#just let us have snow days like regular humans. please.

[isfjmel-phleg]

We had a work meeting today in which it was indicated that we should work from home if there's a snow day/campus closure next week, as there might be.

It's not that my job is difficult, but there's only so much of it I can do from home, and I'm struggling with resentment at the implication that we need to be constantly available even when the campus is literally closed. We don't provide an urgent service. It's not the end of the world if the students have to wait a day to get their article requests in.

It's not that I can't fill requests from home. But it's the principle of the thing. If the campus is closed, I as a campus employee should not be on duty unless it's some kind of emergency.

I don't want to make a big deal about this to my boss, but I miss firm work/off-time boundaries.

[cardierreh15]

Variants

Please read part one to understand part two! ⚡️🐺 if you choose to be lost that’s your business but I warned ya!

***I do not consent to anyone translating, copy and/or repost my work!!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! MDNI

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Angst , Mentions of Death , Blood , Smut - Logan being an absolute MONSTER (this is very graphic) & Ororo being folded like a pretzel, lil bit of Voyuerism , Oral(Female Receiving) Face Sitting 😁, Scratching , Fingering/Masturbation , Minor Begging , Basically, Pray for her pussy. 😭

Pairings: Logan Howlett (Cavillrine) x Ororo Munroe also known as Storm

Description: Logan & Storm have a heart to heart. ⚡️

Word Count: 6.8K

Song: Earned it by The Weeknd

Side Note: Ororo's thoughts are in Italics Bold and OG Logan's voice is in orange italics.

Side Side Note: There are some elements taken from the X-Men movies but this is my own twist on it. I do not own the rights to those films or the characters. (Halle Berry is also not the Storm here)

Part two

Since Ororo’s arrival on Earth 199999, the weather has been less than satisfactory. The humans either blamed the wrath of Mother Earth or “Those Damned Mutants.” There was no in between but they were right about one thing.

The Storm goddess did have parts to play in why the weather was the way it was. Ever since she’d been here, her powers have been obstreperous; unpredictable and uncontrollable. It took her almost 20 years to get it right back home. And now here she was again starting from scratch. 

But the weather wasn’t the only thing that she had a hard time with. Nightmares haunted her at night; leaving her companion as exhausted as she was. She screamed, wept, and even had full conversations. 

On occasion, he’d get up from the large sectional that he slept on and drag himself to the bedroom. He wouldn’t dare wake her though, he’d just watch as she would cry and struggle to breathe. A part of him was afraid to wake her up while she was in such a state. He’d prefer to have his insides raw instead of scrambled like an egg.

As much as it pained him so, he’d watch her suffer until she quieted down. And by then, twilight had come and sleep was no longer an option.

Today was a regular day for both of them. Logan was tucked away in the garage working on something that’d aid his boredom. While Ororo was focusing on peeling the clouds out of her view. Her eyes white as snow and focus dead set within.

With her straining came the grunts and the gritting of her teeth. Blood began to drip from her nose and her headache returned. ‘Almost—‘ She huffed as her held up palms began to shake as if they were holding something heavy. And finally, the clouds disappeared from view.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, her eyes returned to normal and her arms dropped to her sides. They felt so heavy. And the headache remained. But on the bright side, she’d finally made progress and plucked a big rain cloud out of view of the blue sky.

‘Y’know, we could’ve used someone like you back in the day.’

Ororo whipped her head around but stumbled slightly when the dizziness came just as quick. ‘Mmm.’

‘Whoa, easy.’ Logan said as he reached out and grabbed her waist, helping her catch her balance once again. He took a good look at her, ‘You’re bleeding…’

She wiped her nose with her wrist and looked down at the bright crimson blood, ‘Oh… yeah. Looks like I am.’ She uttered softly.

‘You don’t seem surprised. Lemme go get you something to clean that up with.’

Letting out a gentle sigh, she leaned against the wooden railing for support when he let her go. Her mind felt like mush and she felt like she had a cinder block placed atop her head. And those moments of him leaving her side had felt like an eternity.

His heavy footsteps brought her out of her thoughts and she was able to pull herself upright to face him. In one hand he had two cream colored, large pills and in the other was a glass of water with a white wet cloth thrown over his wrist.

‘Jeez! What the hell are those?!’ Her eyes grew at the sight of the drugs.

Logan smirked, finding humor at her reaction, ‘its acetylsalicylic acid.’

Ororo’s brows tugged into one as she took the glass of water into her palm, ‘Aspirin.’

Giving her a nod, he outstretched his hand for her to take them.

‘Fuck, they feed these to horses?’ She pinched them up into her fingers before dropping them into her mouth and taking a big gulp of her water. She swallowed in hopes of swallowing both of them, but only swallowed one. ‘Ugh! They’re so hard to swallow!’

Logan laughed, ‘Only cause you’re thinking too hard! Drink some more water.’ 

She knocked back another gulp of water and swallowed hard. With her hand on her chest, Ororo whimpered and glanced up at him, ‘That went down hard. That’s super gross too.’ She took the cloth and wiped her nose free of the smeared blood.

‘Well it’s medicine, Ororo it’s not supposed to be tasty.’ He chuckled deeply once more as he rested his weight on his arms, leaning against the wooden rail.

‘It—‘ she paused for a second and did the same. She glared at him in a knowing glare. He’d been calling her Storm for weeks on end. But he said it right as if it came naturally.

‘You said my name right.’

Logan looked over at her, ‘I’ve been practicing. Besides, you call me James and I think it’s only fair that I address you by your name.’

Aw, she couldn’t help but feel a twist in her chest when he said it. It sounded just how James would say it. Effortless and again, natural. Easy. A smile curled on her lips, ‘Well, that’s thoughtful. Thank you.’ 

‘Mmm.’ He hummed softly before peeling his eyes away from hers to look up at the sky. ‘Seems like you’ve made some progress huh? It feels good to see some sunshine.’

She brought the glass up to her lips once again to take a sip then placed it down next to her. ‘I guess the world has me to blame for that.’ She grumbled with a gentle pout.

‘I don’t. I think the gift that you have is extraordinary.’ He smiled at her softly, ‘If you don’t feel like carrying the burden of how the world thinks of you, we can always switch?’

Ororo laughed and shook her head, ‘I don’t think I’d manage well with being one of the heaviest mutants on Earth. I’m already clumsy as is. Me falling will send me to hell I’m sure.’ The both of them laughed once more before they grew quiet again. ‘Thanks.’ 

Since she’s been conscious, Logan has been making it his responsibility to make her feel as comfortable as possible. It was the right thing to do. She came from an entirely different world and landed dead center in another one. He couldn’t imagine going through something like that alone, so he’d figured that she didn’t have to.

‘I want you to meet some friends of mine.’

Raising a brow, Ororo laced her fingers together. ‘Friends? You mean—‘

‘Yes, them. I don’t know what happened to the Xavier on your world but, there’s one here… and he can help you with controlling your abilities.’

A soft smile curled on her lips. It was a thoughtful gesture. She couldn’t really say that she was surprised. Beneath that hard exterior, her James was just as kind. ‘My X—…’ she sighed softly as the memories played back in her head. 

It was a death she could never really heal from. He was like a father to all of them. And she would’ve never thought she would’ve been the one to do it.

‘Professor Xavier died long before…’ she bit into her bottom lip and glanced away.

‘Before?’ Logan pressed as he placed his large hand at the center of her back.

His touch had seemed to bring her back to reality. She blinked away the tears and cleared her throat when she felt herself choking. She knew that she was gonna have to talk about it eventually. She couldn’t be reticent about her past forever. 

Soft thunder grumbled in the distance causing Logan to look up at the sky. Once again, the sun vanished and light gray clouds took its place. 

‘Here, let’s go inside. I heard ladies like tea. I think I have chamomile.’ He held his hand out for her to grab.

A feeble smile curled up on Ororo’s features. This look had come quite familiar to him. He witnessed it everyday. But perhaps today, he would try playing a part where he can bring joy behind her smile, instead of sadness and dismay.

Instead of taking his hand, she gave him a nod and walked towards the patio doors and pulled it open. 

Logan watched her walk into the house before scooping up the glass that she left behind and followed suit. He closed the slide door behind him before placing the cup into the sink. Then, he filled up the tea kettle and placed it on the burner. 

Ororo plopped down on his recliner and pulled her feet beneath her as her grief became her ailment once again. Her brown eyes were sad and she sported this foreboding frown. 

She sat there, her mind thinking about the day that Charles died. Things weren’t supposed to go down that way. Jean was supposed to willingly come home with them. She was supposed to get help. But Magneto was there. And he brought back up with him.

‘Here.’ Logan deep voice uttered as he held the mug out towards her. 

Ororo looked up at him before taking the warm mug into her hands. She gave him a hesitant smile before turning her attention away once again. 

He walked to the sectional that sat across from her. ‘I see you’re comfortable?’ 

She was dumping her tea bag into the water so the herbs could soak better. ‘Hmm?’ 

‘The recliner. You like it?’

Ororo gave him another fake smile, ‘Yes, it sits well.’ Her bleakness was quite telling. He knew that when she became cold and short, that she was more than likely fighting her inner demons. Those demons being the torturous memories of her past life. The good and the bad.

Logan sat there quietly, his elbows resting on his knees, slouching over with his silver dog tags hanging as he tried to figure out what to say to her. One would think after losing so many people, he would know what to say to her. But it was different when one of the people that she’d lost was actually him in another timeline.

‘You don’t have to say anything…’ she said softly as she toyed with her tea bag, swirling it around in the now flavorful hot water. 

‘Huh?’

Ororo’s eyes flickered up from the substance in the mug to his face, ‘You don’t have to say… anything.’ She paused, ‘I’ve been here for almost two months and you deserve to know more of the truth.’

He sat up straight, looking up at the ceiling when the storm caused the lights to flicker on and off. He then glanced down at her, ‘Uh— you sure you wanna talk about this? The um—‘

‘It’s fine.’ Rain began to beat down on the roof of the cabin and its windows. It would’ve made the perfect lullaby, but they wouldn’t be doing much sleeping tonight.

‘Jean Grey… killed Charles Xavier where I’m from. And she’s also dead… because James killed her.’

Logan’s face hardened at the news. He was taken aback from it. The people that were alive and well on this Earth, were dead and gone on hers. ‘Wh-How did she do it? Was he not-‘

‘No. Previously before Jean’s death, she died before that… or so we thought. Drowned at the bottom of a lake to save us. She killed Scott—‘

‘Cyclops?!’ He sounded a little less surprised this time.

‘Yes… her lover.’

‘Pfft, well. That would make sense he’s a dick.’ He uttered before taking a sip of his tea and placing it on a coaster. 

Just as she thought he’d say. That alone caused a tiny smile to quirk up on her lips for a short moment before she nodded, ‘Anyway, she was brought back to the school so she could be nursed back to health. But when she came back she… she didn’t come back whole. Someone— something else resided within her. She was cold, evil, impulsive— just out of control.’ 

Logan was listening intently.

‘Magneto—‘

‘Tuh—‘ Logan clicked his tongue as he sat back against the sofa, ‘He a problem in every damn universe?! Jesus Christ!’ 

As much as she wanted to laugh, Ororo kept herself under control. This was a serious conversation and it was a very important moment for her. ‘Unfortunately so. Magneto got ahold of Jean. Thinking that he could manipulate her into standing side by side with aiding the civil war against the humans for the cure.’ 

‘The cure? You mean like…?’

‘Yes, exactly what you’re thinking.’ 

Logan never understood the thought process behind “curing” mutants. But he felt that mutants had the right to protect themselves from those who wished to do them harm. 

But the code of honor of the X-Men went against that principle because then, they appear to be what the humans paint them out to be. The fine line between them had often crossed when he was involved. 

‘But even she was too powerful for him. We went to Jean’s childhood home in hopes of bringing her back to New York. But we were already too late. Magneto was there and things got out of hand.’ Her heart ached as she remembered just seeing his suit laying there before her and James. ‘Magneto’s men kept us busy and by the time James  got to them… Charles was… dead.’ Tears filled her eyes but she quickly wiped them away with her thumb.

‘Wh-‘ he began, ‘Ororo, I’m sorry to hear that. That must’ve been… that must’ve been very hard for the team. I couldn’t imagine losing him like that. And Jean… man. That was deep.’ He let out a shuddered breath.

‘Yeah…’ she trailed off before looking down at her tea again. ‘Then uh— a few years later, the sentinels took over and well— that’s how I got here.’

‘Sentinels? I’ve heard you mumble their name in your sleep.’ Logan paused and narrowed his eyes, ‘What were they?’

Looking back up at Logan, she instantly was reminded of their appearance when she heard their name. They were what fueled her nightmares. They held nothing behind their eyes. No compassion, no feelings not once or ever. They were created out of hate and were programmed to do a job that the humans had been trying to do for centuries.

Swallowing her spit she started, ‘In 1973, Mystique murdered Senator Robert Kelly.’

‘Good!’ Logan said cheerily, ‘He’s also a Grade A dick.’

‘No, not good. He was proposing a bill… a bill that the government would create an army of robots to eliminate the race of mutants. The United States was kind of hesitant at first and considered it such an inhumane situation. But all he had to do was die. So, after his death they hunted her down but not because she was a fugitive but because she possessed something that could aid the cause.’ She sighed softly before continuing, ‘Her ability to take the appearance of anyone and even possessing their abilities.’

‘When they caught her… they killed her. They took her DNA and remodeled it around the idea of “Mutants are dangerous and shall be put down, no ifs ands or butts about it.”. And so, the Sentinels reigned. They began with the lookers… anyone that didn’t fit the human appearance. But that didn’t matter anyway, because they even put humans on their hunting list.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ He murmured as he ran his hands over his face. 

‘He wasn’t there… all hope for that was gone. We had an idea to go back in time to right the wrongs. But they found us out and killed everyone except me and James. We got away but then they found us again by detecting our abilities. Strange created this portal but no one knew where it led to. But they were already waiting for us there. Those damn things… always one step ahead.’ She scoffed and shook her head. 

Go!!! I’ll hold them off!

No, no, no, no! I’m not leaving you, James!

You have to, Storm. If you don’t then who will continue our legacy?! You have to go!

His words stung just as they did then. She didn’t want to leave him behind. The intention was for both of them to go. But James made for a hell of a distraction. Tears fell down her face and she sniffed.

Logan automatically put two and two together. Because if James wasn’t here but she was… the unthinkable happened.

‘He sacrificed himself to save you.’ 

She wiped her tears and nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘Fuck. Jesus — Storm, Ororo. I’m sorry. That’s… that’s rough.’ He sighed as he tore his eyes away from her. After absorbing all of that information, anyone would think she was losing her mind or perhaps it may have been a figment of her imagination. But her behavior. The nightmares, her grief. 

Even he felt the pain from all of her loss. No one could fake something like that.

‘I don’t — I don’t even know what to say other than… you are probably the strongest person I’ve ever met.’ 

Ororo scoffed and wiped her nose, ‘Thank you, Logan. I just thought I’d never be without him… y’know?’ 

Logan cleared his throat and nodded, ‘Well uh…You’re not exactly without him. He’s with you in spirit.’ 

A smile curled up on her face softly and as she nodded in agreement, ‘Yes, yes I suppose he is.’

***

Their conversations about their contributions to society had been drawn into the night. They laughed and talked about what the craziest things they’ve done to save people and the craziest things they’ve seen in general. 

‘Well, I’m gonna shower. I’ll be out for dinner in a little while.’ Ororo gave him a smile; now cheered up after the much needed talk. She placed her empty mug down on the coaster and pulled herself up from the comfortable chair and started down the hall. Then she stopped in her tracks and turned back around to face him. ‘Oh, Logan—‘ 

He’d picked up their mugs by their handles and stood up before turning around to face her. ‘Yeah?’

‘Thank you… for everything.’ The rain had come to a light drizzle and the thunder ceased to exist. A big pretty grin curled up on her lips before she spun around and walked towards the bathroom. 

As he watched her walk away, he let out a gentle sigh as he felt his heart palpitate in his chest. The uneasy feeling caused him to clear his throat. 

She stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She felt like there was a time for a change. Time for her to start the process of moving on and healing the way she wanted. 

Memories of James running his fingers through her locks and how he’d learned how to braid her hair so it would stay out of her way when they’d fight. How he used to tug it when…

Opening the medical cabinet, she rummaged in there until she found a pair of surgical scissors. Bringing the legs into her fist, she contemplated what she was about to do. Doing this, would be the start of cutting the old James out of her life… and letting the new one in. 

Taking the scissors to the spots where the dreads began, Ororo began to snip them off until she was left with nothing but a small pixie Afro. She felt lighter physically and metaphorically. She'd miss all of her hair. It was down her back and it became a part of her identity. But it was time that she made a new one for herself.

Scooping up all of the hair, she placed them in the bathroom’s waste bucket. 

Ororo couldn’t believe what she’d done. Taking scissors to her hair like that; hair that was way past her rump and took her 15 years to grow.

But she wanted to start anew. There was no escaping her new life and it was time she stopped running from it and heal the right away. And to do that, she had to let him in.

Her brushed out hair. It was cute and brought out the roundness in her face. It also made her appear youthful. 

She turned on the hot and cold knob before stepping into the spacious walk in shower. She reached over and grabbed her body wash, lathered it up in an African bathing net and began to scrub herself as if she were cleansing herself of her past instead.

Mmm, you smell so good.

Tell me how you want it baby.

That’s it, my little storm cloud.

Ororo shut her eyes, ‘Mmph!’ She hummed as she felt a familiar tingling sensation in her lower belly. She let out a gentle whimper as titillating memories clouded her mind.

Her heartbeat began to pick up when his voice flooded her ears. This was James' favorite place. It’s where he would wash off the labors and hardships of the day or in some cases, weeks. And it was also James’ favorite place to fuck. She could practically feel the ghost of his hands all over her body. Gentle sighs and suppressed moans rumbled in her chest as her hands followed while the water rinsed away her suds.

Meanwhile down the hall in the living room…

Logan was sitting on his leather recliner where she’d left him after their emotional conversation. His reading glasses rested at the tip of his nose as he read some of his mail. ‘Yadda, yadda—‘ Then he paused. A particular scent filled the air. Taking over his senses that instantly caused goosebumps to trickle over his skin.

Then, the whimpering and whining followed. 

With his own heart ramming out of control, he took off his glasses and let out a deep, shaky breath. He could feel his animalistic urges creeping up on him. And the more he tried to conceal them, the more carnal they became. His body began to heat up and his cheeks became flush. 

‘OK—‘ Logan grumbled as he ran his fingers through his curly locks. ‘Just be… cool. You’ve been around plenty of women.’ Well, she happened to be the first woman he’s been attracted to in a while. 

‘I want you so bad right now!’ She whispered.

He snapped his head towards the door down the hall. An unwarranted growl vibrated in his chest as he slowly began to give into his lascivious urges.

‘God, please don’t make me do this.’ He uttered to himself as he brought his hair into both of his fists and tugged at it; walking into the opposite direction to walk out the front door. 

But as soon as she called his name…

‘Mmm, James!’

That was the green light for him. ‘Goddammit.’ He hissed as he quickly tore off the wife beater, then his belt and jeans. Socks and his briefs were gone by the time he’d even made it to the bathroom door. 

Not even bothering to knock, he gently pushed the door open to see her brown silhouette through the patterned shower glass door. Glancing to the right was her long white dreadlocks sitting in the trash can. He’d be sure to ask why she got rid of them later. But right now, he had more pressing matters that he must attend to.

Ororo was in a deep trance as her own hands made love to her body as if they were James’ instead. A mewl left her lips as she unknowingly turned to face him in the shower; putting on a show for him.

Inhaling deeply at the sight of her gorgeous body he could feel the familiar numbness creeping up his spine. He watched as the water trickled down the peaks and valleys of her body. Oh how he’d wished he were in its place instead. To be able to touch her like that. 

He also took note of the battle scars she possessed and the others that came naturally; her stretch marks on her hips and waist, thighs, her belly and breasts. God she was perfect. Logan swallowed before he slammed the shower door hard enough to grasp her attention.

Her eyes slowly opened as a harsh gasp escaped her chest. She quickly covered her pretty brown tits with her arm and hid her crotch with her free hand and thigh. ‘Logan! What are you doing?!’

‘You called, I came.’ He said as he took a step forward.

She took a step back, ‘I—I did not! I—I said…’ Ororo looked up into his dilated, hooded eyes. The same eyes James used to give her when it was time for him to breed her.

‘Hmm?’ He hummed as he took another step forward.

‘I said… I said James! I wasn’t—‘

‘You weren’t talking about me? Yet, I’m the only James here… and we—‘ he walked forward through the water as her back was finally pressed firmly against the cool tile. ‘We are practically the same… right?’

Practically would be an understatement. From the way they wore their hair and clothes to how he spoke. The only thing that set them apart were their eyes. And she could admit, his eyes were quite unique. Blue like the sky with just a touch of brown as if God spilled a little bit of honey into them.

‘I—I—‘ Ororo was stuck in his gaze. She felt as if she were to take her eyes off of him, she’d die. His eyes were her lifeline in this moment.

Logan brought his hand up and rested it against the wall to trap her there. ‘You’re gonna allow me to do what he can’t?’

Ororo let out a gentle shudder as she slowly dropped her hands to reveal her body to him once again, inviting him in. 

He scooped her up in his arms, earning a surprised gasp from her lips and a gentle giggle followed. ‘Fuck, you smell so good.’

She wrapped her legs around his waist, ‘So that’s how you found me out… you smelled me.’ Ororo teased.

‘I did.’ Logan smirked, ‘That’s what animals do right?’

The woman had no idea what had come over her in those next few moments, but the longer he held her in his arms like this, the more aroused she became. Leaning in, she parted her lips before slipping her tongue into his mouth. He welcomed her lips into his as their tongues instantly massaged at one another.

Had it not been for Logan holding her up in her arms, Ororo was sure that she would’ve crumbled to her knees. But it was delicate and languid as if they were exploring and learning about one another. The kiss felt familiar but so different at the same time. She ran her fingers through his wet curls as a moan rumbled in her chest. 

Logan broke the kiss and looked up at her with lust induced eyes as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip. ‘I love your hair like this.’

‘Yeah?’ Ororo purred.

‘Oh yeah.’ He chuckled before meeting one another’s lips in a much more greedier, confident manner. As they devoured one another, Logan reached beneath her and began to rub at her cunt.

She gasped sharply as she ripped her lips away from his. 

‘Tell me how you want it baby.’ He uttered as he gently worked his fingers against her pussy.

Just like James.

Licking her smile, she demanded, ‘Why don't you do a taste test hmm? See if I taste as good as I smell?’

Logan grinned and placed her down on her feet, ‘I like the sound of that.’ He snatched her lips up into hers one more time before he took her hand and spun her around gently. Lightning bolts for stretch marks danced around the curvature of her juicy ass. And just like that, the growling returned.

Huffing like a hound, Logan got on his knees and assumed the position for her to mount his face. 

Being that he was still tall even on his knees, he had to help her onto his face. His mouth opened, tongue out and flat for the proper seat while his nose nestled right against her asshole.

Ororo’s head fell back as her eyes fluttered closed as a naughty little moan slipped from the home of her lips. Steadying herself, she placed her hand on his stronger shoulder as one arm held her upright. 

With her free hand, she reached behind him and ran her fingers through his semi-wet dark hair. Her toes curled as Logan began to lap and drag his thick tongue from her clit all the way to her ass.

‘Ooh fuck.’ She shuddered out as she reached up to cup her breast in her hand. 

He had a tight lock on her thighs as he let her take the reins with her hips so she could control how much pleasure she wanted to feel. But that all changed when he decided to take the control back and lick, suck and kiss on her pussy as if it were her pretty mouth instead. ‘Mmm!’ He groaned, damn she did taste even better than she smelled. 

It was like a big grizzly bear finally finding the jackpot of rich honey. And he couldn’t get enough!

‘Logan, oh—‘ she hissed as she felt the tingling sensation in her clit as he began to suck and flick his tongue over the sensitive numb. ‘Aaaw!’ Ororo tried to move but he had her locked in so tight, she couldn’t even move if she wanted. So he kept devouring her until she finally erupted in his mouth. 

They haven’t even gotten to the penetration part of the session and she was already aspirated; out of breath and shaking from the very first orgasm that she had in what felt like forever. 

Placing kisses on her inner thigh as they shook, Logan unleashed her from his deathly hold and helped her unmount from his face as if it were a saddle. 

Ororo held onto his shoulder as he rose to his feet. Her knees were wobbly and she was smacking her lips together. ‘I’ve — I’ve got cottonmouth.’ She pouted up at him.

Logan towered over her as he wiped her juices off of his lips with his thumb and sucked it off. ‘You won’t have it for long.’

The shower was turned off and he had her legs wrapped around his waist again. Their tongues and mouths molted together as they indulged each other sloppily. Not being able to make it to the room, Logan carried her off to the sofa. Cool shower water dripped from their bodies and he laid her down on the couch.

When he ripped his lips away, Ororo was finally able to take in some air. She brought her trembling swollen lips between her teeth as she finally took in his body. Her desperate hands slid from his shoulders to his wet hairy chest where his dog tags rested against him. She drug her fingernails down his pecs to his abdomen. Spreading her thighs nice and wide, Logan placed one of her legs atop the cushions of the sofa. 

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Watching as her huge tits rose and fell with each anxious breath. If she hadn’t been touching him, she’d think this was all a figment of her imagination. She just couldn’t get enough of his godliness. How the droplets of water only defined his body. 

Suddenly, Logan sank his middle finger and ring finger inside of her; palm side up.

Her eyes fluttered close, whining as her head fell back against the arm of the sofa. ‘Mmm fu—oh!’ Massaging and kneading her walls from the inside out, Logan pressed his thumb against her clit and rubbed it in circles to add to the pressure. Low animalistic growls echoed in his chest and his black pupils were the size of marbles.

This was no longer the Logan that she felt comfortable with but an animal with one purpose. To mate and breed.

‘S-shit—‘ Ororo stuttered as she looked between her thighs to watch him finger fuck her g-spot. ‘Ooooh Logan! I’m gonna cum!’ She wailed; her legs twitched and spasmed as he stroked her sweet spot. Her eyes fluttered up to look at him as her body began to tense against her will. ‘Oh—GOD!’ Heaving fast as her eyes dropped down to the massive member that stood high in attention; leaking with his own pre-cum. The way it throbbed and jumped as Logan edged her on further. 

A filthy, guttural cry escaped from her lips; her hips rose as he continued to rub it out of her. ‘Fuuuuck!’ She crooned. Dropping her hips back down onto the sofa; breathless as all get out. Ororo watched as he gently tugged his thick fingers out of her. Covered in her sweet stickiness, he wielded no hesitation as he sucked his fingers clean. 

Was she in disbelief? Yes. But surprised? Not really. 

Were they this disgusting in every universe? 

Snarling at her tart taste, he snatched her waist and pulled her closer. Taking a hold of his long, girthy cock, he slapped the erected muscle against her clit. A gentle groan left his lips as he rubbed himself against her clit. God, he was losing it. 

‘Logan.’ Ororo whined out.

His head snapped up as his ears perked up at the sound of his name. Like an excited puppy. So exhilarated, that if he had a tail it would wag violently. But he didn’t let his excitement get in the way of the true task at hand.

‘Beg.’ He demanded.

Ororo let out a shuddered sigh as she watched him grab one of her ankles in his large hand. ‘Pl-please?’ Her lips pouted just a little and she never took her gaze off of his.

Logan growled lowly in approval, ‘Good.’ Adjusting his hips, he placed his hand behind her thigh, right above the back of her knee. He kept her legs spread as he pressed his fat mushroom tip against her slit. Her needy pussy pulled him in a warm embrace, earning a loud grunt from him. 

She hiccuped as she inhaled too much air as she felt the pressure and pleasure merge into one. ‘Mmmmph!’ Her thighs began to tremble the deeper and deeper he descended. ‘Ugh!’ 

He gritted his teeth together as his eyes fluttered shut. He wiggled his hips a little as he made room for himself inside of her. ‘Grrr—od—‘ he let groaned eagerly as he finally bottomed out within her. ‘—Dammit!’ 

Goosebumps covered their bodies as if they were connected to one another. He leaned down and pressed another sloppy kiss on her lips. As their lips collided, he stalled his hips as her comfortable walls held him tightly. 

Breaking the kiss, Logan looked down into her eyes as he pulled his hips back and rolled them into her. A strangled moan left her lips as she looked up into his animalistic crazed eyes. His dog tags dangled and rocked above her as he began to slowly pick up the pace of his hips. 

‘Ooh, Logan. Shit yes!’ The heaviness of his hips ramming into her was so familiar. It left her in a reminiscence of how James used to train her to take him the way she was supposed to. 

You have to get used to me lightning bolt. Fuck.

And so she did! Who knew that he was prepping her for this moment? 

Logan pumped his hips in and out of her like an animal in heat. Husky grunts and groans fell from his lips as his large hands held the back of her thighs. He was so deep inside of her this way. 

‘Mmm, so fucking wet for me. Shit!’ He sputtered as he dropped his dick into her deeper again while his hairy balls smacked against her puckered asshole.

A high pitched shriek left her lips in surprise when he began to beat at her cervix. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she rested her hands atop his for leverage and squeezed tightly. Sweet aspirated grunts and mewls graced her lips as she bit into her bottom lip. She was holding back screams and sobs.

And when Logan noticed that, he brought his hips to a sudden stop. He leaned in close to her, his nose touching hers; eyeing her carnally. ‘You can scream… it’s not like anyone will hear you.’ Now he was determined to snatch her voice by the end of the night. 

Ororo didn’t know if she was turned on or scared. Perhaps she was both but he placed a sweet kiss on her lips, she was reassured that he would take good care of her. 

Logan began to pick up the pace again, earning a string of filthy curse words from his Goddess lover. His body pounded into hers as he panted harshly; mirroring the sound of the thunder claps outside. Lightning struck very close to the cabin as he fucked her so stupid, she couldn’t even form words. 

‘Fu—huck, ye— eah! Mmm, uh!’ She looked down between them, watching as his dick delved balls deep into her over and over again. Her chest heaved as her hooded eyes peered back up at him. ‘My Gods, Yes! James!’ Ororo tightened her hold on his hands as he began to fuck harder, faster. 

A loud and rough groan left Logan’s lips before he nestled his furry face into her neck where he placed gentle kisses. ‘Fuuuuck—‘ he grumbled as he retreated his hips and pulled his cock all the way out. 

Huffing heavily, he found himself dripping with precum again. ‘Jesus fucking— look at what you’re doing to me.’ He laughed mirthlessly. He sounded so esurient though; hungry and desperate for her. Logan was losing his mind. 

A tiny giggle left her lips before he slipped his sticky dick right back inside of her. Her back arched as he made home within her again. Her whining came shortly afterwards. ‘Fuck. Me. Logan! Yes! James! Yes!’ Part of her felt like she was fucking the old James. But something about how inhuman this one fucked her was brand new. He was relentless! Diligent and persistent in how he pleased her. 

James used to give her a moment to catch her breath but this one wasn’t so kind. 

He was desperate to please her and that's all he gave a damn about. 

Mine, mine, mine. 

‘Mine, mine, mine!’ He growled hungrily.

Just like him. 

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as their bodies began to heat up with their salacious work out. She brought her face into her hands, digging her nails into his cheeks as he began to steal her breath away. Her mouth fell as her womb began to twist. Her walls began to tremble and her spine grew numb. A silent moan escaped her lips as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Logan hissed as she began to draw blood when she clawed at his cheeks; healing just as fast as the wounds opened. But he never turned his attention from her. It only fueled that beastly desire more! ‘Yeah, that’s it baby! Cum on that dick!’ He gritted through his teeth; his warm flesh covered in a thin sheet of sweat and the veins in his neck popped into view. ‘C’mon!’ 

A tear fell down the side of her face as he stole another orgasm from her. ‘OH FUCK!’ She’d finally released a loud sob from her chest as he rutted into her as if it were his last time. 

The pair fucked as if they were trying to build a family. Nasty, naughty sex filled their evening which landed them on the floor, and the bedroom. Ororo left Logan empty with nothing else to give. Logan beat down Ororo’s walls til her orgasms had become painful. They’ve done everything from Doggy style (Logan’s favorite) to Cowgirl. They were spent.

Laying in the king size bed, tucked beneath the warmth of the comforters, Logan had his heavy arm draped around her holding her close. Ororo smiled softly as her head rested against his hairy chest. She gently picked up his silver dog tags and ran her thumb over the numbers. All of the numbers but the last two were completely different from James. 

‘You’re still thinking about him?’

‘Who?’

Turning his head to look at her, he raised a brow with a small smirk curled on his lips.

Letting out a gentle sigh, ‘I’m only thinking about you.’ Part of that was true. She was thinking about him and how mind blowing their sex was. But she was also thinking about him. Not in the way one would think. 

Ororo was coming to terms that this was going to be her new life now. Everyone she’s ever known in her previous life or… timeline was gone. There was nothing left for her on that Earth anymore but here, she could make something of herself. She could get her power back under control. She could heal and live a happy life. By his side. 

Looking up at him, her small smile had turned into a grin. And when he’d return that grin, she giggled happily. Logan ran his thick fingers through her short white coils. ‘I really do like your hair like this, thundercloud.’ 

Her dimples deepened in her cheeks at the nickname. ‘Good, then I shall keep it that way.’ 

Stay there.

Honorable Tags: @milknhonies @capswife @augustsprincess @peternoonewantsthat @raccoon-eyed-rebel @multi-culti-girl @multiversxwhore

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑾𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵 ║ Chapter 1 - Hungry Dogs Are Never Loyal

| FERAL WOMAN | series masterlist | main masterlist | | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 7.8k | CHAPTER WARNINGS: explicit depictions or allusions to violence, physical and mental abuse, captivity, SA, trauma, etc. | CHAPTER SUMMARY: Sam and his men are out on a scouting mission, looking for the next targets in their slave trade enterprise. You are left behind to wait for their return, but you scramble to form a plan of action when a different group makes it back to the cabin before Sam and his men.

║ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳ ║⋄── •✧• ──⋄║ ＮＥＸＴ ║

Please read with caution if you have difficulties with works concerning: SA, physical violence, torture, captivity, trauma, and similar topics. They are discussed throughout the series, but all highly sensitive portions WILL BE MARKED with my sensitive material banner if you wish to skip the more challenging portions. The sensitive material banner looks like this:

“If you walked faster you wouldn’t be in the snow for so long.” Samuel, or Sam as he insisted to be called, always reprimanded you for these sorts of things despite the fact that you were usually in these kinds of undesirable situations because of him.

“My ankles hurt, Sam. I’m really sore,” you muttered. You didn’t dare have your eyes cast anywhere but downward. You didn’t want to risk him picking up on your frustration with him. He sighed heavily and pulled you tighter against him with what you assumed he considered a consoling hold.

“I know. I’m sorry for that.” His voice had a stern edge, but it was soft enough you knew he meant it. It was always like this with Sam. Ever since he and his nomadic slaver group had abducted you nearly two winters ago after killing off most of your small group, he had pretty much immediately made you his special pet.

It had spared you the brutal torment of just being a “regular trade,” but you could never forget the faces of the young women and children from your former group as they were beaten, tortured, and sold off for labor or worse. You had seen so many women and children come and go, always worse off after having been acquainted with Sam and his men.

At first, you resisted and fought. You fought so hard to not end up like others in your group.  But you quickly learned that leaning into the part of playing Sam’s sweet little pet made your life a whole lot easier. So, that’s what you did.

You learned to stop speaking unless spoken to. You learned to shut your brain off every time he approached you with that look in his eye. You learned to drop your gaze in the presence of the men so as to not agitate anyone.

It was a bizarre relationship you had with Sam. He was your captor, but he was also your rescuer. Because he had claimed you as his, you were understood to be off limits to the others. It also meant you weren’t sold off to the highest bidder, something Sam often liked to remind you of.

“You would have made us a pretty penny, Doll.” It was his deranged way of expressing just how valuable you were to him. “I just couldn’t let you go, though. Had to keep you for myself.” To him, it was a sappy compliment. It made you want to throw up every time he mentioned it.

You knew things could be much worse. You were certain of that, having seen the fate of so many others for yourself. Sam had a lot of faults, but you much preferred playing into his ego than finding yourself at the mercy of someone else. Mercy was a rarity these days. Sam wasn’t as cruel as he could have been, as cruel as you might have expected from someone who was at the helm of a prolific human trafficking and trade enterprise. Still, he had no regard for what your wishes or desires ultimately were. Whatever he wanted took priority, and there were many times where your priorities not aligning with his made him lash out against you and be extra rough as punishment, only to apologize and try to make it up to you in ways that never panned out. You knew in some sick, twisted way, he really did care for you. You had learned to be tolerant of him just for the fact alone that it was only at his discretion that you had been spared more vile horrors than what you had already endured.

“I’ll feed you real good tonight. Promise,” he chuckled, tugging you close to him. He sometimes got amused like this whenever you were “crabby” as he liked to put it. Your feet were practically dragging against the ground, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Can I at least have a blanket or something?” you hedged. He looked down at you with an expression that said you should already know the answer to that question.

“If you’re too comfortable you won’t be able to think about how you could have made better choices last night, Doll,” he explained, as if he regretfully had to hand down discipline for your bad behavior.

You held back a bitter laugh. Comfortable? You eyed the timeworn shed you were quickly approaching, knowing it would be your detention space for god knows how long. Nothing about your life was comfortable; it was just a series of things that weren’t as bad and things that were worse.

“I promise I will reflect on my bad behavior, Sam. I’m so sorry.” You strained your voice to persuasively deliver your fake remorse. It worked. Of course it worked. You had spent so long tuning into every minute facet of Sam and what made him nicer to you and using it to your advantage.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Doll. You don’t know any better sometimes, I think,” he sighed as if he were deep in thought.

You never minded when Sam was condescending to you. It was a useful angle to plead your ignorance when you found yourself in a sticky situation. He couldn’t be mad at you for very long if your poor little pet brain just didn’t know any better.

“You’re right,” you concurred, playing into his vanity. “I’m so glad I have you to help me, Sam. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You hoped your appeals would be enough for him to maybe let you have something small to keep warm.

“I know, Doll.” It was an acknowledgement - one of undeniable fact - to what he didn’t know was your outright lie. You didn’t mean most of what you said to him or anyone else. You were reciting from the script in your head that kept you safest and out of the most trouble.

“Are you gonna be gone long?” you asked with a slight pout. You paired your clingy, naive farce with a pair of eager doe eyes. 

“Don’t make me feel guilty,” he tenderly reprimanded. A little self-indulgent smirk emerged at your put-on fawning. “I know you’ll miss me. I miss you, too. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You had hoped to glean an actual timeframe from him, but his vague answer would have to suffice. And just like that, you found yourself huddled in a dark, damp shed at the edge of the cabin property. You took a deep breath and sighed, reminding yourself that it could always be worse.

You shivered feebly inside the locked shed. The only light came from the cracks of the doorframe, and you didn't see how it could possibly be so cold when there was hardly a way for the air to move in and out. Your breath felt stifled in the stale atmosphere, and the silence around you was almost roaring in your ears.

There was once a time when the stillness of winter made you feel calm and tranquil. Now silence is just the intermission between the last bad thing that happened and the terrifying unknown of what was to come.

You pushed the long tangles of brown hair from your face as best you could. It had been a few days of brushing with only your fingers, and it was starting to get impassable in certain sections. You twist the frayed ends between your thumb and finger in an effort to distract yourself.

You hated your hair, but in a way you didn’t think much about it because it didn’t really feel like it belonged to you anymore. Nothing about your body belonged to you. You weren’t your own to keep and control. You were Sam’s. 

Sam wanted your hair long, so your hair was long. “There’s just something about being able to grab it all in my hands,” Sam had told you once. “Gets that pretty head of yours where I want it, quicker.”

You had just sat there and listened to him when he told you, as he ran a brush through your hair so softly after he had just disrobed and forcefully violated you. You shook your head to dispel the creeping images threatening to play in your head. You refocused your attention on your current state. Sam had left you here while the group scouted a nearby settlement that was fairly sizable from what you overheard. That probably meant easy targets like women and children, but it remained to be seen how often someone left the gates and if they were a valuable trade.

It had been months of no truly good targets, and the group seemed to be getting a bit restless. Sam didn’t like to overplay his hand, so he was more cautious than most of the men had patience for. It was usually small travel groups that offered up the ripest picks, but those were fewer in number as the weather had turned. You were usually left behind during these scouting trips, and it always made you nauseous waiting for them to return. You were always terrified that this was going to be the time Sam got hurt or killed, leaving you up for grabs. The relief that washed over you when you saw his face after a trip was never an act. You were always so grateful to see your captor and abuser instead of any other alternative.

While dragging you out this morning, Sam had done his usual ordeal about how you might get a “crazy kind of idea” like shouting a warning to potential victims, scaring them off and giving up Sam and his men’s location. 

“I know sometimes you just get silly, Doll,” he said before giving you a kiss you didn’t really return but also knew better than to reject.

“I’m sorry about last night. Just don’t make any bad choices while I’m gone,” he firmly warned. He threw a sickening sweet smile your way before closing the doors and padlocking you inside.

Doll. That’s what he always called you. It was unfortunately a very fitting term of endearment from your captor because it described exactly how he saw you: his plaything, to be used and discarded as he saw fit, his prized possession to parade around to others, not an actual person. He liked to play dress up with you, feed you, decide what you were doing and when you were doing it. 

There had been many times you tried desperately to wipe from your memory where Sam drew as large a crowd of his men as he could before showing off just how fun of a plaything you were. He reveled in the fanfare he received from them as he had his way with you. He was always extra rough with you during these little shows he liked to put on.

When it was just the two of you, he wasn’t nearly as merciless. You remember when he told you once that he was sorry for being so aggressive but it was “good for morale” and “gave the guys something to look forward to.”

Another hard shiver coursed through you, and you futilely rubbed your hands against your arms. Sam knew you wouldn’t run away in this sort of weather out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn’t make it very far even if you did manage to escape. Still, his guarantee you wouldn’t try to escape  was making sure you were very underdressed for the climate.

When he took your shoes before leaving this morning, that was just extra insurance. He liked covering all his bases, but he also liked depriving you of basic needs just so they were unmet until he decided to bestow kindness on you. If you were going to be warm again, it was going to be because Sam let you.

You sat in the dark silence of the musty shed for what seemed like hours. It was hard to tell, but it seemed like the light around the doorframe was getting dimmer. You weren’t really sure if it was the sun setting that quickly or if it was covered by a treeline or obscured some other way. You found yourself passing the time by feeling objects in the shed to see if you could guess what they were. When Sam got back and let you out of your lockup, you could see how many you had guessed correctly.

You shuffled closer to the shelving beside you and reached your hand out. You felt something smooth and hollow that got slightly brittle when you pressed into it. Maybe an old rubber hose?

You lumbered around blindly but tried not to waste too much energy and lose body heat as a result. The shirt you had on was long sleeved at least, but it was practically paper thin just like your pants. You of course were left without any undergarments. Sam liked easy access.

A scraggly, wiry object came under your fingers' inspection next. It was thin, maybe a little wider than a shoelace. It felt rough and dry when you rubbed it. Might be jute wire. Or some sort of frayed twine? You weren’t sure.

Your mind wandered as your fingers traced the shelf for anything else. A sick, selfish part of you almost wished they would bring someone back. It had been just you for the past few months, and tensions were running high, which meant you were the obvious punching bag if Sam didn’t keep a tight ship.

There was a lot of infighting, and the group overall seemed to be breaking down more and more with each passing week. Sam had a hand over his men for now, and you didn’t let yourself think about what would happen if he was ousted.

Sam did a lot of awful things to you, but he rarely hit you. It was more for the fact that he didn’t like his precious, pretty doll to look ugly, all swollen and bruised. Regardless, you were thankful for this small saving grace. His men, on the other hand, didn’t care one way or another how bad you got it.

Sam didn’t appreciate anyone messing with his property, so you were safe in that regard most of the time; however, every once in a while you would look at them the wrong way, say something they didn’t like, stay silent when you should have agreed with them, any number of insignificant things that rubbed them the wrong way. Your mind drifted to last night as you huddled closer into yourself.

Last night Sam had been so elated to make it to the cabin after a long day of travel that he helped himself to way too much liquor and passed out after spending “quality time” with you. That thankfully hadn’t lasted long because he was too drunk to stay hard. He had fallen asleep before he remembered to secure you to the bed, although he probably would’ve just let you remain untethered for the night since this cabin was in the middle of nowhere.

In all the hustle of the crew bringing supplies in and settling down, you hadn’t had food or water since dawn, and your mouth was so dry you thought it might crack. You had managed to grab a bit of snow off a branch at one point during the ride, but it was hardly any actual water and mixed with bitter pine needles.

With Sam knocked out and the crew seemingly quieting for the night, you decided to try your luck with the food supply in the hallway. If you took a few small pieces it wouldn't be noticeable. 

But Sam would be furious to know you had eaten something without his approval. You weighed the risk of waking him if you got dressed, so you decided to just venture to the doorway naked and assess the situation from there. You silently crept from Sam’s bed into the threshold of the hallway and cursed under your breath when the food wasn’t there. 

You paused to listen. You didn’t hear any muffled talking, movement, or shifting. You listened so hard you started to hear a high, faint whistle. You shook your head, deciding it was worth trying to advance.

They must have moved the food into the kitchen while they ate. You knew they had some sort of excursion tomorrow, and you weren’t sure if you would get anything before they left. You steeled yourself and snuck down the hallway, peering around the corner towards the open living room.

Most of the men were snoring softly, hats and arms covering their faces. You couldn’t make out everyone, but you did your best to get a headcount. You could account for all but three of them as asleep or drifting off. This was as good a chance as you were going to get.

You shivered as you crept into the kitchen area, your nude body responding negatively to the drafty living space. You froze in place when a loud snore erupted from the corner of the room. Everything settled again, and you steadied your breath as you made your way to some of the plates and cups of leftover food the men hadn’t finished.

You forced yourself to not guzzle the water even though you were parched. After a few minutes you had emptied a cumulative glass and a half of water. You spied some jerky on the floor someone must have dropped. Your eyes lit up, and you crawled to retrieve it from under the edge of the cabinetry.

“Who told you you could have that?” a voice sniped as a hard boot crushed your outreached fingers against the floor. You yelped in pain and flew backwards. You had gotten overzealous at the site of decent food that you hadn’t noticed one of the three men missing from your headcount had seen and accosted you.

“OUCH!” you squawked. You scrambled backwards and ignored the abrasive pull of the floor against your bare skin. You immediately realized you probably shouldn’t have responded that way with Sam being in a drunken stupor down the hall and you alone out here completely naked.

The same heavy boot kicked your shoulder, sending you crashing into the cabinets behind you. Your head barely missed the metal hardware, which would have made you losing consciousness more likely. You couldn’t afford to be anything but alert right now if you were going to make it out of a harrowing experience. You scurried towards the hallway. 

“Sam said to eat!” you lied. Your body was now fully angled towards Sam’s bedroom. You were ready to sprint to safety, but a tight grasp on your wrist coupled with a swift knock against your ankles ensured you made it only a few feet from where you had just stood.

“Fucking liar. I always hated this bitch,” the man hissed, glancing over at the handful of men who had woken from the stir and were looking on with interest. His hold on your wrist was stinging something terrible. You had already spent most of the day in restraints, so they were already red and irritated.

“You’re a liar and a dumb bitch,” he sneered. “If you were smart you would’ve done like Mae and got yourself a ticket outta here.”

 You bristled at the mention of your friend Mae’s name, and this reaction only garnered hardy laughter from the group.

“I belong to Sam!” you exclaimed as forcefully as you could muster. “I would never leave!”

It was a lie, of course, but you needed to play the hand of being Sam’s personal pet to remind the men of the consequence to bear should they hurt you.

You could see a couple of the men in your periphery standing to get a good view of you as they started to palm themselves through their pants. One had already started to stroke himself without a hint of shame. “Make her scream for us, Oz,” the one already pleasuring himself called out. There was a hardened glint in his eye when you met his gaze, and he smirked as he tugged himself more vigorously.

You heard the slap before you felt it. A loud snap of a broad hand against your chest echoed to cheers from your audience. You cried out at the pain, and you could already feel the skin welting up under your hand that had rushed to cover yourself. 

The man who had requested your scream of pain and terror chuckled a vicious, appreciative “fffuuccckkk, YES!” He spit in his hand and continued pleasuring himself to your torment.

“Come on up, boys. If Sam ain’t awake from all this noise already, I say we got ourselves enough time for some fun,” said the man crushing his fingers into your wrist.

You yanked as hard as you could against his hold, fear taking over you as several men got up and headed towards you. The vocal man made his way up quickly and struck you hard against the face with the hand he wasn’t already using to pleasure himself. You barely had time to register the contact when another blow landed on your backside. The counterblows knocked you off your feet.

You screamed for Sam, desperate for him to wake up and call off his men. 

“Let’s see if we can’t hush her up, fellas,” one of them drawled menacingly above you. You tucked your head away, trying to shield as much as you could for as long as you could. A pair of angry hands circled your neck and crushed inward. You felt like your windpipe was going to collapse permanently.

“HEYYYYYYYY. GET OFFA HEERRRRRRRR,” a muddled yell thundered from down the hallway. Everyone stopped in their tracks, and you used the opportunity to dash out of the group. “SEN’HER BACK IN’HERR,” Sam’s drunken bellow commanded.

The men grumbled at their lost entertainment. One of them spit on you before you could make it to the hallway. You didn’t stop hobbling until you made it to Sam’s room. You slammed the door shut and locked it, for good measure.

“Wha’tr doin’ wakin’me up likethisss?” Sam slurred. 

Your mind was reeling as it began to process all the new swaths of pain on your body. The sore parts of you from tonight’s earlier interaction with Sam were still fresh but had already begun fading in sensation with all the new spots your body had just acquired.

“I-I’m so s-sorry, Sam,” you apologized shakily. You trudged towards the bed, but movement was difficult as you couldn’t put too much weight on either ankle without losing your footing entirely. Your hands cupped against your face and chest where you had received the hardest blows. 

“I was just thirsty. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink the ent–” you whimpered.

“Shuddupppp,” Sam griped, rolling over in bed. He was clearly annoyed that his sleep had been interrupted. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so stupid, Sam. I’m sorry,” you repeated, calmly approaching the bed. 

When you attempted to get under the covers, Sam became even more irritated at the incessant disruptions. “Nahhh. Nooo. N’sleepin’her wih’me.”

“Sam, where am I supposed to sleep?” you begged. You were freezing and now throbbing all over your body. 

“Fllloooooor,” he droned, already sounding like he was nearly asleep again . 

You didn’t bother arguing. You crawled along the ground to gather as much of the blankets tousled off the edge of the bed. You draped the small area of fabric across your chest but had no choice but to leave your legs uncovered.

You crammed the urge to cry into the back corners of your mind. The sound of sobbing would no doubt wake Sam again, and you were already in a bad enough situation. If Sam got annoyed with you enough to kick you out of the room, you were doomed.

When morning finally came, Sam was upset that you weren’t in bed with him. When he rubbed the sleep from his eyes,  he saw what the men had done to you and became irate. He had no recollection of the night prior and how he had made you sleep on the floor because he was so annoyed with you. He fretted over every mark, bruise, and cut on you. He demanded to know if they had done anything else to you. You told him no, he had woken up in time to call them off.

“Doll, you make some stupid fucking decisions,” he snarled. 

He was angry with you. Your lip started to quiver despite your best efforts to control yourself, and you had to quickly wrap it into something that would endear Sam to you.

“I thought that… that last night they were going to take me from you,” you warbled. “I belong to you, Sam. Nobody else.”

Just as you had hoped, your words eased Sam into a more harmonious disposition. “That’s right, Doll. I’m gonna have some words with the guys before we head out this morning. Nobody touches my Doll.”

You nodded emphatically. Sam allowed himself a fond smile. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t upset with your dumb choices, Doll. But I can’t help forgiving you so easy when you’re good to me. I forgive you, even if you haven’t even said thank you to me.” 

He cocked his head to the side as though he was exasperated with your neverending shenanigans before pulling you into a hug. 

“Thank you, Sam. Thank you so much,” you muttered against his chest. 

“You’re welcome, Doll. Now get dressed while I go talk to those morons. We’ve got plans today.”

It was a few moments later that you heard Sam knocking over furniture and thundering at the men for their indiscretion. You hated how much you liked hearing him stick up for you and the sick sense of security it gave you. After all, if he were actually looking out for you, last night never would have happened. In fact, you wouldn’t be held prisoner by him at all.

So, here you sat, bruised and sore, waiting anxiously for the return of the group. You prayed it would be Sam to come get you and not anyone else. Even after his berating of the group this morning, you weren’t confident one of them wouldn’t find you locked away outside from everyone else in a nice, dark spot too good of a thing to pass up.

You shivered, but it had little to do with the cold this time. You thought of what one of them had said to you last night, about not being smart like Mae and getting out of this situation. You missed her terribly, although you didn’t begrudge her leaving you here alone. You understood, even if you wouldn’t have done it to her. At least, you’d like to think you wouldn’t have ever gotten to that point.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard trotting and voices nearing. It was too hard to tell which direction they had come from, but you thought it was the general area where the group had left from this morning. Your stomach bottomed out when you made out unfamiliar voices.

You shot up and shimmied yourself in between the door and one of the shelves, looking through the widest sliver of the doorframe. You spotted several passing strangers - some on horses, some on foot. They didn’t look like raiders, but they were entering the house and securing a perimeter nonetheless.

You tried to control your breathing in case the visible heat from your breath somehow puffed out of the crack and gave you away. One of the group turned and looked directly at the shed. Your mind was warping and playing tricks on you – probably due to the lack of food and water – because you could’ve sworn that man just looked right at you.

You shoved away from the door, feeling like you were suddenly out in the open. In your haste, you knocked over one of the large objects you had been trying to guess in the dark. You cursed to yourself over and over under your breath at your stupidity and prayed no one had heard you.

The approaching footsteps told you that you had indeed made enough noise to be discovered. You generated as much effort as you could to control your rapid inhales. Your actions became less measured as sheer terror began overwhelming your body. Sam was going to be furious with you if you allowed yourself to be caught before they got back. He would have to search for you and reclaim you, and he hated unnecessary work like that.

“Came from here,” a deep voice sounded through the walls of the shed. “Maria, keep  back ‘til I can clear it, sweetheart.”

You tucked yourself as far back into the corner as you could even though you knew you weren’t concealed. You felt like you had to do something. Sam might actually raise a hand to you over this sort of mistake. You closed your eyes as something heavy smashed against the padlock. The mess of hair spilling past your shoulders shrouded your face in a futile act of camouflage. The lock thudded to the ground, and you braced yourself for whatever was about to come through those doors.

You hated that you were already crying. Whoever was about to enter the shed was going to immediately see just how weak you are and how much of a fight you won’t put up. The doors opened, and it's as if someone hit a mute button. There’s a dull whistle noise but nothing else. Your eyes were screwed shut so tight you thought you might give yourself a worse headache than you already have, but you don’t care. You felt the floor moving from advancing feet. You tightened yourself into a ball as much as you could.

A muffled, rumbling sound ebbed and flowed around you. You chanced opening your eyes and saw a man crouched in front of you, only a couple of feet away. You couldn’t make out his face very well as the light from the open door flooded behind him, but he had curly hair that almost reached his shoulders. There’s maybe a small, dark mustache and a small patch on his chin. The sherpa from his denim jacket buoys his dark curls. His thick, gloved hand reached towards you, and you let out a blood-curdling scream so violent that the man instantly withdrew his hand and stepped back.

You grounded to a halt as though you were a statue. Your hollow, fixed eyes never left his as he retreated backwards from the shed. He called over his shoulder to someone, and you imagined the worst: a new ringleader coming to assess you. Your frozen state thawed slightly with the bewildering appearance of a woman.

She had a firm, downturned mouth but easy eyes. The rest of her is obscured as she entered the shed, but you heard her footsteps. Your hearing was coming back to you. 

“Are you badly hurt?” she asked slowly, keeping her distance as she crouched to your level. You shook your head no. The way she shifted told you she didn’t agree with your answer but wasn’t going to press you to change it. “Are there any other members of your group here?”

“Yes,” you lied, too quickly. “They are n-nearby. Just making a run. They’ll be back. And-And very soon! And when they get back I-I wouldn’t be here if I were you.”

You tried to sound as confident and intimidating as possible, but your voice crackled from the shriek you had just let out. The woman nodded, but it was obvious she wasn’t buying your claim.

“And why aren’t you with them?” she wondered. The control in her voice made you feel calmer in some odd way. It was authoritative and soothing in equal measure. “Punishment,” you croaked. You didn’t know why you were still trying to lie when you were so bad at it. “What did you do?” she pressed, starting to call  your bluff.

“Stole rations. Stole food. Took more than my share,” you rattled off. 

It was probably the most implausible reason you could have given as you knew your borderline gaunt frame wasn’t that of someone who had more than their fair share of sustenance, but you were so hungry it was hard to think of anything other than food right now. Your mouth watered at your contrived excuse as you envisioned the jerky on the floor last night that had been just out of reach.

“So, your group sees fit to punish eating too much by …” she scanned you up and down as she paused, “beating, disrobing, and isolating the offending member?”

You gulped but nodded adamantly. The woman sighed, but it wasn’t an annoyed or angry sound. It was more resigned than anything. She adjusted her squat as she moved forward a few steps, and it was then you noticed she was pregnant. Her belly took up a good amount of space between her legs as she stooped to talk with you.

“You ever think of leaving your group? Maybe for something a little less … Old Testament?” she asked delicately. You shook your head, not understanding what she meant.

“I mean have you ever thought of leaving your group to find one that doesn’t rely on beatings and torture to ensure compliance from their members?”

You blinked slowly at the reworded, blunt statement.

“Dunno,” you rasped. 

You were starting to feel like this was some sort of trap set up by Sam to test your loyalty. Maybe this was a friendly group to yours and they were just doing him a favor to see if you would leave him if you had the chance? You sat up straighter at the thought and hugged yourself tightly again.

You glanced out the door for the first time where you could make out the man who had first come into the shed. His eyes were locked on the woman in front of you, but he glanced over to you when he felt your gaze.

His face morphed into a strange expression. It almost looked like he felt sorry for you. You must be hallucinating from the lack of food because there was no such thing as sympathy out here in this world. He dropped his gaze from yours as though he couldn’t bear to take in such a tragic site. A jolt of anger coursed through you at his unsolicited pity. You blinked rapidly, your reaction catching you off guard.

“Do you want us to leave? Or would you like to come with us?” the woman offered, redirecting your attention back to her.

You shifted sides and winced at the sharp sting you had forgotten on your backside. Last night came flooding back to you along with thoughts of Sam. 

“I will stay here until I am released from punishment,” you answered curtly.

“Alright,” she conceded. “Would you care for any water or food before we go?”

You nearly jumped at her offer. “I-I. Yes.”

She smiled and stabilized herself against the shelving as she stood. “Gotta pack plenty of snacks for this little one in here.” She gently patted her pregnant belly and turned to leave the shed.

You knew you shouldn’t follow her, but the ravenous clawing in your gut pushed you to a crawl along the ground. You stopped at the doorway and hugged yourself to it. Your stomach turned when you counted at least 10 other people in her party standing by.

She appeared to be the only woman. Was she the boss? How on earth had she managed that? Everyone was giving her space instead of making her walk around them, and all she had to do was hold out her hand before someone placed what she had silently asked for, right into her palm.

You were mesmerized by her effortless control of the group. You searched the faces surrounding you, intent on gauging which appeared the most hellbent on ripping you to shreds. Much to your confusion, all that met you were expressions similar to that of the man who had first come into the shed: sadness, pity, sympathy. 

You needed to eat whatever this woman gave you so that you could start thinking straight, because none of what your eyes were telling you made any sense.

“Hope this is alright.” She meandered back over to you and put her arm against the doorframe. The tied paper bundle she presented you didn’t look like much, but you would’ve taken anything. You eyed it cautiously, only accepting and opening it after the woman gave you an encouraging nod. Your fingers shook as you untied the knot holding the pack closed.

You must have been dreaming. There were various nuts, dried fruit, and even some dried beef chips. Your eyes brimmed with tears at the feast before you. This was the most food you had seen in a single sitting for god knows how long. You glanced up at the woman, incredulous at the spread she had so freely gifted you. She nodded once more, prompting you to eat.

You probably looked like a voracious beast as you bent over the packaging and shoveled its contents into your mouth. You barely chewed because you were so anguished to have something on your stomach. The first few bites hurt a bit when they landed in your belly. It had been so long since you’d last eaten or drank, and it made your stomach sensitive.

You hadn’t noticed the woman leaving your side for a moment to fetch a glass bottle that swirled with a light brown liquid. “Apple juice,” she clarified as she extended it to you. 

You breathed a shaky laugh as you grabbed the bottle, undid the lid, and pitched the entire thing back. You loudly gulped until it was gone, and you shamelessly tapped the glass trying to get every last drop out. You licked your lips, not wanting to waste of any of what had been given to you. You weren’t sure if it was the rush of glucose, but your eyes were darting wildly around, like you were awake for the first time in days.

“You can have as much as you want, but if it’s been a while since you last ate then it’s wise to give yourself a moment to adjust to the food already on your stomach before eating anything else.” The woman eyed you with such cool composure that you believed her. You didn’t know why. You just did. Even if she ended up being a horrible person and a conniving liar, you didn’t care; your body felt a thrum of life in it in a way that you couldn’t previously recall.

“If you want to join us at our settlement for dinner, we have hot food as well,” she cautiously bid. Your gut lurched, and you didn’t know if it was because it was adjusting to the food or if you were right back to wondering if this was all some sort of trap. Something told you that Sam wouldn’t go through the trouble to do all this, and he certainly wouldn’t like someone else giving you food. You decide that, more likely than not, this was not some scheme dreamt up by your captor. “Do you have clothes for the ride?” she questioned, scanning your threadbare, thin garments.

“N'hm. Jus' this,” you admitted, feeling less inclined to lie as each moment passed. Sam had probably taken your clothes with him as some kind of weird trophy, and you didn’t want to go back into the cabin to find out.

The woman looked like she already figured that was going to be your answer. She began to shrug her jacket off, but the mustached man took a step forward. “Quit that, Maria. She can have mine,” he chided softly. “Here ya go, honey.” He held out his jacket to you, but you were too afraid to take it. He looked back quizzically to the woman named Maria, unsure of what to do.

“I’ll take it, Tommy,” she replied, grabbing the garment from his hands and helping you into it. The warmth made your eyes flutter closed for a moment. Maria made quick work of buttoning you up in it. It was a strange sensation, feeling the warmth of a man - even if it was just through his jacket - that was a comfort instead of damage.

“You don’t have any shoes either, I see,” she snipped disapprovingly, although you could tell it was reserved for the person who had rid you of them. She beckoned for her horse to be brought to the opening of the shed. “Unfortunately don’t have any of those on hand out here, but we can get you some later tonight.”

The man called Tommy shuffled side to side a few times, clearly uncomfortable with something. “Maria, let her ride with someone else,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at you apologetically.

Maria didn’t break eye contact with you as she addressed you. “You’re going to ride with me. You’re not going to try to hurt me, are you?”

Your eyes widened, and an annoying mist welled up again. “I would-I would never h-hurt you, or hurt your-” you stammered, looking down at her belly. It felt ridiculous, but you were crushed for these strangers to believe you would ever wish to harm someone like that. 

“Okay then. You’re riding rear. Think you can get a good hold with baby Miller taking up so much space?” she asked. A playful grin warmed her features, and you nodded emphatically, wanting to make a good impression since these people apparently thought you were some kind of violent monster.

Her horse paused by the shed opening, and she skillfully swung herself onto it. “You’re up next.”

You shifted your weight between your socked feet. “I dunno know h-how-I’m not sure .. how to get up like that,” you admitted. If this whole thing fell through just because you couldn’t properly mount a horse, you were going to have a complete breakdown right then and there. 

“My husband Tommy can give you a hand up if that’s okay?”

You glanced over to Tommy, who looked like he thought it was even worse of an idea than you did. You could tell he didn’t trust you. He thought you were going to hurt him or his pregnant wife.

You placed a shaky step towards him and held his gaze. 

“I w-won’t hurt her, or the, or the baby, I won’t hurt y-you… I don’t wanna hurt anyone. I don’t do. I don't do th-that. I’m not like that,” you whispered hoarsely, blinking back tears. You didn’t know what had come over you to be addressing this man so directly when you hadn’t known these people for more than 20  minutes tops. 

“I know that, honey. I know that,” he soothed, sounding slightly ashamed of himself. “Just can’t help worrying about my sweetheart and my baby.” He looked up to Maria with a fondness you had never known a man to hold for a woman. It made your chest hurt and your skin itch.

You grounded yourself in resolve. “I will, I will take your help,” you announced awkwardly. You stood completely still as you waited for Tommy to provide assistance.

“Oh. Uh, alright then.” He cleared his throat and approached your side of the horse slowly so as if to not startle you.

“If you get your footin’ on my leg then you can hold onto my shoulders and push yourself up,” he instructed softly. The way Tommy moved around you and spoke to you made it feel like he was afraid you might shatter into a million pieces.

“But you might need me to steady you on your sides. Are you gonna be okay with that?”

Your stomach nearly flung into your ribs at the mere thought of him placing his hands anywhere on you. He had evidently understood your reaction because he clarified, “You don’t have to, honey. It just might be a little hard without the extra help.” His lips set in a thin line as he nodded with encouragement. “Don’t want you fallin’ into the snow.”

You glanced up to Maria who had a patient, understanding expression. You looked back to Tommy and decided that if Maria trusted him enough to carry their child, you could trust him enough to help you onto the horse. There was also the fact that he had done nothing in the slightest to make you think he would flip a switch and turn malicious.

“I will take it. Your help,” you repeated with more confidence. Tommy nodded and crouched to the ground in front of you. He patted his bent knee, prompting you to place your foot there. You couldn’t hide your reluctance as you oafishly inched closer to him and grabbed at the fabric on his shoulders. You stalled in place except for your hands, which nervously pinched at Tommy’s shirt.

“Take your time, honey,” he eased. His mouth was pinched to one side, and his eyes were soft, compassionate. It was all so incredibly bizarre and almost made you feel even more on edge just for the fact that it was such a foreign dynamic. 

“Stop it. Looking at m-me like that,” you grumbled.

Tommy dropped his gaze, unsure of what he was conveying that was so offensive to you. Inside you were screaming at yourself. What on earth possessed you to order him around like that? And why had he even listened? 

Your disorientation was no longer a result of hunger and thirst; it was now these bewilderingly kind people treating you so … you didn’t even know the word for it. Strange was all you could think. “Sorry,” you whispered, hoisting yourself up on Tommy’s leg and veering onto the horse. Just as he had previously informed you, Tommy steadied your sides with a hold so light you wondered if he was actually doing anything at all. You bumbled your way onto the horse’s back and situated your body against Maria’s. 

“M’sorry,” you mumbled into the back of her jacket.

“Stop apologizin’, honey,” Tommy implored. “Here, wrap this around you real good.” 

He handed you a worn blanket to drape around your legs. You didn’t flinch or pull away this time, and it seemed Tommy noticed as a small smile brightened his entire face.

“I’m ridin’ beside you, sweetheart,” he informed Maria, placing a gentle kiss on her leg before mounting his own horse.

“Now we head home,” Maria said over her shoulder.

Home.

What a strange, lovely notion.

Hello, all.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my newest fic! It has been very cathartic for me to write this story, and I hope it resonates with anyone who needs healing.

Thank you for reading, especially to those who had to skip past the sensitive material section as I know this means you took a chance just opening my lil fic. I appreciate you! And to those who read this chapter in its entirety, thank you for traumatizing yourself right along with me lmao. U a real one fah dat.

I fucking love softboi!Tommy so much. We will see more of him in the future as I plan on both him and Maria playing a prominent role in this fic. I love their relationship sfm, and I’m a mushy gushy fluff slut so it’s all indulgent fodder for me.

Things WILL improve for our Feral Woman®, but these things take time. I hope you follow along her journey! 

Catch ya later,

♥Puddles♥

[theearlgreymage]

It is yet another Six Sentence Sunday, and I have only two more Sunday's until break. The freedom is close. I can taste it.

Thankfully, these last two weeks should be a breeze and I can get back in a more regular groove with writing.

Maybe.

Here's hoping at least.

Hello to the wonderful @artsyunderstudy @nausikaaa @aristocratic-otter @confused-bi-queer @rimeswithpurple and @ic3-que3n for tagging me despite my lack of posting lately. You are all amazing <3

Despite my quietness, I have been tapping away at a couple of different projects. So, enjoy six series of six sentences --

COBB Project #1

She’s been making these excursions on her own every few months. Claiming them to be for her research, but I followed her last time. I saw the supplies she took, and didn’t bring back with her. We were outside Bristol when I lost track of her. Somehow she managed to lose all her supplies and beat me back to Watford.  There’s no way she managed that on her own.  But until she’s willing to admit the truth to me, I’m on my own with finding Simon.

COBB Project #2

Coward.  It’s the last word I’ll hear from him for a while as I step into the warm sunshine. While he can technically reach me beyond the Underworld, it is a lot harder for him to do. From what I can tell, it’s not worth the effort.  Not caring whether the chlamys around my shoulder gets dirty, I collapse onto my back into the grass. Letting the sun warm my chilled skin. 

A Gift for Someone

Nothing to see here. I wonder how many other students at Watford have used this spell for elicit sexual acts. How many students have had their trousers pulled down in the middle of the Great Lawn with none of us being the wiser? Of course, this isn't the Great Lawn - it's the back table in Astronomy that I'm crouched beneath. And it's not just any student who's trousers I'm pulling down eagerly. They're Simon Snow's trousers.

Another Gift for Someone

The snap of leather against leather sends a chill down my spine. I do my best to conceal it. The click of heeled boots on the wooden floor let me know that he's walking towards me, and still I fight the urge to shiver in anticipation. But when I feel the soft brush of the collar and warm press of fingers on my throat, I can't help but shudder. "Are you going to be good for me tonight?"

Something I'm working on in secret that may or may not see the light of day

Even if I’d come to accept myself more - feel more comfortable as my own individual person - I was still hung-up on the idea of having children that weren’t mine. It became an even bigger issue after Simon admitted to wanting a child. My mind became full of the impossible; of a small child with golden skin, freckles, dark hair, curls, and light colored eyes.  We thought it impossible, and set the topic off to the side. There were plenty of other things for us to worry over. My graduation and the wedding being the top two items on the list.

Chapter 4 of Infinity in Your Chest Pocket

This time, when I spot the movement out of the bedroom window I don't hesitate to leave the room. Fuck these wraiths. I'm not spending another night alone in a room with them. Baz can complain about me following him into the woods all he wants. It's not like he's doing anything all that secretive. We both know that I know that he's a vampire - one that has apparently never tasted human blood.

Tags and Hello's to Everyone under the Cut. Please know that I am eternally excited over everyone's projects and cannot get enough of the talent you all have. Also, I officially made a gosh darn spreadsheet to keep track of people for tagging!

@aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @buffy @captain-aralias @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @ebbpettier @erzbethluna @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @foolofabookwyrm-activated @gekkoinapeartree @henreyettah @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @j-nipper-95 @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @shrekgogurt @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @upuntil6am @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[septembersummer]

DR September Mistress Daddy, I have a request..! Vamp!Gojo fic pleeeease. Idc what you do with it, just... please, uwu.

VAMP GOJO VAMP GOJO VAMP GOJO VAMP—

Winter: chapter 1

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

summary: vamp!gojo x human!reader where y/n is pretty sure her favorite regular is a vampire.

wc: 3k

cw: gojo satoru being intimidating, smut (in future chapters), a coffee shop au lmao, THIS GETS PRETTY DARK IN LATER CHAPTERS

A/N’s: i’m a sucker for twilight vampire shit and thus this is gonna be more than a one shot. hope y’all don’t mind lmao

links: Ao3, Hijiki’s Tumblr (my illustrator), discord (18+)

request/ask me anything hehe

The devil isn’t a big, scarred man in a trench coat waiting in a dark alley to steal you away, to corrupt you. He isn’t the subject of your grandparents’ fears, tattooed and pierced through every hole with a cigarette in his mouth. He isn’t mean, he isn’t cruel.

Not at first.

He doesn’t scare you, isn’t intimidating in any way that you dislike. He’s talkative, energetic, and a bit too flirty.

The devil smiles.

He smiles beautifully with rows of gleaming, white teeth the entire time he talks to you. Only a couple of them are sharper than they should be.

He’s charming, disarms you with ease, leaves you vulnerable and worse than that, comfortable in your vulnerability with him.

He comes to your coffee shop almost every morning for six months, and you get used to him as the seasons change, and he doesn’t.

He orders the worst fucking drinks you’ve ever heard of, and he grins at you while you struggle to fit that many shots of espresso in one cup, along with the horrific amount of cream and sugar that he likes.

He seems to get off on making you struggle, in a fun way that makes him your favorite regular customer.

And you’re pretty sure that his kind doesn’t even like coffee, so you used to be suspicious as to why he’s always here, but you’ve resigned yourself to thinking that he might just like the company, or that he might just like harassing you when he’s bored.

When you live that long, you’re sure to get bored eventually, right?

He’s just bored– it’s better than… any other alternative that would explain his presence here every day.

As the white-haired monster of a man with the god-awful coffee orders comes into your shop before the sun’s risen on the coldest day of Winter, you remember the way you felt the first time you ever saw him.

He looks like the season, like he was born from snow, carved out of ice and tossed into your lap to deal with.

Maybe he was– you’re not sure how their kind operates, in that regard. But you are certain of one thing, as he comes to the counter, grinning and staring at you through sunglasses that are far too dark for any normal person to reasonably be able to see through.

He’s no normal person at all, nothing close. This man is a vampire, you’re almost certain.

“Hey, sweets,” he says, smirking, always coming up with a new pet name for you when he sees you, “long time no see.”

You aren’t sure if he’s the first vampire you’ve ever met before. They’re rare in society these days, and most of them blend in well, after many of their kind opted not to produce any offspring in hopes of letting humanity flourish.

It was an apology for the way that humans were treated before the two species came to a tentative truce, like pets, sentient blood bags— the bottom of the food chain.

You wonder if this man was there for it, because if you’ve ever met a person that could be a vampire as old as time itself, it’s him.

“Mhm,” you hum in response with a small eyeroll, knowing damn well that you saw him yesterday. He’s so smiley, warm and kind, easygoing.

“And what would you like to torture me with today, Gojo?” You ask, leaning over the wooden counter in his direction.

His eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. Beautiful as always.

Other people treat him differently than you do. You’ve seen it on the days that he opts to come in later in the morning when he isn’t your only customer.

They can see it as plainly as you can, the otherness about him, and it makes them afraid of him. Openly, at that, not that he ever seems to mind when normal people move away from him with barely concealed fear in their eyes.

His only grins wider. He doesn’t have a care in the world for the way that ruddy-faced, warm-blooded people like you see him.

It’s not like he can hide what he is, nor tries to. His snowy white hair always looks perfectly messy, skin like unblemished porcelain, and if they saw his eyes– they’d faint. Try as you might, you’ve never seen the fangs.

You’ve only seen glimpses of the eyes when he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses suggestively, usually when you follow a ludicrous order especially well, but they’re so far from human. His eyelashes match his hair, perfectly white with a silvery tinge to them, but his eyes– they’re something else entirely.

“Just an iced white mocha,” he says, and his grin grows wider, wider, “extra sweet, add a little raspberry for me.”

You cock your head to the side, “That’s it? Where are the fifteen shots of espresso and hot-cold foam?”

He’s really asked you for that before, and you’ve become accustomed to your daily challenge from him. You’re pretty sure that he doesn’t even drink them, that he just takes a sip to placate you and then goes about his day, whatever he does.

It’s more like he’s just… testing you , toying with you . And for what reason? You’ll probably never know. You know nothing about him as it is.

Only his last name, and that he likes to tease.

“I don’t want anything serious today, babe,” he replies flirtatiously, the way he always does, leaning back in his chair lazily, spreading out his long legs on either side of himself.

You hum and start making a suspiciously normal raspberry white mocha, “You sick or something? I’m almost disappointed.”

Do vampires get sick? You don’t know. You won’t ask.

He chuckles, “Nah, just thought I’d give you a break for once. You’ve been good for months.”

You want to bristle at his phrasing, but you don’t show it.

It’s snowing outside, though it feels like he’s brought the Winter inside with him this time. You shiver slightly, as it feels like there’s a cold chill following you, but you ignore it like you usually do when he’s here alone with you.

When he enters the coffee shop, it feels ten times smaller, and about three times colder. It’s worse when you’re alone with him than if you’re with others, but you aren’t afraid of him in that regard.

Because, despite yourself and your best interests, you’ve become comfortable in the vulnerability of being alone here with him when it’s still dark out so early in the morning.

He’s here every day, he’s not going to do anything today that he couldn’t have done yesterday, the day before that.

And yet the human part of you feels… a little off this morning.

“It’s cold today,” you murmur, looking out the big glass windows at the front of the cafe to watch the snowfall through the warm lighting provided by the street lamp outside.

It’s still dark out, but it always is when he comes here. He still wears those small, round-rimmed sunglasses even before the sun’s risen.

Again, he doesn’t even try to hide what he is.

“Really? Didn’t notice,” he says, looking out at the snow as if it’s never occurred to him that you’d feel the cold.

He’s dressed in a black turtleneck underneath a long coat, with a silver chain around his neck. From the chain dangles a cross, almost as if to taunt you. Always dressed warmly, never seems cold.

Vampire.

You snort, “You don’t even try to hide it, huh?”

It’s the first time you’ve brought up what you both know is true. Months have passed, seasons have changed, and you’ve never acknowledged it.

But with his flirting, his jokes, his lax, carefree demeanor, you’re comfortable with him.

Maybe a little too comfortable.

“Hide what?” He murmurs playfully, and you startle out of your fucking skin.

You never saw him move, never saw him blink, but his words ghost across your earlobe, making goosebumps prickle up all over your skin.

He is warm, apparently, and you can feel said warmth radiating off his chest because he’s caging you against the counter, an arm on either side of your much smaller frame.

“What are you— G-Gojo,” you huff, trying to disguise the way your breaths fall much faster, that your heart is pounding in your chest.

He doesn’t let you move from his grasp, as you realize just how tall he is. He’s the tallest man you’ve ever met, could easily rest his chin on the top of your head, and he’d probably have to bend down to do so.

“Go on, don’t be shy,” he hums flirtatiously, “tell me what you think I am.”

He toys with a strand of your hair, looping it around his finger before letting it fall across your face. Your cheeks feel hot, and you feel bothered.

“N-Nothing,” you splutter out, suddenly nervous at this sort of teasing, “can you– go back to your side, please.”

“No.”

“Gojo,” you complain, turning around to face him, a mistake.

“Satoru,” he corrects you smoothly, now mere inches from your lips when he speaks.

He’s leaning over you, horrifyingly close, as the espresso machine finishes its job behind you rather noisily. He smells amazing, so much better than the coffee, as his eyes peer down into yours.

It’s the first time you’ve seen them without his glasses, now that he’s gone so far as to cross the forbidden boundary between the two of you.

As stupid as it seems, the little counter dividing the two of you had made you feel safe with him . It was a line that he never crossed until you crossed some forbidden line with him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean… anything,” you mumble, staring into eyes that look like they’re made of starlight and the sea, trembling.

They’re a lot better up close, a lot brighter. You feel vaguely hypnotized by him when you stare into the glacial orbs lined with thick, white lashes. Any animal planet documentary would tell you that something isn’t that beautifully colorful unless it’s deadly.

Too beautiful, too perfect, not human, and too close.

Those are all the things that he is. What Gojo isn’t is relenting.

“That’s alright, babe,” he purrs, stroking your hair, petting you, as he seems to fix his mask of aloof coolness in an instant, “just don’t make accusations like that unless you really mean it, yeah? Could be dangerous for you if it was someone other than me.”

Threatening, still grinning like a cheshire cat, though he’s a bit more reptilian up close.

“I-I didn’t mean anything. Is that— Are you threatening me?” You ask nervously, pretending it’s a joke.

It’s not.

Of course it’s a threat, and of course you’re a fucking idiot for thinking that just because this vampire’s been nice to you for months means that you’re friends.

You two are friends as much as a panther can be friends with a deer when it’s waiting for a kill, stalking it from a treetop for months, and months, and months. The panther knows its place at the top of the food chain, you’re the one that forgot your own.

“Call me Satoru,” he demands with a slight glare in your direction, rather unkind now that you’ve failed to follow his instructions, “and not unless it needs to be.”

He winks at you once in your silence, smirking, before he walks back over to the other side of the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“Keep the coffee for yourself. I know you like those.”

“Satoru– I-“

He gives you a grin and fixes his little sunglasses back on his face, but for a second when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, you could swear that they aren’t shockingly, magnificently blue anymore.

No, they’re red. Bright, vivid rubies, even more beautiful than when they’re cerulean. You don’t comment on it, you don’t say a word.

You tremble, and you take a sip of the mocha that he had you make for yourself, because it’s your favorite, and because you need to stop staring and stuttering.

He watches your lips, rewarding you with a heated glance when you listen to him well, the way that he likes. It makes you feel warm to your core, despite the fear you now feel towards him.

He really shouldn’t know what your favorite drink is, you’ve never told him, but he does.

You wish that the devil was a little more visible amongst a crowd, or that he could at least have the decency to behave like it, rather than befriend you until you’re complacent, perfectly cozy with him for whenever he decides to sink his teeth into your flesh.

You shiver once. It feels like there’s another cold draft in the room, small as it is.

Gojo gives an arrogant chuckle in your direction, “I’ll see ya later, babe.”

When he leaves, the room feels ten times larger, and your knees almost buckle.

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part I

Ahh I can’t believe it’s finally done! After a year of working on this beast, it’s finally ready for me to share. This is something I started way back last summer, and I decided to finish it as my project for this year’s @geraskierbigbang. It will be ten parts in total, and I will post one part per day until it is complete! There are several art pieces that were created by the wonderful @herostag​ and Miranda.draws for this story, which I will link when the appropriate section is posted. For a summary and further links, please see the masterpost.

Next | Ao3 | Masterpost

“Alright,” Geralt said. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Yennefer looked up at him with bright eyes, curious and already mirthful. She was sitting across from him in his quarters, reading through a tome she’d found in Kaer Morhen’s disheveled library. Geralt had just come from a bath after hours spent training Ciri in the yard, and the room was filled with the warm evening light, supplemented by the fire crackling in the hearth. Yennefer had insisted on carting dozens of tapestries and drapes to hang around the drafty keep, and the room was nearly stuffy with their bulk keeping the heat in.

Yennefer gave him an amused smirk. “I will make no such promises before I even know what you’re going to say.” The gentle teasing brought a fond smile to Geralt’s face. After the events of the mountain all those years ago, things had been understandably tense. Yennefer had been reluctant to join them when she had finally met up with Geralt after Sodden, but had eventually agreed to seek refuge in the witchers’ keep and teach Ciri to control her magic. Once she’d met the girl it had all been a wash; it was clear as soon as their eyes met across the room that Yennefer was as much a part of Ciri’s destiny as Geralt was.

Geralt had expected that to either mend the rift between them enough for things to go back to the way things were, or make things even more awkward. Instead, they found themselves in a sort of in-between. Over the years his affection for Yennefer had only grown, but he found himself looking to her more and more as a friend—maybe his best friend. After Jaskier, of course.

Speaking of. “I was thinking about Jaskier.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes obviously. “As you are so frequently wont to do. The thaw will come soon enough, dear, and you can run off in search of your bard.”

Geralt felt his ears grow warm. Witchers couldn’t blush, not truly, but he still felt the tingle of it as he fidgeted with embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, absently tracing a finger against the grain of the wooden table. There were two goblets of wine sitting between them, but so far neither of them had begun to drink. “Do you know how many winters it’s been since I found Ciri?”

If she was confused by the odd turn in subject matter, Yennefer didn’t show it. Instead she looked thoughtful. “Two, perhaps three? You know I don’t follow the seasons with diligence.”

“Neither do I,” Geralt agreed. “I was thinking the same though, two or three years since the fall of Cintra. Which means Jaskier is…” He paused, trying to do the math. “He was a few years past forty, during the dragon hunt, I think. He must be closer to fifty now than not.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him. “I recall mentioning something about his crows feet. What of it? Humans age. Are you only just discovering this?”

Geralt forced himself not to grumble. In a way, he was only discovering it. He’d known humans across the years, of course, and knew that many that he’d once been acquainted with were no longer alive or were in their twilight years. For decades Geralt had wandered through the world, changing no more than a ghost would, touching the lives of regular mortals for a brief instance, maybe a few times if they were particularly unlucky. No one had stayed by his side, dedicated themselves to a relationship with him, the way that the bard had. The amount of devotion that Jaskier showed to him had made Geralt antsy, in earlier years, and then confused and angry by turn. He had hated the idea of someone needing him, had hated needing someone in return. The way his chest felt heavy when he and Jaskier parted ways had left him furious with himself and the bard.

And then Ciri came into his life, and everything had changed so quickly.

With Ciri, it didn’t matter whether Geralt felt like he should care for her, or if he wanted to. He needed to. Without him, the girl would die, or be kidnapped by Nilfgaard for who knows what purpose. He had to feed her, and clothe her, and teach her, and he had to love her for her to thrive.

She made it very easy. It was only afterwards that he realized how much of an idiot he’d been to Jaskier, and the thought of how he’d treated the bard over the years had plagued him. It had been months before he could find him to apologize, but Jaskier forgave him almost immediately—which Geralt found both relieving and infuriating at the same time. This was the first winter they’d spent apart since. Geralt left the keep more rarely now, heading out on the Path only when the months grew truly warm and returning at the first hint of falling leaves. Ciri was safe on her own, he knew, but he missed her when he was away. And he could admit now that one of the forces driving him back into the world over the last few years had been the itching desire to find Jaskier again and settle the yearning in his chest for another year. He was less inclined to venture forth when his bard, his daughter, Yennefer and his brothers were all in one place.

This winter Jaskier had begged off, saying that he had “work in the south,” which could mean anything from spending a decadent winter in the court of some noble or sludging through the front lines as a Redanian spy. Geralt had learned not to pry too deeply into Jaskier’s business when he wasn’t around. It was often either too explicit for him to stomach or too confidential for Jaskier to share freely.

It worried him, being away from the bard for so long. He could get hurt, or captured by Nilfgaard, or worse. But what really terrified Geralt was the idea that he would find Jaskier in a tavern along the Path and realize that the bard had grown old, to find silver in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes. “He’s getting too old,” Geralt said to Yennefer, who looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You must have known when you started travelling with him that he would eventually leave you,” Yennefer said, not unkindly. “Humans are so short lived.”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice about becoming his muse,” Geralt said with a huff. Despite his improved relationship with Jaskier over the past few years, he still found it difficult to admit that he had always been more than willing to let the bard tag along. If he’d wanted to travel alone, he would have. But he never had. “I just didn’t realize…”

“It always comes sooner than you think it will,” Yennefer sighed. She set her book aside and picked up her goblet of wine, turning to look out the large window their table sat in front of. It faced west out of the keep wall, towards the mountains and the forest beyond. The sun had set below the craggy peaks, throwing the snow covered valley below into darkness. Geralt could just make out the ruins of the old tower, its stones dark against the white landscape. “You can’t cure his mortality, Geralt.”

“We did.”

The look that Yennefer gave him was sharp, almost angry. The firelight in the room turned her violet eyes darker, like mulberry wine. “At great cost,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine you would put him through the Trials.”

A stab of panic shot through his gut at the thought. “No. Of course not. He wouldn’t survive it anyways. Only children stand a chance at all.”

Yennefer nodded, apparently satisfied that Geralt hadn’t completely lost his mind. “The boy hasn’t got an ounce of Chaos in him, in spite of his rather chaotic nature, so I highly doubt they’ll accept him as a late trainee at Ban Ard.”

“There must be other ways,” Geralt said, feeling petulant. “Less conventional.”

“I cannot believe we are actually discussing this,” Yennefer said, rising to her feet. She picked up her book from the table as well as her glass. “There is no way to achieve immortality, especially not without sacrifice. You know that, Geralt. Drop this foolish line of thought.”

Geralt rose after her, reaching out to catch her retreating wrist. A grasp loose enough that she could break it, if she wanted, but Yennefer paused. “Please, Yen. Just… look into it for me? I can’t—the thought of—” He cut himself off, dropping his hand away from her arm. The look she gave him was more pitying than he would have liked.

“I’ll do some research, but nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up, Geralt. There’s a reason there are so few of us,” she said. Her face softened slightly, as much as it ever did. Despite Ciri, Yennefer was still made of more glass and fire than anything else. “I know you love him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. I promise, I will do my best.”

Geralt nodded wordlessly as she left and wondered if Jaskier's eyes would be as bright next time he saw him.

*

For weeks Yennefer said nothing about his request, and Geralt refocused on spending time with Ciri and preparing to depart for the spring. Lambert and Eskel had already left a month before, as soon as the road down the mountain began to thaw, but Geralt had hung back. The roof needed repairs, a difficult job to do in the midst of winter, and it was a hard task to leave for Vesemir alone. It was always like this, now—him looking for odd jobs to keep him at Kaer Morhen, with Ciri, making excuses until Jaskier’s jitteriness or Vesemir’s raised eyebrows forced them on the road again. Some of that was mitigated this season by the silence he heard when he found himself listening for the sounds of lute strings strumming gently in the background, and Geralt’s increasing anxiety about Jaskier’s wellbeing. Even so, it was hard to leave Ciri behind.

The girl was progressing rapidly as she entered her teen years, the chubbiness of her youth morphing into lean if awkward muscle as she continued to work on her swordsmanship. When Geralt and his brothers weren’t pushing her through drills, she was studying monsters and alchemy with Vesemir, or practicing her magic with Yen. She never seemed to tire, eagerly absorbing any lessons passed on to her and desperate to prove her worth. The only person she seemed to let her guard down around was Geralt, who found himself often goading her into mock wrestling matches (which he refused to throw on principle) and humoring her when she became restless and wanted to explore beyond the keep. Kaer Morhen was dangerous in the winter, but as spring approached and the deep snows on the surrounding mountains began to thaw, the duo spent more and more time trekking through old ruins and sleeping beneath the stars.

He could put off his journey south no longer.

“I’m going to be fine, Geralt,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if he’d been this petulant as a teenager. Certainly Lambert had. “I can take care of myself, and Yen will be with me.”

Geralt tapped her wooden training sword with his own, indicating that she should prepare to go again. When he was a boy he’d trained against the other foundlings, stumbling around like pups through drills and sparring matches. Ciri trained against full witchers, and only Eskel ever faked a misstep here or there to allow her to get in a good hit. When she won a fight for the first time, it would be on her own merit.

The girl raised her sword into a decent fighting stance, and Geralt moved to correct her footwork. Her sword work was exceptional above the belt, but she consistently forgot her stances, throwing herself off balance. They’d begun putting her on the pendulums to force her to focus, dancing between posts to attack the dummies. Geralt had spent many a night rubbing salve into her bruised shoulders, gained from taking fall after fall from the low poles. No one forced her, but if there was one thing Ciri hated, it was admitting to weakness in herself. “Sword up,” Geralt said, and launched into his attack.

He stayed on the offense, forcing her to practice the defensive drills they’d started going over recently. “I know you’ll be fine,” he said, continuing their conversation. His breathing was relaxed, almost meditative through the slow exchange of blows. “Just seems cruel to leave you with only the old man and Yennefer for company.”

Ciri giggled despite herself, and Geralt found himself grinning back before he smacked her lightly in the ribs with the training sword. She swore—Lambert, Geralt thought with chagrin—and danced back a few paces. “Gotta focus,” he said, still smirking at her.

She poked her tongue out at him childishly and reposted off of one of his blocked attacks. He easily swayed out of the way, but the movement was fluid and smooth, which meant someday it would be fast, faster than he could dodge. He gave an encouraging nod.

They continued to spar for another half an hour or so before breaking, heading to the well to fill their water pouches. Geralt sat on the short ring of stones and Ciri slumped on the ground beside him, leaning against his leg. The simple trust and familiarity she exhibited around him still took him by surprise, sometimes. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of her head. Her hair was almost as white as his.

She sighed, wiping dripping water from her chin as she tossed her water pouch down. “I figured,” she said. “Say hello to Jaskier for me, when you find him? I missed his songs this time.”

Geralt’s caress turned into a playful ruffle. “I will. Any requests for books?”

“Ones about Elves,” she said immediately, “and Skelligan alchemy. It’s different from ours, did you know? The Druids—”

Geralt chuckled. “I know. You’ve said half a dozen times. No fairytales this time?”

The girl hummed, reminding him for a brief and touching moment of himself. “Just bring Jaskier back. He tells about your adventures so much better than you do.”

“He’s certainly made a career out of it,” Geralt grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’ll do my best. You know how he is.”

“You missed him too,” she said, hitting his knee with one closed fist. “I know you did. You get all…Well, more grumbly and mopey than usual, when he’s not around.” She wrinkled her nose up at him in exaggerated disgust. “It’s gross. But I do want you to be happy.”

Geralt knocked back against her gently with his knee, swallowing around the feelings that rose in his throat. “You just think I’m a boring old man who won’t help you put toads in Eskel’s bed. But you never even ask. I’m the expert, not Jaskier.”

Ciri laughed, bright and crisp in the morning air, and Geralt felt warm despite the fading winter chill. Tomorrow he would leave, and he would find Jaskier, and next winter he would tell Jaskier that he had to stay at Kaer Morhen. For Ciri, if nothing else. And if it was more for Geralt’s sake than anything, well, no one had to know.

*

Yennefer found him before he left, saddling Roach in the stables.

“Go to Triss,” she said by way of a greeting. Geralt knew what she meant by the gravity in her tone and the tension sitting in the corners of her mouth. “Ask after Ida. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll speak with you, but a Sage is the only one that might be able to give you anything.”

Geralt reached out to grasp her hand firmly in his own. “Thank you, Yen,” he said honestly.

The sorceress sniffed. “Well, you owe me one, I suppose. I hope you find what you're looking for. But be careful.”

“I won’t do anything that might put him in harm’s way,” he promised. “I swear it.”

“Good.” She gave him a slight smile before leaning in to brush a kiss over his rough cheek. The simple touch warmed him from inside out. “Say hello to the bard for me. Tell him I heard about that disastrous competition in Vizima. Ought to have him stewing for a good long while.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him your love as always.”

“Goodbye, Geralt,” she said, patting his arm lightly. “Be safe. You know how to reach me, if you have need.”

“I do,” he said. “I will. Take care of Ciri.”

“It’s more the other way around, I’m afraid,” she said with a soft smile, and Geralt understood exactly what she meant. Ciri had saved them both, in more ways than one. Every time he left her was more painful than the last. Someday, he knew, they might travel the Path together, a witcher, a sorceress and their daughter. Maybe even a bard, if he was extremely lucky.

Geralt hoped he would be.

[frenziedslashers]

×VSC×

Can I ask for Bubba Sawyer please with a male reader or trans masc reader?

What if like you ran away with him so he could start a new life with you? Just kinda packing up at midnight and taking a car you stole to run away from the bad life he was put in and start a new one with you.

Image if y'all live somewhere colder now 😭😭 Bubba in winter clothes mesmerized by the snow ekdhdkeldh

I just love him and wanna give him a better life 😔

×Vexelier×

AHHHHH- you did send another but tbh dw about it. Send all the thoughts you have 🤭💕 your brain is absolutely sjdjjss IMMACULATE- This idea is so cute 😭😭 thank you sm for sending me it, honored tbh

Running away and starting a new life with Bubba Sawyer:

It wasn't a spur of a moment thing, this was planned. Grandpa and his brothers seemed to treat him worse now that he had you in his life. Claiming that you weren't "right." This wasn't about your gender change, but more so the fact that you were a man and Bubba was, too. That they weren't accepting of the fact that their sibling, or grandson was in relations with a man.

They would shun him for this, even yell. Make comments that upset you both. They didn't care if it hurt you two, they wanted you gone more than anything. You were ruining their 'normalcy.' Even if their life was anything but normal. So, you convinced Bubba he needed to get out of there. To run away with you, since he wouldn't let you leave by yourself.

You had been driving for what felt like hours. Taking one of the cars a victim left. Storing away some of their money, not a lot so it didn't look suspicious, but a bit from each victim. Enough to get out of that hellhole.

You looked over to Bubba, who was staring out the passenger side window. He looked scared, but also.. relieved? Maybe even a little excited, too. He had never left home before. He had never really been outside of his town even.

"You alrigh', lovie?" You asked, putting a hand over his own. The man looking down, then back to you with a nod and a small smile.

He wasn't wearing his regular mask anymore, you had made him one that wasn't out of human flesh. Wanting to forget about that life. Leave it in the dust, along with his family.

"We're almost there, promise." You smiled, squeezing his hand, which he squeezed back with a thrilled grin. His excitement showing, now. You wouldn't say where you guys were running to, but it was thrilling for him.

It took another day to finally get to the area you wanted to be. Moving halfway across the country to a friend's place. You had called, somehow remembering their number. Discovering they still lived in the same place you remembered last. "Yeah, of course you two can come crash here! Are you both alright?" She was concerned for you both. Which made you relieved.

The moment you both got there Bubba was in amazement. He hadn't understood why you used some of the money to get you both sweaters, but now it made sense! It was so cold outside. He could see his breath! This was mind blowing for him, was this even normal? He only ever saw this on really hot days. When they would open the deep freeze and a wave of fog would roll out.

It had you giggling at how he just stood there. Mezmerized by the clouds he was making from his breath. "Bubba, let's get inside, it's cold out." You commented. Kissing his cheek with a hum. Taking his hand to lead him inside the house.

He nodded, following you inside the house in awe. He'd never been to a house this- nice? It smelt clean. It didn't have the rotting stench of blood and meat. It didn't look dirty, or gross. It was bright and homey. The man smiling and practically vibrating as he stood in the doorway.

"Hey guys!" Your friend shouted with a grin. Running over to embrace you in a quick hug. Bubba smiling with a small wave. You had warned your friend about his mask, how he was insecure due to how his family treated him. She understood, it was more heartbreaking than anything.

"You must be Bubba, I've heard a lot about you," it made his stomach flutter at the thought of you talking about him to others. He nodded, waving shyly, again.

You were both able to shower and clean up that night. Laying in a freshly made. And comfortable bed. This was nice, new.

Morning came around and you woke up before Bubba. Sneaking into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Which left Bubba alone, cold. Stirring awake in a panic. You weren't by his side anymore, did you leave?

You heard him moving around, panicked noises leaving your lovers lips. Moving back into the room rather quickly.

"Bubba, it's okay! I'm right here," you spoke gently. Holding his face with care. The Goliath of a man looking up to you from his seat on the bed with worried eyes.

"Bubba, I'd never leave you," you pecked his nose with a grin. "Love you too much," he hummed at that. Wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

You had seen the snow falling out the window before you went to the bathroom. Smiling mischievously down at your lover. "Wanna go outside with me?" You asked, the brunette smiling with a nod. Of course he did, he wanted to do everything with you.

Your friend let you borrow some of their boyfriends jackets and hoodies. He wasn't home, but he didn't mind any. Understanding the situation enough to care. They weren't heavy, so you didn't plan to stay outside long, but you just wanted to see his reaction to the new weather.

It was almost instant. The moment the door opened his eyes got wide. The wind bit and nipped at the skin on his face. Taking your hand with a bit of worry. Was this normal?

You chuckled, tugging him forward. "C'mon, big guy! It won't hurt ya, promise. Look!" You encouraged him. Reaching down to pick up some of the snow.

It was amazing, really. The white that now surrounded everything around you two. The way it crunched under his shoes. Giggling as he reached down to pick it up. It was so cold, and it melted! Oh it was a new feeling for sure, it was like if ice and sand were mushed together.

"What do you think?" You asked, taking his hand in yours again. "Wanna make a snow angel with me?" He nodded once, twice. He wasn't sure what a snow angel was, but it sounded fun.

You laid down, motioning for him to do the same. Then you started moving your arms and legs. Bubba doing the same with you. Bathing of you laughing like a couple of idiots. Sitting up and standing, you helped pull him up. Showing him what the two of you created.

He was so happy, he'd never felt more free. This was so fun, so relieving that he could do such domestic things without the fear of a victim or his family ruining it for him.

"Now c'mon, Bubba, let's go back in before we catch a cold." As much as he loved this new feeling of the snow. He wasn't too entirely fond of the feeling of the cold.

[majimemegoro]

frozen roar but it’s the full game

who WOULDNT want to play that?? main plot is basically the mountain village storyline as it exists in canon, but with a lot more details. there are many real animated cutscenes! including Of Course mr okdueras exposé is gorgeously animated.

gameplay mechanics!

the map is way bigger, for the village as well as the mountain. you can go inside nishina’s and sakurai’s houses for instance. on the mountain new locations include: a bigger ice cave with ice stalactites, a big birch grove, one very nice clearing, you can go in the bottom of the gorge, you can explore yama-oroshi’s den. you can go off-trail! theres more game there but its more dangerous.

you can go/fall in the river and theres idk clams in there or something, and sometimes very rare stuff...! but it drains your health really really fast. when you get out frost goes on your clothes for awhile.

more variety of plants and game, including birds! there are also serow, and if you shoot them you get charged with a fine for illegal hunting cursed by the mountain gods.

HUNTING DOG mechanic !!!!! you get an akita and you can pick its color and name it and stuff! you can give it treats and pat it, and it can help you when youre hunting :)

saejima has more outfits and gear that you can equip to get different stats and looks, like in horizon zero dawn. he can wear the santa suit, theres a bunch of different coat ensembles, theres proper winter camo. when you beat mr okudera’s rifle test substory you get a traditional matagi outfit you can equip.

different times of day! theres daytime, dusk, and nighttime! you can get different game at different times of day, like some birds are nocturnal or something! the mountain is more dangerous at night. maybe there are also ghosts!

weather conditions can also change! theres regular snowing, no snowing, and occasionally a bizzard. you lose health more quickly in a blizzard but certain substories or whatever can only be activated under the right weather conditinos and at the right time of day.

you can climb some trees and shoot from there

you can bring different companions on the mountain with you whenever you please. the companions are mr okudera, baba, sakurai, and idk saejimas hostess or something hahahahaha

not sure precisely how this would work but, smoe kind of thing where you find random stuff that slowly helps flesh out mr okduera’s backstory? like you find an old letter to sato kiyoshi, or an old newspaper clipping of a yakuza named okudera getting marked for death, stuff like that.

some kind of cooking minigame! also a wood carving minigame! maybe wood chopping too!

ive said if before but. flashback campaign where you play as mr okudera during The Event. cutscenes for this one go into way more detail and reveal where and how mr okudera wasn’t quite honest when he explained to saejima et al what went down! also gorgeously animated.

substories !!!!!!

something is scaring all the game away!! has yama-oroshi returned??? nope turns out sakurai’s new TV is malfunctioning and sending out bad sounds at a wavelength humans cant hear. punch the tv.

something where nishina kimiyo-san gets to do something bc shes cool.

I Need a story that results in cutscene where saejima and okudera (baba optional) get drunk together. its a matagi tradition after a hunt!! the bangin minibar is right there!! lets actually use it please !!

a baba hunting substory thats REALLY heavy-handed with the hints that baba is a hitman. saejima picks up on nothing of course. there are some really well done, tender yet bitter, dramatic irony bits in this one. like im imagining idk saejima saves baba from drowning in the frozen river or something and baba is obviously Very cut up about how much hes coming to care for saejima and saejima is just. ‘dont worry baba-chan I’ll always be there to help you out” and babas like. Thats the PROBLEm i have inner TURMOIL bc of it. very nice cutscenes.

Actual Ghost substory. not ever quite made clear whether its mr okuderas hunting partner.

something with ainu representation. its a farce that theres no ainu representation in y5 as it stands.

these poor bear cubs.... no one to take care of them! can mr oduera get over his grudge against bears in order to help

participate in a regular matagi group hunt with nishina and the others! lots of facts and terminology about matagi in this one. (mr okudera is not in this substory because he refuses to group hunt with the other villagers)

an assassin comes to get mr okudera !! or maybe its just a person who acts sketchy by accident.

actually lets have both of those substories lol ^ make it a running gag. the last one has an Amon show up, of the sniper variety. this dude found out sato kiyoshi is still alive and wants to defeat him and claim his title as the worlds greatest sniper.

the doggie is introduced with a substory of course :)

another bit where mr okuera gets hurt and saejima has to rescue him because that happening 3+ times in the main plot wasnt enough. this one is kinda wry and self-aware though. mr okduera is very cranky about it. theres a pun idk.

Return of the Wolf !

something with that tanner guy gonsuke or whatever because he was so funny lol. maybe hes scamming people with too-high prices, and saejima has to remind him of the importance of fostering a techne for its own sake, and that reputation will adhere to the artisan of quality without the need for boasting.

tendo

this is a spoiler for one of my WIPs but whatever. post-main-plot substory where mr okudera is acting really sketchy and keeps sneaking out to go hunting on his own, also seems very solemn and depresed. turns out hes rummaging through yama-oroshi’s lair looking for any old remains that might be human, so that he can finally lay all of his hunting parnter’s body parts to rest :)

im gonna just post this but i think im forgetting a bunch, may add later

PLEASE think of some ideas and share them :D

[leossmoonn]

Unexpected Love [Kai Parker] || Part Two

masterlist | part one

pairing - kai parker x fem, human!reader

type - fluff, angst

note - read the first part, this cannot be read as a standalone! if you have read the first part then welcome back, thank you for reading the second part. so this part will be more focused on kai and the readers relationship and definitely all fiction lol (aka no actual scenes from the show) :) and part 3 is at the end!

summary - you and kai fall in love over a period of time after spending time with each other in the prison world

warnings / includes - language, alcohol, crying, fighting, mention/thinking of suicide, family trauma, lot of flirting in this one, suggestive, f/f = favorite flavour (of ice cream) lol

————

*gif isn't mine* (ugh hes so fine im dying)

I sat up straight and gasped, my eyes flying right open. I looked around frantically, sharp pain shooting right through my chest. 

“Ow,” I whined, pressing my hand gently to my side. 

“Oh, yeah. The first time you die here, it’ll hurt. I bet it’s not any different from what that ring does for you, though,” Kai’s voice ringed next to me. 

My head snapped to him, memories of what he did to me flooding back. 

“Get away from me!” I shouted, getting up out of the bed I was in. 

“I did you a favour, Y/n. You should thank me!” He exclaimed. 

“What favour! You robbed me of my only chance of getting home. Now we have no magic and the ascendent is broken!” 

“Stop shouting. Ugh, you’re giving me a headache,” he whined. 

I gave him a death glare. “You’re the one with the headache. You’re the one- I just… I’m going for a walk.”

I stomped out of the room, running down the stairs. I heard Kai’s footsteps from behind me. I walked as fast as I could without feeling any pain. Kai seemed to be full on sprinting, though, because he grabbed my wrist. 

“Let me go!” I exclaimed. “Please, Y/n. I’m sorry,” Kai pleaded.

I jerked my body away from him. “Shove it, Malachai. If you want me to forgive you, then you better leave me alone right now.”

He looked at me with wide, fearful eyes. I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I turned on my heel and made my way out of the house and back to the woods. I stomped the whole way there, my hands balled in tight fists. My fingernails dug into my skin as tears stained my cheeks. I just could not believe Kai. I knew he was a sociopath and a dick, but I didn’t think he would try to rob me of my chance at happiness. It was stupid how I thought he would even think about someone else and not himself. Sometimes he made it seem like he did care, though. It also seemed as my attraction to him from the first time we met was still there. I needed to get rid of it. I needed to find a way to get out here. Without Kai. 

I stopped walking as I realised I was deep in the woods. The cool breeze flew around me, calming me down. I closed my eyes and breathed out the air that I had been holding in. I opened my eyes to stare at the sky. It was a cloudless afternoon with bright sunshine. It was always like this. For the past few months this was all I had seen. I was more than sick of it. I wanted rain. Snow. Hail. Anything else but the sunshine for once. 

I released my hands from their fists, reaching my right hand up to my side where Bonnie’s jacket still was. I let out a strangled, but happy sound. I unwrapped it from my body, seeing that it had a huge red blood spot that was mine. I ignored it and held it up to my face, hugging it closely to my chest. 

“I’m getting out of here. I’m going home,” I promised to myself. 

I stayed in the woods until the sun started to set. I spent my time walking around some more, making up a plan. I knew how the ascendent looked before it was broken, and I was sure that Bonnie’s grimoire, that was thankfully still here, had a diagram of some sort, too. I could just build it back up. I took a shop class in high school and used to build cars with my dad, so I was quite the mechanic. Getting it to work without magic was the hard part, though. I needed a Bennett witch to access the spell. I knew Kai still had some of Bonnie’s magic in him, but I couldn’t risk telling him the plan and having it work, only for him to leave me here again. Plus, it’s not like having him use Bonnie’s magic would actually work. He wasn't actually a Bennett. He just happened to have her magic in him. 

I opened the door and stepped into the Salvatore house, looking around for Kai. I smiled, relieved that I couldn’t spot him anywhere. I shut the door behind me, kicking off my shoes and going to the liquor cabinet, popping off the top of a bottle of whiskey. I didn’t bother with a cup, I just downed it straight. The liquor burned my throat as I strutted to the kitchen, going over to the CD player and putting on Toni Braxton’s ‘Another Sad Love Song’.  

I danced around and got out the ingredients for a strawberry cake. As Toni’s song came to an end, I heard the front door open. I groaned loudly, my mood dropping immediately. I left the kitchen to see what Kai was up to. I laughed incredulously as I saw him carrying multiple duffle bags and a backpack. 

“Are you seriously moving in?” I asked. 

“Yep,” he nodded. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand? Do I need to spell it out for you so it can get through your thick skull?” I snapped, taking ahold of his arm and dragging him back to the front door. 

“I understand!” He exclaimed. “Good. Then you’ll get out,” I sneered, pushing him out the door. I went to shut it, but his arm held the door open.

“I will smash your hand in this door,” I threatened.

“Yeah, I know, but hear me out. I can help you get back,” Kai said. 

I scoffed, “I don’t want nor need your help. Get out.” I pushed the door further in his face. He dropped his bags and used both hands to keep it open. 

“I know you don’t trust me and you have no reason to, but please. I still have Bonnie’s magic in me and I can fix the ascendent with her magic,” he begged. He pouted and put on his puppy dog face.

“No,” I said without any hesitation. “You get out of my life, okay? If I ever see you, hear you, or even smell you, you’re dead, okay?”

His eyes then filled with anger and frustration. “Fine!” He exclaimed. “You know, I only even wanted to help you because I want to get out of here. We both know that I would have only left you here alone.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, then,” I smiled sourly. “See you never.” And with that, I slammed the door in his face. 

I sighed deeply, smiling in satisfaction. I went back to the kitchen and resumed my cake making. 

A few hours later and I was finishing the last pieces of cake, and watching Forrest Gump.

“Life is like a box of chocolates, huh,” I muttered. “First I’m a regular girl with human friends and a family. And now I’m a girl who who has no family, vampires, werewolves, and witches for friends, and who is stuck in a never-ending prison world!”

I rolled my head around the couch ledge, my eyes looking out the window. It was pitch black now. The stars were shining brightly, many of them twinkling. 

“Mom, Dad, Jenny, Andrew. Bonnie and Damon. If you’re out there, please help me. Send someone or something. I-I can’t do this alone, and I definitely don’t want Kai’s help. Please help me,” I cried out. I hugged a couch pillow and Bonnie’s jacket. 

I hope someone could hear me up there. Otherwise I was screwed.

————

3 months later and I was still stuck in this hell-hole. Well, at least I think it had been 3 months. Ever since Kai kept me here, I had been counting the days. It had been approximately 90 days, give or take. I was beginning to think this was actually my own personal instead of Kai’s. 

Speaking of Kai, he actually had been pretty good of avoiding me. In these 90 days, I have only ran into him twice. Once was while I was going for a morning jog and the other was when I was venturing into town, walking to the Mystic Grill and all the shops. During my stay, I have also been documenting my days with an old video camera I found. I knew that I would get out, but just in case, I would be able to have all those memories saved and if I died somehow and never came back and someone else got trapped here, they could see the glamorous life of Y/n L/n. Or what was left of it at least. 

Today was going to be different, though. For the past few months, I had been sitting in my bedroom for most of the week, crying, talking to myself, screaming at the world. I had even considered killing myself once or twice, but I knew that I would only wake up in more pain and sadness. Every day I prayed and hoped for someone to come and find me. For my friends to find out a way to get to me, even though they didn’t have the ascendent or anything. It seems as more days past, the less and less hopeful I got, though. So, I decided that the only way I was getting out of here was to do it myself, regardless if I wasn’t a magical being. 

And so right now, I was trying to build the ascendent. I was almost there, actually. It was just these little parts that were so frustrating to put back together. 

“Go together, dammit!” I exclaimed out of frustration. 

I put the device down, running my hands over my face, thinking of a solution.  Maybe I should ask Kai for help. 

No. That would only end up with me screaming at him the whole time and potentially killing him. 

But he probably still had some go Bonnie’s magic left. He could help me get out. And plus, I could just push him away last minute when we go through the portal. 

I groaned out of annoyance. I didn’t know what the right answer was. I thought I did. I thought I could do this by myself. But it turns out I can’t. It’s a lot harder than I thought and the fact that I’m a human doesn’t help either. I bit my lip in thought, racking my brain for an answer. 

“You have to ask him to help, Y/n. It’s the only way,” I sighed to myself. 

I got up from my seat and put on my shoes and jacket. I went out of the house and got into Damon’s Chevy, driving it to Kai’s house. I clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white as I parked in his driveway. Just the thought of seeing him made my stomach churn. Thing was, I didn’t quite know if it churned in a good way or bad. 

I stepped out of the car, putting the keys in my jacket pocket. I walked up to the door and gave it a good 3 knocks. A waited a few minutes, but no answer. I knocked a few more times and waited another few minutes. Still no answer. 

“Seriously?!” I whined, raising my hand to pound on the door, but Kai’s voice stopped me. 

“What are you doing here?” 

I turned around and saw him carrying grocery bags. 

“Oh. Good, you’re here,” I said, stepping down from his porch. 

“You never answered my question. What are you doing here?” He asked. 

“I need your help,” I confessed. 

His lips upturned into a smile. He let out a laugh. “Wow. Princess Y/n has gotten over her pride, huh?”

“And sociopathic Parker still harasses me with nicknames, huh?”

Kai frowned and walked up to the porch, passing by me and unlocking his house. 

“Sorry,” I sighed, following him into his house. “Will you please help me?”

“Hm, let me think about it,” he said, setting the grocery bags down. “No.”

I rolled my eyes. “C’mon! You barely thought about it. Why not?”

“Because I hate you,” he shrugged. “Why? What have I done to you?” I scoffed.

“Well, first of all you slammed a door in my face. Second, whenever we run into each other, you act like I murdered your whole family. And third, you denied my help before, but now you want it?  I think not,” he explained. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I really, really am, but I know for a fact that you want to get out. I want to, too! But I’ve learned that we can’t get out without each other. I’m sorry I let my pride take over me. So please help me,” I begged and apologised. 

Kai grinned at me. “I love this.” “Love what?” I asked. 

“I love seeing you beg,” he said, his voice dropping low. He started to walk towards me slowly. Stalking me like I was his prey. 

I backed away from him, my eyes trained on him. I let out a huff as my back hit a wall. My eyes widened and stared into his menacing eyes. 

“I love seeing you beg for me. Begging for my help like the helpless little human you are,” he muttered. 

He arms went around your sides, trapping in-between him and the wall. I breathed out heavily and shakily, averting my eyes. 

“I’m not helpless,” I protested. He smirked down at him, his eyes lighting up. “You sure about that, princess?”

The way he stressed my pet name set my fire to my heart, and set my stomach flipping. He head hung low. So low that I could fell his breath on my lips. I felt his knee nudge my thigh and that’s when I stopped breathing. I could fell myself slowly melting into a puddle right in front of him.  

“You gonna answer me, sweetheart, or are you just gonna stand there gawking at me?” He chuckled. 

I swallowed hard. “N-No.”

“Then answer me,” he teased me. “Y-Yeah… I’m sure about that,” I whispered. 

He hummed in reply. I let my eyes roam his face and set on his lips. 

“Offer is still there,” he said. “What offer?” I asked. 

“The offer to kiss me. Remember when I offered when we first met?” 

“O-Oh, yeah,” I stuttered, beginning to catch my breath

“The offer’s still there if you wanna take it.” My eyes flickered back up to his. I shook my head furiously. “I-I don’t want to take it.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he grinned. 

I then snapped out of my daze, putting my hand on shoulders and pushing back. “I said no.”

“Alright, alright,” he held his hand up in defense, backing further away from me. 

“Now you’ve had your fun, will you help me?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair. 

“I guess so,” he shrugged. My eyes lit up, “Really? Oh, my God! Yes!” 

I jumped up and went to hug him, wrapping my arms around him. I engulfed him tightly, entangling my fingers in his hair. It was surprisingly soft. 

“This feels nice,” Kai sighed. 

I groaned, “Okay. Moment ruined.” I pulled away, stepping back a good few feet. 

“You hugged me first,” he shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Alright, so when do you want to get started?” I asked. 

“After dinner,” he answered. “But it’s 2 pm,” I said. 

“I know. But how about you and me have dinner together,” Kai explained. 

“I thought you hated me?” I asked. “Oh, I do. I definitely do. That’s why I want to have dinner with you. I know just how to push your buttons. You’re so cute when mad,” he grinned. 

I growled at him. “And you are so annoying.” “See! So cute,” Kai scrunched his nose. 

“I bet it’ll be cute when I give you a black eye,” I muttered.

“It'd like to see you try. Anyways, if you want my help, then you’ll come to dinner with me,” Kai shrugged. 

I sighed, “Fine. What time? What do I need to cook?” 

“7 PM. And nope, I’ll cook.”

“O-Oh, really? You cook?” 

“Yep,” he grinned proudly. 

“Hm… Well, good to know. Anyways, I’ll be here at 7,” I said, making my way towards the door. 

“Make sure to dress up! This is gonna be fancy!” Kai called out. 

“Noted!” I exclaimed, stepping out of the house. I shut the door behind me, exhaling heavily. “Now you got a date with the town’s psycho, Y/n. Good going.” 

I strutted over to the car, getting in and driving back to my place. I read a few books to pass the time until I had to get ready. I got done with Twilight: Eclipse, as I actually had already started that the other day, and I went ahead and started to read more into Bonnie’s grams’s grimoire.

It was all so fascinating, really. I was so amazed by just the spells themselves, I didn’t even consider the history of all of them. While reading the grimoire, I started to feel a little jealous of the fact that Bonnie’s a witch, and the fact that I’m a human with a ring that keeps me alive whenever I got killed. I almost started to feel jealous of Damon and Tyler, but I knew that I never would want to be a monster. Being a witch would seem nice, though. Not like Kai, though. 

After a little heavy reading, I checked the clock. It was 5:49, which meant that I had to start getting ready. I put a bookmark in place in the grimoire and got up off the couch, heading up the stairs. I turned on the shower and got undressed. 

I took off my sweatpants and socks, followed by my shirt. As I reached for my shirt overhead, the front of it brushed my nose. An unfamiliar, but calming scent  filled my nose. I slipped the rest of the shirt off, turning it back right side out and held it up to my nose. I closed my eyes and breathed the scent in. It smelled like mint, paper of old books, and a little like grape jam. As soon as the grape jam smell came to me, I immediately knew who this scent belonged to. 

“Ew!” I shrieked and threw the shirt across the room. It landed in the laundry basket, luckily enough. I let out a gagging noise, taking off my underwear and getting in the shower quickly. 

I took my time washing up. Taking a shower seemed to be the only place I could really let go and bask in the quiet and loneliness that was in this house. It was strange because it was always quiet and lonely in this house. This was my only time to truly relax since I was doing everything to keep my busy during the day, so I wouldn’t start crying and throwing a fit about still being here. 

I lathered my body with shampoo, giving myself a little massage on my shoulders. I closed my eyes and started to imagine what life would be like if I wasn’t stuck in 1994. 

I would be with my friends, obviously. We would be at Whitmore, trying to live a normal life. Caroline, Elena, Bonnie and I would be having a picnic on campus. Sipping iced teas and eating sometime of desert. Damon would probably be with us, considering that Elena can’t be without Damon for more than 10 minutes without dying - literally. Stefan would most definitely be there. He’s my best friend, so of course he would be there. He would be talking to Caroline, though, her hogging all of his attention because she likes him (though she always denied it). And maybe Jeremy would be there, too, for Bonnie. Holding her hand and cuddling up next to her like the cute couple they are. And me? Well, I didn’t really have anybody special in my life. I actually had a thing with Kol Mikaelson before he died. I liked Tyler briefly in high school, but I’m 100% sure he’s into the girl that works at the coffee shop at Whitmore. Matt wasn’t my type at all. Neither was Enzo. Maybe I had a cute boy a Whitmore on my arm. A classmate that I had invited to the picnic. Someone cute, smart, funny… a little crazy. Maybe… Maybe Kai.  

My eyes snapped open as I became aware that Kai was now in my fantasy. I couldn’t help but shudder, even with the hot water running on my skin. I washed the rest of my body, focusing on anything else but Kai. I turned off the water, wrapping a towel around me. I dried my skin off as I walked to the sink, putting on lotion and re-brushing my teeth. I stepped back into my bedroom and put on a nude-coloured underwear set. It was simple and very, very comfortable. I then went over to my closet, looking for an outfit to wear. I shuffled through all my shirts, not being able to find one that I liked. I sighed in slight frustration, stepping back to try and see if anything stuck out to me. 

A little, annoying voice - that sounded much like my mother’s - sounded in the back of my head. 

Maybe you can’t decide on an outfit because you like him and want to look nice for him.

I scoffed loudly, shaking my head. “No. I definitely do not care. That’s why I’m just gong to wear this.” I reached into my closet and pulled out a simple dark-turquoise dress. It was spaghetti-strapped and plunged a little bit at the neckline. It reached down just above my knees. Perfect for dinner with an… associate. 

I slipped it on and back to the bathroom and did my hair, putting it in one of my favourite hairstyles. I then got out some makeup products. I put on a light coat of foundation and concealer, curling my eyelashes and brushing them up with mascara. I then shaped my eyebrows and filled in the sparce parts, dusting on some blush and putting on chapstick. I looked in the mirror, stepping back to look at my appearance. I cringed as it looked like I was going on a date. I shook those thoughts out of my head. I wasn’t dressing up for him, I was dressing up for myself. There’s no shame in wanting to look nice for yourself. 

I went back into the bedroom and found a pair of black heels. I slipped them on, going over to the dresser and putting on a few gold bracelets and a pair of earrings. I re-adjusted my necklace that I was already wearing. I looked at my reflection and smiled. For once, I felt and looked good. I grabbed a black jacket and walked out of my room, checking the time once again. I had 10 minutes to get his house, which was perfect. 

I went out of the house and to the Chevy, driving to Kai’s house. I parked in the driveway, my heart beginning to race. I let out a few deep breaths and go out of the car. As soon as I was about to knock, the door swung wide open.

The door revealed Kai who was wearing a white button-up shirt and dark-blue slacks. He actually looked… nice, for once. My eyes traveled around his chest. I couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps strained against his shirt. I could literally see his abs through the shirt, too. It did not help butterflies that were starting to flutter in my stomach. 

“Like what you see?” He smirked. 

My eyes flew up to his face, taking a deep breath to calm myself down from all the excitement I was feeling.

“No,” I said flatly, going into the house and brushing past Kai. 

“Well, you look nice,” he said as I walked into his kitchen. 

“Thanks. You do, too,” I complimented genuinely. 

“I’ve never seen you in a dress before. You should wear them more often.”

“I don’t like dresses.”

“But you like me. That’s why you wore one to our date?” 

I balled my hands in fists, turning around to face him. “One, this is not a date. And two, girls can wear dresses for themselves, not for men like you.”

Kai grinned widely at me. I realised I had fallen into his trap. He was trying to push my buttons and so far, he's been successful. I couldn't let him win, though. I had to calm down and get through this night. Otherwise I would probably never be getting out. 

“Your temper is almost as bad as Damon’s,” Kai remarked. 

I sighed, “Well you’re not making it easy to stay calm.”

“I know,” he chuckled, walking past me and to the dinner table. “I hope you like ravioli and mushrooms.”

“Did you make these or buy them?” I asked, walking towards the kitchen table. 

“Made them. The Salvatores have lots of cook books. I might have stole them before you came,” he explained. 

"Well, it smells great,” I admitted, beginning to take off my jacket.

“Glad you think so. Here, let me get this for you,” he slid over to me and took the jacket off my shoulders. He folded it and put it on the ledge of his couch. 

“Thanks,” I said. He then pulled my chair out for me. I sat down, thanking him this time with a smile. 

“Wine?” He asked, bringing a bottle over. “Yeah, sure,” I nodded. 

He poured two glasses and placed one in front of me. He sat down and took a knife and fork. 

“Dig in,” he offered. “This isn’t filled with like, cyanide, right?” I asked half-jokingly. 

“Ha-ha. No. I worked really hard on these,” he said. 

“Hm,” I hummed. I cut one of the raviolis in half and popped on in my mouth. My eyes widened as it tasted a lot better than I expected. 

“Good, right?” Kai smiled. 

“Very,” I nodded once I swallowed. 

We ate in silence for a few moments. I was itching to talk to him about getting home. I took a long sip of wine before beginning to take. 

“So um…. I’ve started to re-build the ascendent. It’s a lot harder than it looks, but I’m really close. I just have-”

“No,” Kai said suddenly. I furrowed my brows, “What?” “No, we aren’t going to talk about that just yet. I want to get to know you,” he explained. 

I rolled my eyes. “Why? All you need to know is my name and that I hate living here.”

He chuckled, “Not true. I have trust issues. So before I get involved with you, I need to know I can trust you. See, I didn’t trust Damon or Bonnie. I knew that they hated me from the second they met me. I knew that no matter what I would do, they would never give in to trusting me. You, however, you are so trusting. Didn’t you find it creepy that I, a strange man whom you met in a parking lot, offered you a ride?”

“Oh. I-I mean, I guess? But I needed a ride, anyways,” I said. 

He shook his head with a smile. “No. Not a good enough reason. Any reasonable woman would have run away from me. You, though… You saw something good in me, didn’t you? You thought I was nice and cute. Maybe a little too forthcoming, but still you put some trust in me. And if you can trust me, maybe I can learn to trust you.”

“Is that why you didn’t let me go with them?” I asked, suddenly connecting the dots. 

“Part of the reason. I knew that I had no chance of getting home with Damon and Bonnie. But with you, I knew that I had a chance. Even though you are just a human.” “I am more than that,” I argued. 

“And I’m sure you are! But you see, I don’t know that for sure because I don’t know anything about you. See what I’m getting at here?” “Yeah, I see,” I grumbled. “Great! So let’s start with the first question. Why do you always wear that necklace?” He pointed to my neck. 

“It was a gift,” I explained shortly, hoping he would notice the edge in my voice. 

“From who?” He asked, the corners of his lips upturning in a smirk. 

Of course he noticed. He just wasn’t going to stop. 

“Family member.” “C’mon, you gotta give me more. I can’t help you if I don't trust you.” I slammed my fork down on the table. “So? There’s a lot of people in the world that you don’t trust fully, but sometimes you just have to help them! Like in school, you may not trust one of your classmates personally, but if they ask you for help on a math problem, you would help them, right? And plus, I don’t trust you. I never did, for the record. I just really want to get out of this place, which now I am believing is my personal hell, not your’s, but I can’t do that without you!” 

Kai took a bite of his ravioli, taking his sweet time to chew and swallow. I clenched my knife, tempted to throw it into his carotid. 

“Watch your temper, princess. If you keep yelling at me, then I definitely won’t help you.” I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly, trying to calm myself down. “Fine. Sorry. I just don’t want to answer the questions about my necklace.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I’m asking,” he grinned. 

I rolled my eyes, settling back in my seat. “Please, don’t. It’s really personal.”

“You know, I killed my family. It can’t get any worse than that,” he shrugged. 

“Yeah, well, this is worse to me,” I muttered. “What? Did you kill your whole family, too? Man, I didn’t know we were so similar,” he chuckled. 

“No. They got murdered right in front of me,” I whispered out. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes. I lowered my gaze to my almost-empty plate. Thick, uncomfortable silence filled the room. I tried to fight the tears that threatened to fall, but as memories came back, I could no longer hold them off. 

“I-I’m gonna go. Thanks for dinner, Kai.” My voice was hoarse as I spoke. I swallowed hardly, trying to clear my throat, but it felt like shards of glass were rubbing the sides of it. 

I went to grab my jacket and wrapped it around me, reaching out for the doorknob, but Kai pulled me back. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist gently, but firmly. He tugged me back slightly, enough for me to turn around and look him in the eyes. The expression on his face was something that I had never seen on him before. He looked regretful, guilty; full of remorse. For once I didn’t feel annoyed or scared of him. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he spoke softly, his blue eyes boring into my e/c eyes. 

“I-It’s alright. It’s not your fault,” I sniffled. “No… I-I should have known this was too personal for you to want to share,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to push my buttons,” I chuckled. 

“I do. I admit that. But I really do want to get to know you.” I narrowed eyes at him, crossing my arms around my chest and leaning back in my chair. “Why?” 

“Because I… I think you’re interesting. When I was watching you and your friends, I was able to discover things. Things about Bonnie and Damon. But you… I couldn’t figure out a thing about you. You talk a lot to Damon, and I know you’re really close with Bonnie, but you’re still so private. I’m such an open person, so it was weird for me to see you be so closed-off, but outgoing at the same time,” he explained, his cheeks glowing pink as soon as he finished. 

I couldn’t believe what I had heard him say. He was finally saying nice things about me in a sincere tone. I couldn’t help but smile and softened up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged sheepishly. “Hm,” I buzzed. 

“So, will you stay and we can get to know each other? I promise I won’t ask you about your family anymore,” he said. 

I stared at him intensely. As much as I wanted to say no, every fiber in my body was screaming yes. 

“Alright, sure. I’ll stay,” I nodded. I knew that if I said no, he probably wouldn't help me get back home, but I was actually looking forward to staying. It seemed as though my feelings for him were developing a lot quicker and stronger than I thought they ever would. 

A bright smile lit up his face immediately. “Great! Do you want to continue eating? I have some ice cream, too, if you want.”

“Ice cream sounds good,” I answered. He nodded and let go of my wrist, walking to his freezer. 

I felt alone and cold all of the sudden. I felt myself start to miss his hand on me, holding my arm. His skin was so warm and surprisingly soft. I wanted him to touch me all over. 

“Take a seat on the couch.” His voice broke me out of my dirty thoughts. 

I shrugged away the thoughts and made my way to the sofa, taking a seat and making myself comfortable. 

“Do you want a blanket of anything?” He asked, setting down two bowls. 

“I’m good for now, thanks,” I said, reaching her to grab a bowl. “F/f?” I asked. 

“Yeah. This one of the few things I found out about you,” he smiled sheepishly, taking his bowl and sitting down next to you. 

“Indeed I do. I assume you do, too?” I guessed. “Yep,” he nodded.  “Hm. So, what do you want to know about me?” I asked. 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“F/c.” “Do you have any pets back at home?” He asked.

“I had a cat a few years ago. She died, though.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “It's alright. She was 20, so she was bound to die soon,” I shrugged. 

He nodded. “What’s life like back at home?”

I took a bite of ice cream, thinking for a few moments. “Fun. Busy, but really happy and colourful.”

“Are you in college?” He asked. “Yeah. Second year,” I answered.  “What’re you studying?” 

“I’m majoring in human studies and minoring in art and design.” “Sounds fun.” 

“It is. And a little stressful,” I chuckled. He laughed with me, looking away from me for a moment and then looking back. 

“Do you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, back at home?” He asked. 

“Nope. I’ve been single for a good couple years,” I said. 

“You? Single? I find that hard to believe,” he snorted. “Why?” I asked, my heart fluttering just thinking about his answer. 

Kai smiled softly at me. “Well, for starters, you’re beautiful. You’re strong and confident. You know what you want and have no issue in fighting for it. You’re a little hot-headed, but I find it attractive. You’re very smart; I see you reading almost everyday. You’re determined and dream big. I can tell you really care about your friends and family, despite how much you and Damon bickered. You’re like a girl in a novel or movie that other girls want to be.”

My whole face went warm at his explanation. My lips were upturned into the most cheek-aching smile, too. 

“And you said it was hard to find things out about me,” I giggled, nudging his foot with mine. 

“Well, I couldn’t find out personal things about you. That's all just from observation,” he shrugged, not seeming to be embarrassed. 

I nodded, “Well, now you know a few personal things about me.”

“That I do.” “I…. I thought you liked Bonnie, too,” I spoke my thoughts out loud. 

 “She’s beautiful, too. She’s also incredibly smart and intuitive. She’s very strong and nice. But you’re the one that really caught my eye.”

“Oh,” I smiled impossibly wider. “Well, good to know.” “Yep,” he popped the ‘p’. I couldn't help but notice how his gaze dropped down to my upper chest, where my necklace sat. 

“They died one and a half years ago,” I started. 

His eyes flew up to mine. “You don’t have to-”

“No, no. It’s alright. Um… so it was at night. Everyone else was at the house, but I had snuck out to go to a party hosted by Caroline. At this time, I was involved with a vampire named Kol. He convinced me to go out. I knew it was wrong and I was going to get in trouble. I was what some would call a goody-two shoes. Anyways, I stayed out until like, 2 in the morning. I was getting tipsy and tired. So, Stefan, Damon’s brother, drove me home. When I first arrived at my house, it looked completely normal. It was quiet and peaceful. It wasn’t until I walked into my house when I knew something was wrong. There were lights on upstairs. It felt so tense, too. I could literally feel how tense and thick the air was.” I stared down at my ice cream for multiple minutes, blinking rapidly as tears fell. 

“I went upstairs and that’s when I saw him. He was tall and wearing a ski-mask, like he was trying to rob us. I guess he had other things he wanted to do, too. He didn’t see me at first, though. It wasn’t until he shot my dad when I started to cry and that’s when he noticed me. I ran away though and into my sibling’s room. I saw that they were still were asleep and safe. So I did the first thing I thought was sensible. I called Stefan. I explained to him that someone had murdered my dad. And as I called him, I heard my mom scream,” I shuddered as her scream ringed in my ears. 

“That’s when I heard the door being kicked open downstairs and I knew that Stefan was there. He had brought Caroline and Damon, too, with Bonnie. They were all here to help and I was so appreciative of them. I thought they were going to kill the guy, which was honestly what I wanted. But apparently, the murderer was a vampire. An old one, too, which meant he was stronger than everyone. My friends put up a good fight and I tried to get Andrew and Jenny out of the house, but as soon as we were going down the stairs, the murderer sped up to us and snapped both of their necks. I-It all happened so fast. I….I just couldn't register what was happening. They both just fell limp in my arms. I didn’t know what to do but cry. I was practically screaming while crying, cursing at the murderer. I tried to fight him, but I was so tired and weak, he almost ended up killing me, but luckily Stefan got to him the fastest and ripped his heart out. He fell right on top of me, too. I will never forgetting the weight I was feeling just then. Metaphorical and physical. I pushed him off of me and collapsed into Stefan’s arms. He held me for what seemed like forever until I stopped crying.”

I felt Kai move closer to me, putting a comforting hand on my hand. I smiled softly at him, letting out a deep breath as I was about to finish the story. 

“I didn’t come to school for four months after that. I didn’t even come out of my room during that time. My friends took turns everyday taking care of me. Stefan was on cooking duty, Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie switched roles of helping me bathe, getting me to eat, trying to get me to take a step out of bed. Damon and Jeremy provided the jokes and funny stories to try and get me to feel better. Alaric, who was acting like Elena and Jeremy’s parent, adopted me into their family. He said it was Elena and Jeremy’s idea and he agreed fully. After my grieving period, I moved in with the Gilberts. Elena and Jeremy called me their sister and I fell into that role. It was nice to have a family again. It was nice to have siblings again. To have a parent again. I knew it wasn’t real, though. Jeremy and Elena acted like it was real, though. They were so welcoming of having me as a sister, it was just so good. Once I went to college, though, I tried to get a little more independent. Bonnie was gone, actually, so all I had was Caroline and Elena. But we made it work. I’m so thankful for all of them. They really helped me and never gave up on me. Even when I threw fits about getting out of bed,” I smiled at the memories of them helping me. 

“Anyways,” I shifted on the couch. “The summer before college, I ended up cremating my family and spreading them across the Pacific Ocean, thanks to Damon who gladly took me on a trip.”

“Wow,” Kai breathed out. “I know,” I chuckled.

“You have really great friends. I’m sorry that all happened to you,” he said. “I-I can’t imagine what you went through. And what you’re still going through.” “Yeah, well, I’m the survivor here. You’re an actual murderer,” I smirked. 

He laughed, “True. You know, if you know that I’m a murderer, then why do you agree to spend time with me?”

I sighed and set the empty bowl of ice cream on the table. “Well, you’re right. I am trusting. I see the good in people and I see the good in you. When I was about to walk out the door, I saw the good in you. I see the good in you now. You can be good, Kai. I know it’s hard considering what you have been through, but you are just as much as a survivor as I am.” I intertwined our fingers and put my other hand on his forearm. 

“You were abused as a child. You were punished for being different. And although that doesn’t excuse you killing your siblings, you still deserve love. I don’t know how being in a coven works, but I do know how being in a family works. You’re supposed to love each other and your father didn’t give you that love. Sure, you’re a little… eccentric at times, but you still have feelings like everyone else. I know Damon and Bonnie called you a sociopath, and I know I did, too, but now that I’ve seen this side of you, I know you’re different. You should be able to resent your father for being blamed for being a siphoner. Which, by the way, I think it really cool, honestly. I-I’m sorry for yelling at you and getting really mad all those times,” I apologised, looking at him in the eyes to know I was sincere. 

He shrugged with a smile, “Well I didn’t make it easy on you.”

I laughed, “No, you did not. Anyways… You are a survivor Kai. A survivor of your family and this world. You deserve a lot more than you think.”

“Thank you. I guess that’s true,” he said. 

I smiled and leaned into him, “I know it’s true.”

He smiled at me, his hand tightening around mine. My eyes trailed down to his lips, ogling them for a good few moments. 

“Does the necklace has pictures of them?” Kai asked. 

I leaned away immediately, my hand slipping out of his. “Yeah, do you want to see them?” 

He nodded, moving closer to me so our thighs were touching. I took off the necklace, opening it up and showing him the left side where my parent’s picture sat. 

“That’s my dad, Owen, and that’s my mom, Louisa,” I pointed. 

“You look just like your mom,” Kai muttered. 

I looked to my right, seeing that he was staring right at me. I blushed a little, looking down shyly. “Yeah. We got our genes from our mom.”

“Are they Andrew and Jenny?” He pointed to the right side of the locket. 

“Yep. Andrew is 10 and Jenny is 13,” I said. 

“They look like good kids,” he commented. “They were. I often wish that it was me who died instead of them,” I murmured. 

“Why?” 

“Because I was the one who snuck out that night. Plus, my mom and I were having some relationship issues. She was always so irritated with me and criticizing everything I did. The last thing I said to her that night was “I hate you. I wish I had a different mom.”,” My lips were pulled down in a deep frown. 

“Well, you didn’t mean that, right?” Kai guessed. 

“I didn’t,” I shook my head. “Well, that’s all that matters,” he said. 

I nodded and looked up at him. 

“You have a little… Here,” he said and lifted up his hand. He cupped my cheek, his thumb running across my cheekbone, wiping a few tears away. 

My breath hitched as I felt myself leaning towards him. There was like this magnetic pull that I was feeling. I knew I couldn’t fight it if I tried. His eyes met mine, staring intensely at me. My eyes flickered down to his lips. They looked so soft. So pink. So unbelievably kissable. I was about to close the space in-between us when Kai stopped me.

He put his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back. 

“What? Did I read the situation wrong? I’m so sorry,” I rushed out, getting up from the couch. 

Kai’s hand grabbed my forearm roughly, pulling me back down on the couch. 

“No, it’s not that. You read the situation totally right it's just that… I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he admitted, looking down shyly. 

I smiled softly, reaching my hand out for his. “It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything. It’s late, anyways. I should get going.” I looked at the clock, noticing that it was 9:30. 

“Or you can stay and we can watch a movie?” He suggested. “Sure,” I nodded with a smile. “Can I take my shoes off?” “Yeah, of course. Actually um, do you want a change of clothes?” He asked. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” I nodded. 

“Sweatpants and t-shirt work for you?” He asked. 

“It definitely does,” I said. “Great. I’ll be right back, go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” he said, getting up from the couch. 

I smiled and nodded, taking my shoes and jacket off. I leaned back on the couch, sighing. I could not believe I was making nice with someone who tried to kill me. Damon was right. My type is crazy.

————

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Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino

Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.

W/C: 3K

Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)

A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!

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Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.

As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.

“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.

The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying.  “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.

Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.

He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”

Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.

Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”

You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”

You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.

Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.

-

You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00  to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?

What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.

Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.

“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”

Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.

You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.

The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”

Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.

Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”

Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”

He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”

“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.

Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.

You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.

He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”

You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.

Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.

“Then eat.”

The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”

Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.

You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.

A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can’t pay.

Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.

Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”

“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.

“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”

Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”

Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.

He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.

“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”

Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”

“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”

Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.

You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.

His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”

“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.

“I like you a lot.”

Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.

“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.

“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”

Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?

“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.

“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.

You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.

You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.

“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.

Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.

“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”

“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.

Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.

“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.

“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.

“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”

“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”

She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”

“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.

Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.

“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.

Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain

[dreamiesdotcom]

february spring | h.rj

genre: hanahaki!au, angst, fluff

trigger warning: character death

summary: You wonder what he'll do when he realizes you no longer cough petals, but flowers in full bloom — that inside you is a full blown spring, within a body that exists in winter.

word count: 2.7k

The thing about flowers is that they suck.

Today again you wake up coughing petals and blood, feeling like wanting to burn the world and then your damned feelings — but no, you think, you'd rather not have life at all if you're not in love with him. You'd choose him again and again if asked.

That's the stupid thing about it. You're so willing to hurt and to be hurt for love that made flowers grow inside you.

Your mom is crying at the foot of your bed, praying for it all to be gone; the petals, the blood, the disease you have to fight because you fell for the wrong person. Your dad turned around to face the wall, tears in his eyes. He wants you to be better. He needs you to be better, and he needs to be strong so you could fight.

It's useless, anyway.

"This could end in three ways," you remember your doctor saying. "Either he loves you back, you take the surgery, or you die."

And you know what that means? That no amount of strength, of happiness, will keep you alive. It's impossible for him to love you back. You're dying. There's flowers growing inside you and you're dying — dying in the most beautiful way; dying of love.

Of stupid love, but you disregard that.

"Mom," you call. "I don't want the surgery."

"You want to die?" She asks with a laugh, "You want to die for a boy who doesn't even know of your love?"

"Y/N," your dad calls, a warning.

"Please don't make me go through it," you close your eyes. "I don't want to forget him. I don't want to forget love."

Because it's all I have, you wanted to say. Love is the one thing worth having, and you can't imagine yourself after the surgery; you'll get your emotions removed alongside the flowers in both your lungs and heart. You can't imagine that.

It's not even about him anymore. It's—

"Mom, please," you beg, "I don't... I don't want to live in a world where I wouldn't be able to live and love. I don't want to live not loving you and dad."

Because what is a human without love, emotions? An empty vessel. A withering rose. Something to stare at emptily as slowly, they begin to die.

Tears well in your mother's eyes, shaking her head, repeating the same words again and again — "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him" — but you made up your mind. You're dying, but before that you're gonna live —

you're gonna live, and this time not for him anymore; for yourself. For yourself too.

Even though life with this disease is limited to this hospital, the window and the rooftop, it is life still — this sickness made you cherish all the little things you'll lose when your body loses warmth. On some days you play with the kids, young hearts running around not really understanding their situations.

You put a smile on your face after everytime you throw up — you hide away somewhere no one would see, you hide yourself. You want to live. If you want to live, there's no need to be pitied.

At night, before you need to go to your room, you go to the rooftop and meet with a friend; Huang Renjun, same case. His heart longs for the stars, the moon, and a boy who is and will always be happier with someone else.

Tonight again, you stargaze.

"Imagine what we'll be if we weren't like this," he wonders out loud, "You'd still be annoying."

You kick his foot lightly, making him laugh, "See? You're sick and annoying. If you weren't sick, you'd be even more annoying!"

You turn to face him, and a fond smile is on his face, "You'd be beautiful still, even more without the tiredness in your eyes."

"And you'd still be handsome, Renjun," you find yourself saying, "You'd still love books and poetry, and stars..."

"But your smile wouldn't be so sad," he continues, pointing to Sirius, tracing the entire constellation as if the stars are right before his fingertips. "Your smile would be open and honest, not just something to comfort me."

You smile wistfully. He rolls around to pin you down, his hands on your wrists, a smile of his own on his face. It's something silly, kind of cheeky — typical Renjun.

"You're my only friend, Y/N," he confesses. "And I hate him. I hate the boy who made you sick."

Tears start to fall from his eyes, leaving him shaking. His arms still pin you to the ground, his tears falling on your face. He sobs. He sobs and sobs and my god, he still looks beautiful — Sirius rests on the space where his neck and shoulders meet. Galaxies are in his eyes.

He looked beautiful, so beautiful that you didn't have the heart to tell him that it's him. There's no other boy but him.

###

I wonder when he'll notice...

February cold engulfs you in its hold, making you shiver. Renjun walks beside you. It's a silent trip to the rooftop, snow falling in beautiful flakes. He takes notice in your silence.

I wonder when he'll ask if I love him...

"Are you okay?" Renjun asks, shoulder brushing against yours.

You smile at him, "I'm fine. I'm just a little cold."

Time is running out...

"Renjun," you call out his name, "Do you think you could ever fall in love with me?"

He looks at you as if you said something absurd. He laughed, he laughed until he coughed blood and petals — you stop in panic, rubbing his back.

"I think the cold is doing us no good," you say. "Let's head inside."

Was it really that impossible for you to fall in love with me?

"No, no, I'm fine." He wipes the blood off his lips, "See?"

Scary as it seems, the petals have become usual visitors for patient with Hanahaki. It doesn't even bother Renjun anymore at this point.

He'll have the surgery and get better — just a little more, he said, let me feel this love for a little more, because after the surgery I know I never will love again.

The petals don't shake him anymore. There's a cure, after all. A cure you keep denying yourself.

"Alright, let's go."

You resume walking, looking straight ahead. The sun is setting as a white sunset.

You wonder what he'll do when he realizes you no longer cough petals, but flowers in full bloom — that inside you is a full blown spring, within a body that exists in winter.

###

"Happy Birthday to you~ happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, happy birthday..."

You look at Renjun's room, meeting gazes with Lee Jeno. You smile and look away.

Renjun has told you the story of three best friends.

Jaemin and Jeno are his regular visitors. Whenever they come, there's a spark in Renjun's eyes — the glint of sadness, the look of yearning for love like theirs. You know. You pass by his door everytime.

You know, too, that he's still in love with Na Jaemin.

Whenever they come by, they bring him flowers — you laugh, because Renjun has enough of those blooming inside him. They bring him food to eat, bring him gifts, but there's no love for him in that space. Jaemin and Jeno's love are solely for each other, and Renjun wants that selfishness too; he wants Jaemin's love all to himself. It's what planted those seeds.

Whenever they come, Renjun wallows in envy and self pity and sadness, sadness because it breaks his heart that seeing them both so happy hurts him. Whenever they come, you battle yourself to not yell at them and make them leave and tell them they're not of any help, not helping him feel better — Renjun's life is just as limited as yours. He has counted seconds and all they do is make him realize what a fool he was to fall for someone he'll never have.

Whenever they leave, they leave a hole in his heart — it only grows bigger and bigger with every visit, with every goodbye. Renjun must be a fool.

But he'll have it, the surgery. He wants to live that much, that even though it will be impossible for him to feel love, he'll still search for happiness.

And that's how you know it.

You're dying.

In silence, you break down and whisper your greetings: Happy birthday, Renjun.

###

Renjun sits across you, holding the flowers Na Jaemin has given him. He plucks them once — he loves me. The sun is hidden away by the clouds, and his gaze that once were on you flutters across the room, back to where Jaemin stands. He plucks another petal — he loves me not.

Jaemin looks back to your direction, and waves. You're sure it made Renjun's heart flutter.

"You're the infamous Y/N," Jaemin grins. "I hope we can be good friends."

"Before I die, that is," you joke, earning a smack from Renjun. The stem of the flower hits the back of your head.

He loves me.

"Jaemin, where's Jeno?" Renjun asks, curious. There's no sight of honey haired boy and it's a strange sight, but you know deep inside he is pleased.

He loves me not.

"He's busy today."

"As he is every day?"

"C'mon, Renjun," Jaemin laughs. "It's not like he never gives me time."

Renjun shakes his head anyway. He releases a big sigh, calming himself down — deep inside he knows he can love Jaemin better. A pained look flashes in your eyes.

Renjun taps your thigh in concern.

He loves me.

"I need to go, 'jun," Jaemin says, taking his belongings with him. He runs straight to the door, but before that he turns around and waves.

When Jaemin leaves the room, Renjun looks like he just fell in love. Again.

A bitter smile draws on your face.

He loves me not.

###

The day of Renjun's surgery came quicker than expected. The explanation was simple; he can never feel love again, but he will survive. He will be alive and that's what matters.

It's a sad thought, living without love. But Renjun would rather not love than not live at all.

"It's tomorrow," he said. "You should take care."

You don't meet his gaze.

"I'm tired, Renjun," you whisper, clutching his shirt to pull him impossibly closer.

A smile draws on his face, a beautiful sight to look at.

He asks, "Tired of what?"

And you've been tired of a lot of things. You tried not being so, but you can't help but fail miserably — lately everything's just been too much. Most of them, though; thoughts like this, like the truth that spills from your mouth.

"Of the flowers growing inside me," you say wistfully, "I'm tired of it and I hate it. I hate it so much."

"Y/N..."

"And I'm tired of you too, of you looking at me with those eyes," you turn to face Renjun who sits with his head hung low. You let a chuckle escape your lips, "Those eyes that look at me as if you could love me had you not met Jaemin."

Renjun couldn't say a word.

You feel yourself withering away as more flowers bloom inside you.

###

Renjun left right after he recovered from the surgery, the nurses said. You stay in your bed all those time, not bidding him goodbye at all. You throw up more flowers than usual, more blood.

All the promises you made about living life before you die is gone. All you can think about is how difficult it is to breathe, how hard it is to live.

"Mom," you call, hoping for ease, "I want to give up."

But she smiles with tears in her eyes, she smiles. You see, she had the most beautiful smile in the world. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears and her lips stretched in a pitiful expression, "No, darling," she begs. "Stay awake. Stay awake for me."

You smile back.

"It hurts to breathe."

"It will be okay," at least she prays. "It's gonna be okay. Go through with the surgery."

You shake your head, declining still. Time is running out. Your father hugs you tight, the first time in years, a kiss pressed on your temple. Your mother holds your hand.

I don't want to, you repeat again and again.

Your father holds your hand — "We'll do what you want."

And there's a protest at the tip of your mother's tongue, but it melts away at the sight of tears falling from your eyes.

"Okay, sweetie," she says. "We'll do what you want."

Your doctor comes in a hurry minutes after. He's panting, a red flush on his face — he seems mad. "How long has it been?"

"Doctor..."

"You didn't tell us you were coughing out whole flowers."

Your mother's cries start to get louder. Full flowers meant the last stage: the closest to death. At this point it's a game between life and death and the dangers in between. You smile.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "But I'm not going through the surgery, doctor."

They look at you with eyes of pity, saddened that it has come to this. Your doctor nods. Your mother shakes in your father's hold. You laugh, "Why are you all crying?"

"Stupid child," your mother says. "Stupid Y/N."

You laugh harder, tears falling from your eyes. "I love you, mom," you say. "Can you hold my hand tighter? I'm scared."

From outside your door, Renjun clamps his hand over his mouth; he feels like throwing up. He originally planned to say one last goodbye, but instead, he gets this... this. Whatever the hell this mess is.

You're dying, all because you're in love with him.

All because he couldn't love you back.

###

The time comes quicker than expected.

You look at your body, watching from your soul — this must be what it is like to be have your soul wandering. You breathe in sharply, breathe out. You look at all the tubes connected to your body.

You go through the wall, moving to hug your parents. Your mother must've felt you, for her sobs grew louder and she called your name.

Suddenly, someone storms in.

"Doctor, it seems like you have an emergency patient," the nurse intervenes.

"Who's the patient?"

"Huang Renjun."

Your feel your heart drop — who knew you could still feel such things? But Renjun, didn't he...

"Renjun? Didn't he have a successful surgery?"

"Yes," the nurse looks down in shame, "But it seems there's remains of flowers in his lungs. He's now coughing out flowers in full-bloom."

The doctor rushes out of the room, saying excuses to your parents. You watch your own body breathe its last breath.

The nurse looks down, "Y/L/N Y/N, time of death, 10:48 a.m."

You wander around the hospital, going to where your feet take you. You soon find yourself in the emergency room, watching Renjun almost pass out from coughing flowers.

"Renjun," you call — the ghost of you, your soul. The one Renjun sees.

He looks in panic, knowing why he's seeing you; he's ready to die. What he's not ready for is to see you as a soul, dead and eternally young.

He blinks once, twice, hoping you don't disappear. It's not all truthful words, but he says it — "I love you."

Outside the room, Renjun's parents wonder to themselves — who is he talking to? What is he mumbling? His parents can't help but cry, worried at every flutter of his eyes.

"They say... when people are almost dying, their closest family visit them to take them to paradise." Jaemin says with a bitter smile, "I heard... Y/N passed. He might be seeing her."

A slap sounds in the room.

"My son is not dying!" Renjun's mother says. Jaemin nods, tears falling from his eyes.

"Are you scared?" you ask, head tilted, hands brushing strands of his hair away from his face.

"Yes," Renjun confesses.

"I'll hold your hand."

"Until it's over?"

You smile, "You're one of my greatest friend, after all."

Renjun never expected to die. Then, at the same time, he never expected the tiny sliver of love he feels for you — love for a friend, for a dear one. Renjun found a real best friend within you.

So, he holds your hands and comes with you.

"Doctor? Doctor, what's happening— my son!" His mother calls as he watches his eyelids close, "Renjun... My little boy..."

One last smile, one last cough of his favorite flower — Renjun is at peace. He closes his eyes and remains his age forever.

"Huang Renjun, time of death, 10:52 a.m."

[sasstrash]

Please forgive me I've been super focused on school

The Silent Queen 6; A Royal Morning

Raven woke up the same she always did - quietly. No one ever really noticed her until she was outside her room and hallway back in the castle but at school, people smiled and waved at her the second she left her dorm with Maddie. She guessed that the news of her arrival had spread and a lot of people wanted to know the daughter of the Evil Queen. Raven grimaced at the thought, she would have preferred not to be known at all. To just be a minor character in a smaller story. With a happy ending. But that wasn’t who she was, she was Raven Queen and this was her life.

Walking down the corridors to the castleteria was mostly uneventful aside from all the other students who continued looking at her and pointing things out. It was times like these that she wished she could hear. But then again she wasn’t sure how well she’d adjust to suddenly being able to hear. The castleteria itself is big and crowded with white lighting that made everything look brighter than what Raven was used to, many eyes looked over to her and Raven felt herself subconsciously tug at a lavender streak in her hair. This was going to be a long school year.

Cerise stood up and waved over at the pair of newcomers from her table where she sat with Cedar, Hunter, and a few girls who Raven vaguely remembered from yesterday who had been with that blonde- Apple, Apple White. The next Snow White, the one Raven would eventually have to poison. Raven stopped moving for a second at the thought of her destiny. Eyes wide she almost started to shake until Maddie lightly poked her shoulder, pointing to the castleteria’s food table. Raven straightened and followed her roommate and best friend to grab breakfast.

At home, she usually just walks into the kitchen. Chef made pancakes most mornings with berries from the nearby forest and honey on top. Raven always loved those pancakes, even if she had them almost every day. Raven quickly put a few slices of bacon on her plate smiling at the staff before grabbing some fruit salad and a couple of waffles and left to follow Maddie over to Cedar’s table. Most people moved out of the way to let the two girls pass through in order to get to their table. If Raven was being honest she had expected more students to run away from her when she arrived, and yet they all seemed to be completely enamoured by her. Weird. Maybe it was because she hadn’t shown up for regular school until this year, or because no one knew what she looked like (she avoided mirror phones and rarely left the castle grounds), or maybe none of them knew much about deaf people. Or maybe all three. By the time she and Maddie sat down, Raven was already exhausted, and she hadn’t even gone to class yet!!

‘Morning Rae, how was your first night at EAH?’ Cerise signed over to her childhood friend. Raven smiled at the nickname, Cerise had given it to her when they were about six, very soon afterwards Raven and Cerise began talking more over chats with their mirror phones as Cerise started elementary school while Raven began to be castleschooled. The two would work on video chats every now and again to keep sign language in Cerise’s vocabulary, (usually with a little help from Ramona too, but it’s not like they could talk about that it was a secret!) so the two stayed connected no matter where they were.

‘It’s been good Cher,’ another nickname that had come from their younger years ‘you know after the whole Headmaster situation me and Maddie set up our dorm. It was definitely different from the castle or your place’ Raven concluded before picking up her fork. She really was hungry after skipping dinner last night. As the others smiled at her she felt a warm fuzzy feeling wash over her, these were her friends, some through childhood, some through the others and they all loved her. She was loved, at least she was now but once she became, that she wouldn’t be. Her smile began to dim just a tad as she bit into her waffle. She shook it off before looking at the three girls she didn’t know the names of. ‘Oh sorry I almost forgot, I’m Raven, and you guys are?’ she asked the brunette in pink, the platinum blonde in white and the ginger with green eyes. Each one smiled at her as brightly as her friends, if not a bit brighter, they were probably princesses, Raven thought to herself before each one signed their names.

‘Briar Beauty’ The girl in all pink signed with slightly tired eyes. Raven immediately made the connection to the Sleeping Beauty Story, it took a lot for her not to frown, that was always such a sad tale, sleeping for a hundred years would mean losing the people she loved. Even still Raven could see that something else was turning in her mind, maybe she’d get to see what that was.

The ginger signed after ‘Ashlynn Ella it’s nice to meet you!’ she had the brightest smile that Raven had seen from the trio. Cinderella’s daughter her mind added in, another story with a happy ending but a tragic beginning, she couldn’t imagine losing both of her parents. Then again it was better than being imprisoned in a mirror, or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes until death, or being crushed by a boulder after falling off of a cliff. Raven’s thoughts were broken as she saw that Ashlynn was sitting very close to Hunter, who seemed to be completely focused on her, the dork had a crush, which seemed to be mutual. If Raven could speak well she would have laughed.

‘I’m Darling Charming but you can call me Darl for short’ The Platinum Blonde signed last as she gave a simple polite smile. Like the one that Raven had been taught to use for visitors and knights when she was younger. A female born Charming? She had heard of it before but it wasn’t common, most of them became small-time princesses with small kingdoms, or took over for the Charming Kingdom when the time came. It would be interesting Raven thought to see where her destiny leads her, after all, Darling definitely had the most open book story out of all of them.

‘It’s nice to meet all of you’ Raven signed before continuing ‘So.. has anyone gotten a schedule, I still haven’t’ It hadn’t been a big surprise to her though, she supposed no one had accounted for her deafness and they might have had to remake her schedule. After she mentioned it though she saw Cedar hit her head with her hand. “Ugh, I almost forgot,” she muttered to the group before pulling out a piece of paper. ‘Here Raven, I passed the headmaster and he asked me to give this to you, don’t worry he only had to reschedule two subjects!’ she finished passing the note over. Raven sent a grateful smile to her friend thank goodness for Cedar on the top of the paper a note was written with a schedule underneath. It read:

Dear Ms. Queen; first of all, I’d like to apologize for not being aware of this sooner, in the short time we’ve been given I was able to find some students to help you translate in each class. However, just in case most classes have an extra student who understands sign language. Below is your schedule, I hope you enjoy your time here at Ever After High.

Sincerely,

Headmaster Grimm

Breakfast: 6:30-8:30

Block one: Geografairy with Professor Jack B. Nimble (assisted by Cerise Hood) 8:45-9:30

Block two: Beast Training and Care with Professor Poppa Bear (assisted by Dexter Charming) 9:35-10:20

Block three: General Villainy with Professor Badwolf (assisted by Ramona Badwolf) 10:25-11:10

Block four: Math with Dr. King Charming (assisted by Ashlynn Ella) 11:15-12:00

Lunch: 12:00-12:45

Block five: History with Professor Rumpilstilskin (assisted by Madelyn Hatter) 1:00-1:45

Block six: Spellcasting and Potions with Professor Baba Yaga (assisted by Cedar Wood) 1:50-2:35

Block seven: Grimmnastics with Coach Gingerbreadman (assisted by Darling Charming) 2:40-3:25

Block eight: Art with Professor Card (assisted by Meshell Mermaid) 3:30-4:15

Dinner may be had at any time after this, as can counselling with Baba Yaga or Mother Goose. Lights out is at 10:30

Raven smiled at the schedule she only didn’t know two of the names on here. She was nervous to start her time at EAH but as long as she had good grades and a clear head she was sure she would do fine.

Notes:

I am really sorry this took so long, I kept forgetting about it because of school and COVID. btw if anyone knows how to make a master post and pin it could you please let me know? I would like to be able to do that. I also just got an AO3 account so I might post on there.

Taglist For The Silent Queen:

@virgil-is-a-cutie @justafanwarrior @bee-a-garbage-shipper @spicybelladonna @starrry-nites @tired-butterfly @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @themagicmistic @a-star-with-a-human-name @futursworld @pepelachanel @me-with-a-z-and-double-the-e @wolf-for-life

@iz-bell-saiah @thebookwormfairy @fantasiame

[thestraggletag]

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight​, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions. 

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

 The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd. 

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation. 

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress. 

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced. 

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief. 

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

 “A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him. 

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness. 

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her. 

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

[jaskiersvalley]

🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼 (for you're such a lovely person who shares so many beautiful fics with us and is always up for talking. ily

I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting on this ask because I just love seeing you in my inbox. But, like with everything, I need to stop hoarding and write a little thank you <3

Something wasn’t quite squaring up with Nilfgaard’s army. It spread at an alarming rate, much faster than a regular army could. Whatever sorcery the mages and sorceresses have concocted, it was terrifying. Such an army shouldn’t have been able to sustain itself, it needed food, water, resources to travel. Yet, despite all this, the army seemed to move silently, without the usual almost locust like destruction and draining of everything in their path. Nobody seemed to be able to pinpoint where the army was when it wasn’t fighting, only small scouting groups. People learned to be wary of those groups too. Wherever they went, the army was never seemingly far behind, backing them up at a moment’s notice. It was a mystery that was yet to be solved.

Finding a Nilfgaardian on the run was quite unusual. Eskel didn’t think it was something he’d live to see. They were usually so cocksure, travelling in their little groups. He had learned to spot them, even if they weren’t trying to make a scene. One leader, with five protectors. Those five tended to be on full alert and guarding their leader which was a bit odd, but then again, Nilfgaard as a whole was a bit peculiar.

The man Eskel spotted was obviously from the South, he heard him order, the accent harsh yet lilting at the same time. Watching him find the darkest corner - the one Eskel had wanted for himself - curiosity was winning out. Only a desperate man would share a space with a Witcher and this man, though he shrank away, steadfastly refused to move from the shadows of the corner.

“Got separated from your group?” Eskel liked to make small talk if he could. Especially when it helped solve a curiosity like the man opposite him.

“Something like that.”

Evasive, huddled and not looking Eskel in the eyes. The plot thickened. “So you ran away.” While the man didn’t seemingly react, Eskel could hear his heartrate pick up. “Why?”

Silence stretched. The man finished his food in a great hurry and was up, evidently not wanting any kind of company. Oddly, Eskel didn’t think it had anything to do with him being a Witcher.

The next morning the man was nowhere to be seen. But Eskel caught his scent and, with nothing better to do, he set off at a leisurely pace in the same direction. If they bumped into each other he could always claim it was a funny twist of Fate. He shouldn’t have joked about it, not even in his own head because, not a few miles out of the village, he found the evidence of a scuffle. The whole stretch of road had a tang of death to it which he couldn’t place. However, he soon forgot about it because he could smell blood and hear the pained, laboured breaths of someone. Rounding the small clump of bushes, Eskel tutted. “Run into trouble?”

“No.”

The blatant lie drew a laugh from Eskel. He had to admit, he was intrigued. Grabbing his pack, he approached the man, showing him his hands in an attempt to reassure that he meant no harm. In fact, he was offering a helping hand.

“Did they get what they wanted?” The question tripped from Eskel’s lips as he lifted the man’s gambeson away to reveal a cut to his side. It wasn’t deep but it was in the crease of soft flesh that tended to sting like a bitch, Eskel knew that from experience. His only reply was a shake of the head. “Good. You sent them packing by the looks of it. I’m impressed. My name’s Eskel by the way.”

Still no reply and the man tipped his head back, staring at the sky with gritted teeth while Eskel saw to his wound.

“Well, you’re in no state to travel alone. You headed anywhere in particular?” Another head shake but this time the man watched him with guarded eyes. “Okay. Why don’t we travel together for a bit. I can help keep you safe.”

“I can’t pay you for your services.” Clipped words that sounded tired. "And you probably shouldn't be around me."

It was cute, how the man seemed so determined to drive Eskel away without being cruel. Most refreshing. "I don't need your payment. As I'm not headed anywhere in particular, I figured we could both use a bit of company."

That settled the matter and, for three days they travelled in companionable silence, sticking to villages and heading north. It was only in a larger village that Eskel learned the man's name and not because they were getting more friendly either. The poster bore quite a good likeness to Cahir.

"So-" Eskel said as they camped outside the village, "-want to tell me why Nilfgaard thinks you're dangerous enough to not be approached but your sighting should be reported swiftly and discreetly?"

Cahir let out a world weary sigh, shoulders drooping. "I control a large portion of their army. They want me back for that."

Which was interesting. In Eskel's experience no general tended to command such loyalty. He was also a sucker for those in need. Plus, the chance to fuck Nilfgaard over was quite glorious. He smirked. "Want to come to Kaer Morhen to hide out for the winter?"

It was a bit of a trek north still but Cahir began to relax around Eskel. They shared their first kiss at the foot of the trail up to Kaer Morhen. A few more were traded along the way but, for the most part, they huddled for warmth, cuddled up for the cold nights.

Slowly the keep filled up with its regular winter visitors, all of them somewhat hesitant to greet Cahir until Eskel intervened with a pointed glare from behind him. Everyone settled in, Geralt turned up with Jaskier, Lambert and Aiden did their usual thing, even Coen managed to slip through the gates before the snow hit. Soon, they were all enjoying the roaring fires, drink and songs. Despite his army background, Cahir turned down all invitations to train and share knowledge. It didn't make him very popular but his cooking helped ease any grumblings.

It was all going well until a portal opened up and Yennefer stepped through. midway through greeting everyone she froze and turned to the door as Cahir stepped in.

"What are you?" she hissed, hand curling to cradle an unleashed spell.

"Nilfgaard's finest deserter."

That didn't seem to help ease Yennefer and she looked over Cahir with a critical eye. "I can see Fringilla's work in there with several others'. You volunteer for this?"

"Only as much as someone volunteers to be a Witcher."

"Just what is going on?" Vesemir rumbled. He had a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to jump in. That had Cahir taking a step back, a pained expression.

"I wouldn't advise you hurt me. You have an awful lot of dead buried here."

The growl from Vesemir wasn't reassuring. "Don't threaten me in my own home, boy."

"Vesemir!" The warning came from Yennefer of all people. "Don't."

Something was crackling in their air, Eskel could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was magic but not any kind he had felt before. Even worse, he could trace the source back to Cahir whose eyes were turning black slowly.

"I'm going to go outside. Please nobody follow." Stiffly, Cahir turned and marched out of the keep, into the snow covered woods. Silence reigned in his wake.

"The fuck?" Lambert spat, looking angry in his bewilderment.

As one, they all turned to Yennefer for an explanation. None of them had felt even a hint of magic from Cahir until that moment.

"That-" Yennefer pointed to where Cahir had been, "-is an unnatural necromancer. No innate ability but, with the right stimuli, can raise the dead between here and the bottom of the mountain."

The silence stretched until Jaskier cursed. "Now we know how Nilfgaard's army is sustained."

As big as the revelation was, Eskel had a bigger concern. That was his boyfriend who had just walked out, looking ready to be consumed by his unnatural powers. Stepping out of the keep, Eskel had to whistle. The whole area between the keep and the woods was covered in flowers, a carpet of green dotted with blossoms of colour. In the middle of it all was Cahir, kneeling, eyes closed and head tipped towards his chest. His breathing was forcedly even and deep.

"Go away," Cahir gritted out.

"It's just me."

Looking up, Cahir's eyes were black and bottomless, his breath hitched as a tear trickled down his cheek. "I didn't mean to. I promise. They're everywhere."

Eskel could hear the footsteps, shuffling and shambling. Not all of them human, one alarmingly large.

"Old Speartip," Eskel growled. From the forest around them an army of the undead approached. All the bodies they didn't have the means to burn after the sacking, Old Speartip from his cave, forktails they'd left dotted around the mountain, they were all approaching Kaer Morhen. Along with them came the smell Eskel had scented on the road where bandits had accosted Cahir, now he knew what happened back then.

Cahir let out a shuddering breath, hands curled into a fist. "Threats of violence and pain make them come."

"And when you feel safe, do they go away?"

A miserable nod was his answer and Eskel dropped to his knees. He gathered Cahir against his chest and kissed his softly, demanding all his boyfriend's focus to be on him. The noise of the undead around them stopped, under his knees Eskel could feel the grass wilting back to its winter state. Pulling away, he was pleased to see the blue of Cahir's eyes.

"I'll always keep you safe," he rumbled. A darker thought crossed his mind. "The groups of six scouts for Nilfgaard, they weren't scouts at all, were they?"

From the doorway, Eskel could hear the others shuffling around and peering out at them. But his attention was on Cahir and Cahir alone.

"A necromancer and their guards who're also their tormentors." Cahir sniffled. "There's a reason I've not joined you in the waterfalls. To raise an army, they did unspeakable things."

Eskel pulled Cahir tightly to his chest, wishing he could make everything better. Alas, there wasn't much to be done other than what he'd already been doing; supporting and loving to the best of his abilities.

"We now know better," he tried to reassure. "How would you feel if, in the spring, we continued to travel together? We can take any road you feel comfortable on."

Looking up at Eskel with wide, wet eyes, Cahir licked his lips. "I can't pay you for your services," he said, repeating his words from all those months ago. "But how would you feel about fucking Nilfgaard over? We could rescue a few more necromancers."

It was a daring plan but one that Eskel was intrigued by. So were the others when, over dinner, Cahir haltingly told them everything. The Path was unpredictable at the best of times, the coming year it was going to get even more convoluted.

[ushidoux]

Look at Me, Senpai - Hinata x Reader x Daichi (Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader starts to see Hinata in a different light once he returns from Brazil. It turns out Hinata’s inability to give up isn’t just something restricted to the court. (~1.8k words)

Warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, infidelity, a touch of the yandere

A/N: Idk how long this fic is gonna get but we’re nearing the big mess. I hope you enjoy reading and let me know what you think!

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

Leave him.

Hinata’s voice still rang in the back of your head but you would ignore it. Today, you would try on wedding dresses. You’d chosen Daichi, after all.

You trailed behind your older sister, who had flown in from overseas just for the occasion, and your mother who chattered excitedly between themselves, linked arm in arm, as they essentially tore through the bridal shop ahead of you.

“Try this, ___! It’s so beautiful and just look at that embroidery!” your sister insisted, almost snatching a backless and lacy gown from the hands of a terrified employee.

“No, this looks better!” Your mother pushed back, pulling another dress off the rack with no decorum to the other employee’s obvious dismay.

“Look at how high that collar is! Is she getting married to God?”

Meanwhile, you wondered if it was sacrilegious to be wearing white at the wedding given the circumstances.

If you truly loved him, you wouldn’t be like this with me. Why pretend? 

Why not be 100% true to yourself?

Hinata’s dreadful honesty continued to weigh heavily on you as you weaved in and out of dresses, feigning excitement as best you could in order to not tip off your annoyingly perceptive sister.

Only marry someone you love.

“You look beautiful, ___. I think this is the one,” your sister spoke up from the outside, now slipping into the dressing room to get a first glance at you once your mother slipped off for a quick bathroom break.

You whispered a word of thanks as you looked yourself now clad in the one you had also settled on as the perfect gown in the full length mirror, trying to envision the look on Daichi’s face as you came down the aisle, the picture of an angel in the flesh, promising to devote yourself to him forever. You could see your sister purse her lips behind you from the reflection, and you knew she was sizing up your facial expressions.

Oh God, maybe she wouldn’t-

“Cold feet?”

She did.

Your heart sank as you bit your lip, trying to hold back tears, but before you could your sister continued in a soft voice.

“It’s not unnatural to have cold feet.” She took a seat in the small stool set at the corner of the room and crossed her legs before looking at you carefully, a reassuring smile spread on her face. “You remember that I almost ran away the day of my wedding, right?”

The image of her drunk and crying two nights before, eerily calm one night before and practically jumping out the window in her own white dress thirty minutes before she gracefully walked down the aisle came to mind and you found yourself stifling a laugh. She smiled in response to your reaction, all was not lost as long as you could still laugh.

“It’ll be fine, as long as you love him.”

Did you love him?

“How were you sure?” You asked now as you hastily slipped out of the dress. A part of you wondered if you were just being dramatic, but the gentle fabric felt as though it were tightening on your skin despite being the perfect fit.

She let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I want to say something wise and romantic, like, ‘it was when we met eyes’ or ‘when he walked three miles in the snow to change my flat tire’, but to be honest, it was probably when I realized I couldn’t imagine life with anyone else. I know that sounds cliché but it’s the honest truth.”

She looked you in the eyes and sensed the waters muddying within rather than clearing up, and pursed her lips.

“If you want to tell me what’s going on, you can.”

Your body tensed for a millisecond. You knew you could tell her anything, but this? Cheating on your fiancé so shamelessly right after the engagement? There were limits to human understanding, but then again, maybe admonishment from someone you trusted would get you on the right track.

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could offer up a single word, your mother rushed back into the room.

“Why’d you take off the dress before I could see it???” She fussed, and you grinned in response to her disappointed expression before switching back to the task at hand. 

“Quick, put it back on!”

You would spare sissy dear the awful details.

---

Hinata didn’t call or text for the following week, and by the fifth day, the phantom rings and vibrations of your cell phone had started to drive you crazy. It was hard to concentrate on your art, on tasks of daily life, or preparing your wedding when all you could see flash in your mind’s eyes was what he looked like when you were under him. You told yourself it was the afterglow of lust and would eventually pass.

As if to palliate the pain of your separation, Daichi started to come home earlier than usual, and it began with him popping home at exactly noon on the next Saturday with flowers just because, an assortment of chocolates and takeout from your favorite restaurant.

“Let’s have a picnic,” he suggested, with a kiss on the forehead for his best girl.

You turned off your phone as you followed him out to the small park down the street, spending the early afternoon basking in the sunshine of spring and the warmth of Daichi’s affectionate regard.

Daichi pulled you into his arms as usual as you watched children play in the park with furry companions, couples riding bicycles and old ladies exchange gossip (and maybe launch a few surreptitious glances at the two of you). While the two of you were not strangers to public displays of affection, you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to become uncomfortable the more you noticed people looking at you. You couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe suddenly they were seeing you not as a regular couple at the park but for who you really were: a woman with a terrible secret and a man who was none the wiser.

Did it matter if you chose to be good to him from now on? Would that account for the betrayal? 

Would that erase the fact that a small part of you wished Hinata was holding you right now instead?

---

Two weeks passed and you fought the urge to call Hinata Shoyo.

By now you knew it was something other than lust that drew you to him, now that Daichi took the time to satisfy the need for carnal intimacy every few nights, even if it wasn’t quite the passion of before, when you had just graduated from high school and all you had were your hopes for the future and each other, but a different type of practiced passion altogether between you.

Daichi knew all the things you liked and exactly how to make your body react in the way he wanted it to but while you were satisfied, you were still wanting. 

Of what? Could you really say it was Hinata that you needed after such a short time together?

Daichi’s lips and tongue trailed down your soft belly as he held on firmly to your wrists above you, teasing you with promises of entering your privacy every time his mouth drew near, then wandered back up to your bosom. 

“Not yet, darling, just wait for me like this.”

He leaned in, pressing his length against your thigh, forcing you to arch your back and buck against him, but he wouldn’t indulge you, laughing softly while his hold preventing you from reaching out to him remained steady.

“P-please, I want you, Daichi, just let me feel you, please.”

He had been edging you for the past twenty minutes but it felt more like hours and your body craved the feeling of fullness between your legs.

“You want to feel me, baby girl?” He growled, earning you a lash of the tongue right at your sex, sending a current through your spine.

“Yes...,” you let out a whimper, “please let me feel you.”

“This isn’t enough?” He asked, between licks and slurps of your wet cunt. “You taste so sweet for me, little baby, what if this is all I want to do now?”

Your mind swam with muddled pleasure as you closed your eyes and you were no longer thinking straight, all you had left in you was the ability to beg.

“Please, please put it inside me,” you continued to whine as he nibbled on one of your lower lips.

“Beg for Daddy’s cock,”  he said, now kissing your mouth again, a large hand now gripping both of your wrists to hold you back as he pressed against you, the pressure on your chest and the pressure of his member just knocking at your entrance making it hard for you to breathe.

“P-please stop teasing me, S-Shoyo.”

A pause.

“What?” Daichi’s voice had reverted back to his regular voice, no longer thick with lusty mischief but with confusion, and he stopped his movements, unsure as to what you were trying to say to him. His grip relaxed around your hands, setting you free.

Your heart stopped as a panic set in, sobering you up almost entirely and you had to think fast, fast, fast.

“C-can ‘shoyu’ be out safeword, babe? I just wanna try something today, something a little different...” you mumbled, surprising yourself with how quickly you could lie under pressure. Awful. You were so awful.

He gave you a confused look, given that you didn’t usually use safewords, but it wasn’t a bad idea anyway, and he nodded with a small shrug before resuming with kisses to your neck.

Your heart continued to pound and you hoped he didn’t notice that the drum of your heartbeat now played fear. That was a close one.

Something had to give soon.

---

The next day, Daichi seemed to have expedited that process for you.

“Hey, I’m gonna have Hinata come for dinner tomorrow night,” he called out from the shower casually as you started your skincare routine. If not for the fact that you were literally splashing cold water in your face, there would be no other reason for the ice now running through your veins.

“No problem right? I can come back early to help you make dinner beforehand.”

“... No problem.”

[under-the-cherrytree]

I pulled this from a daganronpa imagine I read and my brain just expanded on it so i’m now just gonna write this while it’s still fresh in my brain<3.

(I’ll put the bottom half in regular text so it’s easier to read)

Idea// So basically the this takes place when Amane was still alive. The reader is a demon who was banished from hell and forced to live in the human realm as a punishment. So while wandering around the Earth , the reader comes across the school that Amane goes to and decides to take a look around. (It’s late at night and i’m really tired so i’m gonna finish this up quickly-) Long story short , she falls in love with him and ends up severely hurting herself , then positioning her ‘injured’ body somewhere he’ll come across it so she could just enjoy her moments in his arms as he carries her to the hospital. (It’s long but like my imagination was getting bigger and bigger as I was writing this- you could write this however you want to, it hurts to think so it might’ve gotten a bit confusing at the end)

The One Thing That Was Out Of Reach❣︎

Amane Yugi x supernatural! reader

Warning: Death, a bit of gore, sadness

IMPORTANT A/N!!! Instead of a demon I made them a supernatural like Yako and Tsuchigomori!! Okay thank you!

Ima cry writing this- *plays Introduction to the Snow*

Anyways, enjoy and have a good day or night!

I sighed watching the ravenette run around the campus for P.E. I sat on the bleachers as he slowly approached me. He sat next to me as he slowly drank his water. I examined the boy as he drank. I smiled watching him, opening my mouth to say something but was cut off.

“Yugi!! Get up, you have two more laps to run!!” The P.E. teacher yelled.

“Yes sir!!” He quickly stood up and continued running. I groaned and placed my head into the palm of my hands a little frustrated he had to leave so soon. It's not like it mattered anyways. He couldn’t see me. I’ve been in this school since it was built and I never loved anyone the way I loved Amane. He was a dork, he really is, but that’s just what I like about him. He’s a real guy and knows what it’s like to be down in a bad place. But I can’t be with him, I’m a supernatural and he’s a human. It’s not right.

“That's it! Class dismissed!” The teacher shouted. Amane ran over to me again, picking up his water battle. He started to walk back to the building and I followed him. He walked into his class and sat down in his seat next to the window, looking up at what was left of the moon. I heard a small groan and looked over to see Tsuchigomori looking at me slightly annoyed. I giggled at this and waved to him which he rolled his eyes too. Tsuchigomori knew I liked Amane. Well of course he did since I stayed with him through all of his classes.

Lucky for me, whoever sat behind Amane was not here today so I sat down. I smiled as I rested my head on the desk looking at Amanes back. Tsuchigomori started his lesson and I watched Amane’s hair jump every time he looked up at the white board and back down at his desk.

What I would give to be human so I can be with him.

Once class was over, Tsuchigomori told Amane to stay behind and I stayed also.

“You need to tell me who’s hurting you Yugi…” He took a medical bag out from under the desk and started looking through the things. Amane averted his gaze from the teacher, clearly not wanting to talk. I wanted to help Amane, he never talks about who's hurting him but he always comes into class with more bruises than he had the day before. My brows furrowed as I looked at his beat up arm. I wanted to give him a hug but was unable too. The dark haired teacher sat across from the boy and took his arm.

“Not going to talk huh?” Tsuchigomori asked, “Normal for you.”

Amane said nothing in response. This isn’t the first time the teacher had to treat his students for his wounds. It's actually how I learned of Amane Yugi’s existence. Tsuchigomori gave up on trying to talk to the boy and just worked on his hurt arm. I looked sadly at him. Once he was done Amane started to pack his things.

“See you later Tsuchigomori…” He walked out of the room. I was about to follow him but was held back when someone put their hand on my shoulder. I looked over at Tsuchigomori who gave me a concerned look.

“Why don’t you just stay in your human form?” He asked and I looked down. “If you want, I can help you become a student here. You can be in Amanes class.”

“It’s fine Tsuchigomori, thank you though.” I smiled slightly. “It wouldn’t be right… I can’t trick him like that”

Tsuchigomori sighed and sat at his desk.

“But you love him don’t you?” He asked.

“I do.” I approached the window and watched the choppy haired boy walk off the campus “I love him more than anything.”

The teacher grumbled as he continued to do paper work. We had this conversation before. It would be wrong to date him as a supernatural. I don’t age so it’s not like we actually have a future together. It would just be better to keep things that way they are.

“It’s your choice…” He gave me a serious look “just don’t regret it.”

“I won’t…” At least I hope I won't.

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊

I sat on the stairs running my fingers through the foxes fur while she layed on my lap. I sighed and she looked up at me.

“You’re in love with that human boy right?” She asked and I looked at her shocked.

“How did you know..?!” I blushed. She moved herself in my lap to get a better look at me.

“I can tell when someone likes someone they can’t be with.” She said and I calmed down a little. Of course she knows what I’m going through, she liked a human once as well.

“Would it be wrong to be with him..?” I sighed and looked at her. Yako looked at me with a concerned look. She knew what I wanted to hear but it wasn’t the right answer.

“Supernaturals and humans shouldn’t hang out with each other Y/n…” She said. “Trust me, I want that to be true as much as you do.” I felt a tear form on the edge of my eyes which I wiped away instantly.

“Did you hear that there was going to be a meteor shower tomorrow night?” Yako quickly changed the subject.

“Oh yeah I forgot about that!” I smiled “Students will be allowed to stay on campus late to watch on the roof! Amane really likes the stars so I bet he's going to stay for a long time…”

“Yeah I bet he is…”

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊

I ran out of the classroom and to the gate entrance. I looked up to the rooftop to see a couple telescopes being set up. One of them being set up by a choppy haired boy.

“I knew he would be here!” I smiled. When Amane looked at the stars he always looked so happy. It makes me so happy to see him enjoying something he loves so much. I was about to run to the rooftop when I heard someone.

“Hey. Supernatural.” A voice called out. I turned to a boy with dirty blond hair and gray eyes looking straight into my e/c ones.

“Wait… you can see me…?” I questioned, pointed to myself.

“Yes, I’m an exorcist.” He strictly said.

“An… exorcist..?” I asked.

“Yes, and I’m here to exorcise you.” My eyes widened. I felt my body freeze in place. I can’t be exorcised right now. Not while Amane will be so close, so happy tonight. I stepped back as he stepped closer. He pulled out a sharp katana, lightning emerging from the weapon. I wasn’t a hard opponent. Even if he is not an advanced exorcist, I’m not one of the seven mysteries, I didn’t have much to defend myself.

‘Maybe if I go to the rooftop in my human form… he won’t hurt me if I’m around people who can see me..!” I thought. I looked over to the door which was a little bit away from me. I looked back at the guy as he stepped closer.

I have to do this. I made a dash for the door which the boy clearly expected when he threw a lightning strike in front of me. I quickly stopped as a lightning cage was formed around me, preventing me from even getting to the door. I felt someone kick my back which caused me to fall to the ground. The boy used his foot to turn me over and grinned once he saw the tears in my eyes.

“What's this..?” He rubbed his shoe deeper into my shoulder causing me to groan in pain. “It’s not like anyone besides me will hear your cries and screams so there is no point… it’s not like you are special to anyone.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as my hand gripped his ankle trying to push him off.

“Just let go of this life and give up.” With that a sharp pain went through my abdomen. He pulled the katana out of my stomach, blood dripping down from the tip onto the ground. He took his shoe off my shoulder.

“Pathetic creature.” He walked off the campus and left me. Tears ran down my face as he left me to suffer. I looked at my wound. Red was flowing to the ground from the hole.

“Hey, I left my spare telescope at home, I’ll be right back, Tsukasa.”

My eyes widened as the ravenette opened the door of the school and walked out. My breathing was heavier seeing him. This was probably my last chance to see him. I couldn’t have him leave. I needed him with me just a minute longer.

I propped myself up on a nearby tree and let myself slip into my human form which wasn’t different from my supernatural form. I coughed and felt a warm liquid trail down my chin.

“A...mane…” I whispered before coughing again. The boy turned to me, too dark to see he squinted his eyes.

“Hello..?” He called out “Is someone there..?” He walked closer, flinching when he saw a small trail of blood making it’s way over to the tree. Once his eyes landed on my figure he froze.

“H-HEY!! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” He ran up to me, placing a hand on my abdomen. I looked into his golden eyes and couldn’t help but feel happy.

“...Amane-” I started to cough again, more blood coming out of my mouth this time.

“We need to get to a hospital!!” He picked me up in his arms, deciding it was best to ignore the blood that would stain his clothes.

“Please stay with me!!” He ran off the campus. I looked up at him. For a brief second he looked into my eyes then back to where he was running. His eyes held so many emotions, sadness, fear, hope.

“UHM! W-what's your name?!?!” He asked.

“It’s Y/n…”

“Well it's going to be okay y/n!”

I looked up at the sky to see the meteor shower starting.

“A-amane… the meteor shower… you are going to miss it…” I faintly said but he heard me.

“That's not important right now! We need to get you taken care of!!”

“More important than the stars..?”

“Yes! You are more important than the stars!!”

My cheeks warmed up when he said that. I smiled, eyes filling with tears of joy.

“We are almost there!” He panicked.

“I love you Amane Yugi.”

“You what..?! H-hey! Don’t leave me!!” Tears formed in his eyes as the hand that was holding my stomach went limp and fell to my side. He stopped and placed me down, tears falling from his eyes.

“Hey…! Wake up..!! Please!” He lightly shaked my body. He wrapped his arms around me and put his head into my neck, hugging my lifeless form.

“I’m sorry y/n…”

There is something I learned that night.

I learned I didn’t die with a single regret.

Because I died in the arms of the one I loved.

The one thing that was out of reach...