt the pain shooting through you, you made a face and reached for Spencer’s side of the bed only to meet an empty spot. You opened your eyes, and carefully sat up in bed, trying to hear whether there was any noise to signal he was coming back to bed but there was none, so you slipped out of the bed and walked to the living room.

Of course he was there. Cradling a cup with steam coming out of it in his hands, staring into the darkness as if he was lost in his own mind.

“Spencer?” you said softly and he turned his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile, “Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you tilted your head before you went to sit beside him and he ran a hand through his curls.

“It’s not important.”

“Nightmares?” you asked and he nodded silently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” he murmured, “How about you? Any pain? Do you need an ice bag?”

You shook your head, “Nah it’s fine,” you said, “It doesn’t hurt that terribly.”

“And your nightmares?”

You shrugged, “No nightmares. I mean—at least not like the earlier ones. Not where I’m turning into him.”

“Trauma works differently in everyone.”

“I don’t think it’s the trauma though,” you said, “I think it’s because…because I know now.”

He raised his brows, his whole attention on you, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not in me,” you said, “It’s just—it’s just not. I don’t think it ever was. My father killed people because it made him feel powerful. It wasn’t like that with me, back at the cabin. It was survival. For me and people I care about, that’s all. It doesn’t make me evil.”

That seemed to pull him out of his thoughts and he smiled.

“No it doesn’t,” he said, “You’ve never been evil. Even when he tried to turn you into that.”

Even your heart felt light, despite the pain in your ribs and your smile widened.

“I know he’s not dead but…”

“He’s locked away. Same difference from now on.”

You paused for a moment, “Speaking of,” you said, “I was thinking I could go and see him for the last time.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll help me put this whole thing behind me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I want to see the look on his face when he realizes his small project failed,” you said, “Trust me. There’s no way he can get to me, not anymore.”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and you leaned back to the back of the couch, still keeping your gaze on his handsome face.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you said, “If it’s too much.”

“It’s not that,” he rasped out, “Officially, I might not be allowed in.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leaving the BAU.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him, then sat up straighter.

“What?”

“I can’t anymore,” he averted his glances from you to look into space, nibbling on his lip, “Y/N, I was out of the city when they called me to tell me you were missing, that you were most probably taken by the copycat. And for the whole time until I found you…” his voice cracked, “Lincoln’s profile, before we even knew that he was Lincoln, it all suggested that he…killed his victims without spending any time with them. I thought—“ he sniffled and cleared his throat, “I can’t do that anymore. Imagining you like all those victims…”

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t,” he said, barely moving his lips, “Back there.”

Ah. The woods.

“That’s what your nightmare was about?” you asked and he heaved a shaky sigh.

“I couldn’t save you,” he said, “You died there, and I couldn’t do anything, I was too late—“

“Spencer,” you reached out to touch his cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

He turned his head so that his eyes would meet yours and you dragged your fingertips over the slight stubble on his cheek.

“You weren’t too late,” you told him, “And I didn’t die. Okay? I’m right here. Don’t leave the BAU because of me, do it only if you want to. I’ll be with you either way.”

He blinked back the tears and nodded. “I want to,” he whispered, “I can’t anymore, and I want- I want to be here. I’ll just…I’ll focus on teaching, and the team can consult me whenever they need to, but I need to be here.”

“And you’re sure about that? It’s not some…heat of the moment decision?”

“It’s not,” he said, “I’m positive.”

“Alright,” you smiled at him softly, “Okay then. I guess instead of talking about gruesome murders and copycats who were after me, we can be one of those boring, cliché couples who bicker about…I don’t know, dirty dishes in the sink, or how you forgot to put down the toilet seat or-“

“Your hair in the drain.”

“I’m going to pretend like you weren’t waiting for the opportunity to bring that up.”

He let out a teary laugh and wiped at his eyes before he pulled you closer and carefully wrapped his arms around you so as not to hurt your ribs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You brushed your fingers through his curls, as if trying to prove to him that you were there, that you were alright.

“I love you so much,” the confession left his lips in a whisper and you could feel the burning behind your eyes as you raked your nails over the nape of his neck gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, “God, you have no idea how much.”

                                                      ***

The BAU, upon your request, fixed a meeting with your father for the next week.

And throughout that week, everyone tried to convince you to change your mind. Your mother had made a whole scene during brunch, telling you that it was as if you liked torturing yourself, but you knew deep down that you had to talk to him for the last time.

Seeing your father after what felt like a life time, especially after everything that you had been through was strange at the very least. You didn’t have any goosebumps, you didn’t have that nervousness messing with your head, you didn’t feel like you were under the threat of being attacked any time, and most of all—

You didn’t feel like he was stronger than you. At all.

You lit a cigarette in the interrogation room, then flipped the cap of the lighter and turned your head when the door opened and your father walked in, chains dangling from his handcuffs wrapped around his ankles. He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he didn’t expect to see you there and let out a breath.

“Petal…”

“You should sit down,” you said, exhaling the smoke and a guard helped him sit down across from you.

“We’re right outside, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said and watched as he straightened his back, his gaze focused on you.

“You look…” he trailed off and you raised your brows,

“Hm?”

“What did they do to you?”

“Ah I guess your outside source ending up dead gets you a bit behind on the news,” you said, “Erica is dead, Lincoln is never gonna see the sunlight again, and your whole project to turn me into your legacy with the help of them failed terribly.”

“I’d never allow them to harm you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

“But you fought your way out, didn’t you?” he asked you, “Looks like my training helped you after all. Even if you refuse to see that.”

“Did you seriously think I’d become like you?” you asked back, “Did you think Lincoln would manage to turn me into you?”

“Honey, Lincoln was going to be your companion at best, your first kill at worst.” he said and you clicked your tongue.

“Oh, that was your plan all along?”

“Some part of it, at least. I knew they wouldn’t be able to handle you, but I thought you could decide what to do with them. Could you kill Erica at least?”

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“You should have,” he said, “You would see, Petal.”

You twirled the cigarette between your fingers, staring at him for a couple of seconds.

“I keep thinking,” you mused, “You know what I said to Mina and Kenzie when they first told me they wanted to have a baby?”

He tilted his head, “Hm? What?”

“I asked them if they lost their minds.”

Your father pulled back slightly and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Because I mean… Kenzie’s parents are assholes, and there’s you,” you motioned at him, “Not that anyone else could take the cake on being a messed up parent when you’re in the picture.”

“I take offense to that.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “But then it hit me, back at the hospital. I was looking at this whole mess from the wrong perspective.”

“Which is?”

“They had a point,” you said, “Back then- before all this I mean, I thought when someone decided to have kids, their first priority was to be the perfect parent. That’s stupid, it’s impossible to be the perfect parent, our own parents mess us up in one way or another. But I get it now.”

“You get what?”

“The first step is being better than your own parents, not starting out perfect,” you said, “That’s why every generation is different, we’re all trying to be better than our parents, and some of us actually succeed.”

“And you think you’d be a better parent than me, is that it?”

“Shouldn’t take that much of an effort to be honest.”

“Are you…?” he motioned at you and you scoffed.

“No,” you said, “No, but what happened back there made me think. I’ve been living my whole life so convinced that you messed me up beyond my own control, beyond saving, but that’s not completely true, is it? I mean, just because you’re in my past, doesn’t mean I’ll have to include you in my present.”

“But I am in your present Petal.”

You pursed your lips together, then gestured around you. “Debatable. Nolan is buying this whole place, did you know that?” you asked, “All your guards are on our paychecks, so it should be harder to…use them to contact outside. We control everything that’s happening here, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

He blinked a couple of times, trying to catch up with your train of thought.

“And you think that will be enough to put me behind you?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t think it’s that easy,” you confessed, “But it’s a start.”

He moved his hands on the table, the chain rattling.

“I raised you.” he said, “I’m inside your head, whether you like it or not. You’re my legacy—“

“I’m my own legacy, you fucking idiot,” you said with a small chuckle, “That’s who I am. Just because your expectations of me will not leave me, doesn’t mean I’ll let them haunt me.”

“And you think that will be enough.”

“I will never see you again,” you tilted your head, “Should make things easier, to be honest.”

He smiled, “But you already hurt people,” he said “You know how it feels now, don’t you? That fire? Now you know what you’re capable of.”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah I do. Now I know that if it ever comes to that point, I’m capable of protecting myself and my family. It doesn’t make me a monster, it makes me a survivor. Me and mom have that in common, after the shit you’ve pulled.”

He stared at you and you took a last drag of your cigarette, then checked your wristwatch.

“Well I should go. You may have all the time in the world, but I actually have a life, so…”

You stubbed your cigarette and walked to the door but as soon as you opened it, he said your name, making you stop.

“You can’t escape from this,” he said, “Even if you never see me again, you still won’t escape, you know that, right? Why do you think I chose you and not your sister? Even when you were a child, you had…something in you. Something dark, something dangerous.”

The idea was very familiar to you. You had been saying the same thing to yourself for many years and hearing it from him for what felt like a hundredth time was supposed to make you feel bad, you knew that. If it were any other time before your kidnapping, before saving yourself in that cabin, before surviving everything your father and his followers had put you through, it would probably have more effect on you.

The last time he had done that, you had ended up in the stairs, shaking until Spencer had found you.

But it wasn’t that time.

It was as if something had clicked inside your head after everything, and your father’s words held no strength in them.

“Come on honey,” he told you, “Some people are just born twisted.”

A small smile pulled at your lips and you raised your brows, looking at him for a couple of seconds, etching the sight of him in chains into your memory.

“Maybe,” you said and took a step towards him, opening your cigarette case to pull out the small jasmine flower out of it, then put it on the table, eyes locked to his before you leaned in slightly.

“But I wasn’t.”

With that, you turned around and walked out of the interrogation room for the last time, ignoring the way he was yelling your name. Your smile widened as you made your way out of the building, your heels echoing in the halls before you stepped out, the fresh air filling your lungs.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, leaning back to your car and reached out so that you could step into his embrace as he pushed your hair out of your face, “How did it go?”

“As expected,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips and he heaved a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said “Yeah I feel like…he’s gone. He’s gone, I’m here and I’m free and I know myself now. I finally woke up from that nightmare, for good.”

He smiled and brushed his lips against yours, “That’s a good start,” he commented, “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” you said and he tilted his head before he held up your keys.

“What do you say we drive away and never return here?”

You let out a small giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like that idea,” you said, “Let’s drive away and never return.”

Chapter 29 

[usermischief]

♜Pairing: Briles ♜Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Brett Talbot ♜Warnings: this is the lemon in the spicy fruit salad (explicit content ahead) ♜Words: 6720 ♜ AO3 (link in content source because apparently we're back in "posts with a link to a non-tumblr site will not show up in the tags" times)

---

for @amatchinwater because she derailed all of my plans with that goddamn TikTok video

---

cracks in control

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you.” Brett squints and pulls him close again, letting go of his hand in favor of wrapping his arm around his shoulders instead. “If Satomi heard I expected you to have sex with me, she’d drop her Buddhist beliefs for the five seconds it took her to break both of my legs.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh. “I probably wouldn’t have said no.”

“And I probably would’ve fucked you exactly the way you were begging for.”

-----

This probably shouldn’t be weird, but Stiles still cannot shake the feeling that strolling through Central Park with Brett Talbot isn’t something that happens on a regular basis. It’s not really Stiles’ first choice for a first date either because he’s awkward and terrible at small talk. He either talks too much, or his brain turns into a bunch of little knots when asked a question. Talking to Brett, however, is not as stressful as he expected. It’s surprisingly easy even. It almost doesn’t feel like a date as they’re walking out of the coffee shop, and Brett curls an arm around his shoulders as if that’s the most normal thing in the world.

Maybe it is. Maybe Stiles is just stressing out too much over everything once again.

“So, you went from dancing and gymnastics to playing lacrosse?” Brett taps a finger against the side of his cup, cocking his head slightly to look down at him.

Scrunching up his face, Stiles sips on his coffee. “Yeah, well, you know… teenage crushes.”

“Please, don’t tell me you had a crush on fucking Whittemore.”

“Wouldn’t that just prove I have a type?” Stiles grins up at him, quirking a brow.

Brett narrows his eyes and pokes Stiles’ shoulder with a bit more force than strictly necessary. “Thin ice, my man,” he says in a very low voice. “I am nothing like him.” Huffing, Brett straightens again and sips on his mocha. He’s not entirely wrong. Brett is not at all like Jackson, yet on the other, they have enough similarities to spot them from a mile away.

“Lydia.” Even though he doubts Brett is actually mad about being compared to Jackson, he’d rather not risk being too annoying on their first date. “She dated the lacrosse captain, so I thought…” he trails off, making a dismissive gesture and sighs. Yeah, good old times. Thinking back on his crush, he feels super weird about it. Now, he and Lydia are like siblings, and Stiles is planning her wedding with her. He wouldn’t mind if he’s able to announce that he’ll have a Plus 1 for once in his life — and Jackson’s face is going to be worth throwing himself into the whole dating scene again. Jackson’s face is especially going to be worth it to ask Brett to be his Plus 1 in three months even if this whole relationship thing is not going to work out.

Then again, why wouldn’t it? How high is the chance that Brett suddenly runs into him in the middle of New York City while he’s out grocery shopping? They talked for a little bit. Brett informed him he was there to check out colleges. Unsurprisingly, he got a lot of offers due to his success in lacrosse. After he left again, they stayed in contact. It took Brett two weeks to ask him out, and he’s been persistent even when Stiles was hesitant at first. All in all, Brett convinced him within a month, and now he’s come back to New York for their first date.

Lydia told him to make sure he doesn’t run off again.

“Damn,” Brett whispers, nodding slightly. “You got good taste.”

“Your ego is gonna be exhausting, isn’t it?” Stiles elbows Brett in the side and grins up at him.

Chuckling, Brett pulls him closer. “Since you’re always brutally honest, I gotta make sure my fragile ego isn’t going to crumble and break.”

“Oh, excuse me, I can be nice.” If he wants to be that is. Sure, his default is asshole. That’s just his gut reaction. Nice, after all, doesn’t help you survive in the supernatural world. Usually, it doesn’t even help you in the very human world. He wiggles his brows and wraps his arm around Brett’s waist, leaning into him as they walk past a little girl playing with her dog. It’s early enough on a Sunday that most people are not yet in the mood for a casual walk.

Brett’s grin widens. “Is that why all your previous relationships lasted so long?”

Wow. Stiles pulls his arm back and pushes the werewolf, who instantly starts laughing and trying his best not to spill his mocha. “You’re such a jerk,” Stiles says, jabbing a finger in Brett’s general direction. But he isn’t even trying to hide his own amusement. It’s nice not to have to tiptoe around people because they might get offended by every single thing Stiles says. It’s nice to have someone who’s ready to dish out as much as Stiles serves. That’s why he and Lydia get along so well. She has thick skin and a sharp tongue. She also doesn’t get all condescending either every time Stiles cusses somebody out.

“What’s the saying?” Brett asks with a grin, grabbing Stiles’ hand to intertwine their fingers. “Birds of the feather flock together.”

Stiles grins and squeezes his hand. Everything feels so unbelievably normal with Brett. It’s like they’ve been together forever. Hopefully, Stiles can actually say that in the future. He’s not usually someone who jumps too far ahead in relationships — especially not after most of them failed in under four months for various not-so-fun reasons. Plus, if they’re actually doing this, they’re going to have a long-distance relationship for at least seven more months. Stiles would prefer to take this slow because he’s not entirely sure how many more heartbreaks he can stomach before giving up.

“Ask Lydia,” Stiles says, tugging Brett closer, and starts walking again, “she’ll tell you I turn into a people pleaser whenever I’m dating someone, and I have a knack for finding the wrong people.” He smiles a little, even though he hates that he cannot stop talking about this on their first fucking date. This should be lighthearted. This should be fun. Stiles lets out a breath. “You probably have no idea how appreciated it made me feel when you told me you booked a hotel room instead of assuming we’ll end up fucking anyway… or thinking I owe you something because of your troubles.”

Brett huffs out a breath. “I came to see you, why would you owe me anything?”

“Because you were the one who traveled.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you.” Brett squints and pulls him close again, letting go of his hand in favor of wrapping his arm around his shoulders instead. “If Satomi heard I expected you to have sex with me, she’d drop her Buddhist beliefs for the five seconds it took her to break both of my legs.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh. “I probably wouldn’t have said no.”

“And I probably would’ve fucked you exactly the way you were begging for.”

Stiles stops in his tracks and stares up at Brett, eyes wide in surprise. You were begging for? He turns and looks over his shoulder, seeing the little girl in the distance. There’s a couple walking towards them, their dog excitedly jumping up and down. This is not the place to talk about this. “What?” Stiles asks anyway because, seriously, what the fuck? There’s no way Brett could know how sexually frustrated he’s been in most of his relationships. And he was, fucking hell, he really was. “What are you talking about?” Even though he’s not sure he actually wants to hear the answer.

Chuckling, Brett sips on his mocha and walks back to him. “I walked in on you and this black-haired guy during a house party.”

That sounds a lot like Donovan. Wonderful. Of course, he has Brett walking in on him during one of his worst relationships. That’s just his luck. Stiles clears his throat, staring at the ground. “That’s not… I mean, that wasn’t—“

“Good?” Brett looks sympathetic. “Yeah, that was pretty obvious.”

Stiles wishes the ground would open up beneath him. He covers his face with his free hand, feeling cheeks heat up. Oh, god. “How long did you—“ Stiles swallows, unable to finish this sentence. This is horrifying.

Quiet laughter reaches his ears, and Stiles honestly has no fucking idea what’s so funny. “Long enough to know I could do it better,” Brett informs him with the confidence only someone like him can possess — he says it like he means it, and considering who he’s talking to, Brett is probably right about it too. People back in Beacon Hills were, and most likely still are, fawning over him. Brett does not have to go home alone. When he wanted to have sex, he has options. That’s not a reputation you get from just looking hot.

Stiles remembers wanting to get with Brett, but then Liam joined their pack, Mason followed soon after, just like multiple relationships that were different degrees of terrible. He’s not a good judge when it comes to his romantic partners. He has a knack for finding pieces of shit to date. Brett is either one of them, or the universe decided that he’s allowed to have something good for once in his life. He lowers his hand and looks up, pretending like neither of them knows how embarrassed he really is. “Didn’t think you’d be into watching other people have sex.”

Brett chuckles, brushing a finger along Stiles’ jaw. “I’m not.” He smirks and leans down, pressing his mouth against his ear. “I watched you. Only you…” His voice is ever so low, and there’s no mistaking that Brett knows exactly what he’s doing to him by whispering those words, “how you clenched your fists. I saw you grinding your teeth.” He wraps his arm around him, and Stiles steps closer, hiding his face against Brett’s shoulder. “You were so frustrated because he couldn’t give you what you want… or didn’t care to.”

Didn’t care to sounds a lot more like Donovan. Stiles is pretty sure he could have given him everything he wanted if he hadn’t dated him merely for being the sheriff’s kid. Seeing how often Donovan wanted sex, there probably was some sort of attraction there but that doesn’t change the fact that he pursued him mostly because he thought he’d get away with his bullshit by occasionally having dinner with his dad and acting like he gave a shit.

“The bar isn’t particularly high,” Brett continues, lowering his voice even further as people walk past them, “but just so you know, I would’ve fucked you harder if you’d begged me like that.”

Stiles groans against Brett’s shoulder, cheeks burning with heat. “Shut up.”

“I would’ve made you come first,” Brett says, clearly ignoring his plea to stop talking. “I would’ve made sure everyone at that party knew who’s fucking you into the mattress. I would’ve done everything you wanted me to do, Gorgeous.” How can he say things like this when Brett good and well knows they’re not going home together tonight? How is Stiles supposed to sleep? How is he supposed not to beg Brett to come to his place with him? The guy hasn’t even kissed him yet. They held hands for five minutes. How—? Brett chuckles. “I could go for some ice cream right about now, what about you?”

Yes. Stiles nods, not entirely sure he’s able to look Brett — or anyone for that matter — in the eye again. Still, something cold sounds good. Very good.

———

Stiles made a lot of impulsive decisions in his life. Most of them made him question his sanity halfway through. For the first time, he does not wonder if he’s gone mad. In fact, he’s pretty fucking sure he made the right decision, and still, Stiles struggles to knock on Brett’s hotel room door. They had a great date. Brett told him he’d pick him up for lunch tomorrow. Everything felt like Brett wanted to see him again as much as Stiles, but there’s this part of him that remains terrified of being rejected. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Just knock. Just knock on that fucking—

“Your anxiety is stressing me out.”

Stiles jolts and widens his eyes. “Hi… hey.” He grins and scratches the back of his neck. Brett is only wearing a towel, and Stiles has never felt this unsure about anything in his fucking life. Fuck. This is not how he planned this to go. He tried to be smoother. He tried to be a bit more confident. He got over the awkwardness after standing ten minutes in front of his flat with a butt plug, trying to get a cab, and then going for the subway instead. That was an interesting half an hour.

“You wanna come in?” Brett steps aside.

Nodding, Stiles slips past him hastily, biting his bottom lip. Yeah, that plug is still— fuck, what is he doing? This is so going to backfire.

The door closes with a quiet click. A moment later, Brett places a hand on Stiles’ neck, thumb drawing a small circle over his sensitive skin. “Are you okay?” The touch alone makes him want to curl into the taller boy. He’s so gone on him. How the fuck is that even possible?

“Sorry, I just…” Stiles swallows, trailing off and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Should he just spit it out? It’s probably better because Brett will easily catch him in his lie. For now, his anxiety might cover up the other very telling chemosignals. But that might not last all that long with Brett this close in only a fucking towel. “I wanted to see you.” There. That’s still very true, yet he’s not kicking the door in.

Brett smiles and cups Stiles’ cheek with both hands. Please, kiss me. It would be so much easier. Stiles is terrible at making the first step. “Good because staying away from you was hard.” He brushes his thumbs over Stiles’ cheeks. For the flicker of a second, Brett’s eyes drop to his mouth. He wants to kiss him, but he doesn’t because Stiles said he’d rather go slow, and Satomi seemed to have raised her foster son well.

And that’s kind of everything Stiles needs to know. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said earlier today.”

Brett blinks and opens his mouth. This is the first time Stiles has seen him at a loss for words. It’s kind of adorable. “Uh…” Brett shakes his head and takes to step back, working his fingers through his wet hair. “I didn’t say it to convince you to have sex with me.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Stiles smiles and pushes his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Brett continues, and he looks almost a little flustered; which is surprising because they’re talking about Brett Talbot out of all people, “I’m happy you’re here, and I wanted to have sex with you ever since you mouthed off to me the first time I saw you.”

Ever since— fuck. Stiles presses his lips together, but the grin slips onto his face despite his best efforts. “That was almost two years ago,” he says, sitting down on the bed very carefully. Knowing Brett wants him just as much and seeing him stand a foot away from him in nothing but a towel isn’t exactly making Stiles want all of this any less.

“What can I say?” Brett chuckles, but his eyes follow every single movement Stiles makes, “I’m a very patient person. Plus, I like my legs in one piece.”

“That’s all very chivalrous of you, but, trust me, I would not have tortured myself with taking the subway at this hour if I didn’t want you.” Especially not with a plug, but Brett doesn’t need to know that yet. Stiles hooks his index finger around Brett’s pinkie and raises a brow. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Stiles really wanted to take things slow, but something about Brett makes it impossible. He’s never hated going home alone as much as he did today — and it’s not just because of his promises from earlier. There’s something else there. Something stronger.

Sighing, Brett laces their fingers together. “You sure about this, huh?”

“You said you’d do it better,” Stiles says in a low voice, looking up at Brett. “You should’ve interrupted him, showed him how good you can make me feel.” He licks his lips, smiling almost innocently. “Showed him how a werewolf pleases their mate.”

Brett’s eyes flash dangerously, and the next thing he knows, Stiles is pinned to the mattress. Brett is hovering above him, face inches away from his. “Mate is a weighty word to throw around after one date,” he growls. Finally, finally, Brett Talbot’s famous control is cracking. His eyes are still burning yellow, and he’s smirking around what seems to be fangs. Fucking werewolves. “We mate for life, Gorgeous. Let me at least buy you dinner first.” We mate for life, he says, like Stiles doesn’t already know that since he’s been researching werewolves after Scott was bitten.

Stiles laughs and cups Brett’s jaw, pressing his thumb against the corner of his mouth. “I know what I said,” he whispers, and Brett goes very still above him, “and I know what I want.”

Silence hangs in the air for a few very long seconds. Brett closes his eyes, leaning into Stiles’ touch. He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s gathering his control because when he looks at him again, his eyes are blue and he smirks. “So,” he drawls, brushing their lips together, “I can ruin you for everybody else.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, but Stiles nods anyway. “Yes, ruin me.”

Brett kisses him, sighing softly as if to say what took you so long. A good question, but one Stiles doesn’t want to discuss right now. Because he felt something click into place too. It’s like he’s been waiting for this very moment forever. His eyes flutter shut, and he parts his lips for Brett’s tongue, melting into the kiss. He moves his hand to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as Brett pushes a hand under his shirt. By the looks of it, Stiles isn’t the only one exceptionally impatient because Brett tugs on it one second and helps getting it over his head the next.

Grinning, Brett lies down next to him.

Stiles licks his lips. “What?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Brett says, tracing his fingers over Stiles’ chest. “I’ve been thinking how to talk to you, but you were always with somebody else.” He’s pressing his mouth to his jaw, dragging his thumb over Stiles’ nipple.

Stiles gasps, unable to look away from Brett’s face, whose eyes follow his thumb, tracing invisible lines over his chest, getting closer and closer to the scar across his stomach. Swallowing, Stiles squeezes Brett’s hand and holds his breath. “I—“

“I have tattoos instead of scars.” Brett shifts to lean over him again and kisses the corner of his mouth. “One for being hunted by Monroe.” He lets go of Stiles’ hand and places it over the scar on his stomach. “One for being almost killed with a garrote.” His mouth moves to the crook of his neck, sucking skin between his teeth.

Closing his eyes, Stiles leans his head to the side. The hand on his scar is still present, but he relaxes into the touch, feels heat spreading through his whole body. He whimpers when Brett releases his skin, licking the abused spot before moving down.

“One for being poisoned.” Brett kisses his way down Stiles’ chest. “One for running into an alpha before Satomi took us in.” The hand on his scar moves down, bypassing Stiles’ dick purposefully, to scratch at the inside of his thigh instead. “One for pissing off Cora Hale when I was four.” He looks up at him, smirking now when he drags his lips over the scar, sucking on his skin here and there, probably knowing exactly what he’s doing to Stiles — even though Stiles didn’t even know that was possible. He loathes that thing, and then Brett fucking Talbot comes along, acting as if it’s something to worship. “You’re gorgeous, Stiles, you know that?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t know that.

But Brett doesn’t expect an answer. He flashes him a grin and moves back up, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s a lot different than the one before; a kiss with teeth capturing his lower lip and curious fingers slipping past boxer briefs and sweatpants to curl around his dick. Stiles moans at the contact, clenching around the plug. Fuck.

Brett chuckles. “So impatient.”

“Yes,” Stiles breathes, and he’s really, really not prepared to drag this out for long — not when he’s fingered himself open, not when he’s worn this fucking plug for however long it took to get from his flat to where he is now, not when Brett’s jerking him off painfully slow. His need is urgent, has been since he came home after their date. “Brett,” he whispers as if he somehow still needed to get the werewolf’s attention. He rolls them around, straddling Brett’s hips, and grabs his hand. Licking his lips, he guides the werewolf’s hands to his ass — unable to stop the moan when a finger bumps against the plug.

Blue eyes flash yellow. “Fuck.” Brett places a finger against the plug, applying just enough pressure that it moves. It’s not much, not much at all, but Stiles whines. It’s no longer enough. He needs more. So much more. Preferably right now.

“Fuck,” Brett repeats. For a few moments, he’s just staring at Stiles, almost as if he’s not entirely sure about what’s happening. But he’s moving the plug in small circles. His other hand starts to work on his own dick, and there’s a look on his face— fuck. “You wanted to go slow,” he whispers, and his eyes darken with every word. The smirk returns. “I didn’t think you’d be so needy.”

Stiles moans. “Please.”

“Okay, okay, Gorgeous.” Brett grabs his waist and turns them around again. It seems like he got the message because he doesn’t waste any time with getting rid of Stiles’ sweatpants and boxer briefs in one go. Brett kisses his shoulder, settling between his thighs, and looks up at him with dark eyes. “You’re going to talk to me, all right? All the way through. I need to know you like what I’m doing.” His fingers dance over the inside of his thighs. Every single touch feels electric.

Stiles laughs breathlessly. He’s not anxious exactly, but his nerves are very present despite feeling more than comfortable with him. “Is that an ego thing?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through Brett’s messy hair. This guy has absolutely no business being that pretty, and Stiles shouldn’t have any business being in his hotel bed seconds away from what he can only assume is going to be amazing sex.

“No,” Brett whispers, running his lips over his collarbone before looking up at him, expression serious yet not without a small grin. “But I can only pick up on so much, Gorgeous, and I really—“ he bends down to kiss him “—want you to feel good.” His hand returns to the plug, and he carefully works it out of him.

Stiles whines at the loss, staring at Brett whose eyes are locked on the plug. Something crosses his expression. Stiles licks his lips, curling his fingers around his dick. “Please,” he repeats, and he moans when Brett looks up at him with an unspoken command, “I can’t— don’t tease me.” Brett can tease him all he wants the next time they’re having sex. He doesn’t care. But not tonight. Not tonight. He’s going to lose his mind if Brett isn’t going to get a move on. “There’s lube in my sweatpants.”

Brett chuckles and drops the plug somewhere beside them. “So desperate,” he says in a low voice, but he sits back on his heels to reach for the hastily discarded clothing item. “Can’t say hate it.” He smirks, “but I need you to be a little more patient.”

Grimacing, Stiles props himself up on his elbow. Patience is really not something he has right now. Not even in the slightest. He wraps his fingers around Brett’s dick, dragging his thumb over his tip — Brett’s eyes flutter shut, and he pauses in his movements for a few seconds. There’s a slight flush to his skin. His mouth falls open for a deep breath. Stiles swallows. How can one person look so fucking hot? It’s unfair. So fucking unfair, and Stiles will have his time with exploring every single inch of Brett’s body at one point. But not today.

Well, at least not now.

Brett opens his eyes again. “I’d be a lot quicker if you stopped distracting me.” He grins when he leans down to kiss Stiles, grunting in dismay when Stiles lets go of his dick to curl his fingers in his hair instead — Brett has probably absolutely no clue how head over heels he already is for him. It’s better that way. Brett’s ego is big enough for the two of them. No need to feed it any more.

Stiles runs his hand up and down Brett’s back, dragging his nails over his warm skin. Brett shudders above him, muscles contracting under his touch. He could kiss him forever, touch him forever, just keeping him close and— fuck, seeing Brett leave tomorrow is going to be the fucking worst. The next seven months are going to be even harder, Stiles can already tell. “Brett,” he whispers between kisses, “you’re killing me here. Please.”

Chuckling, Brett breaks the kiss. “You’re impossible.”

“I just really need you,” Stiles whispers, gasping when Brett finally pushes two fingers into him. His eyes flutter shut, and he presses against his hand. Luckily, Brett starts working his fingers in and out of him quickly, almost as if he’s getting more and more impatient himself. That’s more like it. That’s good. A third finger quickly joins the other two. Stiles moans, and he’s reaching for his dick.

But Brett catches his hand. “No,” he says, sounding surprisingly wrecked. “No touching.” He crooks his fingers a little and hits that spot deep inside him.

“Brett.”

Another chuckle reaches his ears. “I’m sorry, what was that?” This fucking— Brett presses a finger against his prostate, massaging it with just enough pressure to be absolutely fucking torturous in the best kind of way.

Stiles curls his hands into fists. “Brett,” he moans, arching his back, pushing against his fingers. Heat burns in his veins, and he feels so— fuck. “Brett, please.” He opens his eyes, swallows, and forgets how to breathe when he sees Brett— his eyes are a bright yellow, lips parted and he doesn’t look away from his fingers buried in Stiles’ ass. That is, that view is a lot. Too much, almost. “Fuck,” Stiles breathes because… air— fucking hell. If this already feels like heaven. “Fuck me, Brett,” he sounds as wrecked as he feels, but he finally gets Brett’s attention again.

And the look he gives him—

Brett lets go of Stiles’ hand and pulls his fingers out. Fuck that feeling. It’s the worst, but it’s only going to get better from here on out. “How do you want me?” he asks, reaching for the lube again.

How do you want me? Stiles takes a deep breath through his nose. This guy is trying to kill him, isn’t he? “I want you inside of me,” Stiles whispers, licking his lips as Brett’s skilled fingers spread the lube over himself. Everything this guy does makes Stiles want him so much more. Even his stupid chuckle makes Stiles want to fuck this jerk even more. He probably should be ashamed of how a single date and a few perfectly chosen words convinced him to throw all of his relationship resolutions out of the window. But there’s just something about Brett, something so fucking addicting. He can’t stay away, and he certainly doesn’t want to.

Taking a deep breath, Brett grabs the base of his dick and positions himself. “Ready?”

Stiles shifts a bit, lifting his legs and hooks them around Brett. “Have been for a while,” he whispers, weirdly thrilled when he gets nothing but a groan in response. His previous partners weren’t particularly vocal, but neither was Stiles. Talking felt extremely awkward. His pleas were usually ignored as well. Brett is attentive, Brett is ready to do whatever Stiles wants him to do, and it’s the best fucking feeling in the world. Words have been all it takes for Stiles to crack and crumble and take the subway with a plug buried inside of him. It says a lot about his previous partners, doesn’t it? So, when Brett finally pushes in, he has absolutely no qualms about begging Brett to hold him close.

And Brett follows the instruction without a flicker of hesitation. “Fuck,” he moans — a sentiment Stiles would very much agree with if he didn’t have to focus so much on breathing. Because fuck, fuck. “You’re tight.”

All Stiles can do is moan breathlessly. He’s not even entirely sure what to do with his hands, so he wraps his arms around Brett the moment he’s close enough and holds onto him while he’s pushing in ever so slowly, making Stiles feel every fucking inch. It’s so good and too much at the same time, and he cannot decide if he just wants Brett to just go for it or stop until Stiles remembers how breathing works.

Brett whispers something into his ear Stiles doesn’t catch because he’s finally buried inside of him, and that’s— Stiles presses his head into the pillow, moaning breathlessly. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and digs his heels into the mattress.

“Talk to me, Gorgeous.” Brett nudges their noses together and runs his right hand up and down Stiles’ side. “What do you want?” Everything. Nothing. He’s never been so fucking overwhelmed yet felt so good during sex. That’s not his experience, and Brett hasn’t even done much yet.

Stiles breathes in through his mouth and reaches for Brett, digging his fingers into his thigh. “Don’t move,” he whispers and forces his eyes open again. “Please.” It doesn’t hurt, not really, but the stretch is still uncomfortable, and — fuck — he needs a minute to get used to Brett’s size.

Brett props himself up and tilts his head to the side, smiling at him. “You okay?”

“More than okay, I just…” he trails off and sighs, taking another deep breath in the hopes of calming down his rapid heart. “Come here.” Stiles tightens his embrace and parts his lips for a kiss. He melts into it, feeling hot and too good and comfortable. They’re so close, so fucking close, and his whole world shrinks until it consists of nothing but Brett and the bed they’re on and the room they’re in. He doesn’t want to think about anything else, feel anything else. Curling his fingers into Brett’s hair, Stiles rolls his hips. They both moan into the kiss and when Stiles does it again, Brett breaks it, eyes squeezed shut tightly. It almost seems like he’s hanging onto shreds of his control. Stiles wonders how much it takes to make him lose it. He runs his fingers through Brett’s hair, moaning into his ear as he keeps moving back and forth.

After a few moments, Brett opens his eyes again. He grins and kisses the shell of Stiles’ ear. “Wanna ride me?” This asshole and his unbreakable grip on his control.

“Yes,” Stiles breathes anyway because he’s never done it before, and he’s got a goal now. This ends with Brett pinning him to the bed and fucking him. He’d probably do it if Stiles asked him to, but where would be the fun in that?

Brett pulls out and rolls onto his back, pushing himself up until he leans against the headboard. His hands immediately find Stiles’ waist when he straddles his hips. He licks his lips.

Stiles grabs Brett’s dick and sinks back onto him. His own patience is cracking too, and he really, really needs to move, and he wants Brett to fuck him as hard as he can — but not because he asked him. He wants Brett to do it because he can’t help it. But cracking Brett Talbot won’t be easy. Stiles starts moving again and grabs the headboard himself for support. Slowly, he builds up speed, raises himself higher, but he makes sure to keep his eyes on Brett, makes sure to keep as close an eye on his expression as possible.

“Fuck,” Brett breathes, banging his head against the headboard. “Stiles—“

Fingers dig into his hips, hopefully leaving bruises, something that reminds Stiles of what’s happening right now, so he can look at himself in the mirror and see the proof until he’s able to see Brett again. Stiles moans, letting his head fall forward. He smirks at Brett, getting another groan in response. Licking his lips, Stiles bends down to kiss him and stops moving. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done, but Brett makes a sound in the back of his throat and grabs the back of his neck to yank Stiles close — that reaction is fucking worth it.

“You feel so good inside me,” Stiles whispers against Brett’s lips. To be perfectly honest, he’s not entirely sure where this is coming from. He’s never been like this in a relationship. But Brett is— Brett. He makes him feel so fucking amazing, better than he’s ever felt before, and fuck, Stiles wants Brett to know it.

Brett opens his mouth, but Stiles starts moving again, and whatever he’s trying to say goes under in a moan. He keeps him close, trying to kiss him again. But they’re really just breathing into each other’s mouths because, fuck, this new angle makes Brett’s dick brush up against his prostate deliciously every single time. Talented fingers curls around his dick as well, working him perfectly in time to Stiles fucking himself on Brett’s dick. His thighs are going to kill him tomorrow. Brett moans his name, and this time Stiles has to stop moving or he would’ve come right then and there.

He leans his head against Brett’s shoulder, breathing heavily. A growl reaches his ears. It’s so quiet, Stiles is pretty sure he’s not supposed to hear it. He grins and kisses Brett’s shoulder then his jaw. All Stiles wants is to mark his skin, claim him as his the way Brett could. “So good,” he moans into Brett’s ear. If he cannot mark him physically, Stiles is going to make sure he’s going to remember this for as long as possible. Stiles moves once again, keeping his mouth pressed to the shell of Brett’s ear. He moans, curling his right hand around the nape of Brett’s neck. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Brett, fuck.”

Brett bangs his head against the headboard again. His hands return to Stiles’ hips, but this time, he’s not just holding on to him. He moans, and his fingers twitch, almost as if he’s having to remind himself that he gave Stiles full control over this situation.

Stiles bites Brett’s earlobe, slowing his movements again, and comes to another stop. The growl is louder this time, and the grip on his hips tightens, but Brett still resists the urge to move him the way he wants to. Stiles chuckles, “regret it yet?”

“You little shit.”

“To dla mnie przyjemność*, Babe.”

This time, Brett makes no secret of his growl. He lifts Stiles up and pushes him into the mattress. “I’ve been such a gentleman,” he snarls, sinking into him without much of a preamble. “And you, you—“ There’s a dangerous smile on his lips and he leans down until they’re nose to nose. “You think it’s funny to tease me, huh?”

Stiles raises his brows. “A little bit.”

“Oh, Gorgeous, you got the wrong werewolf,” Brett whispers, grabbing Stiles’ wrists to pin them over his head. Yeah, that’s definitely not the wrong werewolf. He’s propping himself up on his elbow and pulls out a little. “If I’d known before,” Brett whispers, thrusting back into him. Oh, fuck. “I would’ve pinned you down the second you walked into my hotel room.” He’s pulling out more each time, starting to fuck him in earnest now. “But you were so innocent this morning.”

Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Stiles wraps his legs around Brett’s waist, moaning with each thrust. His dick is throbbing between them, begging for attention Brett surely isn’t going to give it, not with how tight his hold on Stiles’ wrist is.

“Are you innocent?”

“N—no,” Stiles moans, still remembering Brett’s order to talk to him. “Brett, please.” There’s a familiar pressure building. He’s already so fucking close, and he’s not going to last long with Brett fucking him like that.

And Brett is most likely well aware of it. He presses his lips to the shell of Stiles’ ear. “Regret it yet?” They both know he doesn’t, and Brett doesn’t wait for an answer. He fucks him hard and fast, fucks him like he’s born to do it, whispering words into his ear that make less and less sense. But Stiles doesn’t really care, not when he’s so close, not when every time Brett slams into him, he hits that spot.

“I— I’m—“ Stiles curls his hands into fists, tries to twist them free from the grip, but Brett is making sure he’s not getting free.

“Let go, Gorgeous,” he breathes, kissing the side of his neck and down to his shoulder. “Let go.” He snaps his hips forward.

And just like that, his orgasm slams into him. He’s arching his back, spilling his release over their chests, and clenches around Brett as his climax takes over his whole body for a few blissful moments. His vision blurs, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck,” he breathes, and he feels like repeating it, because Brett continues to fuck him, but his thrusts are short, without rhythm, and just before it feels like too much, he stills and moans Stiles’ name. The grip around his wrists turns vice-like for a few seconds.

Letting out a breath, Brett collapses on top of him.

Stiles kisses his temple and finally gets his hands back as well. Smiling, he runs his fingers through Brett’s hair. “I thought there’s be more biting involved.”

Brett snorts out a laugh. “You know I can’t claim you as my mate yet, right?” He props himself up, grinning a little. “I’m a beta. Alphas have mates.”

“I knew that.” He totally did not know that. Somehow, that information must’ve slipped past his attention when he researched all of that.

Humming, Brett pushes himself up on his elbows. “So,” he drawls, the grin on his face more than telling — yeah, he’s well aware Stiles had absolutely no idea, “you also know what happens when I claim you as an alpha?” He quirks a brow, probably already aware that the answer to this very question would be no as well. Because Stiles only remembers the whole biting part, and that humans aren’t necessarily turned into werewolves when it’s a claiming bite. That’s most likely why he assumed betas could do it too.

Stiles licks his lips. “What?”

Brett kisses him again, pushing his tongue past pliant lips, and pulls out — not the most pleasant feeling — only to push something smaller back into him. His plug, and his body, the fucking traitor, doesn’t even resist.

“Oh, what—“ Stiles squirms a little, scowling at the weird sensation.

“It’s called a knot.” Brett falls onto his back next to him and pulls Stiles towards him, running a finger up and down his spine. “Your little plug is not at all the right size, but it does the job… for now, at least.” Smirking, Brett presses his finger against the plug again.

Stiles jolts and slaps his chest. “Don’t.” He’s way too sensitive to let him play around right now.

“Want me to take it out?” Brett resumes tracing his spine.

“No.” Stiles glances up at him, grinning a little when he’s faced with burning yellow eyes. Coming here was the best decision he’s made in a very long time.

---

* "To dla mnie przyjemność, Babe." - "It's my pleasure, Babe."

[inxspacetime]

michael​:

He didn’t flinch this time as Tommy’s hands went close to his face. He trusted him not to touch him unless asked.

It was just a small thing….but as a child, as a young adult, nobody had ever cared about what upset him or if he wanted to do something. Years of people screaming at him to speak, when Thorn had ripped his voice from him.

He was so used to being on his own, to ask for help was something he gave up on. But he wanted to show Tommy what he had been doing….what he was truly scared of.

He lifted the hand with the Thorn brand, offering it to Tommy. The only way he could let someone in who didn’t share his blood was through touch.

He showed Tommy his walks, he had Tommy hear just a little of Thorn’s lies bombarding him. He showed the young man him being a sneak at the windows, watching the life he should have had play out in houses all over the neighborhood.

Watching the happy families…..his own fear of turning on his children. Of being unable to stop the curse.

His fear of hurting Steven, of chasing away Michaela…..of threatening Corey. All these and more as he fought harder than ever to keep his family safe.

Including Tommy.

Tommy looked to the hand as it was offered to him, the marking on his wrist especially noticeable from the angle. He stared for a brief moment, scanning over the symbol he must have seen hundreds of times before in his research, and more recently on Michael himself. But the gesture was a simple one, it didn’t take much thought at all to understand what he was being asked. And so the hand on his collar dropped slightly, finding its way to the bigger hand and grabbing onto it. Everything he saw next, the visions that flashed across his eyes, as if he were looking through Michael’s, it wasn’t anything he could have ever prepared himself for. He saw what he saw, felt what he felt, feared what he feared. The constant whispering, the things they said; the things they tried to convince him of. And in all of this, he didn’t see a monster or even a boogeyman, he saw Michael. A man who was tortured to no end, dating back to the beginning. He saw him on the outside looking in on a life he was robbed of ever having, doing whatever he could to keep the evil inside of him from spilling over to affect the ones around him that he cared about.

And surprisingly enough, Tommy managed to make the list. Well, it wasn’t much of a surprise. He showed the older time and time again that he only had his best interest at heart - his and his children. He went above and beyond, past limits that others have died trying to reach, to make a space where he felt welcomed and not hated like he did in the rest of the world. And while the signs were there that Michael appreciated his efforts, there was no firmer confirmation then getting a peek into his mind. A frown twitched at his lips, sadness in his expression as he finally got a small look at what it was truly like to be Michael. His free hand reached up to connect with his own, holding Michael’s between them both. Undoing the more severe effects of the curse wasn’t possible, Michael would stalk and kill until Thorn killed him, but the least he could do in the meantime was give him a chance to feel something other than the constant misery he was dragged into.

“You have every right to be scared. It’s already made you do terrible things, to people you never would’ve hurt on your own. I know it can’t be easy when you fight it, I see what it takes out of you, but don’t think it doesn’t go unnoticed when you do. No matter what your head tries to tell you; everyone here cares so much about you. Steven, Michaela, Corey, me… everybody. We care and we worry about just as much as you worry about us.” It may have sounded silly to worry for someone like Michael. The man had been burned alive and still walked the earth over twenty years later. But in the time he’s been there, he’s evolved into more than the figure in his nightmares, the vision that plagued him. But now he was … family. The fear he once stirred inside of him melted into comfort, even as he held a hand he knew had been used to take countless lives. To further prove himself, he brought his hand to his lips and brushed them against one of his knuckles, green eyes staring up into his to make sure he wasn’t crossing a line.

[engie-ivy]

Marlene’s little brother has a thing for Sirius, because who doesn't have a thing for Sirius? Marlene is freaking out, and everyone thinks it's just hilarious. Remus would've thought it was hilarious too, had Marlene’s little brother not been very close in age, cute, witty, and oh so bloody charming.

Somewhat longer fic that will be added to my Crush Confessions Series! 3756 words, so not that long. Wolfstar Fluff, of course😎

Muggle Charms

James Potter’s garden party is the event of the summer. Everyone gets together at the Potter estate for a day of listening to music, swimming in the lake (yes, there’s a lake on the grounds of the Potter estate), and playing friendly Quidditch matches. Mrs Potter walks around with all sorts of delicious foods, James and Sirius fly their brooms above the lake and make bets who dares to jump off from the greatest height, Mary and Emmeline are sunbathing and make bets who will need to be healed first.

It had started the summer after first year with just the four Marauders, but every year, their number has grown, and this year is the largest group thus far.

Marlene McKinnon is last to arrive, and, as usual, her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Everyone, come meet my little brother!” She shouts across the field.

The McKinnons have four children. Marlene’s mother and two of her siblings are Muggles, while the rest have magical abilities. Marlene’s sister is the oldest of the siblings. She’s a Muggle who works as a primary school teacher. Despite growing up with a father who’s a wizard, she has always felt slightly uncomfortable around magic, but she loves her family fiercely and is very protective over her younger siblings. As she’s much older than Marlene, she has always been more like a second mother.

Next comes Marlene’s older brother, who’s wizard, but has finished Hogwarts long ago. He now works in the Sales Department for a company that develops novel potions against levitation- and portkey-sickness. According to Marlene he’s a serious businessman by day, and a giant goofball by night.

Last is Marlene’s younger brother. He’s a Muggle, but where Marlene’s sister likes to pretend magic doesn’t exist, he thinks it mighty fascinating. He and Marlene are incredibly close, writing each other constantly and hanging out as often as they can when Marlene was home from Hogwarts. She has never brought him to James’ garden party, though. He works in the Food Service Industry, and the bright summer days on which James plans his parties are the days on which he most likely has to work. This year, however, he had managed to get the day off.

The first thing Remus thinks is that the McKinnons have good genes. He can’t really tell which of the two siblings is older, which means they must be very close in age. The boy has the same thick, blond hair and bright blue eyes as Marlene, as well as the same freckles from the sun. He’s short for a guy, barely taller than Marlene, but he’s quite muscular, with broad shoulders. All in all, Marlene’s younger brother is a very cute guy.

“Everyone, this is Miles!” Marlene says, when everyone has gathered around. “Let’s see... Here we have James Potter, he’s the host.”

Miles grins at James. “Some house you’ve got here, mate. Thanks for having me!”

James grins back and lifts his beer. “Cheers, mate!”

“James is Lily’s boyfriend,” Marlene says. “You’ve already met Lily-” Miles gives Lily a warm smile “-and of course you know Dorcas.”

“Hullo Dorky.”

“Hiya Miley.”

“And here we have my other girls, Alice Fortescue, Mary McDonald and Emmeline Vance.” Marlene points each of the girls out, and Miles gives them all a friendly nod.

“And these two are the Prewetts, Fabian and Gideon- don’t worry about who’s who, none of us actually knows.”

“Oi!”

“And this is Caradoc Dearborn, and this Benjy Fenwick, so miraculously you’re not the shortest guy here.”

“Marlene!”

“And here we have the rest of the renegades, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.”

The chance in Miles is instant.

The polite smile he was wearing turns into a coy smile, as he gives Sirius a not-so-subtle once-over, though Remus doesn’t think it was ever meant to be subtle. Miles takes a step forward towards Sirius. “Well, hello there.”

Remus can’t blame him. He would’ve reacted the same had he been in Miles’ position (alright, maybe he would’ve turned into a blushing, stuttering mess and forget his own name if he were suddenly faced with a guy like Sirius, instead of step forward with an enticing smile and flirtatious greeting, but that’s beside the point). Sirius looks bloody amazing. His swimming trunks are clinging to his legs, and his damp hair is hanging over his bare chest, with little droplets dripping down his muscular body.

Sirius grins knowingly at Miles. “Hi.”

Marlene’s head whirls around from Miles to Sirius to Miles and back to Sirius, so fast Remus worries she might get a whiplash.

“No,” she says. “No, nope, uh-uh, absolutely not. Not. Happening. No.”

She steps between her brother and Sirius, facing the latter, and jabbing a finger against his chest. “You are not going to try anything on my little brother, got it?”

Sirius holds up his hands and takes a step back. “I only said hi.”

Marlene looks at him suspiciously, like she suspects Sirius saying hi is some sort of secret seduction technique (which would actually explain a lot).

“C’mon Marls.” Miles moves to stand next to his sister, and throws an arm over her shoulder. He winks at Sirius. “We all just want to have a good time, don’t we?”

Marlene’s face is getting more red by the second. Her fingers are clutching her cardboard plate, causing it to rumple. She’s clenching her jaw, while intently staring at the pair a bit further on the field.

“I can’t bloody believe it,” she hisses. “If Black thinks I’ll let him hook up with my little brother, he has another thing coming!”

Miles had managed to catch Sirius when he went to grab a drink, and they have been chatting apart from the rest of the group for about half an hour now, to Marlene’s great distress, and everyone else’s amusement. Well, everyone else except for Remus, but he thinks he’s been hiding it quite well.

Remus doesn’t know how the guy does it, but Miles somehow manages to stand closer and closer to Sirius. He’s looking up at him through his lashes, with those big blue eyes and that damned smile, sometimes even going as far as to bite his lip. Sirius has definitely been blushing at some point!

While Remus is the only one who can emphasize with Marlene’s distress over the situation, he really doesn’t like how she’s blaming it all on Sirius, while evidently its her brother who’s acting like a little minx.

“Honestly, Marlene,” Lily says, shaking her head. “Didn’t you talk to Miles about there being an incredibly hot, single gay guy present?”

Remus agrees. Marlene should’ve known what would happen when she decided to introduce her brother to Sirius! You cannot bring him here knowing Sirius is looking like he does, and expect him not to react!

Marlene huffs indignantly. “My little brother is a precious angel who’s not interested in such a thing as ‘hot, single men’!”

Lily looks at Miles and Sirius. Miles seems to be laughing at something Sirius said, and touches his upper arm while doing so, letting his hand slide down Sirius’ bicep. Lily turns her head back to Marlene and raises her eyebrow.

Marlene just folds her arms over her chest and pointedly looks away.

Later, when Miles reaches up to brush a strand of hair from Sirius’ face, Marlene’s face has taken on a more purple colour. By this time, she has started angrily chewing on her cardboard plate.

Luckily, everyone’s too busy making fun of Marlene to notice Remus looks like he’s going to be sick.

Normally, a day at the Potter estate flies by, but Remus is positive this day lasts at least three times as long. But Remus has been getting through it. He hopes that after today, he won’t see Miles McKinnon of ever again. Well, he mostly hopes Sirius won’t see Miles McKinnon ever again, he can admit that . To himself, that is.

Currently, he’s sitting down with James, having a butterbeer. Just when he thinks he might make it through these last hours without further additions to his misery, Marlene comes striding their way, Dorcas on her heels.

“Potter,” she says, stopping in front of them and placing her fists on her hips. “You’ve got something I need, and I want it now!”

“Sorry McKinnon,” James says with a smirk. “I’m a one woman man.”

“In your dreams, you wanker,” Marlene snaps. “You’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, no?”

James takes off his glasses and starts polishing them with his robes. “I may or may not possess such a thing.”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “After seven years of going to school with you, I think I can safely say that you do. Well, I need you to use it. Miles asked Black to take him on a tour around the lake.” She scrunches up her nose. “And you have to follow them so you can report back to me whether Black has kept his paws off of my little brother!”

“More the other way around,” Remus mutters, but Marlene hears and glares at him.

“My sweet and innocent little brother would never do such a thing! He simply... wants to see the surroundings and needs Black for directions.”

Dorcas throws her head back and cackles loudly. “The only directions your ‘sweet and innocent little brother’ is interested in, is the fastest way to get into Sirius Black’s pants!”

Marlene directs a deadly glare at her.

Just when Remus thinks at least Dorcas knows what she’s talking about, she continues. “C’mon Marls, Miles can make his own decisions. Let the boys have some fun!”

Let the boys have some fun? That’s not a good idea! That’s the opposite of a good idea! That’s a terrible idea!

“Well,” Remus says, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “We’re on Mr and Mrs Potter’s property, and Miles has only just been introduced to the gang. I mean, he and Sirius barely know each other. I’d say it’d be rather inappropriate if something happens between them here and now. You don’t want Marlene’s brother to give off the wrong impression.”

James sighs. “What if I lend you the Invisibility Cloak, and you can follow them yourself?”

“Oh, no!” Marlene holds up her hands and takes a step back. “There are certain things I don’t ever want to see my little brother do, or hear my little brother say. If I were to... accidentally stumble upon them, I’d either have to Obliviate myself, or be scarred for life.”

Remus snorts. Not so sure about her brother being so innocent after all, is she?

“Well, Padfoot’s my brother!” James argues.

“Remember when I put in a good word for you with Lily, and finally got her to agree to go on a date with you?” Marlene plays her final card, and effectively.

“Fine!” James puts down his butterbeer and gets up. “Remus, let’s go.”

“What? Me? Why?”

“Because you got me into this, Mr ‘it’d be inappropriate’. And besides, I’ll feel like some perverted Peeping Tom spying on them alone.”

“So better to have two Peeping Toms?” Remus argues, but he knows it’s an argument he’s not going to win.

That’s how Remus finds himself in the place he wants to be least of all, crouched down under the Invisibility Cloak with James, and, after casting a quick Silencio over their footsteps, following on Sirius and Miles on their ‘casual, totally not romantic, definitely not a date’ stroll.

“-and once I’ve gained enough experience, I’d like to come back to London and open my own restaurant!” Miles finishes.

“That’s amazing, Miles!” Sirius exclaims. “I’ll definitely frequent!”

“As long as you don’t expect any free food just because you’re so handsome,” Miles teases.

Sirius gasps in pretend-shock. “I would never use my looks for such purposes!”

“Right,” Miles chuckles. “You be careful, Sirius Black. A face like yours is a powerful weapon.”

“Wow,” James whispers admiringly. “He’s good!”

Remus grits his teeth. Of bloody course Miles McKinnon is all charming and smooth, chatting Sirius up.

“What about you?” Miles asks. “What are your plans for the future, now that you’re some kind of strong and powerful wizard?”

“I’m starting my Healer training soon!” Sirius beams, and Remus can’t help but smile at the pride in his voice.

“That’s... like a doctor, right?” Miles asks.

“Yeah,” Sirius replies. “But without the cutting people open.” He shudders. “Definitely no cutting people open.”

“Oi!” Miles protests, bumping his shoulder against Sirius. “Doctors cut people open to save lives, you know. They don’t do it for a laugh.”

“I’m sorry!” Sirius quickly says. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s actually very impressive what Muggle doctors can do without magic, and the things they’ve come up with! I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Miles says, glancing at Sirius. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just... I was raised in this really conservative pureblood Wizarding family. I’m always afraid I’ll say something Muggle-phobic without realising.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad, honestly.”

“Good,” Sirius says, relieved. “I’m just... trying to be better.”

Miles smiles softly at him. “Just the fact that you’re trying already makes you better.”

They walk in comfortable silence for a moment, until Miles speaks again. “That must’ve been hard though, growing up in a family like that. Marlene already mentioned you’re living here now. Is that why?”

Sirius nods. “I ran away from home the summer before. Best decision I’ve ever made.” There’s a tightness in his voice, though, and an emotion in his eyes that makes Remus want to run towards him and pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Miles says sincerely. Then he gives Sirius a teasing smile. “Though I must say, it’s a good look on you, the whole ‘sexy rebel’-thing.”

Sirius barks a laugh, and the pained expression slides off his face. “Well, I’m glad my issues at least fit my anaesthetic!”

Remus doesn’t know whether he wants to bless Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile, or whether he wants to curse Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile.

“I bet you love provoking your family, don’t you?” Miles asks.

“That might just be my most favourite pastime,” Sirius replies sincerely.

Suddenly, Miles stops walking, so Sirius stops as well and turns back to face him.

Miles takes a step towards him. “I bet it would really provoke your family if you were to make out with a boy, a Muggle boy at that.”

Sirius swallows and his face slightly flushes. “That... That’ll definitely do the trick, yeah.”

Miles comes even closer, now almost standing chest-to-chest with Sirius, and he tilts his head up and leans in.

James still looks mighty impressed with Miles’ flirting tactics, while Remus wonders if the sound of his heart shattering might give them away.

Suddenly, Sirius steps back. “Wait, stop. I... I can’t.”

Miles looks disappointed, but not too shocked. “Why not?” He asks. Then he jabs his finger against Sirius’ chest, much like his sister did earlier. “And I swear to god, Sirius Black, if it’s because I’m a Muggle you can stick that wand of yours up your-”

“No, no, no!” Sirius quickly says, whilst letting out a breathless laugh. “It’s not you, really, it’s me.”

Miles gives Sirius a stern look, while placing his fists on his hips, making Remus wonder whether they’re sure Marlene and Miles aren’t twins. “If you’re gonna give me that lame excuse, at least elaborate what it is about ‘not me, but you’ that makes you reject me. I mean, I’m not proposing a marriage here!”

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s... someone else. I mean, there’s not really, I don’t have someone else, but I have feelings for someone else. So therefore this-” He gestures between himself and Miles. “Just doesn’t feel right.”

Remus exchanges a look with James, who looks just as stunned as he is by this information.

Miles, though, just folds his arms over his chest and looks at Sirius thoughtfully for a moment. “So, Lupin then?”

Remus freezes. What? Him? Oh no. He’s not sure he can bear to hear Sirius’ denial. ‘Lupin? Remus? No, of course not! What in Godric’s name gave you that idea? Why the hell would I fancy Remus?’

However, Sirius just sighs and looks down at his shoes. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

Remus stares dumbfounded. It’s... true? He feels an eruption of butterflies in his stomach. Well, he always feels some butterflies when he sees Sirius, but now it’s like all those butterflies had babies, and those babies had babies again, creating an immense flutter.

“Nah,” Miles says. “If I had known for sure, I wouldn’t have made a move. I only had a suspicion, but I decided to take a chance anyway. I’m not too surprised by this turn of events, though.”

“It’s really the only reason,” Sirius says. “Because you’re bloody great, you know that? You’re gonna make some guy really happy one day. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Miles groans. “ ‘Its not you, it’s me’, ‘anyone would be lucky to have you’. Shall we go before you start telling me we can still be friends?”

Sirius grins. “Normally I’d suggest we at least pretend to have had a good snog, just to see if Marlene’s face can get any more purple, but I don’t want to give Remus the wrong impression. Not that he’d care,” he adds with a mutter.

Miles stops walking again. “What? Are you seri- No, Marlene warned me not to say that. Really?”

Sirius just blinks at him.

Miles shakes his head. “I mean, you asked if you were being obvious, well, you were nothing compared to Lupin. Although, that could just be me. I couldn’t help but notice when he’s looking at me like he wants me to catch fire every time I come near you. Wait. You wizards can actually do that, can’t you?”

Remus huffs. He wouldn’t have actually set Miles on fire! At least he doesn’t think so.

Sirius frowns at Miles. “You must be mistaken. Remus is nothing but pure kindness! He always makes everyone feel welcome! You can’t help but like Remus!”

A warm feeling spreads through Remus’ chest.

Miles just looks at Sirius, shaking his head. “You’re actually in love, aren’t you?”

Sirius blushes and looks away.

“Well,” Miles says. “You should tell him how you feel. He clearly feels the same. Then you can both stop this pining.”

James, who just had to process the shock of one of his best friends fancying another one of his best friends, now has to process the shock of his best friends fancying each other. He’s staring at Remus, and consequently trips over a rock. He does manage to catch is balance, but he lets out a loud yelp.

Miles stares at the empty spot behind them on the path, surprised, but Sirius’ eyes narrow in suspicion. He lifts his wand, and the next moment a gush of wind blows the Invisibility Cloak off of Remus and James.

To his credit, Miles recovers pretty quickly from seeing two people appear seemingly out of nowhere, including the person they were just talking about. He blinks a couple of times, then says “I suppose this works as well.”

Remus and Sirius are just staring at each other.

“Uhm...” James says. “I was sent here by miss McKinnon to escort the younger McKinnon back to the estate.” Because apparently awkward situations make him talk like he’s an eighteen century nobleman. “Off we go, young lad.”

Miles doesn’t protest when James grabs his arm and starts dragging him away, but he does turn around to give Sirius a thumbs up.

“We were sent here by McKinnon,” Remus quickly says, when he and Sirius are alone. “She wanted to know if anything would happen between you and her brother.” Remus takes a deep breath. “And maybe I wanted to know if anything would happen between you and him myself as well,” he says softly.

“Were you jealous?” Sirius asks. It sounds curious, not angry, judgemental or smug, just curious.

Still, Remus can’t help but pout, and he looks away. “Of course I was jealous. Bloody Miles McKinnon, with his big blue eyes, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at you, and being all cute, and witty, and charming.”

“You know, if you want Miles to snog you instead, you should hurry and you can probably still catch him,” Sirius says irritably.

“No!” Remus quickly says. “No. I just mean, I wish it was me. When he calls you handsome, when he brushes your hair away from your face, when he leans in to kiss you... I wish it was me doing those things.”

“Why don’t you?” Sirius whispers, staring at Remus intently.

“Because!” Remus says desperately. “Because I know how to be your friend, but if I even think about flirting with you, I turn into an awkward, rambling mess.”

The only thing that can possibly be going through Sirius’ mind right now is how the hell he let the sexy, confident, flirtatious boy walk away, to be stuck with the flustered heap of awkwardness that is Remus Lupin.

Remus stares down at his shoes. “I mean, I like you a lot, and also because I feel comfortable around you, I do, but when it comes to flirting, I suddenly get scared that you’ll laugh at me or something. I even think it’d be easier if you weren’t my friend, if we didn’t know each other so well. Then maybe I could-”

Remus stops talking when Sirius gently cups his cheek and tilts his head up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in, giving Remus enough time to pull away had he wanted to. Which, for the record, he absolutely doesn’t. Sirius presses their lips together. And it’s...

Well, it’s not awkward at all.

It’s fireworks, and symphonies, and the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s a sense of belonging, and knowing all is right with the world, and a feeling of coming home.

Both boys are a little out of breath when they pull back, more because of the intense emotions than because the kiss had been that passionate.

“See?” Sirius smiles at Remus. “If I want you to stop rambling, I can always just... interrupt.”

“Rude,” Remus mutters, before pulling Sirius back into another kiss.

[yslkook]

BORDERSZ (4)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook accompanies you on your journey to purchase a brand new car. jimin charms your pants off (or attempts to) and sora has a proposal for you that you don't quite say no to. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

It takes about two weeks for Jungkook to understand exactly what kind of car you were looking for- essentially a sturdy vehicle that would get you from point A to point B without fail. Something reliable, would last for years and years, something efficient. Not necessarily anything fancy or luxurious.

But Jungkook had finally got you to shyly confess that you wouldn’t mind having heated seats in your car. After all, it had been something you’d dreamed of ever since you had received your driver’s license-

“Nothing else? Just heated seats?” Jungkook implores curiously as he pours over your meticulous binder for the fifth time. Honestly, you didn’t really need his help. You already knew what you were doing. His presence at the dealership will probably ensure that you’re not getting scammed, if anything. He loves his friends (two of them being his roommates), but he knows the truth about how they make their sales.

Mei and Mina call them sleazy car salesmen for a reason after all.

“It’s not ‘just’ heated seats!” You protest, “We never had the money for cars with heated seats when I was growing up. So that’s what I want.”

“How about leather heated seats?” Jungkook suggests, “Leather seats have better ventilation-”

“Oh, I know,” You say matter-of-factly.

“Of course you do. Smart ass.”

It feels incredibly domestic, walking into Namjoon’s car dealership together with Jungkook. Shoulder to shoulder, hopping off of his motorcycle together. He had taken it upon himself to purchase a second helmet, despite your insistence that you would pay for one.

But he had told you not to get a big head, that the helmet wasn’t for you specifically. That he needed a second helmet anyway, and you joining him on the motorcycle more and more as of recently was just the impetus for him to purchase one.

So you say nothing when it’s clear that he had bought the helmet with you in mind- it’s a sleek, glossy lilac color. A similar shade of lilac as your phone case, your favorite small backpack, and your work notebook.

You say nothing about it, only keeping your small smile to yourself.

Of course it’s Jimin who immediately jumps up to offer you assistance today. He gives Jungkook a Cheshire grin, mischief dancing in his eyes. Not that you would know otherwise.

He knows Jimin won’t let him live this down. At least Taehyung might have a little more tact than Jimin.

“So are you both looking for a vehicle together?” Jimin asks once you’re both seated in the comfortable leather seats in front of his desk, when in fact he knows damn well that you’re not.

“Huh? N-no, I’m looking for a car. Jungkook is helping me out,” You say, your face heating up at the implication. Isn’t Jimin one of his roommates?

Jungkook’s tongue pokes his cheek. You notice.

“I’m here to make sure that you or Taehyung don’t scam her,” Jungkook says, “Where’s Joon? He’s less...annoying than you.”

“Joon can’t even drive a fucking car. He has no business trying to sell them,” Jimin says swiftly.

“Er,” You interrupt softly, “Isn’t he your boss? He owns the entire dealership, doesn’t he?”

Jungkook stifles a laugh at your presumed innocence. You offer a slick smile to Jimin when he scoffs in amusement.

“Yes,” Jimin says, “So tell me. How can I make your dreams come true?”

If Jungkook wasn’t with you, you think you would’ve fallen victim to Jimin’s charms long ago. He’s nice, a little flirty and funny. But helpful. You can see how someone might end up paying more than they’d need to with Jimin being their car salesman.

You listen to every word Jimin says, taking notes in a specific section of your binder with your favorite black ballpoint pen. You need to have all the information at your fingertips before making a big decision, no matter what it is. Jungkook had teased you for it at first, but he’s become accustomed to your thought process.

Jimin has shown you at least five different types of models of cars ranging from sedans to SUVs. In theory, they all fit the bill. But you haven’t really felt the connection with any of them.

Jimin is nothing if not patient, though.

“I’m sorry,” You say, “I know I’m being meticulous. You must be annoyed.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart,” Jimin shrugs, “Besides, you can repay me with your phone number maybe, huh?”

“That doesn’t sound like an ethical business practice,” You say flatly while Jungkook glares at Jimin (who only smirks at him in return), “You already have it. From when I made the appointment.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“You wish,” You roll your eyes, “Does every one of your clients get this treatment or is it just me?”

“Nah, it’s just anyone who catches Jungkookie’s eye,” Jimin winks at you and Jungkook is about to strangle his roommate. Perhaps he should put an ad out for a new roommate, considering he might kill his current one in the next five minutes.

“O-oh,” You falter, cheeks blazing at this point, “Can we look at a few more? I’m gonna use the restroom really quickly. Maybe even grab a coffee.”

“Sure, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Will you fuckin’ stop it? I can’t believe you,” Jungkook hisses, “We’re literally at your workplace and you’re putting the moves on her-”

“Oh, will you relax,” Jimin says breezily, “I’m just seeing if she’ll take the bait.”

“There’s no reason for that shit,” Jungkook says, glaring at his friend, “Cut it out.”

“I like her,” Jimin says, as if he hadn’t spoken, “She’s cute.”

“Back off,” Jungkook says, “And while we’re at it, just for you being an ass. You’re gonna give her heated seats for free.”

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the car that Jimin is currently telling you about. He can already tell from your wide eyes and soft, excited smile that this is the one. You’re already running the checklist through your head, physically looking at your notes as Jimin easily answers your questions.

“Can I take her for a test drive?” You ask Jimin and he somehow produces a set of keys for the exact model from his pocket.

“I knew this would be the one…” Jimin says as he takes you to the parking lot to grab the test car. Jungkook rolls his eyes in fondness and heads off to find his other roommate, Taehyung. And to say hello to his friend, Namjoon.

“It suits you,” Jimin says once you’d taken the car out for a drive and brought it back safely.

“You think so?” You ask, giving the keys back to him, “I bet you say that to everyone.”

“Only when I mean it, sweetheart,” Jimin winks at you.

“How lucky for me,” You mutter under your breath, “So...what are the next steps?”

“I bring out the contract, you sign it, and you take your new car home,” Jimin says confidently.

“Yeah,” You say dreamily and look outside to the car in longing. You’ve done the homework, done the research. Went through this logically and meticulously. Even if the car does start depreciating the minute you step out of the dealership… You want it. It checks all of the boxes, you know you’ll get your money’s worth from it.

But before you give Jimin the okay to draw up the contracts, you want to tell Jungkook. You spot him talking to Taehyung, his bunny smile on display (which makes you smile in turn) and excuse yourself from Jimin for a minute to go after Jungkook.

“Hi,” You say and introduce yourself to Taehyung, who offers you a wide, boxy smile, “I’m gonna get it. The car, I mean. I love her.”

“She passed the vibe check?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah. She passed the vibe check.”

When you comb through the hefty contract with sharp eyes, Jungkook is somewhat amused to see the free of charge cost for the heated seats. Jimin only winks at him in response.

You can’t seem to find anywhere else where Jimin may be overcharging you, so you ask Jungkook to review it, too. And surprisingly, Jungkook finds nothing out of the ordinary. He knows how Jimin operates here, trying to gain any extra cent of commission that he can. Not that that’s a terrible thing.

“It’s yours, sweetheart,” Jimin says fifteen minutes later, once you sign your name on the dotted line.

“Really?” You let out an exhilarated laugh, adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins, “Really, really?”

“Keys are yours, and someone will bring the car out front for you,” Jimin smiles, “Congratulations on your first car. I’m honored that you chose me to help you make this purchase.”

“Wouldn’t have had it any other way, Jimin,” You beam. After a moment of deliberation, “Oh, by the way- have fun on your date with Mina tonight. I heard all about it.”

Mischief dances in your eyes and Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a surprised laugh. Jungkook looks at you proudly- that’s what Jimin gets for being a menace.

Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks you out of the dealership and you slowly wrap a tentative, shy arm around his waist. You both wait shoulder to shoulder for one of the dealership boys to bring your brand new car out front.

In the meantime, you try to pluck up the courage to ask Jungkook to have a drink with you after. To celebrate and to treat your friend for helping you out for the last few weeks. You bite your bottom lip in nervousness and Jungkook notices. He wants nothing more than to gently pull your bottom lip out of your own grip, but refrains from doing so.

But you realize, it’s Jungkook, this is your friend and the comforting, warm scent of laundry that envelopes you gives you a little courage.

“Do you want to grab a drink or something after this?” You ask softly, “I… wanted to treat you. For helping me the last few weeks with the car stuff.”

“C’mon, baby. You know I’ll never say no to a pretty girl buying me a drink,” Jungkook says, lips pulled apart into a sly smirk.

“Oh, that’s all I am to you? A pretty girl?” You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully, despite the heat in your cheeks.

“Not at all,” Jungkook murmurs, tightening his hold around your shoulders and looking at you with sincerity dripping from his big, brown eyes, “You’re my pretty girl.”

If he didn’t have a strong arm around your shoulders, you’re certain you would’ve evaporated into the floor at his words.

The image of Jungkook smoking outside of the bar right under the glowing, purple neon lights is an image you haven’t seen very often. A strand of dark hair falls in front of his face as he lights his cigarette, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Even from this distance, you can see the purse of his lips and the silver glint of rings on his fingers. It shouldn’t send a rush down your spine the way it does, but you won’t deny it. When it comes to Jungkook, you won’t deny your feelings. Or your attraction.

For some reason, a thought crosses your mind- you hadn’t told Sora that you had purchased a new car. Much less that Jungkook had helped you pick one out. But you push her from your mind easily, as if you’ve been doing the last few weeks. It’s been difficult for you to keep Jungkook out of your conversations with Sora- she always has a way of bringing him up more than not.

But it’s not just Jungkook she has a strong, stubborn opinion on. It’s everything these days- you had showed her cars that you were interested in and she had shot every one of them down, she always has something to say about your passion for work (or rather she never pays enough attention about it), and she even had something negative to say when you had timidly brought up that you were maybe thinking about another ear piercing.

You’re growing tired of it. You find yourself getting nervous around her, like you’re walking on eggshells around her. Even when she just texts you, your heart speeds up in anxiety. But at the same time, there is a voice in your head telling you not to upset her.

As if that’s somehow the worst thing that could ever happen. Objectively, you know Sora. You know she’s stubborn and loud in her opinions and always has to get her way. But at the core of it all, you want to believe that she has a good heart. Because if she doesn’t have a good heart… Then what were you doing this to yourself for? What were you surrounding yourself with all of this negativity for?

You can sense Jungkook’s dislike of her, even if he doesn’t outright say it. But you’re no idiot. Mina and Mei have been honest with you on their opinions of her. So has Yoongi and Hobi.

They all think she’s dragging you down and that you’ll spiral in her negativity if you don’t open your eyes. They’ve all had a few choice words for her, but you find yourself uneasy whenever the topic of Sora comes up.

The more you hear it, the more you wonder about your supposed best friend. But you push those sour thoughts away to focus on the man in your field of vision.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach him on unsteady feet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jungkook mutters with the cigarette in between his lips when you get closer to get a good look at him.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” You reply, eyes subconsciously wandering to the cigarette. Your nose scrunches at the smell without you even realizing it.

“You look like my mom when she first saw me smoking,” Jungkook says bluntly.

“Your mom? You really wanna compare me to your mother?” You raise an eyebrow, “Don’t know what that says about you, Jungkook.” Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh at that.

“Shut up,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and peels himself off of the brick wall before putting his cigarette out and tossing it in the ashtray next to him, “I think you owe me a drink?”

Jungkook, you decide, is dangerous and warm all at once. The starry glint of his big, doe eyes throws you off more than once, leaving you either stammering over your words or choking on your drink when you try to reply to him.

The bar is quiet and nearly empty, only the sounds of faint music playing in the background to keep you both company. You’re both facing each other at the bar, knees touching ever so slightly.

Even that simple touch makes you feel warm all over.

Jungkook slides your drink towards you, a soft ‘thank you’ pushing itself out of your lips. You suppress a shiver when his ring clad fingers brush over yours, and he notices the way you tense up a little bit with his touch.

He appreciates the way the dim lights shine on your hair and illuminate the planes of your pretty face. He thinks it’s the perfect lighting for a photo of you- the dark colored jacket and your dark wash jeans blending into the colors of the bar around you. Something at the base of your neck glints as you turn to face him.

“Cheers, to your new car,” Jungkook murmurs, tipping his glass towards yours.

“Cheers to you for helping me,” You reply with a smile, clinking your drink with his.

“Pleasure’s all mine, baby,” Jungkook says, “You deserve it.”

“Deserve a vehicle that will have hardly any value in ten to fifteen years?”

“You deserve something for yourself,” Jungkook corrects, looking into your eyes as if he can see right through you. You’d told him how you had grown up with one car amongst a family of five, and how money was tight when you were younger. You were the eldest of three, and now that everyone was older, you had slowly started dipping your toes into the concept of having things for yourself.

You whisper a soft thank you and take a sip of your drink. “My parents were so excited about the car,” You say quietly, “Told them I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh? You told your parents about me?”

“Had to tell them about the man who got me heated seats for free,” You reply with a knowing grin, “You think I didn’t catch that?”

“Heated seats were the least Jimin could’ve done,” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

You wave him off, “I like him. I could see why him and Mina are good together. She told me they’ve had this weird on and off thing for, like, a year now? Like c’mon. Get it together.”

“Yeah. Don’t know why they keep denying the inevitable,” He says, voice full of something barely concealed.

“The inevitable?”

“They both have their issues but… They would make it work if they sorted themselves out,” He says softly, a tenderness to his eyes that makes your belly flip. You don’t know if he’s talking about Jimin and Mina or about… something else.

Something else being you and him.

“Maybe one of them is scared,” You whisper.

“They can work through it together,” Jungkook replies instantly. The air in between you both is charged, plush with tension and electricity. You look at him unsurely, with wide eyes, and god, if Jungkook doesn’t want to sweep you off of your feet and pull you in for a kiss.

“Jungkook, I-” You murmur, voice soft and deafening, silky like honey in his ears. The moment is right there, ripe for you, ripe for him...

And then your phone starts ringing, and Jungkook has never heard a worse sound. Your chest drops for a second when you see that it’s Sora calling you, and Jungkook has never felt as frustrated as he does right in this moment. Each significant moment of frustration over the past few months has Sora linked to it. He wonders if she has a radar for interrupting at the worst possible moments.

You give him an apologetic glance before answering the phone. She only calls if it’s important or if she needs you so you won’t risk it.

“H-hello-”

“You’ll never guess what I just did,” Comes Sora’s excited voice through the receiver. It’s too sugary, too sweet. You wince.

“What’s that?” You mumble, shoulders drooping.

“Got you a date for this Friday, you remember Yunho right?” She exclaims. If your heart wasn’t on the floor already, it certainly was by now. “He wants to take you out- he’s the lawyer, remember?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” You say weakly, “But-”

Jungkook’s eyes flash at your suddenly dejected frown. That’s what Sora does- she takes you and she turns your happiness into something sad. It’s like she can’t stand to see you happy about something that doesn’t align with her “vision”.

“You can thank me later, babe,” Sora says cheerily. This time, you visibly cringe as you try to protest. Try to tell her that you don’t want a date with this man, that you only want a date with the man in front of you. But you can’t get the words out, she won’t listen and she hangs up on you before you can get a word in edgewise.

“Sorry about that,” You mutter.

“Why? She’s your friend. Not mine,” Jungkook says brusquely and you bristle at his bluntness.

You’re distracted for the rest of the evening, mind on another wavelength. He knows you’re upset, but he doesn’t push. He gets you to smile and laugh a few times, only for your eyes to turn sad right after.

Jungkook only wishes that you’d be able to see what was right in front of you.

TAGS: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under The Floorboards (Pt. VIII)

(Technoblade x Reader) First Part: Pt. 1 Latest: Pt.VX

(Feel free to play this while listening to this chapter! Full credit to @Alexx-Kun on Wattpad for suggesting this gorgeous song)

https://youtu.be/kCV4JUqGr64

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 1: Forgiveness

Step one you needed to find a venue, you had assigned Ranboo as your honorary maid of honor. The young boy was just as thrilled as he was confused, did you not have any other friends? You were Technoblade’s perfect match if that was the case. Ranboo had no problem voicing that to you and you pouted at him, you argued that everyone who lived with Techno was antisocial. He reluctantly agreed and you smiled proudly, he rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder with his hand. You laughed, glad you were sitting down, or else you would’ve for sure fallen. Technoblade and you had decided to split the jobs for the wedding between the both of you. You were in charge of the invitations and flowers, basically anything to do with decorating and interacting with other humans. Technoblade meanwhile was in charge of the venue and the official rings, it’s not that you didn’t trust him with more duties it was more that he didn’t trust himself. That and he also believed that you both could just get married in the woods. You at least wanted a small wedding with a few people you cared about, you rubbed your pointer finger and thumb together with a frown.

    “You alright?”

     “Just thinking about the invitations. Who will come...stuff like that.” Ranboo glanced over at the minuscule stack of letters by the table, it was clearly small, but Ranboo hand wrote them for you in swirl print. They better show up, Ranboo would be pissed if they didn’t, he put a lot of work into those invites.

    “They’ll come.” He nodded his head picking them up with his claws, one was for Tommy, another was for Ghostbur, and Ranboo also suggested an invite for Captain Puffy he figured the both of you would get along considering you both had a habit for adopting misfits. You also needed a female friend. “We can deliver them and search for flowers, then tomorrow we can search for a dress for you that sounds okay right?”

    “For someone with such a bad memory, you’re surprisingly good at planning,” You watched the boy preen at your compliment.

     “Thank you, I also figured we can use the stasis chamber so you only have to walk one way with your ankle.”

     “Smart boy.”

    “Why thank you,” Ranboo smiled proudly over at you reaching out his hand for you to take. You grabbed it and he pulled you to his feet, he kept his hand interlocked with yours, it was minuscule in comparison to the half enderman’s. “Ready?”

     “Ready.”

Slowly but surely the two of you made your way over to the nether portal and into the once-great country. Ranboo placed his hand on your lower back and helped guide you through the rubble of the city. He knew much better than you did where everyone resided, even if you didn’t meet them face to face you’d make a chest and drop it off. Ironically the first person you ran into was the woman Ranboo insisted you meet, Captain Puffy. She’s gorgeous, was your first thought, she was some form of a sheep hybrid dressed like a pirate, two of your favorite things, sorry Technoblade you might’ve met your new wife. You talked with her well into the afternoon, she was just so easy to talk to,

    “Can I just say I feel like I’ve known you forever,” She gushed, taking your hands within her own and squeezing fondly. “I’m so happy Ranboo has found someone to watch out for him,” Ranboo flushed in response but didn’t argue against Puffy’s words which warmed your heart.

     “I’m happy too. I just want to help these kids in whatever way I can,” You smiled a little forlornly thinking once again of the obnoxious blonde. “They just don’t deserve all the shit they have to deal with, they’re kids you know? They should be living their lives.”

    “Yeah keep talking like I’m not here,” Ranboo mused over your shoulder which caused you to laugh with a shake of your head, “no need to stop please continue.” Puffy smiled at the both of you,

     “She’s right though Ranboo. You should be out causing mischief or getting into trouble, not fighting in a never-ending war.”

    “Oof getting into trouble? No thank you, I just wanna tend to my pets and go on adventures with my friends.”

     “You’ll get to do that I promise. Once my ankles healed we’ll go woodland mansion hunting, I’ve been to a few in my time. They’re a lot of fun.”

     “Really?”

     “Yeah of course!” You beamed and Ranboo smiled right back at you, he brought his journal out of his bag and quickly scribbled something down in it. In the end, Puffy ended up accepting the invitation with a blinding smile,

     “You’re going to be a gorgeous bride. Could I bring my girlfriend Niki? You’ll love her!”

     “I don’t see why not. I can’t wait to meet her!” You assumed Technoblade wouldn’t mind one more person, especially because he’s never mentioned Niki which was a good thing in your eyes. Usually, if Technoblade talked about you, it was because he wasn’t a fan. You all said your goodbyes, you felt warm inside you couldn’t believe you were about to have TWO friends who are girls.

     “Soooooo?”

     “I love her.”

     “Told you so,” Ranboo smirked. He was proud of himself for forcing someone else to socialize so he didn’t have to. Ranboo was relieved that list of people to invite wasn’t long; considering Technoblade had more enemies than friends. The only thing that rubbed him the wrong way was he didn’t even know that you had invited Tommy in the first place.

So if Tommy did show up, your wedding might be a bloodbath.

You and Ranboo stood outside of Tommy’s house, he glanced down at you and watched your hands clench the envelope. He brought his hands over yours and rubbed them gently, you looked up at him with wide eyes.

     “Deep breath and relax okay? He’s Tommy so I won’t say he won’t flip out at you, but I can say you’re a wonderful friend, you’ll be fine.”

     “I can’t believe Mr. Panic Room is telling me to relax.” You let out a nervous laugh, he made an offended face.

     “Ya know what, never helping you again. You can walk home.”

     “Ranboo it was a joke!”

     “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you stuck your tongue out and headed up to Tommy’s door and knocked. You already knew Tommy might not even be home, the boy was a wanderer by nature. Yet, much to your surprise, the door opened with a loud BANG, and in the doorway stood Tommy looking better than you’ve seen him in all the time he spent with you and Technoblade.

     “Hi, Tommy.”

     “(Y/N)?” He blinked looking surprised before he steeled his face, “What’re you doing here wench!” Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at you and you raised an eyebrow,

Wench?

That wasn’t going to fly.

    “Try again.”

Tommy sputtered as you narrowed his eyes accusingly, his eyes trailed down to the netherite sword at your side. His entire demeanor changed when he spotted it at your side,

     “(Y/N)! My friend! Good to see you! How’ve you been? Good? Good!” The boy rambled wrapping an arm around your shoulder with a big smile, there’s the Tommy you remembered. “I’m sure you’re doing good fo’ sho’! Now what do, I owe this pleasure women!”

    “I wanted to invite you to Technoblade and I’s wedding,” Your voice was soft and hesitant, holding out the invitation out to him. The teenager blinked a few times before taking it from your hands, he flipped it over confusion was etched deep on his brow.

    “You’re getting married? To Technoblade? He’s going to have a wife and I’m not?”

You blinked a few times trying to process what Tommy said, was he more mad at the fact that Technoblade was getting married in the first place? “Well yeah, considering I’m his fiance and all…”

    “That motherfucker! He gets to have a wife! I want a wife! (Y/N) acquire me a wife!”

You let out howling laughter at his response, tossing your arms around the boy, he went silent and a confused look came across his face. His ears turned red as he looked over at Ranboo with a face that screamed help me, Ranboo simply looked away holding up a prominent middle finger at the boy. “Okay, okay! Enough hugs,” Tommy ranted shoving you away from him with a huff, “I don’t know what’s so funny about me needing a wife.”

    “You’ll find a wife eventually,” You couldn’t help but smile as he frowned down at you. “So? Can you make it?” Voice quiet as you looked up at him, the nervousness from before creeping back into your body, he chewed on his bottom lip while looking at you. Tommy wasn’t about to be soft while Ranboo was standing less than a foot away so he did the next best thing which was whacking you on top of the head.

    “I-well-...” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck looking nervous for the first time in his life, “I can’t.” He saw your face fall and he grabbed your shoulders tightly, “Not because I don’t want to! I… I guess you’re not TERRIBLE.” He admitted begrudgingly, “Tubbo and I...we have some unfinished business we need to deal with before things get any worse for people.”

     “I don’t know what you mean Tommy.” You suddenly grew very concerned, “You don’t have to hold the entire world on your shoulders.”

     “Yeah, I do,” Tommy responded with enough seriousness to shake you to your core, you didn’t know about his past with the discs fully, but you knew enough to know this situation was about that. “Just know I’m happy for you, seriously I am,” He gave you a sad smile.

    “Stay safe Tommy. Please don’t be stupid.”

     “I’m never stupid you BITCH!”

     “Call me a bitch again you BRAT!”

     “MAKE ME!”

You frowned, hitting him in the side so he would double over, while he gripped his stomach you pulled him into a headlock and began digging your knuckles into his skull. “Apologize!”

     “NEVER!”

Ranboo looked sheepish as he stared at the scene, his shoulders slumping forward. “(Y/N) we have a schedule-” Reluctantly you released Tommy and he stumbled back, he huffed dusting off his shirt. You smiled slightly over at the boy,

     “See you soon raccoon boy,” you gave him a proud salute.

     “Hasta La Vista Miss Blade,” Tommy responded, saluting you right back.

You turned away from the boy and headed back over to Ranboo’s side, “You ready?” You nodded in response with a little smile on your lips. “Good. Next, up is Ghostbur right? We need to find him.”

     “If we can locate Friend we can locate him.”

It took a while, but eventually, you and Ranboo found Ghostbur and Friend wandering around a forest nearby the crater. Immediately spotting you a bright smile spread across the ghost’s face, “(Y/N)!” He shouted, throwing his hand in the air with a wave, “How’re you doing darling!”

    “I’m good Ghostbur! Have you met Ranboo?”

     “Briefly. Nice to see you again!”

     “Ugh, ditto,” Ranboo responded with a shy smile shuffling a little behind you.

You smiled and pulled an envelope out from your bag, you held it out to him.

     “You and Friend good sir, are invited to Technoblade and I’s wedding.” He gasped loudly, eyes lighting up with pure and utter joy,

     “Technoblade getting married! Oh my god, that’s phenomenal! You’re going to make the most beautiful bride,” he praised excitedly as your face turned red at the compliments, “Gosh, you two are so lovely together, I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Do you have a dress? You have to show me!”

You rubbed the back of your head, rocking on your heels, “Well...about that.”

     “Do not tell me you don’t have a DRESS?” He practically yelled crossing his arms, “I’m disappointed in you!”

      “It’s in two days Ghostbur! I had no time! I’ll make do with something. I’m sure I have an old dress somewhere-”

     “UNACCEPTABLE!” He grabbed at your hands, “I’m getting you a dress. I’ll meet you at Technoblade’s tomorrow, just hold on!” Ghostbur ran his hand through Friend’s wool with a smile, “You’re going to be one of the most gorgeous brides, only second to Sally.”

     “Well I’m honored, I’ll see you then.” You smiled adoringly at the little ghost as he floated off his sheep buddy by his side.

    “Do you think he’s getting you a dress?”

     “I have no idea,” You responded with a shrug, “It’s sweet he’s willing to put in the effort though.”

      “Or creepy.”

     “It’s sweet you jerk,” You nudged him with your arm Ranboo smiled,

    “I’m just glad it’s off our to-do list for tomorrow.”

     “True that means you can sleep in,” You teased as his multicolored eyes lit up,

    “Hell yeah.”

~~~

Day 2: Ghostbur’s Gift

You woke up to sleepy kisses and tender touches, one of the loveliest ways to wake up if you might add.

    “Morning big guy,” You cooed fondly as he made a soft purr-like sound in his throat. You turned over to face him and he immediately pressed a kiss to your lips. The voices couldn’t help but point out how cute you looked in the morning.

    “Helloooo...How’s your ankle?” He asked his thumb brushing against your cheek, closing your eyes you let out a soft,

    “Much better.”

    “Good, I heard from Ranboo Ghostbur’s supposedly stopping by today. Any particular reason?”

     “He says he has a dress I can wear for tomorrow.”

    “How does he have a dress exactly?”

    “No idea, but I’m going with it.”

     “If you’re sure. Just don’t look bad.” You frowned and bonked him on the side of his head, “it was a joke!”

     “It better be a joke or I’m leaving your ass. I look good in everything so fuck off.” You hissed as Technoblade groaned,

     “Heard you loud and clear Princess. Scouts honor, you’re the most beautiful girl to me you know that.”

    “I do. Just don’t joke around like that, makes me feel bad okay?”

He frowned a little and moved to hover over you, his hair framed his face and fell past his shoulders. It tickled your cheeks and you ran your hands through it meeting anything but his eyes suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Technoblade kissed the tip of your nose,

     “Hey, Princess look at me.”

Turning your head towards his voice, the two of you locked eyes, a sense of calm washed over you, the only thing in his eyes was pure, unadulterated love.

     “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. No matter what I’m always going to think that you are, you could grow a third eye and I’d still want to marry you tomorrow. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, it was a joke but I won’t make it again. I swear.” You felt your eyes water as you tossed your arms around his neck, the sudden movement caused him to fall forward crushing you beneath him.

    “I love you too bubba. Thank you for listening to me.”

     “That’s part of my job idiot.”

You smiled against his neck and held him tighter, Technoblade reciprocated the hug and decided the both of you could stay in bed just a little while longer. The two of you shared soft kisses, every once in a while Technoblade would reinforce how precious you were to him, eventually, it all got to be too much and you shoved your hands in his face.

     “Enough is enough! I’m embarrassed now.” Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression and pressed a fond kiss to your lips, obviously you kissed him back, your fingers threading through his hair.

      “Princess…” He let out a pleased sound in the back of his throat, “you’re making it hard to get out of bed. I still have some stuff set up for tomorrow and you gotta look out for Wilbur.”

     “Or hear me out. You can stay in bed with me all day, and keep giving me kisses,” You pressed your lips to his own before whispering in his ear, “Anywhere you’d like.” You nipped teasingly at his earlobe and suddenly felt the heat radiating off his face. As you expected his face was a deep red color and you felt his head fall against your shoulder,

    “You’re going to kill me.” You only laughed in response, finally pulling away from him you swung your feet over the side of the bed, “you can’t just say that and walk away.” He whined loudly with a little pout on his lips, “Especially since I won’t see you until the wedding.”

     “Suck it up buttercup,” You stuck your tongue out at the man “I’ll just be at Ranboo’s if something goes wrong I’ll be within reach.” He reached his hand up and threaded his fingers through your hair, you sighed pleasantly at the physical touch, “I love you.”

      “Love you too, see you tomorrow.” You gave him one last fleeting kiss before standing up leaving the warmth of the covers and your half-naked fiance behind much to your dismay. You tossed one of Technoblade’s old shirts over your head, it came down past your knees and Technoblade let out a happy sigh from behind you. You let out a little laugh, looking at him over your shoulder his eyes were half-lidded as he stared at your now bare legs. “Hold on don’t change just yet I wanna stare a little bit longer.”

     “Perv.” You snickered ignoring his wishes and sliding on a pair of pants, afterward, you tied a corset around your waist. He responded with a ‘heh?’ of disagreement before he groaned loudly and flopped over in the bed, “see you soon Bubbas.” You leaned over and pecked his forehead before sliding down the ladder and out of the house. Ironically your timing was perfect as you greeted Ranboo right outside Technoblades cabin, “Good morning!”

     “Morning, you and Techno sleep okay?” You nodded with a bright smile, “Good Wilbur should be stopping by any minute now by the way. He sent me a note earlier this morning that said he’d be around this time.”

     “Works for me, wanna wait by your house?”

     “You just wanna pet my bunny,” You smirked and laughed,

     “Can you blame me?”

     “I suppose not. Whatever makes you happy.” Ranboo sighed but there wasn’t any real defeat in his tone, “Let’s go.” Ranboo and you walked a little ways away to his humble little shack so you could play with Ranbun. You were set up in Ranbun’s pen holding him in your arms and cooing softly at him, Ranboo joined you after a few moments of jealous staring. The two of you spent the next hour playing with his bunny and feeding him lots of treats, he was one happy bunny. Ranboo was the first person to see Ghostbur coming through the trees, a large box in hand, had he actually managed to get you a dress?

     “(Y/N)! Ranboo!” Ghostbur shouted excitedly floating over to the both of you, “I managed to find the dress I promised you! So long as it fits of course.” Your jaw fell open as you stumbled out of Ranbun’s pen,

     “How the hell did you manage to find me a wedding dress?”

     “Oh! It was Sally’s.” A fond smile spread across the ghost’s face, both you and Ranboo looked at one another brows furrowed. Ranboo put a hand to the side of his face and whispered loudly to you,

     “I thought Sally was a fish.”

You whispered back in the exact same manner,

    “Me too, but at this point, I’m too afraid to ask for clarification.”

Ranboo nodded seriously and stood back up to his full height, you stepped forward and took the box from the hands of the ghost he stared at it longingly like he was afraid to let it go. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before speaking up,

     “Are you sure?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but it was still as tender as ever, the ghost of Wilbur snapped his eyes up to meet yours. He seemed to be reading the expression in your eyes before smiling almost fondly, handing the box over to you officially. He pulled out a small patch of blue and fumbled it around in his hands, like a nervous tic,

    “I’m positive love. I trust you to take good care of it and Sally would want you to have it, she was wonderful like that. Just please take good care of it.”

    “I’ll protect it with my life. I promise you.”

     “I know you will, you’re going to be a beautiful bride, my dear.” He somehow took your hands and pressed a faint kiss to them, “Go on then try it on.” Your eyes sparkled in delight and he turned to Ranboo,

     “Well go on, we’ll still be here to judge you immensely.”

    “Oh fuck off.” You laughed heading into his shack to change, you managed to find an area not completely out in the open. The only nerve-wracking thing was you didn’t have a mirror so you had to pray you looked alright and that Raboo and Ghostbur wouldn’t lie to you. You opened the box and pulled the dress out, Sally really knew how to pick a damn good dress; the dress was stunning, you definitely wouldn’t do it justice. The dress fell past your feet and pooled a little ways behind you, it was more of an off-white creme color, and was made of soft lace. It was sleeveless so the winter wind gave you a chill, you hoped Technoblade picked a place that wasn’t freezing cold. You took a breath to hype yourself up and stepped out of the shack, the dress trailing behind you, you had left the veil in the box figuring you didn’t need it right now. The first person to spot you was Ghostbur, who gasped loudly bringing his hands up to his face after spotting you. You shrunk in on yourself a little bit and your cheeks turned a light pink in response, “That’s a good expression I hope.” You meekly laughed as Ranboo turned around and let out a shaky break of surprise. He reached forward with his claws to touch the soft fabric,

     “It’s perfect! Fits like a glove.” Wilbur hummed happily floating around you, “I was right by the way, you look beautiful. Techno’s going to pass out.”

    “Shut up I can’t look that good.”

    “You do though!” Ranboo shouted excitedly, “It suits you perfectly not that I had any doubts or anything.” He jumped a little on the balls of his feet, he pulled out his memory book quickly scribbling something down inside it, as he did so he muttered “I’m the best honorary maid of honor ever.”

     “You definitely are.” You praised the halfling who only seemed to grow more excited at the praise, Ghostbur cleared his throat, was he looking for a compliment too? “Ghostbur you’re a lifesaver, if it wasn’t for you I’d be walking down the aisle in Netherite. Thank you.” Ghostbur seemed to preen a little as he smiled proudly,

    “I know. I’m pretty great aren’t I? I basically saved the day.”

    “You certainly are.”

    “Oh! Just return the dress the next time I see you after the wedding okay?”

     “I will have no fear, it’s in safe hands.” The ghost nodded, “I can’t wait to see it in action tomorrow.”

     “Me too,” you sighed lovingly, doing a little twirl in the dress you could only imagine the look that would appear on Technoblade’s face when he saw you.

You hoped the voices would approve because Technoblade was absolutely going to short circuit and go feral, you could hardly wait.

Day 3: The Wedding Day

The night before the wedding Technoblade couldn’t sleep his body was buzzing with nerves, which was a foreign feeling to him. He was worried about you not sleeping by his side, this was the first time since you’ve officially gotten together that you weren’t there. He didn’t realize how much he missed your presence and warmth, he pulled the pillow you usually used close to his chest. He felt like a love-struck teenager cuddling the pillow of his missing girlfriend because that’s basically what he was, except instead of a girlfriend it was his fiance. The voices didn’t help his longing either; they were roaring in his head asking where you were and when you would come back.

Where’s (Y/N)? I miss her! Can Ranboo protect her if something goes wrong? What if Dream gets ahold of her in the meantime and you’re up here sleeping? I wanna squeeze her thighs again right now. E. That’s disgusting, stop, don’t sexualize her like that. B U T T. Can I get a big pog for butts? Thighs for the thigh god.

His entire face went a deep scarlet, “What does that even mean guys.” Technoblade let out a loud groan of embarrassment, some of the voices laughed, some others rumbled with anger. “I just want her by my side is all, I miss her. I miss her touch...I don’t know when I became such a sap. I hate that I care about her this much, but god without her I’d be lost.”

SIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMP

     “You shits.”

The morning rolled around and Technoblade woke up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. He fell asleep around three in the morning, tired as shit, bees buzzing around in his stomach.

Today’s the day! Gotta get ready as soon as possible, you’re gonna look so handsome! I bet (Y/N)’s gonna be equally as beautiful! Don’t fuck it up. Celebratory murder spree pog? She’ll think you’re so hot covered in blood. No! E. Normalcy is key!

He shook his head to get rid of the nagging voices rattling around in his head, he knew what he had to do, and listening to the voices wasn’t one of them. Phil was going to come soon and Technoblade had to look presentable so they could head to the venue and Phil could set up some last-minute decorations. Techno would say he felt bad making Phil do most of the work, but he honestly didn’t, especially since he was so inept at romance in the first place. Never one to wear a suit Technoblade decided his best outfit would be his arctic retirement one, a suit would be too constricting. After all, what if it was attacked and he needed to jump into action, Phil had told him that he was absolutely not allowed to bring weapons which he was not happy about at all. Although the man did reassure him that he would be armed and have an extra weapon just in case something was to occur, he guessed that was FINE. With a soft huff, the man stood up from his bed and pulled out his outfit, the soft blue made him yearn for the days before they found Tommy living under the house. In a way wearing this symbolized a time in their relationship before he was forced into bloodshed once again, plus he knew you loved the fuzzier outfit.

Putting on everything, he brought the fur cape around his shoulders, his crown glittering on his head in the light. He looked regal, he would say he looked like a king but he hated all forms of government so he just looked like his usual badass self. In his closet sat his wedding gift to you, it was a gold tiara that matched his crown in his own way finally solidifying the both of you as a blood god duo.

Turning away from the tiara he grabbed a hairbrush to tame his wild hair, he wanted to do something different with it. It spilled around his back and down to his waist, he managed to tame the frizz with some product that he ‘borrowed’ from you. In the end, he had two small braids framing his face, he grabbed both of them and pinned them together on the back of his head. A half-up half-down look almost made him look like a Viking, he liked it. Technoblade placed gold earrings along with his ears and added some gold accents on his wrists and fingers, none overshading his engagement ring.

His ears twitched hearing the door open downstairs, Phil was here, it was time.

     “Hellooo!” Technoblade called from upstairs and Phil responded with a cheerful,

    “Hey mate!”

As Technoblade descended the ladder, Phil smiled fondly at his old friend, he immediately adjusted the cape on his shoulders. Technoblade huffed a small laugh, “Was that really necessary?”

     “Obviously. I’m the married one, I know what I’m doing.” He shot back snickering, “You ready to go?”

     “As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

    “I’m proud of you man,” Phil responded with a fatherly smile “You’re never going to forget today. It’ll be the best of your life.”

    “Ehhhh I don’t know about that. Spawning those Withers and blowing up a country really gave me a rush.”

     “Oh fuck off,” Phil howled with laughter while shoving the snickering piglin. “This’ll be an entirely new feeling, I would know.” His wings puffed out happily remembering his marriage fondly,

     “Didn’t you marry a fridge?”

    “You’re literally the worst.”

Technoblade smirked just happy he steered the conversation away from any of that mushy crap. He was going to get enough of that as it is in a few hours, oh look at that the bees are back. Phil gave him a pat on the back and the two of them left the house side by side. The spot Technoblade picked out for the wedding was one both of you would like, a snowy taiga, it was warm enough that you wouldn’t freeze to death but still had the beautiful powdery snow that Tecnhoblade loved. Phil had done an amazing job of setting everything up, on the arch, there were beautiful blue flowers interspersed with white roses (both of which you picked out prior), they stood out beautifully against the wooden trellises. There was a carved stone pathway leading the way up to the arch and a few wooden benches decorated with light blue silk so whomever (Y/N) invited could sit down. He knew most of them would only be there for her, he was okay with that, all he needed was Phil and Ranboo and he was content. Next to each booth was a stone pillar, on top of them sat a bouquet of white and blue roses.

     “You really outdid yourself, thank you.” Technoblade whistled,

     “You know I’d do anything for you mate. Glad I could provide, I do have one last little decoration though.” Phil mused reaching into his bag he pulled out a small gold bell similar to the one he had inside his house. He placed the bell above the arch so it would chime softly when the wind blew against its side. Technoblade smiled fondly at the sight and wrapped his arm around Phil’s shoulder.

    ��“I love it. (Y/N)’s gonna love it too.”

     “Thanks, man.” Phil said softly bumping against the blade, “Do you know who’s going to show up by the way?”

    “Absolutely no idea.”

     “Guess we’re gonna find out, look.” Technoblade stepped away from Phil and looked in the direction of his friend, cresting over the hill seemed to be two girls, Technoblade was immediately confused because he didn’t realize you had friends who were women. Phil let out a small laugh, “Oh it’s Niki and Puffy, Ranboo must’ve introduced (Y/N) to them.” Technoblade only nodded his lips twitching into a frown, new people...gross.

     “Hi, Phil! Technoblade!” Puffy chirped brightly, her hand intertwined with Niki’s tightly, “Congratulations to you Mr.” She lightly tapped Technoblade in the chest he blinked in surprise,

     “Thank you?”

     “I may have just met (Y/N), but just know if you do ANYTHING to hurt her at all I will slaughter you.”

     “Darling please…” Niki sheepishly smiled, “you realize you’re threatening Technoblade right? Not the best idea.”

    “It’s alright. I admire your gumption,” Technoblade gave the both of them a thumbs up in response, “I’m glad (Y/N) has someone else like that looking out for her. But, just so you know. The same to you.” He eyed the both of them with a sharp look in his eyes, Puffy let out a nervous laugh and Niki narrowed her eyes warily.

     “That’s fair.”

     “Anyway!” Phil cleared his throat, “let's not ruin this before it even starts.” He led the two girls over to their seats with a small smile, “(Y/N) will be super happy to see you both by the way. Thank you for coming.”

      “Of course, (Y/N) and I are soulmates after all.” Puffy swooned happily as Niki giggled fondly at her antics, “Technoblade better watch out. Niki and I will steal her heart.”

    “I’ll be sure to warn him,” He snickered, glancing over at his friend who was sniffing at the flowers in the pots. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Wilbur should be here soon then (Y/N) and Ranboo will come and it’ll start.”

    “Sounds good,” Niki hummed playing with the sleeves of her blue dress “I’m super excited to meet her.”

While Puffy reassured her that she would, Phil noticed his son floating over to the area. “Hello, Phil!” The ghost’s eyes lit up seeing all of them, “Oh wow everything is so beautiful!”

    “Thanks, Ghostbur.” Technoblade hummed walking over to Phil and the ghost,

     “I’m proud of you too Mr. Engaged!” He snickered as Technoblade’s nose scrunched up in distaste, “Who knew the big, scary Technoblade would settle down with a wife, maybe start a family eventually.”

     “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear any of the cringy nonsense that just came out of your mouth; so I can enjoy today in peace.”

    "Boo! I’m just happy for you!” Ghostbur huffed in annoyance, “I was telling (Y/N) yesterday that marrying Sally was the best day of my life! I’m so making fun of you when you get all mushy.”

     “IF I get all mushy, which I won’t.”

    “Sure you won’t man,” Technoblade glared at his friends in frustration if this teasing was going to continue. He was kidnapping (Y/N) himself and getting married to her elsewhere.

     “I do love all the blue though!” The ghost of Wilbur swooned happily at all the flowers, “This just makes the entire day even better!-”

However he didn’t get to continue as Ranboo cleared his throat rather loudly, the enderboy looked dapper as always, a rose was pinned on his lapel, obviously from (Y/N).

     "Ready Techno?” Phil looked over at him, the pigman’s frustration and confidence fell from his face all at once. Even Ghostbur was shocked at the way Technoblade tensed up and fumbled with the soft fluff on his cape, “Techno?”

It’s time. Holy fuck! She’s going to be stunning, he’s going to be a husband! HE’S GOING TO BE A HUSBAND? Oh fuck.

     “Techno mate you alright?”

     "Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Let's do this.” Technoblade took a deep breath walking over to the altar with Phil, Phil was obviously officiating the wedding. He didn’t want anyone else doing it, Ranboo smiled at the two of them as he walked down the aisle throwing little flower petals everywhere before standing on (Y/N)’s side of the altar. He gave him a happy little nod, Technoblade nodded back at him in a sign that he was happy to see him. Music began to flow through the air, Technoblade just knew Wilbur had managed to bring a jukebox, but he didn’t mind it was fitting.

He turned towards the rich sound and for once in his life the voices...stopped.

Technoblade could hear the music perfectly, he heard the chiming of the bell every time the wind blew, everything seemed clear and for all the sounds that were playing around him without the rancorous voices, it all seemed deadly quiet.

The true reason the voices stopped though was because he saw you.

Elegant. Magnificent. Royalty.

The words spun around in his head, because god you looked angelic as you walked towards him. He wished your face wasn’t obscured by a veil, he wanted to see you, to cup your cheeks and pull you into a desperate kiss. He wasn’t worthy to marry you, he was barely worthy to breathe the same air as someone so pure. Technoblade bit down on his tongue rather harshly, for once in his life he wished the voices would speak up so he wouldn’t feel so small in his head.

     “Hi.”

Your silvery voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he drew in a shaky breath and looked at you.

     “Hi,” His voice cracked a little and he flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears. He reached out to squeeze your hands tightly, he felt you squeeze back and he knew that everything was okay. Fuck, he was tearing up a little and he hasn’t even seen your face yet, fuck...Ghostbur was right. He was a mushy gross mess, you giggled a little at his flustered expression.

     “You look handsome,” You whispered softly tilting your head to the side.

     “You’re Aphrodite herself.”

    “Take it back. Take it back right now.” The teasing tone your voice took made him relax considerably, you were still you. His lovely almost wife who’d he got to spend the rest of his life with, it was perfect, you were perfect.

    “You know I do, even if it kills me to retract the statement.” His hand reached forward and gently pushed the veil back over your head.

Fuck.

It took all his strength not to kiss you senseless. Phil cleared his throat and smiled at the small crowd of people who came to the wedding, Puffy seemed to already be emotional, Niki rubbing her back with gentle circles. The both of you barely paid any attention to the introductions and the little details too engrossed in one another to truly listen to anyone that wasn’t each other. They both snapped to attention when Phil spoke their names with a tender smile and their wedding rings were in his hands.

     “Your wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites you two hearts in love. Groom, place the ring on Bride’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring…”

     “I give you this ring.” Technoblade swallowed thickly listening carefully to Phil’s words as you smiled adoringly, the pink spreading across your cheeks was adorable. He shakily slid the diamond ring on your finger,

    “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”

    “As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”

    “Good job man.” He winked teasingly at Technoblade breaking character to complement his friend, “Bride, place the ring on Groom’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring.”

     “I give you this ring.”

     “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “Wear it with love and joy.”

     “As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”

     “As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.” You breathed softly staring into Technoblade’s eyes and right into his soul. No doubts, only love. Phil continued on,

     “May the wedding rings you exchanged today to remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love and so now by the power vested in me by...me, it is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you threw your arms around Technoblade’s shoulders smothering him with a kiss. He let out a breathy laugh against them, before kissing you back just as passionately. Technoblade’s hands rested on your lower back and he held you like you were a perfect porcelain doll. “I am pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs… ugh Blade! We’ll go with that.” The man laughed as you pulled away from Technoblade to join in his laughter, you pulled Phil into a hug and motioned for Ranboo to join in, both did so, although Ranboo’s was slightly reluctant.

     “Thank you both for everything. My sweet Borealis boys.” You cooed, Phil only laughed and Ranboo’s entire face flushed deeply at the nickname.

     “We love you obviously,” Phil hummed “You don’t need to thank us. Right Ranboo?”

     “Do I really have to say it?”

    “Yes.” Technoblade spoke gruffly, “If you don’t she might cry.”

     “Yeah, Ranboo don’t make me cry on my wedding day.”

     “Oh, Christ...Fine! I love you too…thank you for giving me a home. Caring for me...all of that. You don’t know how much that means to me.” Ranboo looked up at you and you immediately wrapped him in another tight hug, he let out a little whimper and buried his face in your hair.

     “You’ll always be welcome here Ranboo. We’ll always be your home so long as you’ll have us.”

     “Shit,” He laughed a little wetly pulling away from you, “I’ll have to write that down.”

    “You mean you’ll forget it? Rude.” It was Technoblade who chimed in this time and Ranboo flushed in embarrassment once again. He hunched in on himself before sputtering,

     “No, no, no not what I meant! What I mean is like-”

    “Ranboo you’re fine mate.” Phil snickered, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “loosen up a little.”

     “(Y/N)!” You turned towards the shouting of your new friends and your face lit up,

    “Puffy!” The two girls threw their arms around you in a warm hug, even though you didn’t know Niki yet you’re never one to turn down a hug.

Your final conclusion of the night: Niki was absolutely lovely and she and Puffy were relationship goals.

~~~

Candles were littered around the room as you and Technoblade swayed gently to soft music in your bedroom. The both of you were finally alone, and officially married, the first thing Technoblade wanted to do was have the first dance with you. It surprised you that a dance was that important to him, but you came to the conclusion that he just wanted to hold you as close as possible. “I have a gift for you,” Technoblade spoke up rather suddenly and you frowned,

     “We said no gifts.”

     “When have I EVER listened to authority Princess?”

     “Touche,” You snapped your fingers in his direction and he snickered. He pulled away from you and you flopped down on the bed, you watched him walk over to the closet and pull out a medium-sized velvet box. “Bubs what the hell…” You murdered as he placed it into your arms, “please tell me you didn’t go too crazy.”

    “I didn’t. I made it by hand,” Technoblade urged you to open it. You did so pulling off the top, jaw-dropping onto the floor. He knew that reaction was positive and pride swelled in his heart, he knew his girl well. He watched as you lifted the golden tiara out of the box, it was littered with gems that matched his crown, your thumb brushed against them in awe.

     “You made this?”

     “Just for you Princess. Thought you needed something to fit your name.”

     “I’m so in love with you.”

     “Good thing you're my wife then,” he felt his stomach swoop happily and by the way you gently caressed the crown, he knew you felt the same about him. “Put it on Princess I wanna see how it looks on you.” Your face turned red as you did as he asked, his eyes grew half-lidded and he kneeled down in front of you, “Stunning.” He kissed the inside of your wrist, his voice turning gruff, “beautiful.” A kiss was placed on your forearm, “gorgeous,” On your shoulder, “My princess. My good girl.” Technoblade pressed a hot kiss to your neck, you leaned back your breath hitching in your throat.

     “Techno…” You whined softly, “I love you.”

      “Love you more.”

     “Love you most,” He purred, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

~~~

The dogs' rapid barking stirred you from your rest, Technoblade grumbled beside you as you sat up in bed letting the covers fall from your shoulders. The air nipped at your bare skin and you frowned, you couldn’t help but wonder what bothered the dogs so suddenly, “Go back to bed.” Technoblade demanded his hand caressing the small of your back, you leaned back against the warm touch but you couldn’t shake away your worry.

     “I’ll be back in two seconds.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head, he only hummed in response. Big guy knew you could handle yourself just fine, n’ that’s why you loved him. You slipped on a robe and your slippers before making your way to the dogs, stepping inside you heard quite a few of them whining, they just seemed genuinely bothered. “What’s going on huh guys?” You cooed scratching them behind their ears, sensing your comforting presence they seemed to calm down considerably, “What’s got my fearsome guard puppies so spooked.”

      “That’d probably be me.”

You jumped halfway in the air, whipping around you came face to face with the hollow white mask that Dream commonly wore.

    “Fucking shit Dream what the hell?” You pressed your hand to your heart, your dogs growling lowly all around you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

    “My bad.” He smirked in a way that showed he wasn’t at all sorry, “I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding.”

     “Would you have even shown up?” You raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to you, Nightmare was at his hip making your bad vibe senses light up like a wildfire. He hummed thoughtfully rubbing his chin,

    “Probably not. But, I decided I’d drop by and give you my congratulations.” He was close enough that you could smell him, he smelled like burning wood and dirt; like a little pissbaby worm.

     “Well thank you,” You wrapped the robe tighter around your body like it suddenly dropped ten degrees. “You can go now-” You started before you were pressed up against the wall, his fearsome blade Nightmare at your throat. The dogs began to bark and howl at the man’s heels but they couldn’t do much without a direct command, but you hoped it would be enough to draw Technoblade out of the house.

     “Clearly Technoblade cares about you much more than I had originally calculated. It’s kind of pathetic if I’m being honest. Someone like you who's so small, so pathetic, could bring Technoblade, the fearsome blood god himself, down like that. Make him soft. We can’t exactly have that now, can we? We need him...How do I say this...a bit feral, unhinged.”

     “You realize you kill me, you can count on him hunting you down and slaughtering you right? I can’t say for sure the ‘favor’ is completely off the table but he’ll half-ass it that’s for sure.” You snarled right back in Dreams face, tempted to spit in it.

    “Oh, I’m not going to kill you, babe.” His voice dripped like honey, its sickly sweet tone made your stomach churn. “But we’re going to get really comfortable with one another, for the time being, you’re under my custody.”

     “What the fuck does that mean you freak-” He hit you on the back of the head with Nightmare, successfully knocking you out. That caused one of the dogs to absolutely lose it, jumping up and tearing off a piece of Dreams bright green hoodie. He snarled at the dog and jolted when he heard Technoblade call for (Y/N), it was close. He quickly messaged his accomplice and was teleported out of the situation, via his own stasis chamber, appearing back in his home base. He smiled wickedly under his mask, as Enderman noises could be heard behind him. He adjusted the girl in his grip, the next few days were going to be a lot of fun.

: )

~~~

Leave your comments below and I hope you enjoyed! Memes and fanart is also always welcome your girl is thirsty for any scrap of content. 

[genshin-impact-writings]

May I request a songfic for Wicked Game for Childe x reader? Like, he's in love with the reader but he keeps pushing them away because he feels like it makes him weak etc. Can have a sad or happy ending, whichever you prefer! ❤️

I'm so, so sorry for the long wait, dear! But I couldn't decide where I wanted to go with this, so I kept working on other requests but it's finally done. I really hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with. I decided to write a more happy ending because I wasn't in the mood for making it angsty, hope you don't mind that. Anyway, have fun reading and take care! <3

Btw, I listened to this version of the song while I was working on this.

Wicked Game – Tartaglia/Childe x gn!reader

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

The day he had met you was one he would never forget. With nothing more than a single glance and a soft smile you somehow had flipped his whole world upside down, a world he had carefully constructed around himself when he became the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. It was almost funny, really. No one had ever managed to throw him for a loop, not even the strongest enemies he had to face on the battlefield – until he had stumbled upon you on that fateful day in Liyue Harbor. Suddenly, nothing he knew before seemed to make sense anymore. And after a few seconds of staring at you, he realized that he was irretrievably lost.

Lost in the way you smiled at him and the other customers that came to the small tea shop you worked at. Lost in the way your pretty eyes gleamed in the pale light of the moon when he saw you after dark. Lost in the warmth and comfort he always felt when you were around.

And as the time progressed and weeks and months went by, Tartaglia understood that it was more than just a crush. He was so in love with you that it almost hurt him physically.

And yet, he knew that he couldn’t allow himself to feel like that. For someone like him, it was dangerous to care about someone, not only because his enemies would never miss an opportunity to hurt him by hurting the ones he loved but also because feelings like these were nothing more than a distraction, a hindrance that kept him from completely focusing on his missions. Tartaglia couldn’t afford messing up, not when he didn’t want to disappoint the Tsaritsa. After all, he had sworn an oath, an oath to always put her and her interests first, and he couldn’t do that when someone – when you were all he could think of. You were the first person who crossed his mind as soon as he woke up and the last one he saw before drifting off to sleep in the evening. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time, and yet, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling deeper in love with you.

It would be smart to avoid you, hoping that these feelings would disappear someday but still, he found himself visiting the little tea shop you worked at every day. It was embarrassing, really, given the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about tea but instead of listening to you as you explained the tea varieties and different ways of preparation, he kept staring at you, taking in your beauty and indulging in the warm, fuzzy feeling that always welled up inside him when the two of you crossed paths.

And the fact that you seemed to like him too didn’t make things easier. It was so hard to pretend that he didn’t care for you, to push you away over and over again, but for the sake of your safety – and to protect his stupid, foolish heart from shattering into a million pieces – he needed to keep you at distance. He needed to be strong, not only for his homeland but also for you – he needed to protect you from himself and from the things he did in the past and would do in the future.

Even if it meant that he would end up alone again.

Even if it meant that he had to break your heart.

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you With you

Tartaglia had started avoiding you one and a half weeks ago, not visiting the tea shop once and heading into the opposite direction as soon as he saw you on the streets, and still his heart started to beat faster when he thought about you or heard someone mention your name. He hated to act like this; he hated to hurt your feelings but what else could he do? You’d be better off without him, as well as he’d be better off without these distracting feelings.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.

And it worked surprisingly well – until he bumped into you on your way to work that morning. He hadn’t noticed you at first, or else he would’ve chosen another way to get to Northland Bank, but now it was too late to turn around and leave.

“I’m sorry,” he said, carefully avoiding your gaze as he helped you picking up your belongings that you had dropped. “I didn’t see you.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s no big deal,” you replied. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you at the shop for a while.”

“Oh, about that…” He didn’t finish his sentence. It had been foolish to believe that you wouldn’t notice it. One time, you had even called out his name when you saw him near the shop, only to see him fobbing you off with a brief wave of his hand before turning around and leaving without giving you another glance. “Well…”

“You’re probably bored by my rambling about tea, huh?” you guessed, still smiling at him like you were really glad to see him again. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended if you are.”

“No, that’s not – that’s not the case.”

Your eyes were twinkling in amusement, and before he could look away again, he suddenly found himself staring into your eyes, his stupid heart skipping a beat as your smile grew wider. “That’s good to know,” you said softly. “But I was thinking… maybe we could meet up later, I mean, when – when the shop’s closed. You know, like-“

“Like a date,” he finished your sentence, his mouth suddenly so dry that he barely managed to get the words out. No, no, no, this couldn’t be true. How was he supposed to reject you when you asked him for a date, looking at him with his hopeful expression in your eyes? Just how?

“If you don’t want to that’s fine, too,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Tartaglia chuckled. “If I don’t want to?” he repeated and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.” The words were out before he could stop himself. He knew that it wasn’t right, that he should take it back right now but as soon as he saw the genuine happiness in your eyes, he knew that there was no way back. And, if he was completely honest for a second, he didn’t want that anyways.

“I’ll pick you up at your house at – um, let’s say, tomorrow at 8?”

“Perfect.”

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

He didn’t show up.

Once again, you darted a nervous glance at the clock above the table, probably for the millionth time today. It was already half past 9 and Tartaglia was nowhere to be seen. An hour ago, you had tried to calm yourself down by telling yourself that he would be here any second now, that he was held up by someone or something but now, it was hard to think positive.

With a quiet sigh, you plunked yourself down on the couch. Tartaglia had stood you up, and it was stupid to deceive yourself by trying to tell you otherwise. He obviously had no interest in going out with you, it was easy as that. Perhaps he had only agreed in the first place because he didn’t know how to tell you No, or maybe he had fun going around and making others feel absolutely miserable.

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

No, that was actually a lie. You cared. You wanted to know what was wrong, why he wasn’t here with you right now and why he had started to act like you weren’t even friends anymore about two weeks ago. Overnight, he had changed his behavior completely, starting with not visiting the tea shop anymore through to blatantly ignoring you whenever your paths crossed. But no matter how hard you tried to make sense of it, you simply didn’t understand it.

And the fact that he invited you on a date, only to stand you up, confused you even more. His behavior made no sense at all, whichever way you looked at it.

You sighed again. In the beginning, your relationship had been so easy. You never had any trouble understanding him and you had always assumed that he liked to spend time with you. Heck, for a while you had even thought that he returned the feelings you had for him.

But apparently, he didn’t.

You buried your face in your hands, trying to fight back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. What kind of game was he playing? Did he even realize how much his behavior hurt you?

And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you

“You! Stop right there!”

Tartaglia froze as he heard your angry voice. For a brief moment, he considered acting like he hadn’t heard you and just walk on by but deep down, he knew that he owed you an apology and an explanation why he hadn’t shown up to your date almost one week ago. The truth was that he really had wanted to go out with you – but at the same time, he had seen the opportunity to make you hate him by standing you up which would hopefully help him to get over you.

So much for that, he thought to himself as he slowly turned around to you. You were staring at him, your eyes filled with pent-up anger. “I was convinced you’d ignore me again,” you said, arms akimbo. “But it seems you’ve finally gathered the courage to talk to me after you skipped out on me last week.”

“Yeah, about that-“

“Stop,” you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear your half-assed apologies. I just want you to listen to what I have to say.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. In all this time he had never seen you so angry and it was obvious that you were about to release a tirade but he knew very well that he deserved it. He deserved that you didn’t even give him the change to explain himself.

You huffed at the contrite expression on his face. “I’m not going to fall for that,” you warned him. “So don’t even try.”

Tartaglia nodded again, still not saying anything, just as you had told him.

“Great. Listen, I really don’t want to steal your precious time,” you replied in an undertone of utter sarcasm, “I just want to understand what’s going on. We’re friends, aren’t we? Damn, my silly self even thought that we could be more than that for a second but that’s not – that’s not the point now. I only want to know why you treat me like I am not in the least important to you all of a sudden.”

When he didn’t reply anything, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Hello? Haven’t you got a tongue in your head?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear, (Y/N).”

“The truth, Tartaglia,” you stated simply. “I don’t need any apologies or justifications. Just the truth.”

Tartaglia shook his head. There was no way he could tell you the truth because then, he’d have to explain why he was so afraid of falling love, why he was so afraid of being weak. This was none of your business; it was his burden, not yours. You shouldn’t even worry about things like that; you should be in your shop, happily smiling at customers instead of wasting your time with someone like him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said when the silence between the two of you became unbearable, your voice shaking ever so slightly. “If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. I can take it. But stop acting like you care, only to ignore me the day after! Stop pushing me around like that.”

Tartaglia was painfully aware of the fact that you were on the verge of tears. Everything about your posture told him that you were about to lose your composure, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say something. He knew that he had treated you like garbage, that he had hurt your feelings over and over again but what was he supposed to do now? There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to turn back time and wipe the slate clean.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, completely helpless, while you stood there with hanging shoulders as tears started to stream down your beautiful face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve known better,” you sobbed. “I should’ve known better than to fall in love with someone like you!”

In that moment, he felt his protective instinct kick in. It didn’t matter that he had promised himself to stay away from you or that he was the reason for your tears. All he wanted now was to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be fine again.

In an instant, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his body, his hands gently caressing your back as you buried your face in his chest. “Don’t cry,” he mumbled, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Please, darling, don’t cry.”

He held you close, uttering apology after apology and patiently waiting for you to calm down. When you finally pulled away, your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Your lower lip was trembling, almost as if you were trying to fight back even more tears. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Tartaglia replied softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead. “I deserve that.”

“I don’t really hate you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he repeated and cupped your face with both hands, gently wiping away the tears on your cheeks before he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours in a soft, almost chaste kiss. It didn’t last long, and yet it was enough to make him realize that being in love with you didn’t make him weak. It made him strong.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

[freeabortionslol]

The Night We Met

Max Fried X Reader

I walked into the loud party hearing sounds coming from all sides of the room. It felt like I was jumped back into high school. I was in Georgia that weekend for an interview, and it coincidentally fell on the same weekend as Ozzie Albies big party. Ozzie knows everyone that has ever lived and I don’t know how. I’m an actress. I’ve appeared in many large projects such as the marvel films, shameless, beautiful boy, american horror story, and the bling ring. I remember the exact night I met Albies. It was the golden globe awards and he showed up as someone’s date, but I can’t remember who’s. He came up to me and we talked for a bit and he got my phone number.

When I got this invitation, I wasn’t planning on coming, but I didn’t realize I would already be in georgia. The whole house smelled of booze and vodka. I did a lap around and saw many familiar faces I wasn’t expecting to see. Ozzie really does know A LOT of people. I couldn’t find anyone i was particularly close with, so I headed to the kitchen to get a drink. surprisingly, there wasn’t anyone in the kitchen except for one guy. He was tall, brunette, with blue eyes. He was wearing a hoodie and a braves hat on backwards. I recognized him in almost two seconds; Max Fried. I grabbed a sprite from the fridge when I turned to him.

“Do you think Ozzie will mind if i took one of his sprites?”, I asked.

“Nah absolutely not. He doesn’t care.”

“Cool. I don’t really a feel like drinking tonight.”

“Same here.”, he shook his cup of hawaiian punch. “I’m Max by the way.”

“Fried. Right?”

“Yep, and you’re…”

“Y/n.”, I finished his sentence.

“L/n. I love your work. Especially Shameless. I always watch it when I have time off.”, this was surprising since most guys bring up Marvel and then tell me why my character is irrelevant.

“No shit!”, I laughed. “What season are you on?”

“Season 7. The show is really good, and you’re super talented.”

“I could say the same about you. I’ve been a Braves fan since I was a kid, and you’re hands down one of the best pitchers on the team right now.”

“I thought you were from New York?”

“Well I was born here and then moved up when I was about 7”

Max and I talked for about 45 minutes in the kitchen. People would casually come in for another drink like, Chloe Grace Moretz, Lil Nas, and surprisingly Morgan Wallen. Max joked about how people down south are in love with terrible country music. He was really sweet and cute, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“YOOO MAX! WHATS UP MAN?”, Dansby Swanson walked into the kitchen arms open and gave Max a hug.

“Hi Dansby.”, I said to him.

“Y/N!! I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE HERE OR I WOULD’VE COME AND SAID HI!”, He came up and hugged me. I was friends with Dansby’s girlfriend Mallory Pugh, so Dansby and I know each other fondly.

He turned back to Max “Yo Maxy, you hittin that shit?”, Dansby was trying to whisper, but he was clearly wasted so it came out as more of a yell.

“OKAY Swanson let’s get your ass out of here.”, Max said trying to shut him up.

“My ubers waiting outside anyways, so love you both! Farewell!”, Dansby blew kisses at both of us as he exited.

Max was surprisingly able to bounce the conversation back after that awkward encounter. He was shocked by how much I knew about baseball since I never showed my interest in it publicly.

“Do you play any?”

“Yeah sometimes with friends. I was never into softball though so I nev-” We suddenly heard a loud crash coming from the living room.

We both ran out to see what it was. I looked around to see a drunk Ozzie Albies laying on the floor groaning and holding his stomach. Max and I ran up to him since we were the only sober ones in the house.

“Holy shit, Albies! What the hell happened?!”, Max asked him.

“Well, I went to the top of my balcony to make a toast and say thank you to all the people for coming, and then BOOM! I fell.”

I looked down and saw that Ozzy had a huge ass cut on his leg. He must of got it from hitting the coffee table.

“Oh fuck. We gotta clean this up. Where’s the bathroom?”, I asked frustratedly.

“upstairs. first door on the left.”

Max grabbed Ozzy’s arms while I grabbed his legs. The party went on in the living room since people only payed attention to his fall for about thirty seconds. We carried Ozzie all the way up to the bathroom which was huge and modern. He had a jacuzzi and a walk in shower. We lay him down on the floor and I walked up to the cabinet to find gauze.

“You know y/n, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight”, Ozzie said while slurring his speech.

“Well I wasn’t, but I just happened to be in town.”, I looked over to Max and he smiled at me. Albies looked at Max, then me, and then back to Max.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH ARE YOU GUYS-”

“No.”, Max replied

“Not yet.”, I continued. He gave me a soft smirk. It was clear that there was something there. I looked into his blue eyes and starred at his hair under the cap. I’ve always had shit luck with guys but he seemed sweeter than the rest.

“Shit Ozzie.”

“What? What’s wrong?”, he looked terrified.

“You have no peroxide. Which means…”

“We’ll have to use rubbing alcohol.”, Max continued my sentence. I could see the terror on Albies face as I moved closer with the bottle.

“Do you want something to bite down on? Cause this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”, I asked and he nodded. I handed him a towel and he put it in his mouth. I squatted down and started to pour the alcohol on his cut. I saw tears bubbling in his eyes as he felt the urge to scream. “We’re almost done buddy don’t worry.” I finished up the last of it and ran to grab the bandage. “There you go! Good as new.”, I rustled his hair.

“Now just please no more jumping off balconies.”, Max added.

“I didn’t jump!”, Ozzie was arguing like a little kid. I was getting up from my squat when I fell on my ass. The rubbing alcohol spilled all over my shirt.

“Fuck.”, the entire rest of the bottle had poured on top of me. I sat up and started waving my shirt to see if it would dry, but it was no luck since I was covered in it. Albies had passed out on the floor, so I didn’t want to take any of his clothes from his drawers.

“um uhh- stay here and try to wash it off of your skin i’ll be back.”, Max said as he hurried out the door. I took my shirt off leaving only my bra to cover my top half. I grabbed a wash rag and started rubbing the alcohol off my neck hoping the smell would go away. Some people liked it, but i couldn’t stand the stench that alcohol left behind it just reminds me of sanitizer.

“Hey- oh sorry”, Max walked in not realizing i’d be shirtless. “I uh- I brought you this. It was the only thing I had in my car. It was from the last game we played.”, He handed me a white braves jersey with the name “Fried” and the number “54”. I threw it on quickly and looked at myself in the mirror. It was huge and went past my shorts. That was a good thing though because it was comfy and smelled like Max’s cologne.

“I love it. I hope you know i’m keeping this forever”

“Well Snitker’s not gonna be very happy about that, but i’ll tell him the bad news myself.”, We laughed. He seemed genuine and caring. I had been so lonely these past few months just so busy with work that I forgot what it felt like to have someone like this. To be fair, I hadn’t had a guy like this in ages since all the ones i’ve dated were douche bags.

“I kinda don’t want to be here anymore. You know surrounded by all these people. Do you maybe wanna get something to eat?”, he asked me.

“I would love that, but where we would go?”

“The only place that’s open at this hour, duh.”

“Waffle house?”

“Waffle house.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hey does nie huisang's mother ever come back? I really liked the part where she doted and bonded with mingjue. I think even though she's not human she'd be even more delighted with him and more or less adopt him all over again after seeing how he cared so fiercely for huisang (also I don't think she'd care that guangyao has given up. Try to touch either of her kids and your a dead man... or maybe just mingjue? Since he's human and a LOT younger than her maybe she just goes around killing the people that have the capacity and wish to kill him)

spontaneous sequel to this morning’s fic (ao3 link here)

-

Huli jing were pretty rare, as spiritual beasts went, and that was generally considered to be a good thing - when they were bad, they were very very bad - but Nie Mingjue faithfully followed up on every possible lead regardless, putting it out among the other cultivation sects that he had a special interest and would appreciate - with monetary remuneration, even - a heads up should one ever show itself.

Mostly this meant following up on a lot of false leads, including, in one somewhat embarrassing case, an actual fox that had stolen the local farmer’s prize goose.

Still: family was family, and so he kept it up.

He had to stop during the war, naturally, and in the period immediately following it when his health had gotten very bad for a while, although luckily the dragon managed to fix it back up, and he’d been doing very well ever since. Lan Xichen had wondered if it was Clarity and Jin Guangyao had refused to talk to him for a month for some reason, but that wasn’t that important.

He was feeling better now, so he started following up on leads again. Nie Huaisang was coming up on his first quarter-century very soon, and that was supposed to be a big event - his first tail! - and books were all well and good but someone, anyone, with experience was better.

Ironically enough, he found what he was looking for on a scheduled hunt that wasn’t anything anyone had identified as a huli jing, but rather what appeared to be rather a great deal of nu gui appearing all at once near Lanling, enough to make a notorious womanizer like Jin Guangshan start to sweat. They’d all been making the rounds, all the various Great Sects together - even Jiang Cheng had joined in, as well as Lan Wangji, recently emerged from seclusion with a scowl firmly on his face.

“Why do you think they’re aiming at the Jin sect?” Lan Xichen wondered aloud as they walked around the edges of an abandoned village very close to Lanling - one of the trouble spots. “It’d be one thing if it were one of them, but so many...?”

“My theory is that someone is murdering all of Sect Leader Jin’s outside women so that they’ll go after him,” Jiang Cheng said, then glanced at Jin Guangyao. “No offense meant, of course.”

Jin Guangyao waved a hand dismissively. He’d started loosening up in the time since he met the dragon, revealing a bit more of his sharper and nastier side in a way that made Nie Mingjue respect him more than all of his fake softness had, and for some reason that had made Jiang Cheng warm right up to him. All for the good, in Nie Mingjue’s opinion, since they were all but co-raising that nephew of theirs...

“Who would do that, though?” he asked. “It’s as if they bear him a grudge, but it seems like a roundabout way of going about -”

“Dumpling!”

Nie Mingjue stopped moving.

There was a woman standing in the door to one of the village houses. Like a nu gui she was dressed all in red, but her flesh was ruddy and her complexion vibrant; her luxurious hair looped in a widow’s braids but her figure just as gorgeous as it had ever been.

She held out her hands towards Nie Mingjue, smiling. “Oh, cabbage bun, meat pie, my darling! How have you been?”

“...did she just...”

“Right to Chifeng-zun‘s face?”

Nie Mingjue put Baxia away.

“Mingjue-xiong?” Lan Xichen asked, frowning. “You should be careful; we had heard that this village was abandoned of all human life.”

“No one who calls Chifeng-zun a cabbage bun could be human,” Jiang Cheng mumbled under his breath. 

“Second mother?” Nie Mingjue called tentatively as he approached, and ignored how the cultivators around him all abruptly went silent and slack-jawed. “Is that you?”

“Naturally,” she said. “You don’t think I’d miss my baby’s birthday, do you? After you did such a good job taking care of him, too! Oh, my little carp, I’m sorry it took so long. I had to cut one off to escape, you understand, and once you do that you’re really rather stuck until you gather enough power to get back to full strength...would’ve been a touch awkward, wouldn’t you say?”

She certainly talked about as much as Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue reflected.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” he said. If this was the wrong huli jing - and he wouldn’t be shocked if it was, what with the way they changed faces - and a trick was being played, it wouldn’t work on Nie Huaisang. “Were you planning on staying long? Just the birthday, or...?”

He wasn’t giving up Nie Huaisang to anyone at all, not even his birth mother.

“I hadn’t quite decided,” she said, nodding in a way that meant that she understood his meaning and didn’t intend to dispute it; he relaxed at the sight of her agreement. “I got a little distracted, actually. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what that nasty man tried to do to you!”

“Nasty man?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled. “Do you mean Wen Ruohan? That was ages ago.”

“Not him, my gooey little egg! That nasty Jin sect leader, all sly and underhanded tricks - not that I mind sly and underhanded tricks, of course, least of all murderous ones - but I mean, really. The gall of that man, thinking he could snap up my little morsel before I could!”

“...does she like Chifeng-zun or want to eat him?” Jiang Cheng whispered.

“Unknown,” Lan Wangji murmured back.

“Shhh,” Lan Xichen said. “A-Yao, are you all right? You’ve gone terribly pale...”

“Anyway, chicken wing, I decided to bring back all of his nightmares to haunt him,” she chattered on cheerfully, throwing her head haughtily, the eyes of all the men and women irresistibly followed the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders, though most of them were able to pull their eyes away a moment later. That was her mercy, rather than their strength; she was a strong enough huli jing to entrap a sect leader, and Nie Mingjue’s father had been no slouch, even if he had bad taste in bed partners. “It’s been ever so much fun.”

Nie Mingjue sighed. “Second mother,” he said. “I thought I asked you not to kill people? As a special birthday favor to me?”

“Oh, pork chop, I know! I haven’t forgotten - no killing people around you, I remember, I remember. I haven’t killed anyone...well, in connection with this, anyway. I just had a little chat with some of my underworld friends and brought the ones who’d already died back.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes shot straight to a - by now - even more pale Jin Guangyao. “Uh,” he said. “By chance, second mother, did you happen to pass by Yunping...?”

“Such a sweet little tanghulu you are! I could pop you right into my mouth and never frown.” He was only a few steps away from her now, and she danced forward to pat him on the cheek. “Don’t worry! I know how much you care for your friends. I made sure not to send A-Shi anywhere those mean old cultivators could get her.”

“A-Yao! Oh, someone help me, I think he’s stopped breathing - come, sit down -”

“You really need to stop bringing back nu gui,” Nie Mingjue decided to say instead of dealing with...that. “They’re not getting past Jinlin Tower’s defenses anyway, and we’re worried about collateral damage.”

His second mother heaved a sigh. “I know, I know,” she said. “I had the same thought as you, meatball, about the defenses. You caught me just as I finished upgrading.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“Of course, it isn’t working out right,” she added, pouting. “You’d think someone who got accused of being a demon so often wouldn’t be so picky about who he’s being asked to murder.”

“I already told you that I’m not a vicious ghost!” a surprisingly familiar voice retorted from inside the house. “I refuse to go around killing people!”

“Oh no - now Jiang Cheng’s fallen down, too! Wangji, could you - Wangji? Wangji!”

Nie Mingjue covered his face with his hand. “You brought back Wei Wuxian.”

“I brought back Wei Wuxian,” his second mother agreed. “I thought it’d be poetic justice - the wronged man come back for revenge. But he’s being persnickety about it, so I have half a mind to just let him go.”

“Good idea,” Nie Mingjue said, deciding to just - let it go. Someone else could deal with it. Possibly Lan Xichen, since it sounded like everyone else had fainted. “Anyway, you’re far too busy to pursue vengeance right now.”

“I am?”

“I know how much you like to throw parties. Don’t you want to help me plan Huaisang’s twenty fifth?”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands. “Absolutely! We can invite positively everyone that tried to get in your way and show off how good a job raising him you did!”

Nie Mingjue thought back over all the creatures he’d ever encountered.

“We’re going to need a bigger venue.”

[softluci]

aggressive affection (round two!)

[ part two of this, with the now dateables. guess which one(s) i have a crush on—i am actually so embarrassed because i'm getting shy trying to write this, but it's a must that i put this into the universe. if you want to read this first, rather than the one with the brothers, here is the preface: ] 

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,”  “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth. 

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

dia

you—why did you—look. 

dia is a very nice, social guy; very smiley, you guys get along great, that's great! 

he is still very much a demon (the prince of them, in fact)  and very much not one of your friends from the human world, no matter how much he wants you to treat him as such. 

you should've known better. 

he'd invited you to the castle for tea and a nice chat—a regular occurrence between the two of you so that he could see how you were doing, how the program was going, talk about lucifer, play catch up; nothing out of the ordinary. 

he complimented you on your performance thus far, telling you about how well you've done—which was just standard kindness—so would you like to explain to the class why your immediate response was, “so kiss me then,” ? 

he was totally fine with it, but he was also very confused, so it was only fair that he pulled you into his lap to get a better understanding of what you meant. if you do the math, it adds up, i swear. 

luckily, you don’t even have to explain yourself with this one because it seems like he already knows. this is good because, given his proximity to you at that moment, you wouldn’t have done a good job explaining yourself anyway. 

“is this how you talk to your human friends?” 

it was a simple question, with a simple answer, it’s just that you were nose-to-nose, and his eyes were hooded all of a sudden and his hand was cupping the side of your face so, naturally, you had some difficulty forming words—fortunately, you managed to nod instead of embarrassing yourself by trying to talk. 

“and do they ever do what you ask?” 

again, it would’ve been foolish of you to try and speak, so you just shook your head. you were doing a surprisingly nice job of maintaining your dignity, well done! this is nice compensation for the fact that you seemed to forget you were dealing with the demon of demons, but he was kind enough to remind you—

“well, i’m not one of them, so i’ll do as you say. you don’t mind, right?” 

do you have a saving grace with this man? meh. he doesn’t want to do anything in front of the others, but he can literally go somewhere private with you under the guise of wanting to talk. it’s not like anyone is gonna tell him he can’t. 

barbatos

you don’t make any sense. you watched black butler know that he’s the scariest person in the devildom, why did you think you could do this? he might be a menace not too far underneath that professional exterior, but that doesn’t mean you have to fuck around and find out. or maybe that’s exactly what that means. 

all he did was bring you tea. he saw you sitting in the castle’s library doing schoolwork—dia offered to let you study there to enjoy some quiet that you wouldn’t have gotten at the house, and because you aren’t one to forgo such a kind gesture, you accepted. 

he set it down on the table in front of you, much to your surprise. 

“oh, thank you! you really didn’t have to,” you said, looking up at him from your seat. 

“nonsense,” he started, smiling softly, “you’ve been working hard.”

you, for whatever reason, took this as an opportunity to pretend barbatos was one of your human friends. 

“you shouldn’t say that unless—” 

that’s all he let you say. what you were going to say was, “you shouldn’t say that unless you plan on making out with me.” trouble was, he already knew that. you must have forgotten who you were talking to. 

before you could finish, his hand was under your chin, and his other hand was resting on the arm of your chair, effectively caging you in, and effectively keeping you from looking away. 

his smile went from benevolent to teasing meaning you got the menace you wanted, as he asked,“unless what?” 

he took more joy in your flustered state than he would care to admit, but he’d recently learned that you had an affinity for trying to catch people off guard, so he thought it was more than fair to do the same to you—as a treat, for him. 

that said, it’s no surprise that you had to endure relentless teasing, him asking you what you wanted from him, why you were so shy all of a sudden, telling you not to be shy and that he wouldn’t bite, unless you asked nicely. what? he liked how warm your face made his hand. 

“what’s wrong? don’t you want to kiss me?” 

okay. that was the last straw. you never even hinted that you didn’t wanna kiss this man, and here he was, making assumptions about you as a person. 

you, in your infinite confidence and assertive nature, said, “i—i never said i didn’t want to.” 

and you know what, you really showed him because even though he laughed at you, even though he made a show of taking off his gloves, even though his hand moved from the arm of the chair to your thigh—even though he took every necessary step to remind you that he was in control, you still got what you wanted. and then some. 

your only saving grace with him is the fact that he breathes professionalism and he’s always busy. when he isn’t busy, however. well. 

simeon

you goddamn heathen. oh, you fucking freak. simeon has a reputation to uphold, you can’t treat him like one of your heathen little human friends, which means you can’t just say whatever pops into your head when you’re talking to him, which means—you should really learn to take compliments normally. 

simeon is a nice guy, and he likes you a lot, so it only makes sense that he compliments you whenever he can. in other words, he dishes out anywhere from one to four compliments whenever the two of you are together. he can’t help it, he just thinks you’re neat! 

the fact remains that you chose to be a menace to the angelic persona he is supposed to project at all times. 

it was a simple compliment. he enjoyed spending time with you, and he told you so, just telling you that your presence was a pleasant one. 

your response was actually normal—it was a simple, “i like being around you too!” 

in a way, this is simeon’s fault, if you think about it. he could’ve just said, “thank you,” and kept it pushing, but instead, he said, “really?”

why would he think you didn’t like being around him? that was unacceptable, so, really, what choice did you have but to give him the most solid affirmation he would ever hear? 

“of course! every day, i’m like, ‘wow, simeon is so cool, we should make out,’ you know?”

what you were expecting was for him to blush and laugh it off, call you silly, and maybe pat your head for good measure. that was a reasonable thing to expect, albeit that is not even close to what you got. 

since you were being so casual, simeon figured that he could—that he should—do the same. it was only natural that he stop being a model angel for a little while, right? 

oh, don’t look so flustered, it’s not like you’ve never been backed against a wall before. how many times has a demon done this to you? it’s only fair that an angel gets a turn. 

“actually,” he started, lips already brushing against yours as he spoke. “i don’t know. would you mind showing me?” 

if you are, understandably, too flustered to function, he will gladly make the first move, don’t worry, but if his first move happens to be taking your bottom lip between his teeth instead of kissing you, well… there’s not much you’re going to be able to do about it, so you may as well just enjoy. 

i mean, you tempt an angel, and you get what’s coming to you—that’s all there is to it. 

similar to barbatos, you will only be safe from this man when he’s in public or around a few of the others. if you’re alone with him and in private, he’s already under the impression that he doesn’t have to be an angel with you, so find joy in the side of him you’ve uncovered. 

solomon (derogatory)

you two deserve each other, really. both of you are public enemies. he was just as terrible as your friends from back home, except he was always walking the line like a tightrope. he was always on the verge of making his teasing into a reality, and to be quite frank, you were starting to get fed up—and you were right to be. but this is what you get for being a dirty solomon enjoyer. 

all of his empty threats and demands about kissing you, his lingering touches on your lower back or waist or thighs, his dumb little smirks on his dumb little face, his occasional bites wherever you were vulnerable, his habit of putting his hand around your throat for fun (or so he says)—those all came with the territory. he hasn’t had a friend to tease in ages (he can’t do it to asmo without it immediately turning into an hour long event), so you get it all at once, congratulations! 

don’t look so upset, he’s an attractive guy, so this is still a win. 

now, all of that said, you were hard pressed to find an opportunity to catch this man off guard, but once you got your chance, you latched onto it exactly as you should’ve. 

the two of you were in his room, studying (“studying”) for an upcoming exam. he was sitting in a chair, and you were on his bed a few feet away. you needed something from your bag, which was on the side of his chair farthest from you, so you decided to walk by him to get it, like a normal person. look at you, acting regular for once.

evidently, that was a mistake. as soon as you were in front of him, his hand was on your waist, and you were pulled into his lap. 

you turned to look at him, eyebrows raised and everything, and he seemed to have an explanation ready to go, paired with one of his signature smiles.

“i was wondering when i’d get to bother you again.” 

this was your chance—probably the only chance you’d get in a while, so it made sense that you took this opportunity to be heinous, even though you were in a rather compromising position. 

“either sleep with me or leave me alone.”

you did it. for a moment, you had him. the surprise plastered on his face was enough gratification to last you a lifetime, however fleeting it may have been. unfortunately for you, he had a wonderful recovery time. 

before you could fully enjoy the look on his face, it was gone, replaced by a more sinister expression that almost made you regret your decision. 

for what it’s worth, you didn’t have to see that menacing look of his for long because he turned you away from him to press your back into his chest. if that makes you feel any better. 

“i’ll never leave you alone,” he hummed, teeth already grazing your neck. his hand moved from your waist to your inner thigh, slowly separating one leg from the other. “but you already knew that.” 

you didn’t have a saving grace with this man before, and now you never will.