#if they'd been up front about being sick that'd have been one thing but they weren't and i had friends coming in from out of town that i

[looselipssinkships-x]

Lmao guys it's been almost a year since i had to break up with someone I didn't realize i was dating

[her-acts-of-cruelty]

HIII i love eddie so much i have this scenario bouncing around my poor little brain about like him sitting out in the rain because he doesn’t want to be in the house and the reader who’s the neighbor that moved in after eddie went to jail and they like invite him inside and give him some soup and tea :-) give that man a nice cozy time. he deserves it

HI SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAVE BEEN A BUSY LITTLE BOY!

I really liked the idea, I've done a little spin on how I thought Eddie deserved at least one friend who tried to help him. Am I exploring the concept of him being gay and leaving his wife for me? That's for me to know. I'm hoping this reaches the right audience, because I love men and men should love me too.

Also if you have more ideas you should send them. For chatacter ai bots or fics.

Synopsis: bringing an old friend in for a cuppa after seeing him get caught in the rain. Pre established friendship and !???

Cw: some language, mention of beer, but overall its tame

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

You'd never really had a significant reputation in Chadder. You drifted outside the community, maybe it was your age, but you never really felt close with the village.

Aside from Eddie that is.

You used to work next door to his garage, in the little shop. Passing each other each frosty morning turned into combining your routes. Your radiating presence most certainly a stark contrast from the long and dull day he had alone. So walking to work with each other soon turned into going for a pint together to celebrate the day.

You'd exchange stories, little artifacts from each others day. Sometimes there'd be gossip, things You'd over heard in the shop with the things his loose lipped customers would mumble as he worked on their cars. Other times he'd tell you about his kids, what they'd been up to at school and how proud he was of his growing girls. You two made it work.

That was, until he disappeared.

His incarceration was much to your surprise and it seemed you were the only one who had your doubts. You chalked that up to why the residents went a little quiet when you walked by.

Things became a lot slower without Eddie. Your routine had suddenly been lost, your source of the news gone- it seemed as though you were well and truly alone.

By whatever sick twist of luck though, five years had passed and Eddie was out.

Your stomach churned when you first lay eyes on him, your body unsure of how to react- so you did the one logical thing. You stayed away from him.

You avoided him like the plague, worried about all the stewing feelings that had blossomed in his absence. It ate up at you quickly though, the way his face dropped when you turned around and marched off made you wish you could choke up your insides and never dream again.

It went on like this for a couple weeks. Now that spring was approaching, the rainy season was in full swing. You hid in your house most of the time anyway, but hearing the sudden large rain drops on the windows made your expression drop. You bolted outside to grab your drying washing off the line that'd been put up in your front garden. As you cursed yourself, something out the corner of your eye stuck out.

Eddie.

Alone.

You bit your lip and brought your things inside, tossing them carelessly into a basket by the washing machine. The rain wasn't slowing down, its aggressive downpour had you praying Eddie had left that spot and rushed home.

When you checked out the window though, he was still slumped against one of the black metal fences- trying his best to smoke a drooping cigarette.

Your stomach did another backflip as you decided what to do. You couldn't just leave him there to freeze, could you? You got a few more curses out of your system before kicking off some shoes and marching into the rain.

"Eddie?"  You called out as you approached him, the look of panic across his face told you all you needed to hear.

"(Name)- I didn't know you uh- it's raining why are you out 'ere?" He scrambled up off the floor, feeling sorry for himself as he came to his full height.

"Could ask you the same, what's going on? Shouldn't you be with the wife?"

He winced, "ah- its just a bit right now"

You nodded, watching him slowly get more soaked, "you should come back for a cuppa yknow, you're gonna catch your death out here like that"

He wanted to fight you, wanted you to know he belonged to be out here, fighting for warmth like the animal he is.

But also he wanted a warm cup of tea.

So he picked himself off the ground and looked down at you, expecting you to lead. You sigh once more and gesture for him to follow you back inside your house.

He kicks his boots off at the door and let  his eyes wander the walls. It's almost like he'd left his troubles outside, the way a childlike wonder filled him. You hadn't changed much since he'd left, and he liked that.

You'd already made it to the kitchen, working on tea, "Eddie? I might have a few things of yours in my wardrobe soon if you want something a hit warmer to slip into?" His gaze left the walls and met yours, nodding softly, "Yeah that'd uhm-" "Where they usually are, help yourself," You gestured for him for him head upstairs.

A light must have turned on, maybe this was the first sense of familiarity he'd been allowed to chase

. Gentle footsteps made their way down the floor and the hulking man now standing before you in some grey joggers and tee.

"Thank you- you don't know how much it-" "I heard about what happened, I didn't know how to approach it," you blurted, your body clearly wanting to rid the words from  it's festering wound.

He furrowed his brows a little, "is that why you've you've avoiding me like everyone else?"

"It's not like everyone else, you know it never has been-"

"Then what is it?"

"Eddie your tea is going cold-" you tried to shrug him off.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, you saw it in the way his expression slowly sunk, "do you think I'm a monster too?"

"No! It's just- fucking hell Eddie, I just haven't been well without you." He slowly sat down onnthe couch at that.

Silence choked the room as you took the note to sit beside him. He pulled you close, fingertips caressing your side as he grabbed you. His head rested on yours and for a moment you felt... at peace? You're not sure what it was, but you sighed and got closer.

"You know I didn't uhm-" he tried to break the silence, an attempt to reassure you.

"Yeah I do, tried to get you proven innocent."

He didn't seem to surprised by the notion, "thank you."

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day twenty-three

@ailesswhumptober 23 — fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!” ↳ the distribution yard, circa 1898 word count; 1.4k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Oscar's head is pounding.

God, he doesn't want to be conscious.

He's felt something steadily descending on him, settling in, over the last few days, but all symptoms of…anything, really, are easy to shrug off as the usual symptoms of his lifestyle. The body aches, the irritability, the inability to get warm — explained away by constant manual labour and violence, his own personality, and the fact it's coming into winter and he's only got one too-small jacket to his name.

Though he'd given up on excuses today when he'd woken up what felt like minutes after falling asleep, soaked in sweat and tangled in damp sheets. Feverish. Chasing the threads of one of those nightmares that only being too hot can trigger, but he's lost them and gotten up instead. Gotten dressed early, hoped washing himself with his rag soaked in cold water would fix it.

It hadn't.

So, he's sick. Not like it matters anyway. Wiesel isn't in the business of giving him days off, and Oscar wouldn't ask anyway. Him having a day off would mean Morris having a day working alone — being alone — and that's out of the question. Unfair, for one thing — the work's impossible when there's only one of you, Oscar knows. But Oscar also has a duty to look after his little brother, look out for him, and he'll do that, no matter the circumstances. Even with sweat at his hairline, skin burning beneath his thin clothes, head spinning as he trudges to the yard and then through the early morning stretch of the workday.

At least it doesn't occur to Morris to be worried about him.

It's always been like that, perhaps a symptom of him being a little brother, but it never seems to cross Morris' mind that Oscar could ever not be alright. Really not alright, at least.

Oscar could compare it to what he's heard folk say about fathers — how normal kids grow up seeing their das as invulnerable, God-like figures that just serve their duties in strength and protection — but that'd mean getting too close to those thoughts and comments about how he's basically Morris' Da. Raised him more than their actual Da ever did, raised him since he was a babby — and that's not a path Oscar's willing to take when he feels like this. His head already hurts enough, stomach churning with an empty nausea, shirt clinging to his sweaty back.

Morris thinks Oscar's just having an off day.

It's the miserable type of cold, the type that makes Morris' lungs scratchy and his nose run, but Oscar doesn't seem cold. He hadn't put his jacket on, and though Morris had considered for a moment if Oscar might've just forgotten it, he'd decided against pointing it out. Oscar does everything intentionally, always on the ball, and he gets pissed off if he thinks Morris is trying to act like he knows better. So Morris had stayed quiet. Confirmed to himself it was for the best when Oscar, sort of slurred, had reminded Morris to put his own jacket on right before they'd left, which Morris had. But then Oscar hadn't said anything more on the short walk to work, so Morris figured maybe Oscar's mad at him.

He can't really think what for, but, well. Oscar always does know a lot better than he does. Morris knows he's stupid and annoying in ways he doesn't mean to be, and sometimes Oscar explodes at him for it, but sometimes he just takes it. Swallows down all the ways Morris is useless, and swallows down everything else too. Goes all quiet and dangerous like water crawling to a boil. Like Da used to.

And Morris, at least, knows better than to ask for it when either of them are like that.

He focuses on his work.

He's up front at the desk, taking the filthy coins the newsies hand over and giving them their papes in return. Not the best way to keep warm, not like the lifting and moving Oscar's doing, but it's a distraction, at least. Half-amusing to bump the newsies' cold-worn hands into the hard desk and watch them wrench back. Drop the papes and watch them struggle to pick them up with numb fingers.

"Morris," Uncle Wiesel warns him, whacking him hard across the shoulder. "Brother's bein' useless enough today, don't need you fuckin' around too."

Morris rolls his eyes and gets back to it. Thumbs through the piles of papes, counting quick in his head, and passes them over in half-clumsy piles. He has no idea what the headline is, Oscar hadn't read it to him, but nobody seems especially excited. Or maybe it's just the cold.

Even Finch seems quieter than usual as he takes his papes, a less-than-ambitious stack of thirty, but he's looking behind Morris into the office rather than looking like he's going to move right on.

"What," Morris snaps at him, already counting out a few sets of tens in the stack for the next customers.

Morris hears the thud behind him rather than Finch's reply. He turns immediately, and sees Oscar bracing himself heavily against the wall with a palm, head down, breathing hard. The crate he must've been holding is on its side on the floor, its contents tipped out across the hardwood.

"Os?"

Oscar staggers.

Without hesitation, Morris tosses down the papes and runs to his brother's side, heart already sort of racing with a familiar helplessness, but he needs to do something. Reaches out to hover a hand by Oscar's bicep, ready to catch him — but unwilling to quite touch him, lest it get him punched.

"Os? Hey? Stay with me, okay?" he says, only slightly shaky.

It doesn't stop Oscar going down.

He drops like a stone, hard muscle turning in an instant to dead weight, and Morris can't even catch him. Tries, and only succeeds in hitting the floor with him, his brother's head landing heavy on his thigh. And Morris can immediately feel how he's burning, like a log fire in the freezing cold office. Hot enough it sinks into Morris.

He didn't get punched, at least.

Trembling, he dares to place a hand on Oscar's forehead, perhaps half in the hopes of making him stir and swipe at Morris now, but he doesn't. He's out cold, hardly even shifts as Morris' cold fingers push under his sweat-damp curls, feeling the disconcerting simmer of his skin.

"Where the fuck—" Wiesel spits from somewhere, and Morris glances up to see him poke his head through the window. He looks around for a second before he finds both his nephews on the floor.

"I—" Morris chokes out, heart racing. "He's sick."

Wiesel stares at them. Face curled into utter contempt, like Morris has spat in his face, and his mouth opens like he's ready to start hollering. But then he seems to sort of…process that Oscar isn't moving. Isn't getting up.

"He's out?" he asks.

"Passed out. Jus'—dropped. Got a fever."

"For fuck's sake."

Wiesel drags a ruddy hand down his face, looking out to the line of waiting newsies. The ones further back are beginning to shout and jeer and push, eager to know what's going on.

"You leave him there," Wiesel says. "Get back up here an'—"

"No."

"…Fuck did you just say to me?"

Oh, Morris is going to be sick. His heart is racing like a bird's, stomach twisting, but he refuses to back down. Thinks of every time Oscar has stood his ground for him, against Wiesel or Da or anyone else.

"I. I gotta take him back inside. Somewhere safe, at least. Ain't leavin' him on the floor."

Wiesel's staring at him like he's going to beat the absolute shit out of Morris later. Morris doesn't doubt he will. But he gets his feet under him and hauls Oscar's arm around his shoulder, and grits his teeth against the effort of lifting him.

Fuck, Oscar's heavy. Maybe Morris should've eaten some breakfast.

"I'll be back," he promises over his shoulder. Wiesel ignores him, taking his place at the desk serving. "Fuck. Okay. C'mon."

He drags Oscar out the back door. He's soaked with sweat and wheezing by the time he gets him to their bedroom, drops him heavy on the thin mattress of his bed.

Morris sure doesn't think himself much of a nurse, but — armed with every memory of what Oscar's always done for him when he's sick, and some prayer — he's going to try.

[elifalvey]

After an incredibly heavy and unexpected few hours for both him and Aslihan, Elijah sat in the car that was parked in their driveway with his forehead pressed against the top of the steering wheel. His eyes were screwed shut and his hands were a bit clammy as he dug his fingers into his thighs, and he tried his very best to calm himself down in order to process what the hell just happened. Despite the lengthiness of their ER visit, it all seemed like it had gotten thrown at him — at them — so quickly. But maybe it had felt that way because he'd been gone for so long, and he hadn't really gotten a chance to think about what the possibility of another pregnancy could mean for Aslihan. Not like she had probably been thinking about it since the second she found out she was pregnant in the first place. He should have been thinking about it. The worry that shocked his system was practically immediate when he first saw his girlfriend hit the floor and it hadn't left his body since, not even when the initial panic was long since over; the mixture of good and bad news made him realize that this should have been on his mind all along. Maybe then, there could have been something that they could have done. Found out sooner. Been able to consider their options. Something, anything to try and prevent the pain she's going through.

Instead, he chose to run from everything and it came back spectacularly to bite him. In simpler terms, he was freaking the fuck out about it. Ever since they got the okay to go home — after they'd been told that the baby was alright but Aslihan might die, of course — they hadn't spoken a word to one another, hardly even shared a glance as every time he tried to, she wouldn't meet his gaze. As much as he wanted to reach out, to comfort her in some way, he wasn't going to push it. There was no way to comfort her. Not after news like that. So he drove them home, watched her jump out of the Jeep to head inside, and now here he was. Teetering on the edge of mental as he tried to wrap his brain around the fact that the woman he was in love with, whom he spent over a month apart from, could very well . . . fuck, he didn't even want to think about it. He was horrified of that possibility and the longer he sat alone, in silence, the more he realized how much of an idiot he was for this.

She needed him. She needed him just as much as he needed her and yet, he wasn't there. He wasted what was now considered extremely precious time because of his own insecurities, his own fears — ones that he should have been facing with her, instead of fighting against them. How could he even begin to fix that?

Going inside would probably be a good start, a voice in his head that sounded eerily like his mother reminded him. He let go of a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding in, brought one of his hands up to switch the engine off and pull the keys out of the ignition, and decided right then and there that, that was what he was going to do.

He didn't want to run anymore. He wanted . . . this. To spend every last fucking minute on this earth with Aslihan until she'd grow sick of him. To be there for her, for their daughter, for the cats. Whatever that may look like in the future. He wanted to be home again. He was frustrated with himself that it took him nothing short of a giant kick in the ass to fully come to terms with that, but he supposed that'd put his own feelings aside for the time being until he was positive that she was alright. Hopefully, it wasn't too late.

He jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind him as he trotted up the steps towards the front door, thankful that she hadn't locked it behind her when she came in just mere minutes ago so that he could slip in without having to knock. The first thing his eyes landed on were the cats as they huddled by the door, inevitably excited from their mother coming home, but he didn't focus on them for too long before he saw Aslihan halfway up the stairs. The look of surprise on her face completely shattered his heart, no more than the question that followed from her lips. The first thing she said to him in hours, and he couldn't quite tell if it was good or bad. "I'm . . . I'm staying." He tried to sound clear, confident, although the crack in his voice betrayed him and he tried to cover it up with a weak cough. "U-Unless you'd . . . rather me leave, then - then I will. If you want to be alone, I get it, but . . . I want to come home." He swallowed nervously, hopeful that she'd be receptive to what he had to say. "Maybe we can talk?"

For a moment, just a moment, things were fine. Not great, not good, not even remotely okay, but at least things were fine. They were talking. They were laughing. They were making plans for the future. No matter what happened in the end, no matter if her heart soared with happiness or grew heavy with sadness, she knew they were meant to be in each other's lives. If there was something Aslihan has learned over the years, it's that soulmates and loves of people's lives and twin flames are real. And deep down, she knew that was the case with Elijah. She knew that was the case with Atlas and Raymond. You see, love never fades, but changes. It can evolve into something new. In her case, once she's loved someone, she knew that there will always be a place of love in her heart for that person. And for Eli? She knew that she'll always be in love with him, whether they last or don't. Of course, she hopes that they will. She hopes that this bump in the road won't be the end of their journey, just a part of it. She hopes that their journey could be one of love that becomes one about family. She hopes that his fears are simply that, fears. She hopes that he'll choose them.

But within the next moment, everything changed. She couldn't move for a moment and eventually, Eli had to pick her up and carry her to the car. Making their way to the emergency room and then, after a few hours, they quietly made their way back home. Not speaking to each other, Asli unable to look at him, even after they were parked outside their house.

The good news? Asli is still pregnant. As of March 25th, she is twenty weeks pregnant with her third baby girl. A baby girl who is healthy and developing in a good manner, fortunately. Everything with their daughter is all good. It's the placenta that's the problem. The placenta is formed low again, leaving Aslihan with placenta previa for a second time. And with the way her health was the first time around and how it's been the past two years, her doctor is worried.

Asli might not make it this time, the doctor warned. But they were going to do everything they can.

Quietly, the anthropologist got out of the vehicle and headed into the house. She petted the kitties as they came up to greet her, the woman taking off her shoes and hanging her jacket up on the coat rack. Mindlessly she began to head up the stairs before stopping at a sound. None of the cats could've made that sound. Alex wasn't home, having been with Atlas for the week. Slowly, she turned around. Dark, misty eyes landing on her boyfriend and she tried to remember how to breathe. "Wh-What are you doing here?" she whispered. It was the first thing she's said to him in hours, admittedly shocked that he was here. She wasn't sure if he had headed back to Rachel's, but to see him there? For the first time in weeks? Part of her had dreamed of this moment over the past month. Wishing, hoping, that he would come back home. But not like this. Not after finding out about this.

[maxislvt]

Her Body Is My Coffin

All your life you'd been told to stay away from the monsters that lurked beyond the gates. They were mean, nasty, and more than happy to eat up anyone as sweet as you. Well, that's what dad told you. He never told you about the monsters that send you hand written poems and pretty flowers attached. He never mentioned how they smelt nice and knew all the right places to kiss you. Too bad for you, because those are the most dangerous ones.

Warnings: Smut, Loss of virginity, fingering, and oral sex! This is a darkfic however this part isn't really that dark!

Series Masterlist

Your parents had always warned you about the creatures that lived beyond the gate. The big ones with nasty teeth and huge claws that would rip up cute little kids like you if they ever ventured out too far. Mermaids with matted hair and sharp teeth that would swim around your feet and drag you right down to the deepest depths of the ocean. Packs of big, hairy werewolves that'd chase you for hours just to rip you limb from limb with their mates. Witches that were happy to cut you open and use your body parts for all kinds of sick spells. For years, you'd been taught that the only thing between you and a gruesome, untimely death was the magic silver gate that surrounded your city.

What your parents didn't warn you about were the pretty monsters. The ones that magically knew what books you liked or would send you sweet notes with the prettiest handwriting you'd ever seen. Those were the real danger. They could sneak into your heart and make you do all sorts of crazy things. For most, it came in the form of simple things like handing over large sums of money or allowing their mind to be enslaved for the rest of their natural lives. For you, it seemed to be something much more intimate.

This monster, whatever it may have been, wanted your heart.

At first, you didn’t think much of the strange gifts you began to receive. You had many suitors so waking up to random and generally outlandish presents. What separated your ghoulish suitors from others was there was no name attached to anything they had given you. Though it frustrated you a bit at first, you began to appreciate it. You had planned to return the first gift and politely decline the advances, just like all the others, but with no name attached you had to keep it. As the days passed, you couldn’t help but to appreciate the craftsmanship of the bracelet. The symbol that hung in the middle as a trinket was foregin to you, but you wore it regardless. The gifts continued to flow in after that. Each more expensive and grander than the last. Simple jewelry paired with pretty flowers turning into books accompanied with never ending love letters. At one point, the suitor had thrown themes out the window and started buying you just about anything you wanted.

Though you came to accept the gifts with open arms, your curiosity was getting the better of you. You wanted to know who your suitor was. It was a dangerous decision, but you couldn't help yourself. You didn't think there would be any danger —if it was purely for a chance at eating you, they would've done it by now. Plus, whatever it was had some means of getting into the city without being detected. That meant either someone was helping them or they were already living among humans undetected. With next to no information, you set off late at night in an attempt to find your mysterious monster.

You needlessly chose to sneak through your window, somehow assuming it would be easier than walking out the front door. After an awkward bit of wiggling and pushing, you say off towards the edge of the city. The only lead you had was that most monsters dwelled in the woods behind the city. If your suitor was sneaking in, they'd probably be coming from there. The east and west gates were heavily guarded and the north was too risky to sneak in.

The woods south of the city always terrified you as a child. You'd only been out down south once for a dear when you were younger. The evil that dwelled within took its toll on the land — so much so that even small parts of it slipped past the gate. It had become a stark contrast to lush forests and vibrant landscapes you frolicked in as a child. It was dark and cold. The trees twisted and formed into odd shapes. The grass remained dead and a flat beige color year round. Sickening growls and other unsettling sounds would come from deep within it. You never knew what or who was making such noises, but you felt bad for them.

Being back near the gates again had reawakened your fear.

You'd become painfully aware of the fact you were exposed to whatever hid in the forest. The feeling of being watched made your stomach tight. Your plan to investigate had been watered down to surveying the area from a distance. Fear had overtaken you and even walking straight became a struggle. The noises from beyond the gate were getting to you. Labored breathing, the sound of footsteps, even the occasional whimper. Forest monsters weren't typically so cruel. You tried to ignore it. You kept your head down and your mind busy while the creature from beyond toyed with you. But when the whining and rustle of trees mixed with unexplainable squelching, you panicked. You ran back home with any consideration for the slowly waking city.

You hadn't gotten any sleep that night and the only reason your night hadn't been a complete waste was because of an envelope that was set in your windowsill. Initially, you thought your suitor had gone back to romancing you with poetic words, but you weren't disappointed to see a letter. You weren't sure what you expected from it. Maybe a long winded confession or an essay on why you were the most adorable person your suitor ever laid their eyes on.

You received three things in that letter.

One, a confirmation on who and what your suitor was. It was more of an apology for what happened the night before, but you were thankful to put a name to such gifts. Though you had a couple vague ideas of what they may have been, knowing she was a vampire made you even more curious. Her name was Wanda Maximoff. It was a foregin surname you were sure, but you decided to focus more on the fact that she had been the mysterious creature watching you last night. It wasn’t the best apology if you were being honest with yourself. Though she admitted to her wrong doings, she seemed to justify them by rambling on about how cute looked. “Like an unprotected newborn kit being swarmed by an eagle” as she strangely put it.

The second being an invitation to meet properly. Wanda didn’t expect you to be bold enough to meet her without the protection of the gate between you, so she kindly suggested simply talking where you two had first “met” last night. She did mention not wanting to meet until next week. There was no given reason as to why you two could not meet any sooner, but you assumed she’d be off doing important vampire things. Vampires were some of the most organized monsters and you knew they had lineages and collations you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around. If Wanda had money to throw at you just about every day for weeks on end, it would make sense she had some important job among her people.

The third and final gift was a bit more intimate and tangible. It was a polaroid you didn’t notice until it slipped out the envelope. It had fallen face down on the ground. You knelt down and noticed the blood red writing on the back. ‘From thinking about you ♡’ it said in the cutest cursive you’d ever seen. The cuteness of the tiny heart and handwriting did nothing to prepare you for what was one the front of the polaroid. The second you flipped the photo, your mouth went dry. Wanda sat on her knees with her thighs spread apart. Her fingers buried deep inside of herself. You could see the way her slick pooled into the palm of her hand. With her mouth slightly agape, you could see the way her fangs poking out at the inside of her lip. She wanted you and that was simply another declaration of it.

The polaroid had been ingrained into your retinas with how much you stared at it. It made the next eight days a living hell for you. No matter how much you tried to ignore it or actually engage in the things happening around you, your mind always wandered back to it. There were multiple times when you had nearly caved and touched yourself to the thought of how Wanda would treat you. Some days you thought of her as a soft and gentle lover. One ready to please you at all times and happy to ruin you. Other nights you thought of her as a greedy and cruel lover who'd tear you apart and use you for her own pleasure.

By the time your special day came, you had overwhelmed yourself. You frantically searched for the perfect outfit. It had to be cute but not too cute or your parents would ask questions. It couldn't be too revealing or you’d freeze before you even got halfway to your destination. Eventually, you gave up and decided to wear something basic in hopes your vampiric lover wasn’t as high fashion as the ones you saw on TV. You felt strangely protected when leaving out the second time. Though you were sure Wanda was miles away from you, knowing someone was waiting from you made the abandoned and unkept area less scary. There was a bit more pep in your step as you made your way further south. You weren’t even aware of how giddy you were until Wanda pointed it out.

“And here I was worried you wouldn’t show up.” The vampire wore a confident smirk as she emerged from the forest. Wanda casually leaned back against a tree. Before she spoke, she decided to let her eyes roam over your body. Her view had been limited to what little she could see from a distance or behind trees. To be so close with so little blocking her view — it was a magical feeling to say the least. “You can come closer, I won’t bite.” Despite her promise of safety, she couldn’t help but make a show of dragging her tongue across her fangs.

You were sure she’d only done it to scare you a bit, but there was familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach that wasn’t fear. Despite your growing arousal, you inched forward until you were right in front of the gate. “I um,” you nervously cleared your throat before continuing, “I really liked your gifts. Especially the poems, they were really cute.” You struggled to focus on your words as Wanda walked closer towards you. The more you looked, the more out of control your thoughts became. You found yourself particularly interested in her fingers. Memories of that damned polaroid flooded your mind all over again. You couldn’t tell it from the picture, but now it was clear that Wanda took great care of her hands. The skin looked silk smooth and her nails had been painted a matte black. Your favorite part was certainly the complicated rings that decorated each of her fingers.

Wanda stared down at you fondly. She leaned down slightly so you two were face to face. “You won’t find it mentioned in many places, but vampires can read minds.” She couldn’t help but laugh when you jumped back in shock. “Awe, don’t be ashamed, I wouldn’t have sent it if I didn’t want you to think about it.” She hadn’t planned on being so cruel to you, but you were adorable. It was a treat for her. For months she watched all the other girls in the city fawn over you and get whatever reaction from you they could. It was only fair she got a chance to as well.

You turned your head away from the woman in front of you in an attempt to get your thoughts in order. You’d subconsciously taken a few steps back. “Can we just talk?” The fact you’d never actually gone on a date had hit like a ton of bricks. “I mean, you’re really pretty and I want this to go somewhere, but I just don’t know what to do.” You flashed Wanda a nervous smile as your arms swung to the side nervously. “I mean, if that’s boring we could do something else– or you could leave if you want!”

Wanda chuckled softly as she sat down on the ground. “You don’t have to be so nervous, I’ll be here until the sun rises.”

The two of you had talked for hours. Wanda offered undocumented information about the world of vampires and you repaid her with any information about your latest interests. Though you insisted you had more interesting things to talk about, it seemed to be the only thing Wanda wanted to hear about. It didn’t make sense why she cared so much about the shows you watched or the style of the clothes you wore, but you were excited to have someone listen to you. Unfortunately, your conversation was cut short by the sound of an alarm.

You instinctively reached for your phone, only to realize it was Wanda��s. “I didn’t think vampires used phones.”

Wanda giggled at your innocence as she sat up. “The older ones tend to stray away from it, but it comes in handy from time to time.” She stretched her arms over her head and stood up slowly. “As much as I would love to hear about your little misadventures, I must get back home before I burn to death.” There was a comfortable silence between you two. For a moment, Wanda just looked at you. Your hair got a little messed up from laying on the ground and it seemed you were fighting a losing battle with sleep. After what deserved to be an eternity, she signaled for you to put your hands through the bar of the gate. She held the back of your hand and nuzzled her nose into your wrist. Wanda took a deep breath and let your scent fill her nose. “I had a really nice night, I hope we can do this again…same time this weekend?”

The way Wanda looked at you made your heart stop. Her eyes were half lidded, but not like the way they were in that polaroid. They seemed more relaxed. There was something in them that just made you feel so safe. “Yeah, same time this weekend.” You were giddy with laughter when Wanda softly kissed your wrist.

“Just get home safe for me, doll.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

There weren’t words big enough to describe the way Wanda made you feel. Everything seemed to just fall into place when you were with her. She was irresistible. What was originally just a late night visit on the weekend turned into an every other day thing. If you had it your way, it’d be every day, but Wanda insisted you make up for the sleep you would end up missing the night before. To make up for the insufferable time apart, Wanda had given you her phone number. You found yourself calling and texting her as much as you could for just about any reason you could think of.

It had been a few months into your little arrangement when Wanda suggested you spend a few days over her house. Though you were a little nervous, you accepted the invitation. You had only left the city a few times in your life and you had no clue what lay deep in the forest, no human did. However, you refused to let fear and uncertainty get in the way of your love life. Your brain hardly had any room for fear when you were so caught up in what would happen once you got to Wanda’s house. Cuddling, sharing food, or just being in the same room together. The thought alone made your stomach flutter.

After one awkward climb and a car ride filled with questions, you had your wishes granted.

You were in Wanda’s house. It was a lot bigger than you’d imagined, but it still had that red homey feel you grew to expect from Wanda. The bed in the center was made perfect and decorated with expensive looking red pillows and cozy quilts. You noticed the litany of products sat out on top of the vanity with a tiny red stool in front. There was even a walk-in closet.

"Is this all for me?"

Wanda smiled at the excitement in your voice. "Of course, unless you prefer to sleep in my room." She watched as you looked back between her and the bedroom before you. "I'm kidding, doll, you don't have to choose!" Her arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you in. She attacked your face with kisses. Your mere presence made her house feel infinitely more homey. The thought of you leaving was too much to bear. "Let's get you washed up and ready for dinner, yeah?"

"Oh yeah!" You bent down to tie your shoes only for Wanda to stand you upright. You let your body be guided to the armchair next to your new bed. "Is something wrong?" Despite your worries, you sat down. Maybe there was some weird vampire guest ritual you didn’t know about.

“Pretty dolls like you need help getting dressed, don’t they?” Wanda asked as if she was going to wait for your approval before she began stripping you, but she simply didn’t. You had barely processed what she had asked you by time she had undone the buttons of your shirt and had you completely naked from the waist up. Your arms moved to cover your chest, but Wanda was quick to pin them to the bed. “It’s just you and me, sweet bear, there’s no need to be nervous.” She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before she dropped to her knees in front of you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you watched Wanda. To say you were flustered was an understatement. There was no clear indication of what Wanda was planning. Was she trying to tease you or was this just her way of saying she loved you? Your eyes remained glued to the woman between your thighs as she carefully untied and removed your shoes. It was a strangely intimate interaction. Even if your brain had gone off the rails and into the deepest pits of lust. To have someone take care of you at such a high level made you feel safe. You were out in the middle of nowhere and Wanda could do anything she wanted to you, but she chose to take care of you instead. “I really like this, thank you,” You whispered softly.

“I can tell. Your thoughts get very loud when you’re needy.” Wanda’s hand drifted down to the space between your thighs. She cupped your pussy, letting out a soft groan at how wet you were. "Dinner can wait a bit, yeah?" She bit her lip as her hand slipped past the waistband of your underwear. Eventually, she would stop asking and just take you, but for now she'd at least let you think you could say no. "Oh, you're so wet for me. This is all for me, yeah," She moaned out as her fingers teased your slit.

You nodded in agreement. As much as you trusted Wanda, you couldn't help but be nervous. You were a virgin to the highest degree. A few kisses at the end of dates, but nothing beyond that. Hell, you couldn't even finger yourself properly. You were well aware that you should've told Wanda that, but you didn't want her to hold back. "You can do whatever, I can take it." If you weren't embarrassed by the way your voice cracked and completely gave out on your lie — you certainly were when Wanda laughed at you.

"Oh, sweet thing," Wanda cooed as she peppered kisses up your inner thing, "you're a really bad liar." She stuck out her tongue and slowly licked from your clit all the way up to your navel. Then she kissed down the spit trail she left. Her nose nuzzled into your stomach as she slowly inhaled your scent. "I can smell it." She closed her eyes as if she was thinking. "After I take you, we'll be connected forever." Wanda dragged her tongue up your slit and wrapped it around the throbbing bud at the top.

You shiver at the sudden stimulation. Wanda's tongue proved to be a wonder on its own. Your body twitched and jolted at every movement. The overwhelming wetness leaking out between your legs embarrassed you. A familiar burning began to grow in your stomach. "No, it's too much," You whimpered. You were grateful Wanda was kind enough to lift her head when you pushed her away. When you locked eyes with Wanda everything felt okay. "I- we can keep going, just not like that."

Wanda nodded slowly as she rubbed your thigh. "Let's just do one finger for now, yeah?" She climbed on to the bed and laid back on the pillows. A smile spread across her face when you sat between her legs without her saying a word. "Keep being sweet like that and I might not be able to control myself," She chuckled before placing a firm kiss on your shoulder. Wanda dragged her finger up to your lips and pressed against them. "Get it nice and wet for me, I don't want it to hurt."

Your lips parted slightly, allowing two of Wanda's fingers to slip in with ease. It's a strange feeling. You're barely allowed to suck or move your tongue. You gagged whenever Wanda would thrust her fingers into your mouth. The way Wanda used your mouth was undeniably erotic. Feeling her fingers graze over teeth sent another jolt up your spine. Sitting still became impossible. Your lungs felt as if they were going to explode. You couldn't breathe, but you were more aroused than you'd ever been.

Wanda pulled her fingers out of your mouth and used her free hand to tilt your head up so you were looking at the mirror. "You're such a messy thing," She whispered in your ear as her fingers slipped down between your thighs. Her finger sunk into you with ease. "You're so needy, I can't imagine how you handled yourself before me." She pumped her fingers inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust.

You moaned softly at the new found stimulation. The length of Wanda's fingers quickly proved to be more than just aesthetically pleasing. You were already wet before, but Wanda had you forming puddles in mere seconds. "Wanda, please," You squeaked out. You had no clue what you're begging for, but you trusted Wanda would be kind enough to give you whatever you needed.

"Awe, sweet doll, I don't think you can handle much more than this," She teased. Wanda slipped her second finger inside of your pussy. It was near impossible to move with the way you clenched around her fingers. "You sound so good, don't hold back, doll." Her eyes were focused on the mirror in front of her. It was dangerous to have a silver mirror in the house, but if it meant a clear view of your body like this — it was worth the risk. "Look at my perfect doll, you're too cute."

You looked up at the mirror just for a second. Initially, you were shocked by the lack of Wanda's reflection. The shock was immediately taken over by another wave of unfiltered arousal. There you were. Completely naked, sweaty, and being stretched out by seemingly nothing. It was more than enough to send you over the edge. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't hold it!"

Wanda leaned forward as you hunched over. "Shh, it's okay. I got you. Just let it happen." She continued pumping her fingers inside of you so you could ride out your orgasm as long as you could. "There we go, just breathe…nice and slow for me." Wanda pulled her fingers out of you using her clean hand to rub your back. "You did so good for me, now let's get you cleaned up."

You hadn't even caught your breath, but part of you craved for more. Maybe it was the giddiness of losing your virginity or maybe it was the fact you could suddenly hear all the dirty thoughts going through Wanda's head. One orgasm certainly wasn't enough, but you knew better to ignore any warnings Wanda had given you. "Okay, but you're gonna have to carry me."

"And I'd be more than happy to."

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[akwardpikachu]

[Cheater! Kaminari x Male Reader]

[Sero x Male Reader]

Info:

(H/c)=Hair Color

(E/c)=Eye Color

(S/c)=Skin Color

(M/n)=Male name

(F/c)=Favorite color

(2/f/c)=2nd Favorite color

(H/s)=Hair Style

(N/n)=Nickname

Your Quirk:

Catastrophe; You can break things. About: You can destroy anything you touch. Sometimes you can break things if you are thinking about touching it while you touch it. You cannot fix what you break. You cannot get hurt by falling objects.

(M/n)'s POV

  Walking in on my boyfriend mid fucking someone else was not on my to do list, especially on our anniversary. "What the actual FUCK, Denki?!" I yelled, dropping the flowers I was holding. The blonde scrambled to cover him and (Random/Name), I could see the shock in his eyes as he saw me slowly back away with tears in my eyes. Though after that everything went blank, like something in my mind snapped. I heard crashing, screaming, and then someone calling my name.

  'How could he...?' I thought, slowly coming back to my senses and seeing everything drop onto the floor with a crash and things being destroyed. I saw the two on the bed shaking in fear, but I only shook my head and ran out the apartment, not wanting to see either any longer. I decided to call the one person who could help me calm down...

  Ring...

    Ring...

      Ring...

  "Hello..?" The voice on the other end answered, gruff and scratchy. 'I probably woke him up..' I thought, wiping my eyes and sniffling. "Sero..." I croaked out, suddenly hearing sheets rustling quickly and what sounded like him running. "Where are you." He said, knowing something was clearly wrong. "Outside his apartment, he cheated on me.. H-how could he do that..?" I mumbled while more tears slipped, I numbly started at the ground. "He fucking promised..." he growled, confusing me slightly but I didn't say anything. "I'll be there in a few, mi amor. Just wait for me." The only response he got was a soft hum.

 

(Time Skip to a few minutes later)

Third POV:

  (M/n) was slumped down on a bench, his head in his hands as his body shook. Soft sobs raked through his body as he remembered every moment he felt the signs, the signals that Denki was cheating or not showing interest anymore. He felt the presence of someone causing him to look up with his red puffy eyes. Sero stares down at him with slight sorrow, crouching down in front of the other while gently grabbing his hands. "Hey, how about we get out of this cold, hm?" He said, giving him a sad smile, helping the other up only for (M/n) to fall into his chest. "(M/n)?!" He panicked, he checked to see him only to be unconscious.

  'Kami what have you done to him..?' The ravenette thought, picking the other up bridal style. He started the journey back to his apartment, looking down to check on the other male every now and then.

  Sero felt flashbacks to when you two were back in school, back when he began to fall in love with you..

Remember that time I made you laugh

I would give in to hear that sound again

Missing the lines on both sides of your face

And I hate that that's all I have now

  He remembered the lovesick look in Denki's and your eyes when you two became friends, and he knew he had to shove his own feelings down.

Am I just fixing it just to break it?

Am I just hanging on, just so we can drown?

Like the love we thought we found, no

We're hoping that we don't just hit the ground

  He knew that whatever he had tried back then wouldn't stop the blind love you felt for the energetic blonde...

I've been pulling you close, but pushing me further

I've been holding it back, that I see you different

Sick of me reminding you to love me like you

say you do

 

  Sero felt his own tears begin to brim his eyes as he thought back to all the times he saw you two doing couple things in the dorms.

And I've been hurting myself to keep you from leaving

I've been wondering whether we'll last the season

Wish we could've made this work

But now I know that I need more

  He looked down at you, kissing the top of your head as he slowed down to fully get a look at you. When had you started to look so tired..?

I need more

I need more

I need more

Afraid that I'll lose you in the crowd

I wish that I was a priority

Then you walked out on me with a straight look on your face

And said you've had enough

  He thought back to your first fight with Denki, how you went straight to him crying and ranting about how he was flirting with others right in front of you.

But then you came back in to try to fix it

But never helping me when I start to drown

Like the love we thought we found

Is it worth the pain if I should stick around?

  He remembered when he lied to you for the last time, saying that you two couldn't hang out cause he had a date with someone. Seeing how hurt you were cause you had another fight with Denki...

And I've been pulling you close, but pushing me further

I've been holding it back, that I see you different

Sick of me reminding you to love me like you say you do, oh

  After that day, the day he lied to you, he vowed never to do it again. He told Denki the day after that he'd fallen in love with you and made him promise to never hurt you again.

And I've been hurting myself to keep you from leaving

I've been wondering whether we'll last the season

Wish we could've made this work

But now I know that I need more

  He regrets never telling you how he felt, but after everything... After all these years, he knew that'd he'd stop hurting and so would you after everything, they'd stop talking to Denki, start over, and move on.

And I need more

And I need more

And I need more

And I need more, I need more...

——————

Hey guys! I'm back! Sorry for being away for so long, but here's a little bit of angst, sorry if it's also not the best of my work. It's a bit rushed and I had a small work of inspiration! Anyways, hope you enjoyed and feel free to let me know what you thought in the comments.

Have an amazing day/night/morning/evening and please stay safe out there!

[caramelcuniculus]

Capable indeed… Simon must've known that their skills didn't help them with hunting for food. Vampires they also fought on occasion. Even other humans, either those who had gone fully insane or wished to take their wares by taking their life. Some of the instances they felt bad about, especially with how they allowed themself to become so vulnerable with one of a kind they'd stab within the heart and not look back. The antiquarian would understand, wouldn't he? He said it himself: they could definitely be vicious. Desmond was of the rare type to be both bark and bite. And yet, that didn't scare the vampire, not one bit. He knew them better not to hurt him, and he'd be right. Not after this, not after his kindness and his warmth and his--

Vicious, just like she was swallowing the carrot slices almost whole. Despite being human, the archaeologist was her own sort of beast. Normally she would've forced herself to stop moving about and hunt herself dinner, so being treated like this was out of left field. Having good produce at all was a rarity. But these carrots were just so rich and delectable. They were going to hold Desmond off until the stew was finished, which had to be at some point. When she snuggled into Simon's side, she silently worried about how he'd feel in seeing her nearly destroy the food soon to be placed in front of her. Heaven, he says? He's right. Whenever has Simon been wrong? "I can't wait to see what heaven tastes like."

Red eyes widened with Simon starting to get up, his words jumbling through his mind. Stew, the stew was almost here! Desmond's head perked up, but then she let out the quietest of whimpers with his warning of the warmth. He could care less if it were molten lava he was putting in his mouth; the hunger itself felt like it was becoming dangerous. Still, with whatever this was, he would try to play along. "Nonsense. It'll be my gums and tongue that'd be burned. Unless if you're considering those pretty too." The archaeologist gave the antiquarian a smug grin.

The need for teasing came to an immediate halt once the vampire stumbled off the sofa. They couldn't help themself; a slight giggle escaped them. A hand quickly pressed against their mouth to try and hide their smile. Good old silly, stumbling Simon Petrikov. At least he wasn't hurt. It would be no laughing matter if that were the case. Yet he picked himself up and was getting around their stew right before their eyes. Out of instinct, Desmond licked their lips. Heaven.

A few seconds passed once Simon sat the stew in front of her. All she was doing was staring at it. To the antiquarian, it could give the impression that the food has left her in a daze. In all actuality, she was watching for the steam to go down. Once it had, even only slightly, Desmond silently took the spoon and soup off the table… and began going to down with it. The vampire told her to be careful, but this, this… this was about the best thing she'd ever had. Desmond was quick with her feeding, but she was slow enough to not make herself sick. She couldn't even look at Simon right now; she'd fully engrossed herself in the taste of stew. The whole thing was gone before both of them knew it.

"… Ah." Desmond looked surprised and dumbfounded to see the pot no longer having anything else left to eat from it. Did he really eat all that? Who was he kidding, of course he did. The archaeologist even hiccuped, shooting his red eyes open. When his body settled and he'd returned both the spoon and the pot on the table, Desmond turned to face Simon and… stared at him. His eyes gazed deep into his own, almost trying to see his soul. Although his expression was flat, he didn't seem angry. Not one bit. "Simon," he started, moving his hands down to take both of the antiquarian's into his own. "I'm at a loss of words. That was the absolute finest meal on this entire earth. No one can and never will top your skills in cooking. I swear, that stew has left me starstruck."

This apartment, this stew that's left them completely full, this Simon. Who gives a damn. "You've left me starstruck. Please don't ever stop surprising me. Not with cooking, not with anything."

Desmond pulled their hands away, looking bashful once they realized what they'd said. Now where did that come from… "Anyway, I'm more full than I have ever been. This sort of additional nutrience should give you the finest blood in the land. It's time for me to fulfill my end of our little deal."

Both their hands raised to the top button of her shirt, only to stop before she could get the first one loose. "… Or is there a special way to go about this? You're the expert here, not I, doctor."

"I know you wouldn't. It probably helps that this loving vampire here is my nearest and dearest friend, eh?" Desmond tried to play coy again, a bit of a smirk there, but her gaze looked down upon the vampire's finger gently poking into her chest. Her shoulders also readjusted themselves into the fixed blanket, one the two of them now shared. It was peaceful, all of this. It really was surprising that they were able to fall back into things like this so quickly. This just went to prove that no matter what, some bonds simply never died. Even when the world did around them, connections stayed. It was a beautiful thing, and the archaeologist hoped the antiquarian acknowledged it as much as she did.

It appeared he did, as Simon slowly moved to his side. This was full-on cuddling if he'd ever seen it, with the vampire even moving his hand down to better support him on his shoulder. Desmond tried to recall the last time he'd been this close with someone else, determining that he couldn't pick any examples prior to the war. Ever since then, he'd been entirely alone. The archaeologist managed to get used to it as best as he could, but there was something that'd always stick with you about your family being ripped away from you because of things out of your control. It was devastating, but he couldn't do much now but keep surviving with what little he had. Right now, he had more than he ever did prior, and he even had another warm presence beside him. There was one absent on his other side, but maybe, just maybe, something else could fill in that void. In his own, twisted mind, he could have them all.

Desmond didn't protest to the antiquarian cuddling up fully like a cat. They didn't move much, either. All they'd done was silently take more sips out from their drink, resting their eyes as they felt the liquid go down their throat. Warm and comfortable and safe… They'd give their thanks again, but they feel they'd exhaust it the more they went on and on about Simon's hospitality. Not that it made it any less true, but maybe their slight snuggling spoke louder than words. Both of their, well, everything, spoke louder than words.

Red eyes opened themselves again when the vampire cozily yawned. What a pretty noise. Her head turned back to gaze into his eyes gently. "You're alright," she softly spoke, chuckling a bit. "There's a certain charm to being serene enough to almost fall asleep on me. I can't help but say I'm rather honored." Desmond began to wonder if Simon found himself under the same circumstances; the loss of both loves. She wasn't going to ask, as the lack of her mention answered the question before he ever could. Thoughts began to simmer in her head; was this right? Or were they two lonely, foolish friends who had no damns left to give in a world that took away everything but put them back together? Desmond nuzzled slow and carefully into Simon's head.

"I feel almost perfect here with you, but outside of this apartment, I've been… okay." He didn't even believe the vampires had it out the best in this world either. Simon's previous traders must've looked similar to himself: worn and ragged. Still, saying everything was okay was better than not. "I've developed a knack of hunting as of late. Game is my main source of food, alongside elevated vegetables I'll find elsewhere. Alongside hunting, I've been living a nomadic lifestyle. If you hadn't found me when you did, our paths may have never crossed again. I'm not one to return to the same place twice."

Their body relaxed into Simon's embrace. Their red eyes seemed… dreamy? No damns left to give. "I've never felt so safe in my entire life. That must be hard to believe, but right now, when you need some sort of security most, right here, I've been the most protected." Desmond let out a warm sigh. "You tempt me, Simon Petrikov. You almost make me want to never leave."

A pain-infused noise expelled from her stomach, making her wince. "I'm- I'm sorry." The archaeologist quickly moved away from Simon so that she could put her water down and grab the remaining carrot slices. She stared at them for a few seconds before tipping the plate above her mouth, having all pieces drop into her mouth. A swallow, and the plate was set back on the table. She turned back to Simon's side right after, practically sinking into his embrace. Desmond didn't look at him, but kept herself huddled into his side.

[paipayaseeds]

Kaito may have been a documented idiot, with a good heart might I add, though he'd have good intentions in mind whenever a fruitless and rash act was made by the man who lacked a few parts of his cranium,

It shouldn't have come to a fucking shock to anyone that this fucker didn't read a LICK of the student hand book. Probably hadn't even bothered to skim through the darn thing just a bit. Now here they were, dumbfounded and annoyed at the man's decision.

Of course, Kaede didn't show her frustration.

"Well, then Anya is safe and.. Kaito just was taking.. Precautions-"

"Just say he was being dumb,kid." Ryoma interrupted, the man not having been afraid to state the obvious.

".. Okay he didn't do the smartest thing but! It's fine! I'm sure Kirumi and Tenko are handling this. How about we all just move to the dining hall for now?"

"I suppose that'd be the best decision until that love sick astronaut comes to his senses."The long haired boy agreed(?),a slightly bothered tone resonating between his words. This day had been both stressful, confusing.. And beautiful of course. A human denying death and battling the lingering effects wasn't something the Anthropologist got to witness daily, but today it came at the cost of his patience and energy.

Well, his patience just fine. Energy was of short abundance.

"I agree without our history fanatic! I and the spirits wish to rest after this long day! In fact, I'll meet you all there!Bye-onara!"

And as quick as her sentence was spoken, The silver haired artist left before Kaede could tell her no. She didn't NOT like Angie but.. She was rather insistent.

"Shouldn't we go get Koki-"

"Nope. There's enough headaches in this room already, don't need another!Whatever or wherever that grape flavored condom went to isn't my concern. "

"Hmph. Funny, coming from you, Miu."Ryoma decided to retort, the inventor glaring at him before flipping him off and follow behind Angie.

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

The arguing between the two wasn't really good for Anya's senses.. Like,

At all.

While Tenko had been right about Anya not belonging to anyone, the way Tenko and Kaito had been arguing kinda went against quoted statement. They'd been fighting like 2 siblings battle royaling for a teddy bear. It was humiliating and most importantly,

Annoying and headache inducing.

Anya was a coward yes but, if the ringing in their head didn't stop soon, they'd been sure about to retract back to becoming a corpse again, missed or not. When she'd been 'asleep' there was no yelling.. Sleep.

She really wanted to sleep but.. She needed to be tended too.. But,

'I'll..ill just take a nap. Yeah.

Just a... Little..

Tiny..

Nap. '

Breathing softly, Anya went noticeably limp in the astronaut's arm, her snores soft and blocked out from the Akido master's and Astronauts childish war.

"Hmmmnnn... Bunny.. Taro."

Shuichi watched in slight admiration as Kaede seemed to hold a lot of patience, even for idiots like Kaito. Shuichi wasn't one to judge others, either for their intelligence or otherwise but; it was clear Kaito hadn't been the sharpest tool in the shed.

Something uneased the already uneasy detective the moment everyone seemed to dismiss the purple-haired boy. Kokichi often tormented everyone with his honest lies and false truths, causing everyone to distrust the short boy. A part of Shuichi considered the possibility of Kokichi being the culprit, but... Was it really something he'd do? The identity of the culprit remained a secret, and that simply just didn't sit right with him.

Shuichi had yet to discuss what this meant for the killing game; Anya... surviving. Even that still contained millions of questions with no answers to; thanks to Kaito kidnapping the small girl. He hoped, despite not enjoying Monokuma's company, that the stuffed bear would at least clear up some things.

Maybe he should've just enjoyed the peace at that moment, but something in his gut wouldn't let him, and he despised it.

"Kaede." Shuichi tried catching her attention before they made their way to the dining hall too. "Don't you think it's weird that... Anya survived? I mean, the Monokuma file said she was... But I guess it's not all that reliable, huh."

He continued, "But she lost a lot of blood, and the ice, not only that but w-" Shuichi bit his tongue, realizing he may sound strange for not celebrating Anya's revival like the others. "I don't know... I may be reading too much into this." He nervously laughed, keeping all of his noisy thoughts internal.

----

“She’s dead!” Tenko paled as she suddenly caught the green-haired girl going limp in Kaito’s arms. “Oh my god! You killed her! Again!” Tenko nearly tripped over her feet as she began screaming. 

“Relax! She’s not dead, she’s just-” Kaito looked down. “Ohmygodshe’sdead!” A blood-curdling scream escaped his throat.

“You idiot! How could you!?” Tenko shouted in terror, pointing an accusing finger at Kaito.

Neither of them had thought to check her breathing; perhaps idiocy was a contagious disease.

She couldn't help but let her eyes analyze his stance, wondering what attack should be used to safely switch who had been carrying Anya; because it was quite obvious Kaito wasn't a very good suitor.

Not like Tenko was any better.

Kaito swallowed and pushed down his incoming panic attack, legs suddenly going faster in urgency, startling Tenko as he finally made his way to the dormitories. Tenko watched in panic as Kaito looked to be ready to slam through the fucking door,

so before he could get millions of glass shards all over Anya, Tenko hurriedly opened and held the door for him. Despite alarms going off in her head for serving a male — even something as simple as opening the door for him —, multiple other alarms rang out in her head too, and successfully drowned the first one out.

Tenko slapped Kaito on the arm as he raised his foot in front of Anya's dorm.

"Damn it Kaito, don't break a woman's dorm door down! That's private! Give her to me!" Tenko refused to allow this man in Anya's room, somehow dismissing the fact that Rantaro slept in Anya's room as routine.

"Why!?" Kaito countered, a muddled and slightly disgruntled expression contorting onto his face.

Tenko opened her mouth, a smug look on her face as she began listing things in her head, counting fingers.

"Okay- no, just- Fine!" Kaito begrudgingly handed her over.

"She can stay in my room!" Tenko said a little too chipper.

"Tenko, you little- Give her back!" It was ridiculous. One second they were screaming in terror about how Anya was fucking dead, and now they were tossing her back and forth like a bag of potatoes.

How respectful :)

[wolferals]

audition

Arón Piper imagine

*

saturday, january 18th 11:22pm • Today was Monday, August 22nd and all I've seen since 8am were wannabe actors reading their stupid lines to us pretending they were fucking Johnny Depp himself. God I was so sick of it, but since I've been grounded my dad made me cast people for this movie he was going to direct. Why were you grounded, you may ask. Well let's say, we just moved to Madrid basically to the end of the world since I grew up in America all my life. Yeah, my first days of school didnt really turn out to be super great, my english teacher was super racist in my opinion. She kept making „jokes" about my country/ and at some point i just snapped and told her how she dared to be so fucking racist. My class agreed with me yet my teacher didnt and put me in detention first and then called my dad. So yeah, thats why he's making me do this.

Some might think, its not a punishment to cast people for a „super cool movie" but have u ever been in a all white room for 10 hours listening to the same sentences over and over, being read by the worst people ever? No, exactly.

Its been exactly 4 hours now, its been around 12 when we decided to take a short break to get some food. I walked around the building for a while, grabbed a iced coffee at the bar and then sat down on a couch in the foyer to immediately text my friends from back home about how horrible i was feeling.

I didnt even get to text 5 words until my dad came around the corner saying something like:"Y/n, lets go. The people wont cast themselves. I mean they'd love to but that's our job." He then laughed loudly and almost couldnt stop. One thing about my dad: He thinks he's hilarious but in my opinion he's a little too full of himself. No offense, i love him of course.

Therefore I walked back to the cruel looking white room and sat down on my chair sipping my iced coffee. „Alright, next up, we have a Joshua Hamilton reading for the part of Jamey." I rolled my eyes. Yet again another Jamey. Ive heard the line:"No way Daniel, are you insane?! Have you even thought about the fact that you could get fucking killed?" about 50 times today.

And to be honest, the only person i'd like to get killed right now would be myself.

„Hello, my name is Joshua Hamilton, I'm 22 years old and I'll be reading for the part of Jamey." The tall, skinny looking guy then spoke after *extremely happy looking* entered the room. Well no offense but super happy people make me puke.

He then read his lines, horribly. He was just too enthusiastic and grinning through the entire thing. It was supposed to be a mad Jamey yelling at his brother who was about to attack his ex girlfriend's killer.

Dad then told him, they will call him. But lets be honest here, obviously they wont. • Alright so another 4 hours passed and we had almost all important characters casted, except Jamey. The crew was getting impatient and we were all super tired. „Dad how many are left?" I then asked because I wanted nothing more than this to end. „26." he answered, sounding annoyed. So was I. „Jeez, for fucks sake." I exclaimed and leaned back in my chair. „Y/n, watch your language!" He scoffed and took a sip of his water before leaning back as well.

„Okay next off we have a Arón Piper. He is Spanish-German, which wouldnt quite match with the way we pictured Jamey. But lets get the guy, kay?" Evan, the producer spoke after reading some reviews.

„Mhm." my Dad hummed. He seemed extremely tired and messed up to be fair.

As I said, I was annoyed and super damn hungry but the second this guy walked in, all my senses were on and I couldnt help but stare at him. He was tall, had curly hair, an earring on his left ear, chocolate brown eyes and a smile that could kill. „Hola,, I'm Arón." My dad seemed to like him too because he sat up straight scanning him up and down. „How old are you Arón?" Lucy, the executive producer asked him, smiling as well. „I'm 23." The handsome guy answered calm and sent me his billion dollar smile.

fuck • I smiled back and for whatever fucking reason I just said:"You must be working out, am I right?" Everyone looked at me but I didnt care, I just looked him right in the eyes and saw him laugh. „Y/n what the hell?" My dad whispered sounding pissed yet confused. „Jamey is a fit dude, he goes to the gym 6 times a week. We have to consider the fact that the actor has to be healthy and all as well." I tried to get out of the weird situation but actually I was just wishing for him to take off his shirt to show us -okay, me- his amazing abs I bet he had. „Uhm to be honest, I just dance, thats it. But you could call that a work out since Ive been doing it since I was 7 years old."

The others seemed impressed too, so Lucy cockily said:"So if acting wouldnt work, youd become a professional dancer?" Arón laughed again and answered:"Yeah, probably. But i havent even read my lines yet."

The entire time he was acting his lines, I was just staring at his god like face, every emotion, every move, every little change in his body language was perfect. My dad looked like he was impressed too and he then, after Arón had finished, spoke:"Thank you, Arón. That was amazing!" He smiled happily and answered fully paying attention:"Oh gracias, it means so much coming from you!" He walked up to my dad to shake his hand and then took back his portfolio. „Honey what do you think? Should we put him in round 2?" I looked over to my dad, took a glance at Arón who was smiling cutely at me. „Nah."

Everyone gave me a confused look and in Arón´s eyes I could see pure fear.

„I think we should give him the part.“

My dad smiled, nodded at me and then spoke:“Alright, Arón Piper, congratulations.“

Arón walked over to me and stuck his hand out for me to shake it. I slowly took his hand and, okay that might sound weird, but it felt so damn good to touch him. God I sound like a creep. No but for real his hand was a lot bigger than mine and really warm compared to my -always cold- claws. „Gracias." he said quietly and stared directly into my eyes while smiling. I wanted to say something like:"Of course, you deserve it, you were amazing." but i just couldnt, i wasnt able to look anywhere but into his beautiful brown eyes.

My dad saw that and cleared his throat loudly. „Thank you again Arón, we will call you next week for further information. But for now, since Jamey is the main male protagonist and we will be filming most of the scenes with you, we'd like to invite you and the other main actors to a dinner party tomorrow night. We hope you're free and we would text you further dates later on today."

-„Yes I'm free, that'd be amazing! Thank you so much! See you tomorrow then, bye guys." He grabbed his jacket from off the floor and left the room smiling brightly.

-„We've got it! We found, first of all the perfect Jamey, and we finally have all the actors, people!" Lucy shouted and sighed relieved. „Alright then, lets celebrate!" My dad exclaimed happily and the others stood up after him. „I'll be right out, I'll go to the bathroom real quick." I informed the guys and just simply hit the bathroom next to the audition room. When i checked back to see if the room had been locked, I noticed that a portfolio book was left on the table. I grabbed it, opened it and and noticed it was Arón's.

Right, he grabbed it before, then shook our hands and put it down again. Then he walked out without it.

So I quickly locked the door and ran through the building, past my dad saying:"Be right back." I figured, Arón couldnt have gotten very far, so I sprinted down the stairs, out of the front door of the building and i looked around if I might spot him. I then saw a guy that looked like him walking down the street towards a silver car and i ran as fast as i could to reach him.

„Arón!" I yelled and stopped once I finally reached him. „Yeah?" he was about to get in the car but turned around. „You forgot that." I passed him his book and tried to catch my breath real quick. „Oh god, thank you! I totally forgot about that. Gracias." He took it smiling.

While I was trying to breath, he opened the car door and said:"Just a second." Me, still dying from all the running, I was now leaning against a wall. „You okay?" -„Huh? Yeah. Im.. good." I was kind of embarrassed at how unathletic i was. „U sure?" he came closer and looked actually quite concerned. „Ya dont worry. Uhm.. See you.. tomorrow..at the.. party?" i tried to play it off and stood straight again Arón smiled again and answered:"Of course. Cant wait!" He then walked back to the car and sent me another smile before getting in.

Damn, this guy.

[hotsummersimpingogacc]

te amo - reddie one shot

summary: richie and eddie start taking spanish classes together and richie sees this as an opportunity to confess his love to eddie.

word count: 1699 words

an: this is my first ever ship oneshot. but i honestly am proud of this. and also please excuse any mistakes in the spanish part, even though i do take spanish i am not that good to write such a paragraph without translator.

richie and eddie are around finn's and jack's age in this fic ❤

* - translated text at the end of the fic

* gif not mine *

for years richie had feelings for eddie. the jokes about his mom he always made, they were just defense mechanism. he was scared of his feelings, he was scared of being exposed or being judged by his friends. especially eddie, what if he revealed what he's really feeling and he'd just reject him. this fear was bigger than fear of pennywise himself. he was nothing compared to how frightened richie actually was.

everyday seeing the person he wants to be with the most. whenever eddie smiles richie is melting on the spot, when he's feeling down there's nothing more richie wants to do then hold him and tell him that everything is gonna be okay. sometimes when he sees eddie kissing his mom's cheek he wishes it was his cheek or even better his lips. he felt lonely whenever he was with other losers but when eddie was around it was like he was full again. richie tried to hide his feelings in front of his friends, it'd be weird if they found out the truth.

before the school year ended students had to choose their subjects for next year. and of course boys wanted ti have all classes tomorrow. they choosed them like that. but there was one richie had to beg other guys to take. richie asked them every single day if they'll take spanish with him. the answer was always the same, no. eddie started to feel really bad for richie since he looked like he really wanted to take the class, but not alone. so he decided to take it with him. after all richie needs someone to stop when he's making jokes. after eddie told him he's gonna take the class with him richie thanked him all the way home.

richie actually gained a little confidence after eddie informed him that he's gonna learn spanish with him. maybe he'll be able to tell him about his feelings since they're gonna be a few more hours a week together. maybe he'll finally realize if this is real or not. or maybe he'll swallow his feelings even deeper.

"hey, richie ready to head out?" eddie popped next to richie's locker all excited

"yeah, i'll just grab some things" richie grabbed his books

"so, are you excited?" eddie smiled at him

"little less then before fucking your mom but it's okay i guess" richie shrugged his shoulders

eddie rolled his eyes. he knew this was coming but he didn't expect it to happen before actual class.

"are you gonna do this the whole time? because if yes i'm gonna do anything to get out of that class" eddie explained with his hand near his right ear

"sorry, i just saw the opportunity" richie smirked

"you always see the opportunity, right?"

"you guessed it, señor" richie was pretty proud of his answer

x

first spanish lesson went pretty well. both richie and eddie enjoyed it. of course they had dive into studying right away. they met up at eddie's house after school.

sat down on eddie's bed and tried to learn lines they learned that day

"hola, me llamo richie and i fucked your mom!" richie burst out laughing

"can we at least study without this?"

richie sighed and looked at his textbook. of course he had to make that joke. eddie was so cute while trying pronounce words in spanish. it was so hard for richie to hold back and not kiss him. he was clenching his fist so he wouldn't stroke his cheek. fortunately eddie hadn't noticed anything. he hadn't noticed richie's looks at him, those genuine laughs, all that affection richie had for him. he never noticed and richie was so grateful for it.

there were days he wished eddie would notice. maybe show his love back. maybe kiss richie so richie wouldn't have to. maybe say those words richie was scared to jabber out. i love you, you mean a lot to me, that'd be enough for richie. he'd know that all those feelings he had for all those years weren't one-sided. these were things richie dreamed off when he was laying in his bed at night, trying to fall asleep without eddie on his mind.

x

months were passing and boys were picking up more and more new knowledge from spanish. basic lines and phrases weren't enough for them. they'd go to library in the afternoons and dig some new interesting words.

during these "diging" sessions richie got an idea. there's no way in hell eddie learned how to confess anything to someone in spanish. richie was so sure that this is the only way he can tell him how he really feels. and when eddie will realize what richie told him, he'd be far away from american borders.

richie spent even more time in library, borrowed some books home and started writing down his confession. it was easiest-hardest thing he ever done. putting those words on paper went so fast. he was so certain what he wants to tell him. but when it came to part he had to tell him, face to face his gut thightened and he felt like crying. his hands were sweating and shaking.

richie had the list in his backpack, carrying him everywhere he went. he was scared someone would find it and figure it out. this gave him more anxiety then eddie telling him no or making fun of him.

x

after two weeks of carrying the confession in his backpack, richie was ready to say it to eddie. he made sure they were alone in his house. he sat him down in his living room and sat opposite him. he never sweat this much. his whole body was shivering, covered in goosebumps. he was repeating to himself that this is the best time and there won't be any better time.

"is everything alright rich?" eddie, concerned, look richie straight into eyes

richie took a deep breath and started:

"eds, there's this thing, i've been meaning to tell you for such a long time. so here it is" he put his glasses back up on his nose, took another deep breath and began talking

*"eddie, te amo. He estado enamorado de ti desde que tengo memoria. y es dificil para mi Te veo todos los días, te escucho reír y me enamoro aún más de ti. cada vez que sonríes o te quejas de que algo es insalubre, trato de contenerme porque solo quiero besarte. cada vez que te sientas mal o enfermo solo quiero abrazarte y decirte que todo estará bien. Esto es lo más difícil que he hecho, pero es más fácil ya que te estoy diciendo esto en español y no tienes idea de lo que estoy diciendo. eds, eres mi amor y haría cualquier cosa por estar contigo" richie could feel tears in his eyes so he immidiately stood up and ran to bathroom

richie leaned against the sink and let the tears stream down his face. he knew eddie was sitting there all confused because has no idea what he just said and why he ran away. richie got it off his chest. he told eddie how he feels, how much he loves him. his list wasn't long but it sure was full of emotions and everything richie feeled.

"hey richie, are you okay?" eddie knocked on the door

"yeah, i just had to make sure my wang is longer than yours before we start messuring them" richie tried to hide his sobby voice

damn it richie, you don't have to hide behind your jokes anymore, you exposed yourself to him.

when richie stepped out of the bathroom he saw that eddie was searching his fanny pack in the hallway

"what you looking for there? your birth control pills?" richie chuckled

"no, but if you're sick or something and you went in there to shit or for god's sake even throw up i have to take my pills so i won't catch anything" richie sometimes wondered how is it possible for eddie to speak this fast

x

days passed since richie told eddie about his feelings. he felt releaved but also really anxious. eddie was totally looking for some words richie had told him. what if he was searching for words like te amo. what if he already cracked them and he's not gonna tell richie so he won't break his heart. richie was overthinking as always.

that day, eddie and richie went to study to eddie's house. they were sitting quietly on eddie's bed both of them reading text they had to read.

"richie?"

"hmm?"

"there's something i want to tell you" richie could feel how his heart skipped a beat

"go on, eds"

"umm, wait" eddie took out a small piece of paper from back of his textbook.

"okay so, yo también te quiero" eddie said with certain confidence

"what?"

"it means i love you too, amor" eddie blinked at richie

"you're fucking with me!" richie yelled out

"i wish i was" eddie chuckled

"wait, are you like serious serious, or did you tell other guys about what i said and they made you say this?"

"i haven't told anyone. richie, this comes from my heart. i really love you! when you said what you said i felt so releaved because i was happy to hear that i wasn't the only one feeling this way. richie i cracked your "i fucked your mom" a long time ago"

"you little fucker" richie smiled

* eddie, i love you. i've been in love with you ever since i can remember. and it's hard for me. i see you everyday, i hear you laugh and i fall in love with you even more. whenever you smile or complain about something being unsanitery i try to hold myself back because i just wanna kiss you. whenever you feel bad or sick i just wanna hold you and tell you it's gonna be okay. this is the hardest thing i ever done but it's easier since i'm telling you this in spanish and you have no idea what i'm saying. so eds, you're my love and i'd do anything to be with you

tagged

@royalydamned @diablvna @queen-irl-af

if you wanna be included please let me know ❤

[sadminhyukstan-blog]

She's Forbidden ; Minhyuk x Reader

genre : angst, maybe a little bit of fluff

warnings : swearing

prompt : "I know I can't, but I love her."

p.o.v : third person

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

She stood in front of her, the queen who had tortured her and tossed her out, the one and only Queen Lee. She didn't understand why. Why did the queen use her as a toy? She never knew, only the 'beautiful queen' did.

"Well then, ___, I see that you haven't partaken in being forbidden, now, have you?" Queen Lee asked snarkily, which made ___ growl in response.

"No, I have not, because I'm not taking part of this fucking torture game." She snarled. Queen Lee huffed to herself.

"I suggest you do, Miss ___. Cause if not, this so called game will have to go on." Queen Lee responded, giving about the most fake smile she had ever seen.

"Then let it go on without me, cause not yet will I leave, and not ever will I go down without a fight." And that's when Queen Lee called her guards with a small movement of her index finger.

The guards steps were loud, due to the heavy metal they wore. The steel almost covered their eyes, and their arms and legs were overlapped with confusing combinations of metal.

"What did the queen tell you? Game on." One of the guards said with a deep voice.

She let out a dry laugh, using the reason she got toyed against the guards. She threw them against the walls with her mind, knowing she'd win this fight with some wounds and bruises.

Their armor clanged boisterously against the stone walls of the throne room before the queen. Did Queen Lee really think that this was a challenge? It really wasn't.

The guards all groaned in sync, feeling like a dart board getting multiple darts thrown and stabbing them right in the center.

She heard steps but didn't pay attention, assuming that it was the cook preparing the table for lunch. she kept the squirming guards against the wall, stifling a laugh.

She heard the throne room door open and turned around, shocked at the sight of what she saw. She let the guards down with a rough thud.

She bit her lips to stop the tears that were about to spill from her eyes.

Prince Lee had came then, when she had turned the guards thrown spears around to stab the wall. He stood still, traumatized to see the girl he once knew was weak from his mother torturing her beating up his own guards.

His hands trembling, he yelled. He yelled at, not her, but his mother.

"Mother! Why would you turn against her? She's powerful, don't you see? Or are you blind, just like you were blind to Dad's severe sickness?" Prince Lee knew he had gone too far.

"Minhyuk, sweetie, don't speak of your father..." Queen Lee said softly. But he was still mad.

"Don't call me sweetie! I don't wanna be your 'sweetie' anymore! And I haven't for a long time!" He screamed, small and cold tears running down his face.

"Sweetie—" Queen Lee couldn't finish her sentence.

"What did I fucking say, Mom, don't you understand? Wait, you don't, otherwise you'd understand that you shouldn't turn your back on ___." Prince Lee growled.

"Minhyuk!" Queen Lee stood up quickly, walking towards him. She brung her hand up, close to slapping him. Notice how I said close. He would've been slapped if ___ didn't stand in front of him.

He looked at the slightly smaller female in shock, seeing the red hand print already forming on her cheek. She had grown since he last saw her, she was only a few centimeters shorter than him now.

"_-___..." He stuttered, turning her around and carefully touching the mark on her cheek. She whimpered in pain. He felt bad and glared at his mother with tears in his eyes.

~flashback~

Minhyuk giggled, holding her hand tightly as they ran through the woods. She had small leaves in her soft black hair since it was autumn.

___ smiled and looked behind her and stopped, holding his hand tighter. He turned around and giggled a bit, until he processed what she was looking at.

His mom was right before the two. He stopped laughing quickly, eyeing the small handcuffs with terror. He spaced out until he heard a small click. Twelve year old Minhyuk's grip was weak, and her hand had escaped from his.

He looked at a fearful and crying ___, who was getting dragged away by his mother towards the... dungeon? Why the dungeon? He was confused. And he knew he couldn't help.

That night he couldn't sleep at all, thinking of what his mother or anyone else was doing to ___. It was then he heard a scream and a few words after.

"No! Stop! Please..." And then... A thud.

~flashback over~

He looked like he was the one in pain, which could be true, because emotionally, he was. He looked at the female he once loved, who had gotten stripped away from him.

Queen Lee had an emotionless expression, like nothing had happened at all.

"Mother, I suggest you leave before both her and I hurt you." Minhyuk growled. But, Queen Lee being the bitch she is, stayed in place.

___ only nodded at him. they came up with the childish plan a long time ago.

~flashback~

"___-ah! What if we came across trouble!" Minhyuk had asked in the winter. ___ giggled at her own plan.

"Hm... I could hold them up against a wall, you could throw something at them repeatedly, and I could hold ice up against their body." She joked. But he obviously seemed interested in the plan.

They never came across trouble that day. So, all day they stayed outside. She would play with her powers, and Minhyuk would be amazed over and over again. They enjoyed it.

~flashback over~

With her telekinesis, ___ held Queen Lee up against the throne room wall. Prince Lee always carried a few pebbles with him for memories of ___, so he threw those now that she's back.

And now for Prince Lee's personal favorite part, which was changed. What actually happened was ___ trapped Queen Lee in an ice block.

Visibly, Queen Lee was screaming. He turned around and high-fived ___.

"So, Prince Lee, we meet again." ___ spoke quietly. He sighed, nodding a bit before responding.

"___, just call me Minhyuk." She smiled, her eyes scrunching up when she did.

~timeskip~

Since Minhyuk and ___ went into the woods, Queen Lee died of hypothermia. Did Minhyuk care? Sorta, she hurt ___, but she was his mother.

Minhyuk was talking to his friend, Prince Yoo, or Kihyun.

"Well, ___'s still forbidden for hurting your mother. Are you sure you can still feel what you use to?" Kihyun asked.

Minhyuk thought for a bit before responding to him.

"I know I can't, but I love her." He spoke. Kihyun shook his head, sighing.

"Listen, you can't anymore. It'll he hard, same thing happened to me with Jennie, but you're gonna have to get over it." Kihyun advised.

"Get some people for me. Hyunwoo, Wonho, Hyungwon, Jooheon, Changkyun, Maid Hwasa, Maid Moonbyul, Maid Wheein, Maid Solar, and ___. Them, you, and I are meeting in the ball room." Minhyuk said, standing up after Kihyun went.

~timeskip~

Minhyuk was already sitting down when the eleven people came in.

"Take a seat, we're gonna talk about something special." He said.

Everyone hesitated, but followed his command. He had no second-thoughts about it.

"Okay, so, as you all know, ___ is back. Queen Lee is dead." He continued when everyone was settled. He rapidly motioned for the maids to stay seated.

"I've chosen the ones I wouldn't be able to leave behind, so feel special."

Everyone except the maids, who were pitiful for Queen Lee, nodded.

"We're running away. All twelve of us, we're running away together. I need you all to pack bags and meet back here at 11 pm. So you have two hours."

___ felt uneasy.

"First of all, where would we go? Second of all, I have nothing I need here." She spoke.

"We'll be going to an empty castle, it's still in good shape." ___ remembered what he meant.

~flashback~

"___! Look!" Minhyuk said, pointing at a castle huger than his own. She gasped, covering her mouth.

"Hyukie, what if we ran away and lived there? Just us and a few of the maids, maybe even the other six? That'd be great!" ___ cheered.

~flashback over~

~timeskip~

It was at the end of the woods, the castle. They walked in pairs. Minhyuk and ___, Kihyun and Hyunwoo, Wonho and Hyungwon, Jooheon and Changkyun, Solar and Moonbyul, and Hwasa and Wheein.

Minhyuk helped everyone over the stone wall, his hand lingering on ___'s. And so that's where they'd live. Where they'd live for the rest of their lives.

~large timeskip~

Minhyuk pecked ___'s lips, giggling.

"Ooh! Mommy and Daddy kissed!" Their daughter, Seo-hee, said childishly.

Their were more maids now. Jisoo, Rosè(which she preferred to be called), Lisa, and who Kihyun was now engaged to, Jennie.

Everyone was happy there. No unfair treatment, no complaints, and most important to Minhyuk, no one got forbidden.

How do I know all of this? Because I am Jennie, there all along.

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

Prologue

Title: Prologue

Word count: 1,586

Characters: John Watson and Matilda May

Warnings: Hints of abuse, unedited.

Notes: So here’s the prologue of my Sherlock story. It’s shorter compared to the next chapter I’m currently working on. If there are any triggers please tell me so I can add them to the tags. I haven’t edited it yet so take all typos and grammar mistakes with a grain of salt.

———

The waiting room was nothing like she'd imagined it being. It was small and crowded. Crowded with sick adults and sick children. It appeared each and every seat was filled by someone. Not everyone was sick but they were clearly afflicted with some sort of ailment or issue, very few appeared to only be in for a casual check up. Every now and then a nurse would come call out a name and off the patient in question went. They'd disappear behind the plain painted blue doors.

At least the waiting room had some form of entertainment for the young children. A small flat screen hanging from the wall about the children's area. She'd seen it on her way in, mutedly broadcasting Peppa Pig, that hadn't interested her in the slightest. Instead she focused her attention on the floor, head down trying to bring as little attention to herself as she possibly could.

She didn't dare touch the toys. Not only were they colourfully decorated breeding grounds for germs, they weren't hers. And she'd been rigorously taught, never touch what doesn't belong to you.

So she sat. Sat amongst the grownups in the room. Her neighbour seated to her right a complete stranger seated to her left.

A sharp acidic smell burned her nostrils. An unmistakable mixture of both cheap booze and classless cigarettes. She had a hunch the foul smelling stranger beside her engaged in the distasteful hobbies as her father.

She wanted to look, to just sneak a peek at the person beside her, but again that was something she knew better than to do. So she kept her eyes, those deep, earthy brown orbs, trained on her old trainers. They were so worn, her big toe was pushing its way through her right toe cap.

All she could do was sit and listen to the gentle repetitive tune of the wait rum music. It's soft rhythmic hum provided some comfort. It was enough to relax the poor girl's tense muscles. She didn't want to be there. She couldn't be there. But there she was and she felt utterly sick.

It was her well to do neighbour who'd made the appointment. The young woman claimed she wanted to ease some of the weight off the girl's busy father's shoulders. The child had had questions but thought it better not to ask them. She should have been more bold. Then perhaps she wouldn't be there.

Her neighbour, Cartia Hennigan, was a lovely young woman approaching her early thirties. She often meant well but had a tendency to overstep her bounds. Nonetheless, the little girl couldn't help but feel pity for the woman. Cartia, all her kindness and charity was nothing more than a façade, covering her great loneliness.

The little girl twiddles her thumbs, replaying the unfortunate event that landed her little butt in the stiff plastic chair. I have to be less of myself, she swore, this never would have happened if I had.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Her forehead throbbed, as if her brain was protesting. Her rational analysis was fighting against her self blame. She massaged her temple with her left index and middle fingers, pressing her right arm tightly against her stomach. It didn't help.

She sat straight, mimicking the posture of a proud queen, eyes still shut, she placed her palms on her knees gripping the fabric of her pant leg. In times of great distress she often found it best to disappear. Unfortunately, unlike the deep sea pelagic octopod she couldn't actually become invisible. She could retreat to the quiet sanctity of her own mind.

Some people retreat to what they call a "happy place". Her? Well... At least she had some place all her own, where the world would slowly fade away.

"Matilda Hennigan.”

Her little head flew up, eyes snapping to the kindly nurse standing in the door separating the waiting room from the rest of the clinic.

Her eyes darted to Cartia who was already standing, walking toward the blue, aluminum trim door. Her eyes widened, pupils anxiously constricting, she quickly pushed herself out of her seat then hurriedly followed after her neighbor.

When she finally reached the door she cast one more nervous glance up at her neighbor. "Shall we?" the nurse smiles warmly and holds the door open wider for the two to enter.

JWJWJW

Matilda sat on at the practice table hands folded like so, neatly rested on her lap. She had to admit this wasn't going as terrible as she'd originally envisioned it going. From what her father had told her, the doctors clinic was an utterly awful place reserved for terrible, no good people. And Matilda was certain she wasn't a terrible person. Or at least she tried not to be.

Her dad mustn't have done his research or had to have been thinking of another clinic. This one was adequate.

The nurse was nice enough. Mary? Yes, that was her name.

She was kind, she made the tedious tests Matilda was forced to endure more bearable. She'd commented on how cute Matilda purple pink polka dotted leggings were. And even promised the little girl a lollipop before she left.

Mary did however seem suspicious when Cartia explained the reason for her bringing Matilda to the clinic in the first place. Matilda wasn't sure why, maybe the explanation sounded weird. It was rather silly. She shouldn't have been playing so close to the stairs.

Matilda tried not to vocalise her disappointment when Mary left to retrieve the doctor, but failed accidentally letting slip a small puppy like whimper. It was unintentional and it bothered her.

Now she sat in the room, not quite alone, with her neighbour. Matilda hated the dressing gown. It left her exposed, back half vulnerable and visible.

At the very least if she moved in front of the mirror she could count how many freckles dotted her skin back there. Maybe like her forehead, nose, and cheeks they formed shapes in a connect the dots kind of way.

Matilda pushes herself up and jumps to the floor. Pain sliced upward like a swift blade through her left ankle. This unbalanced her making her landing less than perfect she ignored the feeling knowing the pain would subside momentarily. Then under the critically watchful eyes of Cartia, she pressed forward across the room toward the only thing that interested her. At least now that Mary was gone.

It was like most things in the public clinic, cheap, only standing about two Tildas tall. Matilda, standing a little less than an arms length away from the mirror, extended an arm gently resting her hand on the smooth reflective glass. It felt cool, good against her skin.

She stared at her reflection, eyes narrowing. She angled her body to one side. She didn't get why both Cartia and Mary seemed worried. She thought she looked fine.

Two rich brown eyes sparkled back at her - the colour of the earth after long torrential rains. Freckles dotted her face, like a chaotic mess of chipped marble. Matilda loved her freckles. A tumble of stringy blonde hair, with dark brown roots, messily pulled back into a low lopsided pony-tail hung between her shoulder blades. Yeah she looked fine.

Hold on. Matilda rolled her tongue across her cheek. There was a jagged cut that'd scabbed over on the right side of her temple, giving her a Harry Potter esque mark.

Matilda frowned, noticing the somewhat sickening shade of blackish blue on her skin, creeping out from beneath the neck lining of her dressing gown. Matilda pulled her collar down revealing a dark purple bruise spreading from the lower half of her neck to her shoulder.

Matilda could feel a lump form in her throat. Still... nothing to worry about. Bruises fade. She shouldn't have played so close to the stairs.

JWJWJW

Matilda heard the door open and shut, it's swift creaking noise made her arms go rigid.

The Doctor entered in a cable crew neck sweater and dark almost black jeans, his pepper salted hair was closely cropped. He had a face like some guy that'd seen much pain, and suffered much loss.

"Hello." Greeting the two, he had the posture of a soldier but after shaking hands with Cartia he visibly relaxed. "What's your name?" His voice came out like he'd just pulled a double shift the day prior, only functioning because he was running on six cups of tea.

Whilst he exchanged casual pleasantries Cartia, Matilda mindfully walked around him back to her seat at the practice table.

She knew how to keep a poker face, even in uncomfortable situations. As she went she observed the doctor carefully, eyes critically analysing every last detail of the pale man. Matilda bit her inner cheek. She'd found it was always best to keep her final findings to herself. Kept her out of trouble.

Dr. Watson gave a brief look at his clipboard before turning to Matilda. Already still, she felt a tight knot form in her chest, under his gaze. He knelt in front of Matilda, allowing her to see the stethoscope draped round his neck. Her first thought, strangulation hazard.

She leaned back sitting further in your seat. "Hey there, you must be Matilda." Her breathing stopped momentarily as the man extended his hand out for her to shake. "What a lovely name." He gave her a smile that just seemed so genuinely sweet. "I'm your doctor, Doctor Watson."

——————

I actually really enjoyed writing this story and it might be the one I chose to continue. I’ve seen stories where Sherlock has a child but none with John and so I’m writing this. Her name is Matilda in honour of my favourite reading character as a child. I hope she lives up to her namesake. She doesn’t have a last name as far as anyone thus far is aware hence her name being Matilda May. Her first name and second middle name. I do enjoy this story but am considering another for front runner of the year.

[punkscowardschampions]

Rio & Buster

Rio: *Even if he wouldn't laugh her out of here for it, (which he would), the commiseration of 'shit timing' wouldn't pass her lips. 'Cos both old enough to know better, even if she was a few months shy of his new number. Old enough to know that it was always going to be like this. Yeah, the first was usually the worst, and it would become normal as the years passed, but she was always not going to be here from now. Could get rid of a person but not their absence, standard. That was life. Not kidding anyone with that nonchalant approach though, couldn't even lean against the brick 'cos of the fucking wings. What a joke. And it wasn't JUST 'life'. It was her lack of. And all the reasons why. And how much they didn't fucking matter now. Nothing did. If Rio could make herself believe that, proper, then maybe she could feel alright about the fucked up shit she was feeling and the fucked up things she'd been doing, namely for and with Buster McKenna. Christ. As it stood though, she didn't. But feeling not alright, feeling wrong, fit the tone of tonight so fuck it, yeah? Yeah. Never mind how good he looked, and how she shouldn't even notice that but it was all she could, an unbelievably welcome distraction from the shit in her head, torturous as it was to only be looking and not touching. Whatever. They both knew they would. 'Til one of 'em came to their senses and realized what the fuck they were doing. That would be fun. But that weren't tonight. Certainly not there herself and highly doubting he was, if this getaway was anything to go by. And that was just the tip of the friggin' shitshow. So yeah, she'd put money on it. Throw money at it, if he wanted, she knew some places with low enough lighting and standards that'd fit the bill. Even get in in their costumes, fit right in, frankly...* Took your time, boy. Buster: *He'd been going through the motions, recycling behavior from nights past where he could. Taking a shot for this or getting dragged onto the dance floor they'd made for that, feeling no burn on the swallow how he should've (not even a year closer to properly walking in his dad's shoes yet like, never mind the old alkie's down his grandad's boozer) nor any awareness of his body paint being slightly sweat streaked now, as if to call out the obvious flaws deep in his chest, when really that was just more of the same bullshit and nobody here needed a sign anyfuckingway. Then again, none of them could see Buster watching Rio, waiting for the slightest indication that she was about to give into him and maintain eye contact that lasted longer than a second. What a fucking joke. He saw red in every moment she got close to somebody else, or just stayed away from where he and his friends were, playing the tease again, like he was that cunt of a kid and she could in any way go back to who she was before either. Christ's sake. But of course there wasn't a single guest at this party about to address what was missing or they couldn't have. Only the first elephant in the room, that. So there. All he could do was what was expected of him and loudly take everything that was offered, declaring it birthday's boy prerogative or some shit. Fuck it. Bonus points if in cracking open another bottle of Champagne it let him return to being numb in a gulp. After all, he'd been trained not to show any of his rage when it came to fighting for access to Jay, what was some more, yeah? No need to be a pussy. Nance was in NYC as good as alone and by all accounts she weren't crying into her cocktail. Handle it. Come on, how long had it taken him to break into a run, to show all his cards in one text? To get weak. And, honestly, how long had he been waiting for that too, not even mad it was coming, 'cause there was no blaming him for how Rio looked. Or how good it felt when they touched. The power was hers, to bring him to the point furthest from anesthetized, let her own it all. Why should he care if it was wrong, what the fuck did another mistake added to the list, matter? It was Halloween not New Years. Tonight he wasn't looking to try his best at anything new unless it made her as needy as he was, and twice as bad at least.* Could've taken longer. *Such a lie, but might as well start as they mean to go on, like. There was too much painful truth in his head as it was and this was meant to be the escape he practically needed to beg for, so whatever.* Rio: *She shrugs. The 'but you didn't' barely needing to pass through her head, nevermind be said out loud. They both knew. But they both knew the less they spoke about it the better. 'Cos let's face it, if they addressed this, then there was a whole parade of the pink fuckers, (making every day a circus!), that they'd have to and all- and fuck that. Yeah, it was messed up but at least this one felt good in the moment. All that other shit was just pain, all day, all night, pure and simple, black and white. And there was no denying the fun they were having playing in the grey. Front as he was now, and she did too. But not now. Make of it what you will, boy. SO thirsty for you or just sick and tired of not getting what she wants, anything that she needs, ever. It didn't matter what he thought, really. Just that he was here. And he was. In all his glory. Literally. Catching a bead of sweat as it dripped just below his navel, tracing the runnel it had made in his golden sheen, touch light over every muscle she encountered, bringing said finger up to her mouth to taste.* Sweet. *It was the opposite, of course, salty, but still, good. Too fucking good. As much as it was meant for him, to get him on the level, a taster of what was to come; It had made her want more too. To taste every part of him, and let him taste her until they smashed into one...being, devouring each other with mutual ferocity and want and reckless abandon. Reckless was the right word. This was literally his family home and some of hers were still inside. Not to mention plenty of others who knew they were cousins. How they didn't ALSO know how badly they wanted to fuck each other senseless all the time was another matter entirely. It felt ridiculously obvious. On her part, but also his, (not sorry about it, McKenna). As if the constant eye-fucking wasn't a dead giveaway, get a clue, people. Apparently, they were so far gone, (all the way to Hell?), that they were beyond detection. Suited her in this moment. And many more, if they were being real. Still, some space needed to be made between them and the shit party. For their sake, if no one else's. Taking his hand, beginning to walk, nowhere in mind yet just the goal of being alone.* Come on. Buster: *There was no response needed to his piss poor retort, everything that needed to be said was as soon as their eyes met properly. Both lingered over it, brazen, 'cause they didn't have to steal timed glances out here in the pooled half-light, the most alone they'd been allowed to be so far tonight. Still, every thump of his heart in his ears was another tease, mocking the distance that didn't let him hear hers and he was about to do something - frankly ANYTHING - to stop the anger from taking over what senses he'd managed to keep a hold on somehow when Rio reacted first. FUCK. Whatever move he'd reckoned on her making, this wasn't it. Jesus. Buster knew that if any other girl had tried going in for this they'd have only made a twat of themselves and he'd be bent double laughing, but the sound that escaped him then wasn't. And worse, he didn't care. Let her have it. He was gonna have her first proper chance he got. 'Course the temptation (nothing like the right word for how deep the desire went to go with this specific urge immediately, but whatever) was there to pull her into what shadows he could find against the brick and fuck her right there, in an almost parallel to the first time they'd managed to go through with it, the same desperation fueling him as that fucked up day they were all refusing to think about. He was ready to pull her into him even as the muted bass put itself in competition with the girl's rapid heart, reminding Buster that he basically still had his back to the party he'd tried to turn it away from. Fuck's sake. He forced out a shaky breath, letting her take the lead the way she'd typed out she would, all the while saying a little prayer that his legs hadn't given way before carrying him to whatever destination they were gonna end up at. Had he ever wanted anyone this bad? Christ, the answer couldn't be a louder no if he shouted it out, like. Did that mean he had to lose his shit over a fingertip, though? Apparently fucking so. There was no shaking his head to clear it of these thoughts, there were too many to do anything but welcome. This here was the party for exactly that.* Where do you want me? Rio: *Rio grinned, and it actually managed to reach her eyes, headlights of cars passing doing a disservice in comparison, only twinkle found there in the green being the metaphorical kind. She almost laughed, too. Christ. That ached almost as much as it did between her legs for him. Had only been 18 days since. Wasn't that long to go without feeling, let alone expressing, any kind of joy; Calm down, like. The nasty voice in her head that had (so helpfully) morphed into Edie's, mocked that it had been a lot longer than that, hadn't it? Fuck off. Focus, don't lose this feeling. They didn't have to go far. Can't even last that long? Whore. Shut up, shut up! God, she was, would be, (happily), if it meant she could have him now. Right now. Get lost in him and how he felt and how he could make her feel, get so far out of her head it was better than any high she'd ever had- fuck. She needed that. No need to psychoanalyze it now or the morning after, like. Who cares if it was just because or because X, Y and Z? It still would be. Still was. She couldn't deny it anymore, didn't want to, especially not tonight, not now. Barely conscious of their surroundings but knowing they were about out of his nice little neighbourhood. Only seeing the world in potential places he could take her. Cutting across the dead road, so quiet and still, no traffic at this hour, opening the park gate, holding it open for him in a 'here will do' way. Her breathing was as erratic as she was behaving, frenzied, but she didn't care and he better fucking not, either, like.* Please? Buster: *Any stupid cunt looking to pull a last trick tonight would still be able to see them, but Buster couldn't have stopped himself, eager to go further in the only way that mattered, if the Garda had been dragged along into the bushes along with the two of them. Not now that he was finally able to do more than look and he knew she was craving it same as he was. 'Course with each step he'd taken from home that lead up to this one he'd convinced himself he was gonna do her exactly as she had him at first, aiming to make her beg harder, voice cracking on the rest of her words, forced out with pure need. He had form with all the other girls after all. And Rio'd be no different, like he always said, she wasn't special.* Say it again. *He'd never sounded that desperate himself though, had he? Fucking hell. Focus, come on. He stayed committed the idea of this game until his fingers had actually gone lower than hers, roughly pulling the lower half of the costume aside. Hours before he'd wanted nothing more than to touch, taste and tease, however hurried he'd have had to be, but once he was inside her, the thought of quickly pulling his hand out to put to his mouth with a smirk lost any previous appeal. No games, yeah? He'd agreed to it then, and her every reaction reinforced what a fucking great promise that'd been to make.* Jesus. *He fingerfucked her not so she'd cum hard at least once before he did (a bonus to remember in the morning that he'd been powerless at the party, yeah, but wasn't any more, not the real goal if it had ever been.) 'cause she'd never looked as fucking good as she did right now. And after how the night had been going he'd not reckoned on feeling so fucking good himself by the end. It could be that simple if he wanted, and Christ, he wanted nothing else. Nothing more either.* Rio: *As tempting as it proved to deny him in the everyday scenarios, always impossible to resist the urge to disagree with McKenna, just for the sake of half the time; now was so far beyond the time. Pleas, begging him to touch her, to fuck her here and now, hoping people heard and saw, telling him how bad she wanted it, him. All tumbling out as if it was natural; What else would she be saying, asking, when they both knew this was ALL she ever wanted? She had no problem relinquishing that naysayer role, that game they played where they didn't want each other or this, when it came down to it. Rio found it easy, too easy if she were to think about it (which she didn't, often), easier with him than anyone else, somehow. Whatever, he could call her a whore before, during and after if it made him feel better about it. Not like she had any more satisfying answer for him as to why him, and why it kept happening. She knew it wasn't that, herself, but it'd be better if it was, so he could believe it all he liked (if only she could). Have that one for free, boy, on the house, on me. The answer seemed so obvious when he was finally inside her, dragging her out of her head, all thoughts turning into a haze of pure pleasure, only concern keeping this feeling going for as long as possible. Nothing but the feeling of it, of him, and the only thing she needed to do, her only concern, was making sure he felt as good in return.* Fuck, Buster! I need you. *About as much to tug down as she had, a nice change to unbuttoning in the dark. Keeping it simple, that's what they were doing, primal, nothing more but nothing less than fucking incredible. Sliding into position, into each other, hip bone crashing into hip bone, in one move, one moment. The hiss of sharp intakes of breath at the same time, moans matching moans and groans and grunts and praises and curses being exclaimed on the same thrust.* Don't stop. Don't. Stop. God- you're good, you're SO fucking good- *Holding onto him like her life depended on it, arms wrapped tight around his neck, pulling his head down so it was level with hers, so he could see, look straight into her eyes and see what he was doing to her. Fuck, she wanted to kiss him. Had they? Her head was swimming. Did they? Surely not, that was too much, too personal. Would make it too real. But how hadn't they, when they'd done all this, how was that the step too far? Christ, she wanted it so bad now she was watching his lips, even more than she had wanted his dick deep inside her. Wet like he'd just licked them on purpose, pink tongue poking out so fucking cute with concentration, they were full but she wanted to kiss them 'til they were swollen with her desire, bite them and pull them into her own mouth- Jesus fucking Christ...* Fuck it... *She murmured, tilting her head up to his, pulling him somehow closer still, 'til there was contact where she needed it most, moaning into his mouth, finding rhythm here to match the one below.* Buster: *It should have shocked some sense into him when their mouths collided too, that he was kissing her back as forcefully for one thing, like it was a normal thing to do never mind want from Rio Cavante. In reality, (wherein nights were spent with girls that weren't, but were instead fake from bottle blonde roots to bottle bought tan, of course) if they tried to initiate more than a playful lip bite he'd break it off with the promise of his mouth somewhere better. And when he followed through, Buster told himself he loved it, same as they did. Such bullshit. Never proved harder than now, living in a hardcore fantasy, like. But he should've learned his lesson from Chlo and yet here he was, fucking again without a condom or any intention of pulling out. Without a single thought of stopping, at any point, only the opposite. And he didn't care. God, he'd keep this going all night if he could, moan after muffled moan shamelessly letting her know it. Reminding him every second of this was actually happening, unreal as it seemed. And felt. 'Course, there was no way he could stay in their rhythm forever, but they finished together, he wouldn't let himself forget once he'd sobered up. Whatever he was, she was just as bad. Had to take what he could get the morning after, didn't he? Fuck. Don't start thinking about that already. Soft cunt. To pull the focus he concentrated on attempting to find, or at least think, of a way to clean himself off when he didn't even have a pair of socks on him. Fuck's sake. There was no time to get properly moody though, in looking around their immediate surroundings (for the first time, obviously) he had to fucking laugh. Did. Every bit of her skin that had pressed against his was streaked in gold to match his, glittering in the moonlight.* Rio: *About to ask what he was laughing at, with a bemused chuckle, when she looked down and saw the damage (or the joke) herself. All over her, like. At least she COULD see the funny side too, distance between the party and them achieved, glad she hadn't dragged him away for a mid-party quickie like she had wanted to many times over the course of the tense evening. That would NOT have been good, or a fucking laugh.* Fucking hell, McKenna! *Rubbing at the paint, to no avail, quickly giving up on that idea with a shrug.* No more paint, alright? Or, at least warn a bitch next time and I'll coordinate, yeah? Such an amateur. *She winks, fluffing her hair back up and straightening her (lack of) clothes as she walks away.* Buster: *He was tempted to fall back into familiar territory now that she didn't have her legs wrapped around him, blaming her, all bravado and 'well if you could only stay away, like' blah blah blah etc but the bullshit couldn't get past the laughter and he didn't want it to really. Not tonight. It was reaffirmed to him how much he didn't or want any of this to end yet, though it technically already had. Should've. He'd got what he wanted, hadn't he? The expectations for his birthday party had been more than exceeded, no denying it, so what? Why the fuck couldn't he play along and let her walk away? Christ, Rio was right about how amateur he was playing this now and in itself he should've fucking hated that, like. Been angry enough to turn away himself. Go home, 'cause he wasn't the one wearing the sin openly, it was her who had it pinned to her like a gold medal awarded for being some kind of sick fuck. Or whatever. But none of that happened. Buster did the opposite (becoming a habit of its own, this) keeping in step with her as she moved away from the scene of the crime as if distance made any difference to what would have to be owned. Buster shook his head, trying not to laugh again, ('cause yeah, everything was less funny when he was his own target, so try and sue him.)* Where do you think you're going? Rio: *Rio turned back to face Buster, carrying on walking, despite the darkness and despite the heels (just to show how much of a pro SHE was; it was any small victory you could grab when you were fucking up your life on such a monumental scale, yeah?), smirking, feigned innocence in the 'who me?' hand to chest mime. Standard. Had to go back to acting immediately, didn't they? Or face the consequences, and neither of them was ready to deal with salvaging from that level of fucked up wreckage, she more than reckoned.* I said I was taking you somewhere good, baby. You think that was it? *Shaking her head.* I'm just getting started, boy. *Finally turning back so she could direct them with purpose but throwing him back a coy look for good measure, making sure he was still up for it, hoping the spell didn't have to be broken yet.* It is your Birthday, after-all. Let me treat you. Keep up, though, yeah?