#like sir put those eyeballs away

[gentle-vers]

why do you, a man, have beautiful eyes??? to look other men deep in the eyes while making sweet sweet love, huh????

[rainachaeri]

Swapfell Papyrus x Reader

After a not-so-pretty breakup, you haven't seen Papyrus in five years. What were you supposed to do when one day he comes strolling into your shop like he did not just do what he did all those years ago?

----

It was a slow day when the walking cancer stick came in, and if you had to choose, you'd really rather stick two needles to your eyeballs than welcome him to his shop.

Unfortunately, you needed those eyeballs, and you needed it bad. How else would you live anyway? If the only thing keeping you alive is your business, which heavily required vision, and you happened to have damaged said balls able to provide said vision, you may as well take the leap and wave the world goodbye.

So, yes, you had no choice but to let him in, to tell him, “Good day, sir, how can I serve you today?” and to watch as that knowing smirk graced his teeth once again. It never grew old, that smirk.

And nor did he.

Anyway, he just gazed down at you, sockets unblinking, and you knew, you knew he was eyeing you up and down. Of course he was.

“any chance you're on the menu?” he asked, pulling out a cigarette. All these years and he still couldn't quit them, huh?

“Sir, this is a tailoring shop. If you want food, feel free to leave this store and walk across the street. I'm sure Miss Muffet would be glad to serve you again,” you droned out, trying and failing to keep your face neutral, but when he pulled out a lighter, your eye twitched.

“You can't smoke here either, sir. If you wish to relieve yourself, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.”

He chuckled, putting both the cigarette and lighter away. “as icy as always. I missed you, y'know?”

“Hm, right, and I missed three minutes ago when I didn't know you were still alive.”

“ouch. anything i can do to make up for it?”

“Either you buy something, put an order in, or leave.”

He hummed. “that's three options, darlin’. shouldn't have used either there.”

Your eye twitched again. “And I don't care. My name is yn, use it.”

“i need a new jacket,” he said. He lifted his right arm and pinched the sleeves of his jacket. There was a tiny tear. “see this? your hardwork's got a little damage already. i'd like a new one. same color and design, just sturdier, maybe.”

You scoffed, bending down to fetch your notepad and pen; you scribbled down his measurements. “only you would insult my creations then ask for more. talk about being ungrateful.”

There was a pause, a large one. You looked up from your notepad to see him staring at you, sockets wide.

“i… you know i didn't mean it like that, yn. i was just—”

You scoffed again. “Whatever. Come back next week. Your hoodie will be ready by then.”

His sockets widened further. “but–but you haven't even taken my measurements yet. you—”

“It's all taken care of,” you interrupted as you put the notepad away and turned to the computer and added his order to your log. “Thank you for choosing (shop name), have a good day. Please leave this establishment before I call in security.”

From the corner of your eye, Papyrus stood there, unmoving for a full minute, waiting, but you stood your ground. Eyes on the screen and hands on the keyboard, you pretended he wasn't there.

Eventually, he spoke again.

“right. thanks, yn.”

And then he was gone.

In a flash, you ran to the back and into the closet, where you slid down to the floor with your hands on your face.

Hopefully your sobs were quiet enough that no one would hear.

---

This is not beta read, basically just a draft, so I thought I'd just post it here. I might continue it though if it's of any interest to anyone :)

[villainsview]

Chapter 16

All Stories End Sometime

<Prev | Masterlist | Next>

It took a couple of days to prepare. I contacted Tito with the offer to sell the house where I stashed my money to him, so I had a small supply of cash again to bridge me over to the next job.

It seemed smart to lay low for a while, but there was just one last thing to do.

I bought the supplies I would need, before stopping at a thrift store to buy a couple extra clothes that seemed big enough to fit Erick. One could only last so long with one set, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to share any of my good clothes.

Ethel had already begun asking if I could take care of a teen, so I quickly told her a couple things are still being settled, which then became my cover to go away for a bit. I told her we had to go back to Arizona to take care of the last things, which wasn’t a lie of course.

“Best of luck with it hun,” Ethel said, insisting we take a food package she made along for the ride, “I hope to see you both back soon. Here, I packed a couple extra of those cookies you liked.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Erick said politely, taking the package from her and putting it in the back of the van with his backpack with new clothes.

“Oh you sweet thing~ You take good care of him now, Chase. If you need anything just call me.”

“Thanks beautiful,” I said, “hopefully we won’t be long. Just today to get there, a day rest, and we should be on our way back already.”

“Oh you flirt,” Ethel said, giving me a push, “get going you two, you don’t want to be late. And if you get car trouble again, call me. I’ll come pick you up.”

“You can’t drive, Ethel.”

“Only on paper.”

She waved us off as we got into the van and pulled into the road. Once she was well out of sight, Erick pulled his backpack closer and pulled out the baseball cap to hide his face.

“What did she mean with ‘only on paper’?” he asked.

“She had her licence taken away after hitting a stoplight one too many times,” I said, “she’s been salty about it ever since.”

“Oh that sucks,” Erick said.

“Mhm…it’s busy on the road today, it’s probably better if you sit in the back.”

“Why are we really going back to Phoenix, sir? You still haven’t told me any details.” Erick said, undoing his seatbelt and moving to sit among the luggage.

“To convince the police they can stop looking for you, we need to give them proof that you’re no longer alive,” I said.

“Um…”

“We’re going to fake your death,” I elaborated.

“How?”

“You see that jerrycan?” I said, “it’s full of benzine. A good enough fire can destroy a lot of evidence, but if we leave enough traces of you they won’t bother to look any deeper into it.”

“So…we’re gonna set something on fire? And close enough to Phoenix so that it’ll be linked to me?”

“Bingo,” I said, “but first…eh, you’ll see when we get there. You might want to get some rest. I wanna get started as soon as we get there, we’ll be able to work under the cover of darkness.”

“Alright,” Erick said, getting a little more comfortable in the back.

Even with the new company, the long trip was still rather boring. Not that either of us were the type for road games or something. Fortunately I’d calculated —or rather, I eyeballed— the amount of breaks and time spent on them enough that we arrived while it was pitch black outside.

Erick was asleep in the back, so he had no idea where we were, which was probably better for the time being. I’d taken him back to the farmhouse. Half of my plan relied on luck and Allard’s tendency to…well, be lazy I suppose.

“Ngh…are we there?” Erick asked, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up.

“Yeah,” I said, “grab me a flashlight. Come on.”

He got up with a tired groan, searching my bag and pulling out a flashlight while I opened the side door for him. He handed me the flashlight, looking around a bit while I turned it on.

“W-why are we here?” he asked nervously.

“Because I need a car to torch,” I said, “it’s possible Jack’s car is still here somewhere.”

“But…h-he’s dead, right?”

“Without a doubt,” I said, “come on. Watch where you put your feet, there’s rocks everywhere.”

I took him to the barn, noticing he trailed further and further behind, but I could imagine why, so I decided to let it slide for now. I opened the barn door, shining my torch inside, noticing something that seemed like a car, covered by a dark sheet.

“Come on, there’s no one here,” I said, “help me pull this thing off.”

Erick reluctantly came closer, following me into the barn to pull the cover off the car. After doing that I shone the flashlight on the bumper, recognising the obnoxious abundance of stickers.

“Bingo,” I said, trying the door and finding it was unlocked, “open the doors further, I’ll see if she still runs.”

“Okay,” Erick replied, doing as he was told while I found the keys on the sun visor.

I tried starting the engine, and after sputtering a bit I managed to get it running and backed out of the barn. I parked it next to my van, so it would be ready for the next phase. But first…

“One more thing,” I said, getting back into my van and turning it towards another part of the grounds.

I turned on my high beams to light up as much as I could, before handing the torch to Erick.

“Do you remember where the shovels are?”

“...wh-why do we need shovels?” he asked.

“To believe that you’ve died…the police have to find human remains,” I explained, “this was the first place I thought of. I hope you didn’t fill up on snacks yet. The smell is going to be horrible.”

“So…two shovels or just the one?” Erick asked.

“One,” I said, “this is your mess, I can’t be the one doing all the hard work.”

“Man…”

He took the flashlight and headed back to the barn to grab a shovel, while I got out and tried to pinpoint exactly where I made him bury Tracy. It was the only place where the earth was still a bit more loose than around it, and fairly uneven, as if it had caved in a bit, which tends to happen when a body starts decomposing. This wasn’t going to be pretty, but it had to be done.

“Don’t stop now, you almost got it,” I said, lighting maybe a fifth cigarette.

Erick had paused digging to catch his breath, squinting at me as he had to peer against the light since I was leaning against the hood of the van.

“I don’t wanna throw up,” he whined.

“Keep breathing through your nose, you’ll adapt,” I said, “if you breathe through your mouth it’ll get worse.”

“Can’t I take a break?”

“No, keep digging.”

“Hrm…” he groaned again, but continued, slowly and carefully uncovering the corpse, since I told him to keep him in one piece.

After he dug away enough earth, I finally allowed him to stop.

“Okay, I think you can pull him out now.”

“He’s covered in gross stuff,” Erick said.

“Yeah, but enough should hang on to convince this city’s B-rate cops that he died in the fire,” I said, “now stop complaining, you can change clothes when we’re done. I should’ve grabbed overalls…”

“Oh man…”

“Stop whining!” I said, “just get him out the grave and I’ll help you toss him in the trunk of Jack’s car.”

“Why didn’t you park it closer too?”

“I said stop whining!” I repeated, kicking some dirt in his direction.

He coughed a bit, wiping his face with one hand, before taking a deep breath as he began pulling the decomposing corpse from the shallow grave.

I got back into my van, turning it a bit so it lit up the route from the grave to the car, before getting out again and walking over to the car to open the trunk just as Erick finally got that far. I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed the corpse by the ankles and helped him lift it into the trunk.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I said.

“Can we burn this shirt while we’re at it?” Erick asked, looking at the dark staining on his torso.

“Yeah sure,” I said, “but fill up that hole first. No need to get two shirts dirty.”

“...yes, sir.”

He sighed, heading back to begin scooping the small heaps of dirt scattered around back into the hole. After he was finished, I let him change his shirt by the car while I parked the van beside the barn, hiding it from view from the road. As I returned to the car with the jerrycan of benzine, Erick threw his soiled shirt into the trunk with the corpse, before closing it.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Now we make it look like an accident,” I said, “get in. Put on your seatbelt, it’s gonna be a rough one.”

I put the jerrycan in the backseat and got behind the wheel, before starting the engine and driving off. I didn’t need to go too far, since we’d had to walk back after this, I just needed to find a good spot.

“Oh, that’ll do,” I said, spotting a post on the side of the road.

I slowed down, making a U-turn.

“D-do for what?” Erick asked.

“Cover your head with your arms,” I said, “I’m gonna hit the post.”

“What post—”

CRASH!

It wasn’t that rough in the end. The seatbelts and airbags did their jobs. I didn’t even need my airbag, really.

“Ow…” Erick groaned, rubbing a good burn from his seatbelt as he pulled himself out of his airbag.

“Makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?” I said.

“You could’ve warned me…”

“I did,” I said, “come on, get out.”

He groaned once more, before undoing his seatbelt and stumbling out of the car. I got out as well, grabbing the jerrycan. But before getting to work, I walked around towards Erick, pulling him a couple feet away from the back of the car.

“Now we leave some traces,” I said, “it’s gonna hurt, but you trust me, don’t you?”

“I…y-yes, sir.”

“Good, give me your arm.”

He hesitated a short second, before holding out his right arm. I grabbed it, before pulling out a knife. He gasped, but before he would try to pull away, I’d already cut a nice, deep gash into it.

“Ah! W-why?”

“DNA,” I said, “let it drip on the ground. We’ll make an obvious trail.”

I used the flashlight to determine when he’d spilled enough. Then I dragged him towards the car, instructing him to really dig his heels into the sand, before I lifted him to sit on top of the trunk while I pulled a package of gauze from my pocket and put pressure on the cut.

“Hold that in place,” I said, “I’m gonna carry you over to the asphalt so there’s only one set of prints from here on.”

“O-okay…”

I waited for him to get a good grip on his arm, before lifting him off the trunk and walking over to the asphalt before putting him down.

“Wait here while I torch the thing,” I said, before heading back, picking up the jerrycan and beginning to douse the insides and outsides of the car.

Then I made a little trail towards the asphalt so I wouldn’t have to be too close for the ignition. I put the can down and lit a cigarette, viewing my work for a second.

“Yeah, that’ll do,” I said, “even if they determine the fire was set on purpose, they’ll think it was done to conceal your death, remove evidence of who done it, yada yada.”

“And they’ll stop looking for me?” Erick asked.

“Yeah, cause they’ll think they’ve found you. Or your corpse at least.”

“...thank you, sir.”

“Whatever,” I said, taking a drag from my cigarette, before offering it to him, “do you wanna do the honour?”

Another second of hesitation, before he took the half-smoked cigarette and dropped it onto the benzine. The fuel immediately ignited, travelling quickly towards the car before nearly blinding us both as it blazed up into a giant ball of fire.

“Whoa,” Erick said.

“Worth it, isn’t it?” I said.

“It’s kinda awesome, yeah…”

“Either way, rest in peace I guess,” I said, “as far as the police and the media are concerned, that’ll be the end of your story.”

“No,” Erick said, “just the end of a chapter I think.”

“Don’t get all poetic on me, that’s my thing,” I said, “come on, let’s head back and get the fuck out of this stupid desert.”

<Prev | Masterlist | Next>

[sugarwithsarcasm]

Was it so much for Dipper to ask to get to explore Gravity Falls without the forest throwing a complete wrench at him and ruining his plans? It was always either a) a massive threat that would harm him and trap him in the woods or b) a minor inconvenience that took way more time to solve than it should have.

But even Mabel didn't have being forced to marry a Gnome king (?) in front of his boyfriend who would just laugh at him on her "Reasons why Dipper STILL isn't back yet" bingo card.

Dipper cursed under his breath at the tiny gang of gnomes who cackled as they led him to the tallest building in their gnome village, (about the height of the absolutely ancient speaker set that Grunkle Stan refused to give away because “it still works, if you want one of those fancy bluetooth speakers either steal it or buy it yourself kid!”) pulling him along a loose vine near his hip, forcing him to walk past the gnome village, bound tightly by a bunch of vines after accidentally falling into their “wife trap” while trying to inspect velociraptor prints he had found in the edge of the forest.

“Wooo eee, boss yer not gonna BELIEVE THIS!!!” The white-bearded gnome who sounded eerily like Mcgucket knocked on the door. The door opened, the king gnome (?) walking out of his tiny castle, luckily saving Dipper the humiliation of having to crawl on his belly to enter.

“My WIFE TRAP!!!” The man cried out, doing a little dance, clicking his heels together in the air. “It’s finally gone and trapped me a wife!!” He leered at Dipper, smirking.

“But sir!” A weirdly buff gnome who he assumed was this gnome king’s (??) the bodyguard interrupted his happy dance. “This human appears to be a male!”

The gnome king (???) frowned at him, causing the buff gnome to cower. “You ain’t think I got eyeballs Jerry?! Of course I know he’s male, but look at ‘em, he’s feminine enough for me to consider him my wife!”

“ Excuse you.” Dipper scowled at the brown-bearded gnome, exasperated with himself for having screwed up on enough life decisions to lead him to being in a situation where his masculinity was being insulted by an elderly gnome. “Anyways, there seems to be a misunderstanding, I am not getting married to some elderly garden gnome, I just lost my step in the forest so if you could please just let me go-”

“Silence!” The gnome king (????) gestured for Jerry the buff gnome to kick Dipper’s ankles. “You will be my wife, I have wasted enough of my vines catching stupid phoenix’s and unicorn, I will not be passing on such a wonderful opportunity.”

Before Dipper had a chance to use rather colorful language to curse this gnome out, the Mcgucket gnome interjected, “Now, now, as the town lawyer, I must remind ya sir that there is a rule against forcing the victim of your wife trap to marry yer without the consent of the wife.”

Dipper was about to celebrate, but instead noticed the smug grin of the gnome king (?????), killing any remaining hope he had. “Well, well, well. You think I didn’t know that? My ex-wife’s failed attempts to murder me is the reason that their law was put in place!”

Dipper sighed heavily, thoroughly regretting his life decisions, “I wonder if I just fall forward if the impact of this castle would be enough to give me a concussion?”

The gnome king (??????) ignored him and continued, “So I decided to make sure that any new wife caught in my wife trap would consent to being my wife beforehand! Look closely at the vine he got caught in gentlemen.”

Jerry the buff gnome snatched the loose vine from McGucket the gnomes hand, squinting his eyes as he examined it, “By stepping on this here vine and getting stuck like a dinosaur in amber, you consent to be Jeff Geoff Goffrey’s wife.”

“Well bury me in the ground and call me a groundhog,” McGucket gnome snapped his fingers, “I’ll be darn tooting, looks like you’ve got yourself a wife who finally consents to being your wife!”

“What?! No!!!” Dipper yelped, “I couldn’t have possibly had read that, the writings to tiny! Plus it’s a VINE in a FOREST! I can’t be expected to examine every single vine I come across for an agreement to marriage!”

“Jerry,” The gnome king dismissed him again (no wonder he couldn’t find a wife naturally) “go send the Wedding Invitations to the Mystery Shack and stop by to get a cake on your way back, the wedding will be at sunset!” Jerry the buff gnome nodded and quickly began awkwardly jogging out into the forest. “Jason, go and invite the boys from the neighboring gnome villages – you know who I like and who I don’t – and tell them about my wedding and keep an eye on my bride, I need to start preparing for my big day!” And before Dipper could get out another word, the tiny gnome door was slammed shut on him.

“Ugh, this is not fair! That contract has got to be breaking some kind of laws or, or something!” Dipper sputtered, glancing at Jason, the gnome who gave him a blank looking smile.

“I don’t really agree either if it helps!” He beamed, as if expecting validation and praise from Dipper who merely rolled his eyes.

“Well you're a lawyer! Raise a complaint, find a judge to review the situation or something!”

“I would kid, but cases take ages to get reviewed by a judge around here,” he began leading Dipper into the woods, “I’m the town’s only judge, and I got a nasty habit of putting things off until the last minute.”

Yeah, Dipper was screwed.

---

Bill cackled as he ran up from Ford’s basement after the boring old elderly man had thrown him out for messing with his experiment. Much to this amusement, at the exact moment he entered, he saw Mabel speeding towards the front door and flinging it open, excitedly struggling to open an envelope.

“What’cha got there shooting star? Anyone died recently making you expect a big inheritance?” Bill casually walked over to Mabel, peering over her shoulder at the envelope.

“Nope! Even better!!!” She clawed at the sticky envelope, “I ordered a raffle ticket into the Bad Boyz 4 eva ultimate fan experience concert! My tickets should be getting here any day now, since Waddles already told me I’d win and that oinker of mine is totally psychic.” She began biting at the letter and finally ripped it open.

Her look of excitement quickly dropped to a frown. “Well? What’s it say?”

She sighed, mumbling how she was “too old to deal with this shit.” After a moment she cleared her throat and read in her best impression of a gnome, “Dear residents of the Mystery Shack, you are passive-aggressively invited to attend the totally not forced union of Jeff Geoff Goffrey and Dipper Pines. I still don’t like you, but I want to rub in your faces that I’ve moved on from Mabel Pines. Gifts are mandatory if you want to attend. The wedding is at sunset tonight, the same place as last time. P.S I attached a lock of my future wife’s hair as proof this is totally not a trap. Stay jealous haters.”

Bill cackled, “Man, what did he do now to get him all caught up by a bunch of gnomes? I swear, your brother sometimes even surprises ME.”

Mabel sighed and shook her head, shrieking as a lock of soft looking brown hair fell out of the envelope. “Oooo, do you think that’s actually Dipper’s hair and not like a Grizzly or something?”

Bill took one glance at it and could immediately recognize it as Dipper’s, “Nah, it's totally Pine Tree’s. I know for sure. It’s his hair color and has the same texture.”

Mabel gave him a blank expression, “That’s a little weird Bill.”

He laughed, “If you want to hear weird than–”

“Lalalalala, going to my happy place, pushing Waddles around in a baby stroller at Disneyland!” She singed, plugging her ears with her fingers. “Anyways, tell Dipper I can’t make it because I have a totally hot date with Pacifica today.” Mabel waltzed out of the room hallway and into her bedroom, still singing.

Bill grinned, he couldn’t wait to crash the wedding.

---

“Now I know ya might be nervous,” Jason the gnome lectured Dipper as he tugged him along (he had really hoped they would’ve untied him by now, his arms and legs were sore and his feet hurt from having to hop everywhere.) “But when yer on the verge of a panic attack cause yer so overcome with excitement, just do what I do to calm down, breathe, acclimate, relax and focus, or BARF for short!!!”

Dipper sighed as he turned to walk down the aisle, dressed in some makeshift white cloth they had draped over him that they called a wedding gown and a flower crown. He noticed a horde of gnomes, the only person he recognized was his boyfriend Bill who was grinning at him evilly.

“You look absolutely stunning sapling, I must say, for such a rushed wedding-” Bill started as he passed him.

“Oh shut it and get me out of here already!” Dipper barked at him, earning a tug from Jason and a snicker from Bill.

“Nah, I think I’ll just watch the show. It’s about time you suffer the consequences from barking up the wrong tree, Pine Tree.” Bill smirked and sat back down with the rest of the gnomes on the floor when Dipper reached the front of the altar, where the gnome king (????????) was beaming at him.

Jason the gnome held onto Dipper with the vine, but moved in the middle of him and Jeff. “Gentle-gnomes! We are gathered here today to celebrate the wife trapping of Jeff Geoff Goffrey!” The gnomes in the crowd cheered, Bill, who Dipper was staring at out of the corner of his eyes, simply raised an eyebrow at Dipper and then winked, clearly very amused. “To begin, Jeff, you may now kiss your bride!”

“ What .” Dipper felt his face fluster as he came face to face with Jeff the gnome, who had his lips puckered, making obnoxious kissing noises. He hoped that Bill would see this as the time to interject, knowing his boyfriend’s jealous streak, but much to his surprise Bill seemed to be trying his best not to burst out into laughter. “No! Isn’t this part supposed to come at the very end of the wedding?!?”

“Well urm,” Jason the gnome scratched his head with his free hand, “that’s a very good point. But as per the request of Jeff Geoff Goffrey, I decided to shorten up the wedding a bit, I got a surgery to perform tomorrow morning y'know?”

“Enough with the chitter chatter,” Jeff barked, before leaning in and cupping Dipper’s face with his grubby hands, pulling him close to his face…and then closer… and then bam! Dipper felt the taste of maple syrup as Jeff’s much too chapped lip met with his, he felt like he was going to barf, so tried to take a moment to follow Jason’s instructions to barf, but recoiled in disgust as Jeff attempted to bite his bottom lip.

The forest erupted in the cheers of gnomes, continuing even after Dipper had squirmed out of Jeff’s grasp. The second he broke the kiss, he sent a worried glance over at Bill, fearing that the his dream demon boyfriend would somehow be mad at him for practically cheating on him, but was instead very annoyed as he looked over at Bill who was practically dying of genuine laughter, to the point where he was wheezing and grabbing the attention of the very annoyed gnomes surrounding him.

“Gentle-gnomes!” Jason the Gnome announced once the applause (and hysterical hyena laughs) had begun dying out. “Before we concede and make this official, are there any of you who wish to oppose this union and agree to a duel against Jeff.”

Dipper smiled to himself as he watched Bill slowly get up, still chuckling to himself. “I have an opposition to this union!”

The room gasped, gnomes moving out of Bill’s way staring at him in shock as he sauntered over to Dipper, grinning. Jeff huffed and crossed his arms, “And what might that be?”

“You see, it just so happens that your so-called wife is madly in love with me, like, to the point of obsession.” He looked over at Dipper, mischief in his eyes, “Like, it’s very concerning Dipper.”

“Oh shut up,” Dipper rolled his eyes, trying his best to hide the wide smile on his face, “it’s about time you do something. I was starting to reconsider cuddling.”

Bill pouted at him, before breaking out into an even bigger grin, “and after having to watch your lame attempt at a kiss,” Jeff’s face began to grow red with anger or embarrassment, probably both, “I thought I’d finally entertain my poor little sapling and give you a lesson on what a real kiss is like.”

And with that he leaned over to Dipper, the vines binding him together disintegrating as he touched them. Dipper couldn’t hide the smile on his face any longer, and smiled wider when he noticed a similar beaming look on Bill’s face. Bill wrapped his arms around Dipper’s mid-back and pressed their foreheads together for a moment, before unexpectedly dipping him kissing him, the flower crown he was wearing slipping off and falling to the ground with a silent thud.

Dipper enjoyed kissing Bill, more than he’d ever admit to the already overly arrogant dream demon. This kiss wasn’t as emotional as their first one, as fiery as their occasional late night ones or as desperate and relieved as his heartbreaking ones, instead, it was comfortable, almost routine. The way Bill grabbed Dipper firmly, yet kissed him so gently and caringly, as if Bill was scared of breaking him, made his head dizzy. The feeling of Bill’s soft lips pressing against his slightly chapped lips, without any of the extra add ons and bells and whistles of kissing was bliss and Dipper was certain he could’ve happily melted right there in Bill’s arms.

That is, if they weren’t kissing in front of about 45 horrified looking gnomes.

The sound of Jeff clearing his throat broke the kiss between the two of them, Bill holding firmly onto Dipper and bringing him close to his chest, now in an upright position. “And that, my dear short gardening decoration, is how you woo a Pine Tree.” He said smugly, resting his chin on Dipper’s embarrassingly dirty hair.

“This-” Jeff stumbled on his words, yelling something in a language Dipper didn’t recognize (that Bill would later tell him was Finnish, because hey, why the heck not?) and then jumping off his little make-shift podium and attacking Bill’s leg.

Bill cackled at the gnome. “Oh you wanna fight? Well, my next move I guess HUH? Hold onto your cap kid!” He shook his leg, dropping Jeff to the ground, and then promptly kicking him so hard he flew above the trees and into the horizon, screams of revenge echoing throughout the forest.

The gnomes screeched as they saw their gnome king (?????????) fly off into the now starry night sky, with the exception of one gnome that just yelled “Shmebulock!” in a victorious tone.

“Come on kid, let’s go home.” Bill grinned, grabbing one arm around Dipper’s waist and snapping his other hand. In one quick, dizzying moment, they returned to their room in the shack, still entangled in each other’s arms.

“You’re such an asshole. ” Dipper tried to scowl and push Bill away. “Making me go through all of that. How I have the patience to deal with you astounds me.”

Bill laughed, “Ah, but kid, you should have seen the look of horror and disgust on your face! In my defense I’m a demon, these things are hilarious to me.” Bill pulled Dipper closer to him, nudging Dipper to look him eye to eye, their noses brushing against each other. “You knew this and yet look at you, voluntarily exchanging passionate kisses with a dream demon in public.” He pressed a soft, quick kiss against Dipper’s lips.

“Yeah yeah, I didn’t agree with the public meaning in front of an entire village of gnomes though.” Dipper swatted Bill’s chest, secretly relishing in his warm laughter.

“Aw come on kid, be honest with yourself, you’d get yourself in situations like these all the time if I wasn’t here! Don’t give me all the credit,” he kissed Dipper’s cheek, “your the train wreck in this relationship.”

“Excuse you.” Dipper frowned. “Anyways, I’m gonna go take a quick shower, feel dirty after being abandoned for a whole day from my asshole boyfriend-”

Bill snapped his fingers, and suddenly Dipper felt refreshed and clean. “Done,” Bill smiled, flopping down into their shared bed, “come cuddle with meeee.”

Dipper gave him a strange look, “someone’s extra affectionate today?”

“Don’t be difficult Pine Tree, I can still easily snap you out of this plane’s existence.”

“Alright, alright,” Dipper raised his hands, before climbing under the blankets with Bill, “there. Happy?”

Bill hummed in response, hugging Dipper from his back, leaving a small trail of kisses from his neck to his jaw. Dipper relaxed in the affectionate and comfortable gesture, the exhaustion of the day slowly wearing him down.

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he heard Bill whisper in his ear, “Sapling? This whole marriage stuff…the whole human societal convention where you brag about love and commitment and all of that other fake jazz done to make partner’s feel more guilty about breaking up..what do you think about it?”

“Hmm? Marriage? I think it’s pretty sweet actually. Getting to exchange vows and tell each other how much you love and are devoted to each other in front of close friends. I guess I always imagined myself having one and kind of got attached to the romantics of it all.” Dipper mumbled, half asleep.

Bill flipped Dipper over so they were facing each other. He could see Bill with a soft smile, a special smile he knew was reserved just for him, through his half-lidded eyes. “Sapling, my little Pine Tree, I have given you my demon form, my mind, my black hole of a heart and if I still had it I wouldn’t think twice before giving you my soul. It scares me how much I’d sacrifice for you and how much you make me feel…undemon to say the least kid.” He squeezed Dipper, “Maybe I haven’t shoved cake in your face in front of your sister, but make no mistake my little sapling, I’ve been devoted since day one.”

“I know, Bill. Don’t worry. I love you too, asshole.” Dipper mumbled, beaming as he began to doze off.

“I love you too sapling,” he pressed a kiss to the stars on Dipper’s forehead, before drifting off to sleep himself, “more than you may ever realize.”

Dipper dreamed of weddings that day, not a disastrous one, but a happy, romantic one, the kind he’d envisioned for himself when he was twelve and watching say yes to the dress reruns with Mabel. He knew though, that wouldn’t happen. Bill mocked human conventions constantly, and the concept of marriage itself was not free from Bill’s wrath. But, it didn’t really matter to Dipper if he was being honest, he was content where he was with Bill at that moment in time, he was happy with it all.

Little did he know, Bill had gone ring shopping with Mabel that very next day.

[rudie-wr1tes]

Endless Passion- A Sandman Fan Fiction

III. Parasomnia

Synopsis: In exchange for the Dreamstone gives- it takes the form of destruction and the loss of life, even with the best of intentions. Sabine learns the hard way that it was never meant for mortal hands to wield. In exchange for the lives lost, she attempts to take her own- but what happens, when Death herself, refuses?

Sabine and Quinn stood over Kalea’s sleeping body. Kalea slept stiffly on her back, in the same position as the nights before. The time was three in the morning, as the blaring red of her alarm clock so harshly reminded them. There was a chair under the door handle to her apartment, with several locks bound to its hinges. All windows were dark, latched thrice to keep out the tooth eyed man. Sabine’s eyes were glassy as she stood over her sister, holding the Dreamstone in her clammy palm. Quinn observed Kalea, studying every inch of her. She plucked her eye open, putting a flashlight to it, frowning in response at her glazed pupils. 

Quinn gently closed her eyeball and sighed. Sabine was screaming internally, kicking herself for ever letting it get this way. They had tried everything to wake her, but Kalea, sweet young Kalea was content. Just as Sabine remembered when their mother first took Kalea home from the hospital as an infant, holding her in her arms. She was too happy in that state, dreaming away her life here. Sabine swallowed hard, wiping her eyes. The stone felt heavy in her hand, burning her skin slowly like ice on salt. Memories of the tooth eyed man flashed in her retinas, as her other hand ran across the front of her throat. 

“Her vitals are normal, given the circumstances.” Quinn muttered, “How long did you say she’s been this way?” 

“Almost a week.” Sabine admitted, “And I haven’t been able to wake her up. I tried everything to wake her up. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to wake up either.” 

Quinn nodded, her head tilting to the side, “That’ll do it….” Quinn heavily sighed as tone went from apathetic to scathing, “What the fuck were you thinking, Sabine?!” 

Without raising her tone, Sabine could feel herself falling apart. 

She began pacing across the floor, still in her dress from that night, “I juts don’t understand… All I wanted to do was take away the night terrors, the nightmares too.” 

“Well, you did it too good.” Quinn remarked, “And frankly, I’m not sure how to help you. You got anything in those journals that can help?” 

Sabine’s phone began buzzing violently in her purse on the counter. She quickly went for it, seeing the caller ID coming from the hospital where Erin was for her sleep therapy. Sabine looked up to Quinn in fear, who bore her gaze down, motioning her to answer. 

“Hello?” Sabine’s voice broke the silence of Kalea’s bedroom. 

“Dr. Kanaka-” A nurse stammered, “This is Travis, the nurse from Erin’s study.” 

“Yes.” Sabine nodded, “What seems to be the trouble?” 

“It’s Erin.” The nurse uttered, “She fell into a comatose state. She isn’t waking up, and her son is incredibly upset right now.” 

Sabine’s stomach dropped, lips frozen and parted. Quinn took a deep breath and shook her head. 

“You fucking didn’t-” Quinn said in a low voice, “Sabine, don’t tell me you used it on her too.”

“We will be right there.” Sabine’s voice cracked, as a part of her soul seemed to chip away in her breast from guilt, “Please try and tell him I can explain. I can make this right, I can-” 

“I’m tyring to, Doctor, but he’s very- Sir-” Travis stammered, “Sir, I’m on the phone, please have a seat-” 

“What the fuck did you do to my mother?!” A sob stricken voice broke through the static, making her flinch, “Wake her up! Get down here and make her better again! She might as well be dead, thanks to you, you fucking quack!” 

Sabine swallowed tears of her own, her chin twitching to the side, “We will be there momentarily, sir. I am not sure why-” 

“Not sure?!” he roared, “Not sure?! Bullshit! I don’t want to fucking-” 

Quinn snatched the phone out of Sabine’s ear and pressed it to her face, “HEY! We understand there is a complication with your mother, but you do not talk to us like this. She has done nothing wrong. Your mother signed the paperwork with a DNR knowing this treatment would be experimental.” 

“I will sue your asses for it then!” He wept, “I’ll sue this god forsaken hospital if I have to!” 

Sabine took the phone again and hung it up in a swift motion. A moment of silence fell onto them. 

“You don’t always need to come to my defense.” Sabine muttered, sitting down at the feet of her sleeping sister’s body. 

“And you don’t need to mess with spooky shit to solve all the world’s problems.” Quin quipped, sitting beside her, “Don’t you remember all the adventure movies we watched and there was a bad guy who was like ‘Hmm, let’s use this thing beyond our understanding to fix our problems!’ and literally made everything worse?” 

Sabine ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. 

“You’re right. I don’t know if I can wake her up either.” 

Quinn nodded, “We’ve got to do our homework. I think…. I think it’s time I tell you something too.” 

Sabine looked up at her friend, furrowing her brows. 

“Later. We gotta calm the patient’s son down first.”  

After stumbling into some more appropriate clothes, the pair left to the hospital in hopes to deescalte the fury of Erin’s son- to some success, they did. Sabine held back from using the Dreamstone to ease him, but the last thing she needed to do was ruin another person’s waking life. 

Sunrise crept in through the X Ray room on the other end of Erin’s dwelling. Sabine hunched over a desk to observe the recent CT scans, to only find nothing. Her brain was perfectly in tact- lucid. With the same gentle smile Kalea had across her lips. It didn’t make sense to Sabine, as she filtered through the ancient texts in her files. Nothing was adding up. And only more misfortune would come onto their families if she didn’t help. 

Only but one name came to mind. Dread filled her, remembering it appear constantly. The name she first saw appear in Ovid’s Metamoprhasies in university. A second in the texts she scoured to find the relic. A face, she could only recall in dreams from years prior before they  stopped becoming predictive of the future- one of pale skin, the bluest eyes, and jet black hair, whose lips pursed into dust. Each night she researched this figure, the picture would become clearer, but something held her back… Almost like a barrier. But there was no one else now. She stared into nothing, fingertips softly brushing the cord connecting the Dreamstone. 

“Lord Morpheus of Dream.” She whispered softly, “I call upon you for guidance. Help me right the wrongs I’ve created in abusing power that was not meant for me.” 

Sabine looked down, seeing the Dreamstone flicker and faintly glow. 

She waited still, listening outside beyond the door. Eyes glancing to the windows before her. Hoping to see a face- something, anything to reassure her she did right. The power shuddered off on the floor. Sabine opened her eyes to the darkness, as the fluorescent bulbs burst into nothing over her head. Her breathing stopped, silence ringing so loud in her ears that she could hear her own heart racing. 

The only response was glass shattering in Erin’s room. Sabine jumped to her feet, unable to run to the door. She was frozen in her stance, watching footsteps from underneath the office door hurry into the room. A commotion erupted- one of the voices belonging to Travis- suddenly cut off in the sound of a struggle. More crashes of metal, machines falling to their side. Sabine shoved the Dreamstone into her coat pocket before running into the hall. Flickering lights obscured her vision, as she fled down the hallway towards Erin’s room, nearly slipping on a substance between fallen medical equiptment. She gasped, catching herself on the wall. 

“What the hell?” She said in a near whisper, “No…. no.” 

Blood splattered on the walls, painted on her hands, in the treads of her boots, and a sickness fell over her stomach, getting to the entrance of Erin’s room. A scream formed in the corners of her mouth, but no sound came out, as she saw the carnage before her. 

Erin’s eyes were gouged out into two bloody pits. As was Travis- whose limp body rested back in the hospital chair, blood splattered over the computer. He must’ve been typing in her vitals. 

The blonde headed figure knelt over the sink, washing the blood from his hands in his khaki, without a single stain to them. His back faced Sabine, whistling an old tune like someone washing dishes on a chore day. Blood pounded in Sabine’s ears as she picked up a shard of glass from the ground, clutching it in her right palm. 

“Get out of my world, you ungodly thing.” She said through gritted teeth, a sob making her voice waiver. 

The man calmly finished washing his hands and reached for the paper towels as if it were another Tuesday morning. Her blood boiled, as he stood unbothered in the massacre, turning slowly to her. 

“Sorry, were you talking to me?” He asked in a cool tone, “Oh. There you are. I reckon you’d be here. “ 

As he turned, she saw rows of teeth in place of eyes, curling into sick smiles. 

“Damn you.” Sabine sneered, spiting at the ground before him, “You bring chaos wherever you go. Whatever power you think you’ll get from the Dreamstone will only bring pain.” 

Her tears betrayed her, fogging the edges of her vision. And he had the audacity to laugh, putting his hands in his pockets. 

“That’s the whole point of the game, ma cherie.” He mised, “I had an offer after all. All of this could’ve been prevented. But no. You’re the one who had to make this so difficult.” 

Sabine’s focus darted to Erin’s son, and his body hunched forward in the corner of the room. She wondered where Quinn was, where anyone else was. If there were more bodies… 

Tears fell down her cheeks as he stepped closer. There was too much blood, and he was getting in her head. She created space, stepping back with each step ge took forward. 

“It’s not my fault.” She said, her voice quavering. 

“Oh, but it is,” He laughed, “You mortals always like to make everything so complicated. But the answer’s been in front of you for so long.” 

The Corinthian reached forward and traced a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Sabine’s eyes flinched shut, as blood trailed down her cheek. 

“Now I have to show your sister what happens when you don’t listen, right?” He hummed with a smug grin. 

“What have you done with her?” Sabine’s voice raised, holding the shard in her hands, “Don’t you fucking touch her!” 

“Then give me what I want.” He said in a soothing tone, “Before you end up-” 

“I never asked for this!” Sabine screamed in blind rage, “You are not of my world! Get out! Leave this place and take your blood with you! Go!” 

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” He said, attempting to grab her. Sabine dodged his grasp, ramming the shard deep into his exposed ribs and running straight towards the exit. The impact of the glass knocked him back, stumbling into the wall, but not for long. 

She had spent her life running, and now she was watching herself run from the third point of view. She watched, as her hair came undone from the jaw clip, her curls falling in ribbons over her shoulders. How her rounded face contotrted into an expression of grief, palened by fear. The way her coat caught the early morning sun, how long had it been since they arrived? No, she thought, that’s not my coat, my coat wasn’t covered in blood when I came here. She was running from her fears. From relationships. From friendships and mistakes Now from a creature after making a grave mistake. Failure, after failure, now costing lives that were in her hands. Quinn’s voice felt gummy in her ears. Sabine watched Quinn call to her. Flashing police lights, distant calls for her to stop. She ran, and her mind was elsewhere with the dreamstone in her hand. Only one request came as she made it out of the hospital wing doors through the emergency exit- sanctuary. Home. Wonder. Magic. Somewhere she could be safe, somewhere she couldn’t harm anyone else. Somewhere she could dream forever than subject anyone to an eternal slumber again. To punish herself in darkness for harming those. Sabine fled down a dark corner of the alley with Quinn on her heels, remembering a place she hadn’t seen in years, only in dreams im what felt like a lifetime ago. Fragments of a world with ornate ivory gates, rising to the heavens, a palace of stone and strange creatures, bodies of water filled with ship sails and hope. An eternal library full of books she used to stroke the spines of. Sabine’s limbs felt numb as she ran. Syllables melted and gurgled in the back of her throat, a mix between a scream and a cry to god for mercy from it all. The man’s teeth for eyes reminded her of everything that she hated about humanity in herself. Shapes of concrete slab and chipping building paint buldged together into clay textures, as she leaned against the wall, feeling it pull her in like quicksand. 

Quinn put her hands to her face, tapping her cheeks- the sensation feeling as if Sabine was in a fish bowl, and couldn’t escape. Quinn’s face blurred into her mother’s face- her mother’s face blurred into her father’s, then her sister’s, then her great great grand aunty who haunted the foyer of their bungalow in Lahina. The Aunty Nina, with sad downturned eyes and browned apple skin, nodding softly in sorrow. 

“Aunty, I want to go home.” Sabine whispered, “Aunty, I don’t want to be covered in blood. I want to be with you.” 

It was Sabine’s only solution. Her life, in exchange for another. Even if it didn’t have the gates of horn and ivory, into the pits of hell, living wasn’t worth bearing the pain of what she took any longer.

☥

And in a great blast of white and blue hues, like a cosmic collison, everything went to black. Sabine sighed in relief, welcoming the darkness with open arms, as she felt them carry her body as if it were weightless. Rocking, with each step, lulling her. Finally, the veil was thinning. She couldn’t punish anyone anymore for her foolishness. But a gentle hand brushing her cheek stirred her. Sabine opened her eyes. 

The face Sabine clung to formed into one she did not know- of rich ebony skin and a glowing ankh, whose thumb brushed back her tears.  

“No, my dear.” Death whispered, “You don’t want to die, you don’t want to live this way. Now is not your time. Fate has more in store for you. Your soul is weary. Rest now, and you will see.” 

And Sabine sighed, finally being understood only by the angel of death herself. Her eyes fell closed into a gentle, dreamless rest. 

Or so she thought. 

[the-fandom-hopping-mage]

doctor who 1996 movie

stop hurting the tardis pls she's the best and doesn't deserve any of the shit you put her through doctor

why is the master a slug

I know he was a cat once is he trying to start a collection

oh no he's horrified, you can tell by the fact that you can see the entirety of his eyeball

wait are time lord remains just slime is that what they're trying to say

AGH FISH

AGH KNIFE

well if you're gonna run away do it the second you see the car not when he's seen you and starts pulling in

hehe idiots the car's gonna come around the corner and probably hit you

how tf is he not dead on a slab

bro zig zag you gotta run zig zag

don't worry random child you're getting saved by an alien who's about to get shot by those guys and his boyfriend who took over his space machine

NOOO STOP HURTING HER shes probably fine but STILL STOP HURTING HER

why did he fall like that tat was hilarious "eugh" *le death* he sounds like a swooning victorian maiden

for the record I totally called his death

and that car

hey it's the tardis she's not a thing don't be rude she's the best character ever

how tf did he get over there

oh its not the doctor its the kid's dead friends

hello random child are you excited to see a dying man EXPLODE

why is he so casual about it "oh yeah guy who's bleeding out and just got shot hm .......................................... I'm gonna call you an ambulance"

oh hehehe the hospital is gon be so confused

oh ominous music did the master follow his boyfriend to the hospital that's rly sweet

wait where are the wounds

is this bitch dying from a shot to the arm

weak

WHERE DID THAT COME FROM THAT WASNT THERE EARLIER

if your listening to his heart why do you need a scalpel girl i don't think hearing = seeing

he's aliiiiiiiveeeee

isn't he back already stop electrocuting him

they're gonna be besties i know it <3

he's on his side how is he snoring

i can suspend my disbelief for aliens and shit but real life stuff you should get right

why are the lights outside changing colors is it aliens or just lighting

oh wait do they live next to a traffic light that would make sense

the doctor: thank you very much kind sir i shall 😴

we're 21 minutes in cut to the chase and die already please

also girl stop pouting his snoring isn't even that loud

oh now i understand what ppl meant by 'the master wants to be inside the doctor'

doctor who is so weird i love it

where's the lightning coming from

oh was that the 90s regeneration energy

rude i already made that joke like ten minutes ago keep up

isn't that a pull door excuse me

how did he hear that from two rooms away

wow ominous punching noises in the morgue you should definitely come closer to it

OMG IT'S ALIEN JESUS

"oh my gawd"

doctor: um rude

hehe the movie is still mimicking him

what's with all the convenient long dark ominous backlit hallways for the main character to pose dramatically in in media why are there so many

*ps i made popcorn :)*

some doctors (nine/ten) regenerate into a romcom. this doctor regenerated into a horror movie

hehehe he still has the john doe tag on the toe

where did he go why is everything destroyed the horror movie thing was a JOKE

in that shot he looks like owen wilson

bro the jesus thing was also a joke

i know who you are you're frankenstein

first i thought we were in asia then i thought we were in London now we're actually in san fransisco

hehehe it's the scarf

hehehe its a face

ngl that mirror does not look like its reflecting his face properly

nope sorry kit it's not a memory chamber no chameleon archs involved here

"I need the doctor's body" yeah i see what yall meant that's a totally sane and normal thing to say about your not-at-all-boyfriend

hehe they made the jesus jokes too

shut ft up bitch and stop talking to her like she's six years old you can pick up the goddamn pace with your fucking words

"bitch watch me"

how far did he back up

he's in the car

ha haha

why is there a security guard from the outside there is nothing wrong with that car

"grace why aren't you understanding this i have thirteen lives and two hearts pls its so obvious try to keep up"

and here we go again

that looks so cozy i want to live in that tardis

*deep voice* "it is me. i am the boy friend of the doc tor. i want his bo dy."

"Bah ruce don't scare me like that pls"

how does he know his name yall met once

awwwwwwwwwwwww she likes himmmmmmm

I'm rly a guy w/ weird eyes

text does not do justice to theweird voices I'm using (cause I'm saying half this shit aloud first)

BITCH WHY ARE YOU GOING CLOSER

"he's Nat Ded"

"oh shit i offended his boyfriend someone's in the denial stage of grief"

he did nat steal yo body bitch you're stealing his

i like this kid

omg shes literally me i eat pens too

yay he has shoes finally

*investigative glass* my scientific deduction is that that red liquid you took from my body seems to be my own blood, how curious

"iTs NoT bLoOd" ok girliepop what is it then?????? id love to know

aw i love hearing him talk about gallifrey without that underlying note of grief and pain and loss that all the nuwho doctors have

omg ive seen that shoe clip its so cute and silly

*run run run run run* he got the zoomies

girl: *looks into camera like the office*

*stealing from boyfriend* omg parallels to the whatsisface boyfriend

"you know this is all mine" i burst out laughing i honest to god died

ALL THE TIME LORDS ARE SO CASUAL ABOUT THIS "OH YEAH HES DEAD BUT HES ALIVE NOW NBD" "OH YEAH I HAVE TWO HEARTS WDYM YOU DONT"

"unspeakable crimes" you can say sex

how did he recognize gold dust on sight

kid its probably sand why tf would the doctor have gold dust

"DeAl"

omg its a golden snitch

"well of course it used to belong to me" I'm actually dying i cant

um bro that thing is the size of his body even if he is the 'chosen one' or whatever bs you're feeding him he probably couldn't lift it

bitch HOW

finally bro's catching on to the bs he's spouting

"i know who i am! im the type of guy who kisses women randomly!"

"doct-eah" they're so married

THIS IS SO RIDICULOUS "hes planning to take my body so that he will live and i will die :0 *run*"

doctor: honeslty woman try to keep up why isn't this making so much sense to you

first intelligent thing that woman has done all day

well that's conveinient

"oh fuck its my evil boyfriend"

aw chickens

"he's . . . british." HA

"jelly baby, officer?"

none of these people should have a license

good to know that his horrible driving skills apply to every vehicle not just the tardis

"you kill me" yes that is what will happen to you when the master gets his way excellent deduction

girl's got her priorities straight: alcohol > clock

how is that working there isn't any tension on the wheel they should be plummeting

THERE she is <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

weoweoweOWEOWEOWEOWEO "i cant find the brakes!?" *distant echoing weoweoweoWEOWEOWEOWEOWEO "aaaaaaah"

close your front doors idiot

why does she know that is she possessed by the slime

hehehe called it

"and you beLIVE him????" facts

BAHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GOD HE LOOKS SO STUPID DOES HE REALLY WANT TO BECOME FUCKING RASSILON????? HA

ok someone's sucking up to the kid

Lee's like wtaf is going on

oops i ran out of space on the other text block

i feel like she's faking or smth she looks like an angel w/ that thing and he's coughing

"i would never lie to you i would only protect you" funny how none of that is true even remotely

how the hell do all these characters remember all these super specific spoken instructions during high stakes situations, i can't even remember spoken instructions on a regular day

cant she just pull out one of the huge pole things wouldn't that stop it

he's always so kind even to the ppl who are actively trying to kill him and the entire planet

I CANT HAHA ITS SO STUPID

i don't think it's the tardis who's sentimental, doctor

SHE ATE HIM

why are we all so tense

that poor guy

you go boy

i despise these 90s romance arcs theyre so horrible yall met two hours ago

thats sweet

wait how does he die then

*after google* ohhh okay guess ive gotta watch the 50th anniversary now

[floralcyanide]

― 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 (nsfw)

⌯ pairing: billy the kid / fem!reader ⌯ warnings: mentions of guns, descriptions of guns, use of guns, mentions of death, major character death, graphic descriptions of grief, smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, biting, mutual orgasm, angst, squirting, multiple orgasms ⌯ word count: 3.1k ⌯ summary: billy the kid, the man you love, is wanted dead or alive. when you find out that he's been captured and killed, you're distraught. later on, when someone is in your house in the middle of the night, you struggle to believe in what's real and what isn't. ⌯ author’s note: I've had this idea bouncing around for a little bit in my head and I decided to write it when I was in an angsty mood. so I apologize in advance if your heartstrings are pulled (': please lmk what you think (:

divider credit: @arminsumi | @eloquentreverie | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

When you walk into town today, you’re met with solemn stares and looks of sorrow aimed at you. You aren’t sure why people are staring like this, but it makes an eerie feeling come over you. You try to ignore those who look at you with pity as you run your errands. When you arrive at the small store near your home for some coffee beans, you’re relieved to see the quaint old man who owns it whom you enjoy conversation with. Before you can give him a greeting, he slowly removes his hat and holds it to his chest, his eyes cast down to the floor. 

“My deepest condolences, miss. Losin’ the one you love- I can’t imagine,” the old man frowns, shaking his head.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, bringing a bag of coffee beans to the shop counter to pay, “What are you talking about?”

The old man freezes, a shadow crossing his face, “You ain’t heard?”

You slowly shake your head, your face still holding confusion. The old man slowly takes your hand, patting the top of it comfortingly. None of what has happened to you today makes any sense, and it only keeps dragging you deeper into disorientation.

“I’m sure you’re aware Billy is wanted. Dead or alive, doesn’t matter to them ole boys after him,” the old man says, looking straight into your eyes, “Well, word ‘round the state is they finally caught up to him.”

Your pulse begins to quicken with nervousness, but you’re still unsure of what the old man is getting at, “I still don’t understand.”

“They found ‘em dead,” the old man says.

The corner of your lips curls upward into a humorless laugh as you take a step back, removing your hand from the man’s embrace, “I beg your pardon? Found who dead, now?”

The old man doesn’t answer but instead gives you a cold, sad look. 

“Found who dead, sir?” you shout through gritted teeth, tears stinging behind your eyes as you slowly back away from the counter.

“The kid, sweetheart. Billy.”

“You’re lying,” you bite back, looking around at the other folk in the store, who are giving you pitiful looks, “You’re all lying! Stop looking at me like I’m going to break!”

“Miss, please calm down-”

You put up your finger with widened eyes, ushering the old man to silence himself as tears rapidly slip down your cheeks. You keep walking backward toward the exit, in utter disbelief that any of this is happening. You accidentally bump into a basket of fruit, a few falling to the floor. Embarrassed and stricken with grief and bewilderment, you run out of the store without your long-forgotten coffee beans. When you run out into the street, the people who gave you sorrowful looks earlier watch as you eyeball them critically. Everyone knew before you did. If it’s been heard across the state, it must be true. They must’ve finally caught Billy after all. You feel yourself beginning to break, so you hurriedly start running to your home and away from everyone else. The half-hour walk took only ten minutes of sprinting for you as you didn’t stop, not once, not even to breathe. The entire time, you could barely see much in front of you from the blurred tears filling your eyes. You manage to blow through your front door, slamming it shut behind you. Your back presses against the wood, your chest heaving desperately for air as you begin to sob. Billy, your Billy, is dead.

You’ve never loved someone as much as you love him, and he’s never had anyone love him like you. Billy had never known a love like yours since he lost his mother, not even those women he stumbled upon through the desert or the gangs. Your love is true and unwavering. And now the love you have for him is bellowing out of your eyes and throat as a scream of agony that tears through you. It no longer has anywhere to go. You fall to the floor, bringing your knees to your chest as you wail into the skirt of your dress. Your fingers grip the material in desperation as your throat becomes raw from your screaming, the absolute devastation of losing Billy breaking your heart and soul into pieces. You aren’t sure how long you’re sitting there. Still, eventually, your corset becomes too tight, and breathing is already hard enough. You slide down onto the dirty floor, rolling onto your back as you untie the strings to the garment. More air can be breathed in now, and you sharply inhale through your nose as your eyes bore into the ceiling. Numbness takes over your body, and you lay there, feeling the heaviness of loss in your chest. 

There’s no telling how long you’re on the floor that’s covered in dust, but you don’t care about that. You shakily pull yourself into a sitting position before mustering your remaining strength to push yourself to stand. Your legs wobble, but you manage to walk to the bedroom, where you strip yourself of clothing. Climbing into bed, silent tears stream down your cheek as your hand rests on the empty side of the bed that is Billy’s. He had gone out to help Jesse with god knows what, and because of Billy’s undying kindness and care for others, even those who have wronged him, he’s now gone forever. Eventually, the burning of your nose and eyes subside enough for you to drift to sleep. It feels as if you’ve only had your eyes shut briefly when you hear the front door open. It’s done quietly, as if not to wake whoever is inside. You quickly and quietly tear the blankets off you and fly to your feet, grabbing the shotgun by the bed. In no time, you point it and aim in the darkness. Having memorized the weak spots in the wooden floors, you tip-toe on the sturdier parts that won’t squeak underneath you. You round the corner in the hall, noticing light coming from the candle in the makeshift dining room. Your finger is hovering over the trigger, waiting with bated breath to come in contact with whoever is intruding on your property. Oh, the nerve, you think to yourself, to take advantage of a woman who has just lost the love of her life and her protection. I pray they regret it. But little do they know Billy had taught you his way around a gun. 

As you silently enter the dining room, a dark form stands over the table. Before you can fully react, you leap forward, and the form turns around, the shotgun pressed to their forehead. The room is still quite dim, so you don’t know who your gun is against at the moment. It isn’t until your eyes fully adjust to the icy blue ones before you that you recognize them. Even then, you narrow your eyes. You aren’t sure if this is a dream or rather a nightmare- or if the day prior had happened at all. But you know your shotgun is firmly pressed to Billy’s forehead as he stands before you.

It’s still dead silent other than the heavy breathing between the two of you, your eyes glued to one another, unsure of your next moves. Billy, with his hands up, opens his mouth to say something. But he closes his eyes when you flinch, deciding not to say a word.

“What is this?” you ask flatly, your voice cracking.

“It’s me,” Billy whispers, slowly opening his eyes to take in the unstable ferocity in your expression.

You tremble, your voice watery with oncoming tears, “But you’re dead.”

Billy doesn’t respond, his body still frozen and his feet firmly planted on the floor. You blink once, then twice. You lower your gun hesitantly, gaze still wide open and not leaving Billy’s form. You sniff, your throat feeling like barbed wire is wrapped around it. A scoff escapes you as you gently place the shotgun on the table.

You shake your head roughly as if it would wake you up or bring you back to reality, “God, please tell me I’m dreamin’ ‘cause this is so sick and twisted,” you rasp before raising your head to see Billy still standing there.

He moves forward, his hand cupping your face as his thumbs brush away your tears, “I’m here.”

You sob, keening into his touch, breathing shakily as you fumble to think clearly, “This can’t be real. None of this is real- you’re dead, Billy.”

Billy pulls your face into his neck, stroking your hair as you freely cry into him. His other arm holds you as close to him as possible. 

“Please say you’re real,” you mutter, voice raw, “And that you haven’t left me.”

Tears threaten Billy’s eyes at your desperate pleas for clarity, “I’m real, sweetheart. I never left. But I gotta make ‘em think I did.”

You clutch onto him, “Everyone was lookin’ at me today, and I had no clue why. And someone told me you had died. That they finally got you.”

“As far as everyone else is concerned, I am dead,” Billy says, and you pull away from him, “But to you, baby, to you, I’m still alive.”

You look at him closer despite the dim candlelight, dirt and blood caking his face. You grasp his face with your hands, feeling his flesh and bone under your touch. You’re nearly hysterical by now, but Billy being here and in front of you, alive, makes that not matter. Billy grabs your hands, removing them from his face and placing them onto his chest over his heart.

“You feel that?” he asks, pressing your palms to his pulse, “It beats only for you.”

Your lips tremble, “I thought you were dead, I’m so sorry,” you cry, looking over at the shotgun, “I didn’t mean to point that at you, Billy. I’m sor-”

It’s Billy’s turn to grasp your face, forcing you to look directly at him, “It’s alright, darlin’. You did what you had to do.”

You nod, sniffling away your tears the best you can. 

“I love you,” Billy says, pulling your face closer to his, “I love you so much, and I’m never leaving you no matter what happens. Remember that.”

“Okay,” you say weakly, “I love you too, Billy. More than you’ll ever know.”

Your hands are on Billy’s hips, fingers almost digging into the waistband of his jeans. You’re aware of the room's coolness and how the orange candle light flickers on the side of Billy’s face, casting shadows of his features. He leans in to kiss you, his lips careful when they press themselves to yours. His hands are still holding your face like he’s afraid you’ll break or, worse, disappear. You kiss back fervently, not wanting to take a single second of contact with Billy for granted. He picks you up, not breaking the kiss, letting your legs wrap around him. He pulls away from you momentarily to put out the candle before taking you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed softly. 

“Let me show you how much I love you, sweetheart,” Billy says, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

Your eyes fully conform to the darkness, seeing some of Billy’s features as he unfastens his shirt and rips it off his arms. He climbs over you, pushing up your nightgown over your thighs. Before you have time to protest, which you aren’t going to anyway, Billy kisses your bare cunt tenderly, softly letting his tongue glide up and down your slit before teasing your bundle of nerves. You mewl quietly, Billy’s large hands splaying out on your thighs and holding them still so you don’t move. He lets his tongue delve inside you, your warmth enveloping him for the first time in so long. Billy picks up your thighs and pushes them against your torso so you’re spread open for him. His hands brace themselves on your shins as he laps up your arousal seeping from your entrance. You groan as his tongue circles your clit with your wetness before he sucks it between his lips. Billy slips two fingers inside you, your pussy taking them with ease. Your body is in tune with Billy and the shapes of his tongue, fingers, and cock. So much that you can take anything he gives you with pleasure. He curls his digits inside you, caressing the spongy spot that drives you insane. Your hands fly to Billy’s curls to hold on as he sucks your clit desperately, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Adding a third, he stretches you out delightfully in preparation for his cock. Billy removes his fingers from you, licking them clean before lapping up your remaining arousal leaking from your hole, all stretched out and ready for him.

Billy keeps your knees pressed to your chest as he pumps himself a few times, spreading his precum along his length. He hovers over you and gives you a deep, passionate kiss. Billy loves you more than anything, and he will prove it. As his tongue explores your mouth, he pushes his tip into you, and you moan into the kiss. Billy pulls down the front of your nightgown and squeezes your exposed breasts as he continues to move inside you inch by inch. Bottoming out, Billy stays there, focusing on kissing your jaw and neck for a moment.

“I love you,” he says against your skin, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His eyes are glazed over and reflect the moonlight from the window nearby as he moves back up to kiss you again. Billy pinches your nipples, causing your hips to buck up and making both of you moan from the friction. He pulls out slightly before pushing back in, rolling his hips as he does so. Billy moves from your lips to your neck, leaving kisses along your skin as he pulls out of you almost completely. He bites down lightly as he slams his hips against the back of your thighs, making you whimper. You move your hands from Billy’s hair and to your knees, where you pull them apart, letting them rest against the bed as you expose yourself further for your lover. Billy is able to move more freely inside your wet cunt, hitting a better angle. He reaches his fingers down to brush against your clit, eliciting a sharp cry from you as he speeds up his thrusts.

Your hands are on either side of Billy’s head, your focus on his face and how it contorts in the darkness. He buries his nose into the space between your neck and shoulder, inhaling the smell of your skin deeply as he fucks you. Billy rubs your clit with his fingers quickly, provoking warmth to spread through your lower belly. Your arms are wrapped tightly around him as he snaps his hips forward steadily, his rhythm intense. 

“My beautiful girl letting me make love to her sweet pussy,” Billy mumbles in your neck, “Missed you so bad. ‘M never leaving again.”

“Please don’t leave again,” you respond, moving your hips along with his, “I love you too much.”

“I love hearing you say that,” Billy smiles, pulling from your neck.

He lays down next to you, rolling you over on your side and pulling your leg over his waist so he can fuck you from behind. Billy moves nice and slow, enjoying how your fluttering walls drag along his cock and how you moan deeply from the sensation. He grips your ankle, your leg still spread open as you both watch his cock move in and out of you in the dimness of the night. Billy lurches forward, holding your body as close to his as possible as he moves his hips quicker than before. His tip is pressing into your cervix with every thrust, causing you to moan louder each time. Billy kisses your neck and shoulder blades, enjoying the noises of sheer pleasure you make.

“Rub your clit for me, doll,” Billy drags in your ear, “Want you to feel so good.”

You oblige, swiping your hand over your clit in time with Billy’s cock fucking into you. The bed creaks underneath the two of you, your bodies moving erratically as you chase the growing warmth in your abdomen. You feel yourself getting closer.

“I’m,” you gasp as Billy presses his hand to your lower belly, the tip of his cock burying into his palm and your womb with every buck of his hips, “I’m gonna fucking cum, Billy.”

“Good,” he sighs into your neck, “Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby. You’re all mine forever.”

You whimper as your hand flies against your sensitive clit, Billy not letting up on his cock slamming into you. The tight knot in your stomach is about to snap apart as you whine pathetically into the night, letting yourself go limp as a white-hot rush washes over you.

 You feel yourself gush around Billy’s cock, a throaty moan leaving him at the sight of you still grinding against your clit as you squirt, “Fuck, I love you, Billy. You make me feel so good.”

The feeling of the hot wet arousal around his cock sends him into his own orgasm, his hand replacing yours on your bundle of nerves. He rolls it between his fingers, making you scream out and convulse as your second orgasm rips through you. You keep gushing around Billy as he lets your tight cunt milk him of his release.

Both of you gasp for air, weak and ready for sleep as your orgasms relax your bodies. Billy pulls out of you, leaving kisses behind your ear and into your hair. He keeps you drawn close to him but lets you lay your leg down as you hold each other.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say quietly after minutes of silence, your breathing now steadier than before.

“I am too,” Billy moves your hair from your face, “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I was hoping to get to you before the news did.”

“It’s okay, knowing you’re really alive makes up for that,” you joke.

“We’re gonna have to leave before sunrise. If they think I’m dead, I need to stay dead.”

You let your eyes shut for the little remainder of time for sleep you have left, not worrying about having to leave this town behind. It doesn’t matter where you are, as long as you’re with Billy and he’s with you. As long as you’re both alive, nothing can stop you. 

[andy-clutterbuck]

Men's Health | 2012

[iris-ren]

i can’t lose you

levi x reader

tags: canon universe // well established relationship // canon typical violence // swearing // sweet boy levi // sad boy levi // levi loves the shit out of you // star crossed lovers type beat

word count: 1.3k

————-

you and levi were drinking tea in his quarters when the news hit.

“wall rose has been breached!” a cadet yelled through the door.

levi was the first to his feet, stalking over to you grabbing your hands with a desperate look in his eyes.

“this is going to be bad okay” his grip tightened on your hands.

“no matter what, i need you to stay close. keeping you alive is my number one priority next to killing those giant fuckers where they stand.”

———

shit

they were everywhere.

titans poured in through the gaping hole in wall rose.

all of levi squad watched the carnage taking place from a rooftop above the streets waiting on the captain's orders.

levi’s cloak flapped in the wind as he mentally strategized what to do next.

all you could do is watch the wheels turning in his head.

the captain finally turned to address you all, his face was unreadable as ever.

“eren i need you to use your titan’s hardening ability to plug that hole, just like the trost mission. the rest of us will make sure you make it there unscathed. this is your one job eren don’t fuck it up.”

eren nodded in response.

levi squad saluted their captain, “yes sir!”

the soldiers took to the streets below using their ODM gear, leaving you and levi standing alone on the rooftop.

your captain’s face grew softer now that it was just the two of you.

levi reached around you, grabbing you by the small of your back pulling you into his embrace.

“remember what i said” a concerned look fell upon his face as he looked into your eyes earnestly. “stay close no matter what. i can’t lose you.. not yet… not here”

levi didn’t allow you to respond, his grip tightened around your waist as the hook shot out of his gear propelling both of you through the street.

the two of you quickly separated, taking out the first titan you came into contact with.

your gear now being put to use, you sent your hook into the next titan’s shoulder blade as you flung by slicing its nape.

levi called to you from atop a nearby titans head,

“he’s on the move!” pointing to eren now in his titan form.

“let’s go!” he shouted as he initiated his gear.

you quickly followed suit and propelled yourself forward, falling in line next to levi.

from your birds eye view you both noticed the hoards of titans flowing in through the breached wall.

fuccccck this is all going to shit real quick

the whole first line of defense was taken out, eren was now going toe to toe with the swarm of titans.

“goddamn it” levi said as you both propelled through the air.

“we have to make sure eren makes it to the wall”

levi cocked his head in your direction, locking eyes with you, “remember what i said…you know what to do.”

you nodded. without a word you used your gear to skip from roof to roof in the direction of where the front line was just wiped out.

levi took the quicker route in the street below using the buildings stone walls to swing himself forward at a fierce speed.

levi made it to the pack of titans surrounding eren before you, slicing through nape after nape while you were not far behind.

you were one rooftop away from the carnage when the reinforcement team arrived.

thank the gods

you heard the whizzing noise of odm gear as you entered the fold with a flock of soldiers at your flank.

you quickly shot your spear grip through eren’s giant bicep, slicing through the muscle like a sword slicing through flesh.

using his massive form as leverage to fling yourself forward, flying feet first into a titans massive eyeball almost completely crippling its vision.

i’ll apologize to eren for that later. you thought laughing as you tried to pull your foot from the titans eye.

shit shit i’m in deep you quickly realized.

you hastily jabbed at the sludge beneath your feet with both swords not gaining an inch of leeway. you knew you were seconds away from the titan plucking you out of its eye.

sweat formed on your forehead as panic set in.

moments before the titan plucked you from its eye, memories you shared with levi started to flash before your eyes. you thought of all of the calm mornings you spent together, how the sun would pour through his window and how he would kiss your forehead when your eyes fluttered open, awakening from your blissful slumber.

“mmmm.. good morning sweet girl” he would say.

a single tear fell from your eye as the titan pulled you free from its eye. time moved so slow as it smashed your body under its fierce grip and lifted you high in the air.

you thought of levi’s words to you

“i can’t lose you.. not yet… not here”

not yet… not here… you thought as you became completely weightless.

the giant titan flung your lifeless bloodied form far and high like it was swatting a fly.

you didn’t feel the impact when your body landed on a nearby roof, your mind was already halfway to the other side, your soul was almost ready to cross over.

——

after tearing down dozens of titans, levi and the reinforcements were able to give eren an opening to plug the hole in wall rose using his hardening ability.

everyone took an exhausted sigh of relief, at the end of the hard fought mission.

levi turned in circles in search of you. you were nowhere to be found.

bodies of steaming dead titans surrounded him

no, no where is she?! he thought in a panic.

without notifying anyone, levi quickly leaped into action initiating his ODM gear, launching himself upwards above the rooftops.

levi saw a body atop of a roof a single block away.

no it can’t be. please don’t be her. he thought as he neared the sight of your bloody body.

levi disengaged his gear landing hard on the roof; he had never ran faster in his life.

finally reaching your lifeless body levi sank to his knees next to you. in complete delirium levi grabbed at your limp body pulling your lifeless form too his chest.

“no no no please no” he chanted as his body shook against yours.

tears fell freely from levi’s eyes as he lifted your head up, placing a kiss to your lips.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. no. you were supposed to survive this together. you were supposed to tell your children and grandchildren all the stories about how the two of you survived a world full of shit and destruction together.

“i told you to stay close! you weren’t supposed to go yet!” he screamed.

“no..no.. not you. not you sweet girl” levi said as he wept into your neck.

you were nowhere, floating in the cold dark lifeless void when you saw a faint light.

well this must be it. i hope levi’s okay. you thought as warmth washed over you.

for a split second you thought you could hear levi’s voice calling out to you like a sweet siren song luring you to shore.

i hope he knows how much i loved him.

blinking away tears levi placed two fingers on your neck desperately feeling for a pulse.

eyes wide, levi shouted. “MEDIC MEDIC I NEED A MEDIC NOW!” he gripped your limp body tighter waiting for help.

you had a pulse, it was faint but it filled levi with hope nonetheless.

——-

levi held your hand the whole wagon ride back to the castle while you were unconscious, and sat by your bed for days waiting… hoping for you to wake.

it had been three days and you still hadn’t come conscious yet.

levi couldn’t sleep a wink as the days passed, he grew more and more worried as he held your hand waiting for you to show any sign of life.

your body felt so heavy as your eyes fluttered open instantly finding levi’s gaze.

tears welled in levi’s eyes once again as he cupped your cheek.

“hey sweet girl, i’ve been waiting for you”

—————

feedback appreciated 🤍

[some-kindofgnome]

tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal. 

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know? 

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron​ has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”  

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

[momolady]

Werewolf Boyfriend: Raphael

If you’re tired of werewolves, I apologize. Just move along and let those who enjoy them enjoy them.

Male Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

You have a job you love. The college you’re teaching at is great, so no complaints there. It’s above and beyond your days substituting for high school science classes. The only problem is the location. The seemingly small town that the college is in, Hearthway Hollow, is much more rural than you’re used to. Having grown up in the city and lived there all your life, the backwoodsy atmosphere of this scenic North Carolina town is far from your comfort zone. Everything closes at six, save for maybe one or two restaurants. The nearest big shopping center is an hour away, not to mention the biggest city. There’s more forest than people, and forests have scared you ever since you saw Snow White as a kid. Not to mention the silence.

You’ve never been the best sleeper, but here in the woods, the silence has made your insomnia much worse. You’ve tried noise machines, apps on your phone, everything you can to make the world outside seem less forbidding. But the forest is there, looming over you like vicious claws ready to sink into your skin and pull you down into its vast black depths, where the creatures will feast on whatever is left.

Everyone you talk to seems to love it here - the other professors, your students, the cute baristas at the coffee shop. Why can’t you love it? You love your job so much, so why can’t you love the town that encompasses it? It’s frustrating, and you want so much to find a place to fit in here, but it feels almost impossible most days.

You don’t want your frustration to affect your job, so you’ve been trying to partake in some of what Hearthway Hollow offers. You’ve signed up for some volunteer work at the nature reserve, and you’ve been looking at the goat yoga classes being offered by one of the local farms. If there’s any way to make yourself feel at home here to save yourself and this job, you’re willing to take it. Hell, you’ve been eyeballing singles events. If you can find a date, a partner, maybe it’ll sweeten the pot.

“My, my, is making papier-mache volcanoes such a tiring job?”

You look up from your phone as one of your fellow teachers walks into the room. Raphael Chauveau is the literature professor. You’re usually the tallest in any room, and have been since you hit puberty at thirteen, but Professor Chauveau is taller by a head. He’s more built than you too, so he seems massive compared to your lanky frame. He also seems to enjoy teasing you. His slight French accent makes everything he says sound charming, but the charm is beginning to wear off.

You turn off your phone as he sits down across from you, hoping he doesn’t see you perusing the event calendar.  “This isn’t middle school, Professor Chauveau. We use dashed hopes and dreams for our volcanoes.”

He smirks and rubs his scruffy chin. It’s bad enough he was taller than you, but he also had fluffy blonde hair in soft waves, and one curl falls in front of his frosty blue eyes. “That is rather bleak.”

You want to dislike this guy so badly, but he’s exactly your type. It doesn’t matter the gender, but blonde hair and distinct eyes always capture your attention. “I thought you thrived on bleak stories. Aren’t you having your class study Wuthering Heights right now?”

Raphael smirks and tilts his chin up. “That’s not bleak, sir. That story is downright depressing. I do not thrive on them either, they just happen to be what the world considers classic.”

You glance back at your phone with a slight scowl on your lips.

“Seriously,” Raphael leans in. “What has you so down in the dumps? And makes you put a concealer on your bags?”

You touch your face defensively. “How did...” You shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

“We have a shortage of adorable professors,” Raphael says with a soft smile. “It would be a shame to lose another.”

Your cheeks burn, and you refuse to look at him. Did he just call you adorable?

Raphael settles in, placing his bag aside and resting his arms on the tabletop. “If there’s something troubling you about your job, perhaps you could chat with an old hat like me? I’ve been here a long time, and I’ve seen many things.”

You scoff,eyes still downcast. “Where did you grow up?”

He cocks his eyebrow up. “Is that causing you stress?”

You shake your head and finally look into his eyes. “No, I’m asking genuinely. Because I’m from the city. Grew up there, thrived there, and thought I would die there. Now I find myself in a town literally smack-dab in the middle of the woods, and I’m finding it hard to cope with the change.”

Raphael’s smile remains. “I was born in France, but as soon as they were able my parents relocated to New Orleans, where my mother had family. After New Orleans it was Malibu, after Malibu it was New York, and after New York, I came here because I had family here.”

“Oh.” You’re a bit surprised. “So how did you cope? You lived in some of the most well-known cities in America. What did this little town hold for you?”

Raphael chuckles and sighs. “You’re not going to like my answer.”

“Is it disappointing?”

“Possibly,” he shrugs. “I like to believe I was always meant to be here. I never could settle, much like my parents. I was a dandelion seed caught on a breeze, but once I found this place, I planted and grew.”

“A weed?”

Raphael gives you a knowing look. “Mock if you want, but out of all the places I have lived, between France and Malibu, I like Hearthway Hollow the most.”

You frown. “But why? There must be a reason. The creepy forest? The silence? The fact that there’s nothing to do?”

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, sir.” Raphael sounds almost scolding. “This town has much to offer, even to some city mouse like you. Fall is here, and Halloween is fast approaching. I think you’ll be pleased with all the festivities.”

“Is Halloween some big to-do around these parts?”

Raphael nods. “It’s almost bigger than Christmas. You know how we have the big wolf reserve and rescue here?”

You laugh. “Don’t tell me, this whole town is gaga for werewolves?”

Raphael joins you in your laugh. “I should have known! You’re far too smart.”

You stare blankly at him. “Really?”

“Yes, of course. Werewolves are a very big thing here in Hearthway Hollow. Lots of stories, lots of festivities. It’s really quite fascinating. You should look into it.”

You can’t help chuckling. “I know that some towns really love their local legends, but a town dedicated to werewolves? That sounds a bit ridiculous.”

Raphael leans forward on the table a bit more. “It’s the mythology, sir. I know your head is full of chemistry and science, but here we thrive on history and stories. We love legends. It’s part of why I love this town so much.”

“But why werewolves?” you insist. “Aren’t they supposed to be evil?”

“Mothman is a harbinger for disaster and death, yet Point Pleasant loves to keep the story alive. There is the Goatman of Maryland, New Jersey has the Jersey Devil, Romania has Vlad Tepes III. But do you question these places for upholding their terrors?”

“Vlad Tepes is real. And he wasn’t a vampire.”

Raphael arches his brow. “Are you even listening? That is not the point. I am talking about tradition, especially the tradition of storytelling! Stories are as old as time itself, and stories of gods and monsters are always at the forefront. Nowadays werewolves are pop culture. They are romantic. They are Hugh Jackman. They are the kind of stories people want to listen to.”

You sigh and now your head. “Well, Hugh Jackman is an excellent argument.”

He starts laughing and when his grin grows, he has remarkable dimples. “Did your family never tell your fairy tales at night?”

“Both my parents were scientists, and they were great parents, but they were never fairy tale-type people.”

“Such a shame,” he murmurs. “Perhaps I could suggest some literature to you. Maybe reading some bedtime stories will help you with your sleeplessness.”

“How do you know I’m sleepless?”

Raphael taps under his eyes. “Come over to my place tonight if you’d like. I’ll make dinner, and we can have wine and discuss this further. Maybe it will help you understand your new home a little better.”

That evening after classes, and heading to your apartment for a quick shower, you go to the address that Raphael sent you. He lives in a loft downtown, above one of the shops that feels out of time. When you come up the stairs he’s standing out on his balcony, fanning out his shirt, so you catch glimpses of his stomach and chest as you walk up.

“The kitchen got a bit too hot. I came outside to cool off.” He smiles as you approach. “So glad you came. Come on in! These old places are either freezing or boiling, so please excuse it.” He leaves the door open as he takes you through a living room filled with shelves and books. A wine rack at the rear is filled with bottles, and he holds one up. “Would you like a drink, sir?”

“That would be nice. What do you have?”

“A wine from my father. It’s really quite good.” He begins the process of uncorking it.

As he does, you continue to peruse the room. There’s a bare spot above the chimney, and on it hangs a painting that catches your attention because of the huge splash of red on the canvas. The painting depicts a girl all in red, with a wolf standing on its hind legs beside her. The girl’s white hand is placed in the wolf’s giant paw, while her other hand stretches out to keep her basket away from him.

“My mother painted that,” Raphael says when he catches you staring. He holds out a glass of wine to you.

“I take it she loved fairy tales too?” You smell the glass before taking a sip.

“She and my father were both artists. She loved fairy tales so much, she used to have a giant, ancient tome that was falling apart. She would flip to a page at random, and where she landed, that was the subject she would paint. I would read her the story while she did.” He glances up at the painting with a sad smile. “Can you guess the fairy tale? Or are you not well versed enough?” he teases.

You smirk. “I shouldn’t be surprised you have Red Riding Hood, considering your lecture today on werewolves.”

“It was my favorite story as a child. I always cried when they killed the wolf.”

“He ate people!”

Raphael turns to you as he takes a sip of wine. “That is the nature of the wolf. Would you kill a bear for hibernating? Goldilocks broke into a house, ate their food, messed up their beds, and she lived.”

You furrow your brow. “She didn’t eat anybody!”

“The importance of fairy tales is to teach a lesson. What did the Three Bears teach? Break into someone’s home and get away with just a fright?” He shakes his head then looks back up at the painting. “The wolf may have tricked Red Riding Hood, but when he asked her for a morsel of food, she turned him away. She got eaten for being selfish.”

You grimace. “Is this how you teach?”

“It’s how I get my students to think,” he chuckles. “I’m glad you caught on.” He taps his wine glass to yours. “I like to look at things a bit too deeply, especially when I enjoy them. I love wolves, so when the wolf got gutted by the woodsman, I was heartbroken.”

“I take it that’s on my required reading list?”

“You’re far too smart for me,” Raphael teases. “But yes, I have a wonderful book that is filled with nothing but retellings of the red Riding Hood legend - one of which was written by someone here in Hearthway Hollow.”

“You?”

He shakes his head. “I’m an awful writer, no matter what I try. The story was written by a founder of Hearthway Hollow, Abraham Locklear.”

You follow Raphael as he goes into the kitchen, which is indeed quite warm. “Is he related to that lady who owns my apartment building? Mrs. Locklear?”

Raphael slides on oven mitts that look like lobster claws. “Her father, and a remarkable man. He was editor of the local paper during its inception, and an incredible writer. My father had a collection of his articles that his family sent him. I would pour myself into his articles when I read them. He married my great-great aunt.”

“Oh,” you murmur. So that’s how you have family here.”

He nods as he pulls a pan from the oven. “The history of this town is steeped in my veins, and with it the lore of werewolves here as well. I would love to share all of it with you.”

Suddenly your heart starts racing and your cheeks burn. It isn’t just the heat of the kitchen, it’s something else entirely. “How long would that take?” you ask breathlessly.

“It could take quite a while,” he says with a wink.

Raphael slowly begins to show you his love for the town through stories and literature. He tells you tales about how the endangered red wolves turned themselves human to escape their demise, and hid among the people they were trying to escape. He tells you a gruesome story about the first werewolves, one that chills you to your bones.

“Did I scare you?” Raphael asks.

“No,” you say staunchly, not wanting to give yourself away.

He closes the old book he was reading from. “You got quite pale. I would hate to scare you any further.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “No, no, you can go on. I don’t mind.”

He sets the book aside. “No, I don’t think so. You sleep poorly enough as it is, and I would hate to think you lost sleep over me.”

“I’m fine! Keep reading about murdering Vikings!”

Raphael smirks at you. “Make me.”

You scowl and lean in closer to him, closing your eyes and kissing him. His hand touches your cheek, and his kisses grow deeper. “Not what I meant, but very good.” He kisses you again and cups his hands around your face.

“My intention was to get you to fall for the town,” he teases. “Not me.”

You kiss him softly and paw at his chest. “You knew what you were doing, so don’t act coy with me.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, sending chills through every limb. “Fine. I’ve wanted to paw at you since I first met you.”

“Funny choice of words.”

A few days later, you’re leaving the college late after helping a group of your students with some work. The fall air is crisp but bitter, and the smell of rain is heavy. As you’re walking along the path to your apartment, you hear a noise in the woods. You turn, looking deep inside. The stories of werewolves have sunk into your consciousness, and now every strange sound is a werewolf outside, even though you know it’s ridiculous. Not wanting to be a chicken in your own yard, you take out your phone and call Raphael.

As it begins to ring, there’s a shuffling in the woods, and you hear Raphael’s phone ringing. You furrow your brow, looking out into the woods. The phone rings once more before it goes silent.

“Raphael? Are you trying to scare me?”

A stick snaps, and everything goes silent.

“This isn’t funny. In fact, it’s pissing me off a bit. I’m not having any of it.” You roll your eyes and keep walking, turning your ringer off in case he tries to call again.

When you’re close to the apartment building, something walks out of the woods. At first you think it’s a dog, but the more you look at it, the less it looks like a dog. It turns to face you, ashy in color with wide blue eyes. The wolf flicks its tail and begins to rise on hind legs.

“Fuck, no!” You turn on a dime and sprint away. You’re nearly back at the college when you come to a sudden stop. Panting hard, sweating, and your pulse racing, something in your head clicks.

“Raphael?” You turn just as the wolf collides with you.

You lie on the ground with the werewolf on your back. You should be terrified, but actually, you’re just pissed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You manage to shove the colossal wolf off you. “Really? Really?”

Raphael lies there. “I’ve been trying to tell you.”

You rub your hands over your face. “I must be dreaming. This just doesn’t...” You stop and take a few breaths. “Werewolves are stories!”

“Stories have truth to them.” Raphael sits up. “Before we went further, I wanted to show you who… what I am.”

You stand up from the ground and adjust your bag. “I can’t right now. I can’t.”

“It’s not a bad thing! I swear. I’m not evil.” He jumps up and you stretch out your hand to hold him back.

“I still need a moment to process this! So just...” You go quiet. “Leave me alone. I need to think.”

“Oh, okay.” He sounds almost defeated. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Not right now.” You look back up at him, then away. “It’s a lot, Raphael. I just… It’s a lot.” You turn and start to walk back home. “I’ll see you.”

Another sleepless night. Lost in thought, you toss and turn. If werewolves are real, and not just stories, then what else could be real? The man you were falling for is a monster, but is he really a monster? Is it okay to know this secret? Would you be killed or worse for knowing it? Would you have to stay with Raphael to stay alive?

You go to work in the morning like normal, pushing aside all your questions for the time being. After class is over, you go to the library, knowing Raphael will be there. It’s his comfort place, and since last night, you know he’ll be here to try and calm himself. You find him sitting in the aisle with all the cookbooks. He’s got a few stacked beside him and one in his lap. He looks tired, his beard is scruffier, and his hair is less fluffy than usual. He looks up as you stand there and holds his breath.

You sit down beside the stack of books and sigh heavily. “Is this a secret?” you ask.

Raphael looks back into the book. “It is but, Hearthway Hollow protects it. You’re not in trouble if you know, only if you try to use it to hurt us.”

“So this whole town is full of werewolves?”

Raphael nods. “You’re not in danger, though.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around all of it, but I don’t want to run away from you.”

“Really?”

You look at him and smile. “I like you, a lot.” Your guts churn. “More than a lot.”

Raphael smiles. “I’m a big good wolf, I swear.”

The two of you stand up and embrace. His strong arms hold you fast, and you bury your face against his shoulder. When you part, you kiss. Your kisses become heavier, harder, and you press him against the bookcase, biting his lip as you moan.

“Shh!” he hisses as he smirks. “Library, remember?”

You kiss him again. “I can’t stop myself. Sorry, I’m a bit vocal when...” Your cheeks heat up. “Well, anyway. Can we go back to your place after work?”

“Certainly,” Raphael grins. “We can continue this there.” He kisses you again.

That evening, you walk to Rapahel’s home with him. You take his hand and walk close beside him as the wind gets colder. Once inside his home, it’s quiet, and all you can hear is the sound of your breathing. “It’s chilly in here,” you chuckle nervously.

“I’ll get the heater going,” he says with a smile. “Why don’t you hop into the shower and I’ll join you.”

You nod. “Okay, sounds good.”

You go into his bathroom and strip down. You’re nervous, knowing this will be your first time with Raphael, let alone your first time with a werewolf. You look at yourself in the mirror before turning on the shower. You step in once the water is warm, and as you get yourself wet you hear the door open and close. There’s the shuffle of Rapahel abandoning his clothes, and then he opens the curtain and steps in behind you.

He touches the side of your neck and kisses your shoulder. His hands slide down your body before his fingers graze through your body hair and capture your cock. He strokes gently, breathing softly into your ear.

“Raphael,” you begin to moan. “Oh god.”

“How vocal are you? I really wanna know.” He turns you around, kissing you hungrily. Your moans escape, and his kisses move lower. He slips down in the shower until he’s kneeling and his blue eyes look up at you. His mouth drags across your hip, and his warm tongue flicks over your cock.

“You’re so hot right now,” you whisper, and cup the back of his head. “I can’t stand it.”

He takes your cock into his mouth, sucking gently and slowly. He’s teasing you, making you erect with fluttering affection. “That’s so good,” you pant. You grab hold of his wet hair. “Your mouth is so warm.”

Raphael moans against you, taking your cock deeper into his mouth. “Shit,” you pant.

His eyes look up again as his head begins to bob. Your hips feel like they could melt, and your moans come out freely and loudly. You press your back against the wall of the shower, taking deep breaths as Raphael takes the strength from your legs.

Raphael pulls back, licking his chops. He rises and bends over to whisper into your ear. “I want you inside me.”

You gulp. “Really?”

Raphael licks your lips. “I’m kind of a princess in bed. What? Because I’m a werewolf, I'm automatically a top dog?”

You smile awkwardly. “Well. I’m happy to please however you like.”

You both step from the shower, dry off and go to the bedroom, and behind you Rapahel shifts. His shadow grows larger and furrier, and by the time you’re in the bedroom together, he’s a massive werewolf again. You touch his chest and stroke down, finding his cock hard and throbbing. “Big,” you whisper.

“You’re just right.” He lies on the bed, posing for you. “There’s lube in the bedside drawer,” he murmurs seductively. “Pamper me before you pound me.”

You give him a kiss, and his thick tongue laps over your lips. “You’re ridiculous,” you chuckle.

He smirks. “I’m horny. Give me credit.”

You take out the lube, coating two of your fingers before you start to toy with his ass. Raphael closes his eyes and soft, sweet moans escape his throat. It’s not what you expected from such a big bad wolf, and you never would have thought of Raphael this way in bed. You slip your fingers inside him, lubing him up while preparing him.

“I used to have a girlfriend who pegged me,”  Raphael confesses. “I grew to enjoy it.”

“I had a girlfriend like that, too.” You pull your fingers out. “I think I’ll enjoy you more, though.”

His ears twitch and he bites his lip. “Hurry.”

You push his legs up, supporting the back of his knees. One leg goes over your shoulder as you ease yourself inside. He’s tight, but as you inch in he relaxes. You moan out loud, barely able to contain it.

“Don’t be quiet,” he breathes. “I want to hear you.”

You look into his blue eyes, this big wolf underneath you. “I don’t think I could hold back even if I wanted to.”

You begin to move, slowly at first. All you want to do is look at him. Even as a werewolf he’s beautiful. You start to moan, and the more you do, Raphael joins in. Your voices entangle like your bodies. You begin to move in such a way as to get Raphael to vocalize more, to beg for more.

The two of you take your time with one another. You change positions to find what you like. You take breaks to cuddle and giggle. Somewhere in the night, you find yourself at your edge. Raphael’s face is buried in the pillows while you're pulling his tail. You feel him tighten up around you, and you’re done for. Everything crackles and sizzles, your hips buck, and you jerk. Then you fall on top of him, snuggling against his warm fur. Raphael chuckles softly, turning his head from the pillows.

“Magnificent,” he whispers.

You roll off him and he pulls you into his arms. “I can’t feel anything below my neck.”

“You came quite a bit,” he teases. “Will you have anything left for the morning?”

You kiss him softly. “Don’t toy with me.”

“I won’t - much.” He lies with you, sighing deeply. “So, what do you think about werewolves now?”

You smile to yourself. “I never said I didn’t like them, you know?” You rub his velvety ear between your fingers. “I just never understood.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You remain silent for a moment as the warmth of the bed and the post-orgasmic glow settle in. “I think I love werewolves.”

[onbeinganangel]

for @skeptiquewrites who sent me a prompt from this list of kisses for me to work with! the prompt was 'we're with family and can't kiss but let's sneak into your old room for a minute' and she asked for a little bit of Perciver. this got a bit out of hand (who's surprised, not me) and it features discussions of coming out to one's family

not beta read and tbh barely edited, this is just straight out of my brain and into your eyeballs since these prompts are meant to be a warmup to working on The Big WIP, so my apologies in advance for any dumb mistakes

harder than i thought

(percy/oliver, 1.3k)

They’ve been dating for almost a year when Oliver decides he’s coming out to his parents and bringing Percy home to Glasgow for the first time. All for his birthday party, because when it comes to one Oliver Wood, it’s always go big or go home.

It’s weird that it’s when Oliver brings it up that Percy realises he’s never been to Oliver’s childhood home. Percy has met the Woods before, of course. Percy and Oliver had graduated the same year, fought the same war, and been generally inseparable way before their relationship crossed the line over from platonic to romantic.

Percy hasn’t been out to his family long either, so it all feels a little fragile, despite it being the surest thing Percy has ever had in his life. Coming out to his family had been slightly underwhelming, after all his overthinking and the practicing of his speech. He had made a big show of clinking his fork against his glass at Sunday dinner, pushed himself up with his sweaty palms flat over the dinner table and announced, as loud and as proud as his shaky voice allowed it, “I’m gay.” His mum had reacted with a casual “as long as you’re happy, love, do you want more roast potatoes? Oh, and do bring Oliver over next week” and that had been only after Bill coughed something that sounded suspiciously like “yeah, we know.” Despite the subdued reaction, Percy had felt lighter for it.

But Oliver has his own plan to air things out with his parents, and Percy will do the same as always until Oliver is ready: pretend they are just friends.

It’s not as easy as it seems. They do it plenty in public, whenever Percy goes to Oliver’s matches or they’re out with friends. But it’s different at home. It’s different because they’re too casual, both at theirs and at the Burrow now.

They wake up tangled up in one other, like one creature with too many limbs. Oliver gets out of bed first and goes for a run and Percy is up and ready to leave for work by the time Oliver is back. It’s way more than the freedom of going on dates in the Muggle world. It’s the way they brush hands softly even while doing the most mundane of things, the way Oliver puts his feet on Percy’s lap when they watch tv together, the way Percy wraps his arms around Oliver’s waist and places his chin on Oliver’s shoulder when he’s cooking or standing in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea. It’s the temple kisses, and the forehead kisses, and the knuckle kisses, the neck kisses, the kisses right on top of Oliver’s gorgeous hair that always smells fresh and minty. Percy’s fear is that he’s too used to all of that. And he’d have to survive Oliver’s birthday party and pretend they’re just friends for as long as it takes.

He takes a steadying breath and fusses with the collar of his shirt for the 900th time. It’s fair that he’s trying so hard. Meeting the parents, even if you’ve met them before, is a big deal.

“You ready?” Oliver’s voice comes from the other room.

His worry must be obvious in his face when he steps into the front room because Oliver’s mouth curls into a small frown and he says, “You don’t have to come, you know? I’ll say you’re a wee bit under the weather.”

“Merlin, no! I don’t want to miss your birthday party,” Percy argues. He really doesn’t.

Oliver crowds in on him, lips brushing Percy’s. “We can celebrate properly when we come back home,” he says, voice low, lips parting and puffing hot air against Percy’s.

“Will you behave, please? We just have to survive a few hours without touching. Stop making it harder than it is.”

“Oh, I could make it harder,” Oliver says.

“Bloody hell, you’re a hazard,” Percy says and pushes him away playfully. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Aye, let’s go.”

*

It’s nice. Nice, in the sense that Mrs. Wood hugs him as if he’s her own and asks about his parents and siblings. And nice in the sense that he can point at ridiculous photos on the walls (most of them featuring Oliver on a broom or posing with one, some featuring a rosy cheeked chubby baby) and say stuff like “Circe, is that what you looked like?” just to receive a deadly stare from Oliver.

It’s torture, though. It’s torture because more than once he finds himself reaching for Oliver’s hand or about to call him “love” before he reins it back in. It’s torture to make small talk with Oliver’s dad because Percy is saying “Yes, sir, I’m the Deputy Department Head now” and making jokes about if they ever have issues with their Floo, he’s the man to get in touch with but what he’s really thinking is “will you hate me when he tells you?”

Dinner is gorgeous and followed by a giant chocolate cake with pieces of fudge on top. Percy is fidgety the whole way through, even after a healthy dram of whisky. The quiet gets to him — a side effect of growing up in the loudest household in Britain, probably. But it’s weird, when it’s just the two of them, Oliver’s parents and his gran, and it’s weird because there’s not much to distract Percy and he just wants to hold Oliver’s hand and squeeze, and not entirely selflessly. They don’t touch but Oliver keeps looking at him, those gorgeous big brown eyes melting through every single one of Percy’s defenses and making him want to touch him even more.

He ends up in Oliver’s room and he’s not even sure how. They’d moved to the living room after lunch, with a Quidditch match on on the Wireless that Percy tried to pay attention to. The quiet had started seeping into Percy’s bones like when you walk into too-cold water at the beach.

Oliver pushes him into the small room at the top of the stairs, follows him inside and closes the door. The room is decorated in shades of blue — the walls, the duvet, the cushions on the bed, the shaggy rug — and covered in Quidditch paraphernalia — posters on the walls, more Little League trophies on the desk than he can count, more photographs of Oliver and his broom.

It’s so Oliver that Percy wants to drown in it. In all the blue of it, all the cosiness and that smell — that smell that has never left, despite Oliver not having lived at home for years. Spicy and minty and homey.

Oliver walks past him, leaving Percy at the door, still observing, committing every detail to memory and walks over to the desk, cocking a hip against it.

When Percy looks at him directly again, he’s smiling.

It feels a little like they’re about to kiss for the first time ever, excepted when they had, months ago, had been tentative and shy and had none of the fire this has. Percy crosses the room and lets himself be pulled against Oliver’s warmth. They just kiss for a while, a steady rhythm that tells Percy he’s not the only one struggling with the pretense.

“Not touching you is harder than I thought,” Oliver says against his spit-shiny lips.

Percy smiles and he sees the moment Oliver’s eyes light up and he realises what Percy is about to say, just before he says it. “Oh, Oli, I could make it harder.”

“You’re a bastard, you know?” Oliver says, but laughs.

Silence stretches comfortable, just slightly tinged with a hint of fear.

“You okay?” Percy asks, after a while, as Oliver tucks his head under Percy’s chin, his breath hot and tickly against the skin on his neck.

“Yeah. They’re not going to have a problem. They’re sound,” he says, and Percy squeezes his hand tight, watching the way Oliver’s eyes fill with apprehension. “It’s just hard, saying it, you know?”

“I know. I’ll be here,” Percy says, for lack of a better answer.

“I know.”

[jakeyp]

Jake comes up with the silliest excuses to get out of work and spends the day with Mac. Everyone can see through it all like glass, but they let him get away with it because it's so adorable.

it’s been a week since jake came back to work from paternity leave (amy has 2 more weeks off) and the hardest part is leaving his wife and his baby every morning 😭 at some point he turns on his phone to text amy but gets distracted with his lockscreen, which is amy lulling mac, and jake zones out for like five minutes before he hears charles asking “jake, are you cry-” “EYEBALL SWEAT”. 

when he can’t take it anymore he puts on a whole act and goes to terry like “i gotta get out of here! my son is walking!” terry frowns. “he’s not even one year old, how could he be-” “well, don’t forget he’s amy’s child too”. “jake, i can’t let you leave. go back to your desk.” 

so, then he tries with holt. something more credible, he tells himself. “sir, i gotta go home,” he tells holt, bursting into the captain’s office. “why? is everything okay?” “no. amy... broke her arm.” he doesn’t sound convincing at all, so holt teases him, “should i go with you and take her to the hospital?” he suggests. “no!” says jake nervously. “that’s not necessary... wait, did i say amy? i didn’t mean my wife... i meant amy the dog.” there are so many holes in jake’s lie that holt notices right away: 1, the fact that amy’s allergic to dogs, and 2, dogs don’t have arms. but jake looks even hopeful and confident with his lie. and holt knows why he’s doing it - he misses his son. “well, give amy the dog my condolences. dismissed” holt says, going back to work. “seriously?!” jake yells, and then clears his throat. “i mean... thanks, cap. love you.” 

and holt only follows the detective rushing out of the precinct, collapsing into three people and leaving a mess in his desk behind him. after that, jake’s excuses are just movie plots that barely even fit with his life 

later at night he has amy cracking up because her husband is adorable thinking that he fooled everyone and is now happily feeding mac, who gurgles, and jake’s like, “see? i could’ve missed that!” “he makes those sounds all the time.” “still,” jake says, booping mac’s nose 

[risquefanfics457]

omg hi!! i was the one who requested the American reader! with Jojo’s and i. LOVED. it!!!! if i can, could i please get another one of the American reader but the Jojos having to deal with others harassing or bullying them because of their accent and how unintelligent they seem to be? i have an accent that most people think i am dumb because i don’t say things properly or grammatically correct. it had always been an insecurity for me since i had speech issues within my childhood and i grew up where they speak in an accent or that form of grammar.

Of course, I’m so glad you liked the last one I did for you! ❤❤❤

I hope you like this one as well!

Jonathan

“Dearest, what has you down?”

He is immediately worried. 

“Just somebody in town made a comment about my speech.”

“Why? You speak fine.” He tucks a finger under your chin, “Fluently and beautifully.”

You smile, “It’s just that it reminded me of what my classmates used to say.”

Jonathan who knows much about teasing prods, “What did they tell you, my love?”

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it, please.” He sits you down.

“It’s, just that... they used to say things about my accent. They’d make fun of me.”

“That’s dreadful.”

“They called me stupid.”

He lifts your chin to meet your eye, “Well, it’s not often I hear something so wrong.”

“Thanks, Jojo, but I can’t help but feel like they were right.”

“My love, the last person I heard who was that wrong told me the Earth was on a flat surface.”

You laugh, “You’ve met somebody that dumb?”

“I can’t say it’s anything compared to what those kids told you.”

You lean up against his chest, “I love you, Jojo.”

“As do I, love.”

Joseph

It was just an ordinary day, Joseph had gone shopping with you.

As you were checking out, the person at the register asked you for $46.99. You asked if cash was okay, and they squinted at you. “Pardon me?”

Once again you asked if you could pay in cash, and again the guy raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry, but your accent is too thick. Can speak to your husband, instead?”

Joseph flies off the handle. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

He grabs the cashier by the collar and pulls him up, eye to eye. “My hearing is a bit off, you wanna say that again?”

“No, no, no, sir.” The cashier waves their arms around and stutters, “Please, put me down!”

Joseph holds his hand out for you to pass him the money, “$46.99. Ring it in.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir!”

Joseph glares at him until you leave. “We are never buying anything from there ever again.”

“Why did you do that?” You slide your change into your pocket.

“There are too many people in this place who don’t respect people who are different, take Smoky as an example. Nobody disrespects people like that, not my friends and especially not you.”

He won’t cool down for a while. He needs some snuggles.

Jotaro

“And what would you two like to order?”

“A plate of spider rolls, would be great, thank you.”

“I’ll have the same,” Jotaro adds.

“I’m sorry what was that, dear?” The waitress asks

“2 plates of spider rolls, please.”

Yet again she asks you to repeat, and you have to say it again

She asks one more time before Jotaro slams his fist on the table, “Spider rolls. Two plates to go and make it fast, I’m tired of you wasting our time.”

She glares at you and hurries off to the kitchen.

Later after other customers give you the hairy eyeball, she finally arrives with the food in styrofoam containers. “And how will you be paying, today?” She fake smiles.

“We’re not. You are. Thanks for embarrassing my partner and me, you bitch.”

With that, he takes your hand and you leave. “Jotaro, you stiffed them the bill!”

“And they deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Yare yare. Because your confidence is worth more than what she gets paid.”

You squeeze his hand in yours.

Josuke

It had been a long school day, and you were strolling down the halls.

You had your arms linked with Josuke, who was taking you out for ice cream once the bell rang.

From behind you, you could hear the snickering of some girls you knew all too well.

“Wow, Josuke. Dating them? Don’t you want to take out somebody who can actually talk?”

The girls laugh among themselves and you just decide to keep walking as if you didn’t hear them, but Josuke stops in his tracks.

“What was that?” He stiffens. 

Oh, uh.

That was the telltale sign he was pissed. You haven’t seen him stop that suddenly since some guys dissed his hair. You felt bad for how bad the new nose job was that they received. 

“Josuke,” You plead. “They aren’t worth it.”

He whips around to face you, rage evident in his eyes, “You are well worth it, Y/N.”

You watch him turn around and march right up to them, his height seems to be getting clearer to the girls, who were incredibly outmatched. “Care to repeat that?” He practically steams with rage.

The ring leader shrivels away, “It was just a joke, Jojo.”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” His fist reaches the wall up above them, “Only they can call me that,” He offhandedly points in your direction. 

“You wanna find out what happens when you dis them?” The girls begin to pale and shake in their uniforms. 

“HIGASHIKATA! Detention, now!”

You ended up having to tell Tomoko that Josuke was also suspended for threatening students. He missed getting ice cream

But you couldn’t be more flattered. And those girls wouldn’t bother you, ever again.

Giorno

It was a leisurely day when you had told him about how you were insecure about your accent. 

He was braiding fresh flowers into your hair using his stand to grow them. “Cara, there is nothing wrong with the way you speak.”

“That’s not what other kids would say,”

“My love, those kids were thinking of themselves. To boost their self-confidence, they picked on you”

“How do you know?”

“I was bullied a lot as a child as well, love.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“I didn’t waste my time on them. They get nothing out of it if you ignore them.”

“I wish I’d known that sooner,” You pluck some petals off a flower, which is far from the rest, and a different colour.

“Cara, those people are imbecilli. It’s beautiful to be unique, to be special.” He takes the flower from your hand and a golden hand lays in the dirt. 

Soon more flowers, ones just like that one you had began to sprout all over. “Cara, everything is special and wonderful, you have to be blind to see otherwise.”

One flower grows around your wrist and blooms in your palm. 

He leans in, “I am not blind, love.”

[linksthoughtbrambles]

[Not uncomfortable at all!]

(Link's Thought Brambles part 3)

This isn’t uncomfortable at all. Just a completely silent ride. And an extra-long one, too. Next time she decides to leave so late we’ll miss the ferry, I should put my foot down. Say we have to stay for her own safety. The Breach of Demise is much too good of a spot for an ambush. At least not deserted now with the Sheikah excavating day and night, but still a risk. My eyeballs are dry from staring at every single shadow in the canyon. And also from glowering at that guy on Carok Bridge. What was his problem? You’d think we didn’t cross that bridge at least once a week. Who tells the Princess of Hyrule to halt? If I said that to her, they’d find me dangling by the seat of my pants from the nearest spire.

That’s not fair, is it? She’s only yelled at me a few times. Lots of jibes, though. And lots of cold-shoulder. Also a good deal of giving me the slip. Well, trying to. She probably doesn’t know she’s only actually gotten away from me once. I can be pretty sneaky. Still, maybe it’s better that we didn’t stay overnight. I’d’ve had to stay awake all night to be sure she couldn’t leave without me.

Uh.

If the slate is still hearing all this I might be in trouble.

She wouldn’t go back and read it all, would she? She doesn’t like me, but she respects my privacy. She doesn’t barge into my room or demand to know the content of my letters. I remember some of the soldiers my father served with complaining about a general’s wife who always read her servants’ letters. People are always trying to eavesdrop on the Princess. She doesn’t do the same to them. She wouldn’t do it to me. Right? She read it at first, but it took her by surprise. And she’ll have to look at it to try and fix it, of course. Unless she already did. I wish I knew. Purah would tell me if I asked, but it’s too late for that.

Maybe it can’t even keep all those thoughts. It can’t fit that many words on its screen. It could be like the camera rune, though, and you just move one part aside to see the next. But I’ve heard her get frustrated that it can’t keep adding more pictures forever. I heard her talk about, uh, external storage with Purah. Yeah, I think so.

And it’s not like she tells the king much. So unless he decided to learn how the slate worked himself, which seems unlikely, he probably won’t find out about this. Then again, she doesn’t like me. If there’s something in there that could get me re-assigned, she might show him to get rid of me.

She’s really nice to other people on the whole, isn’t she? She was a lot more patient with Carok guy than I would have been. Do you need to see my credentials, good sir? She even smiled a little.

The guy must have been new. The others converged on him after we passed. Probably to tell him what an ass he is.

She hasn’t said a word to me. It’s unheard of after a visit to the Royal Lab. She’s usually excited about something she worked on that day or something they showed her. I guess my brain taking over her slate isn’t very exciting.

How can I keep myself in line if it won’t stop? I can’t just say horse, saddle, bridle, stirrup in my head for the rest of my life. I’m sick of it already.

Time for that last snack.

She hasn’t eaten anything. Did she eat the cardamom bun this afternoon? Did they feed her anything inside? They didn’t bother with me. And we left so late. She must be hungry.

“Princess?”

“Yes?”

“Are you hungry?”

She’s taking a strangely long time to answer.

“Yes.”

“I have a nutcake. I know it’s not your favorite,” Oooh, ooh, that was the absolute wrong thing to say holy crap she’s going to know I read the cookbook recover recover recover recover, “uh, but they keep well.” She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows.

Say something.

Please, please say something.

What if she’s silent for the rest of the ride?

“Thank you, Sir Link. I- I am not unfond of nutcake.”

Okay, it’s in the right-hand saddlebag, really the only thing left in there other than the bun wrapper. Oh, that’s a little unpleasant, isn’t it? I licked that. The nutcake is wrapped, too, though, so it’s not a big deal. Still, I’m definitely not telling her. Oh no, crap crap crap it’s so easy to forget she might see this later. Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think don’t think don’t think don’t think don’t think “Here.”

Why is she staring at it like that?

“I know you- that is to say, I’m sure you must also be hungry.”

Well yeah but I got my second wind. That happens if you stay hungry long enough.

“It’s a rather large loaf. I cannot possibly eat it all, regardless. Here.”

Oh. Oh, she touched the licky part of the wrapper. Maybe I should take the smaller piece so she doesn’t keep touching it. But if I do that, she’ll look at me funny and wonder why I’m doing that when she knows I know she eats less than I do. Then again maybe she’ll think I’m just being generous and letting her have the bigger piece. That’s it, that’s a win-win, I’m taking the smaller one. Just nod, don’t look at her, don’t look. Definitely don’t look. Will she think it’s weird that I didn’t let her keep the wrapper so her hands stay clean? Na, she won’t, because it’s obvious the wrapper was sticky. Again, win-win. Win-win-win, three wins!

She’s still staring at me, isn’t she? I must have done something odd. Made a face or something.

“Thank you.”

Phew.

Good nutcake. I wonder who baked it. Eh, it was probably Plynne. She’s the best at the baked stuff. Maybe I should tell her that. It might surprise her a lot, though. Have I ever said anything to her at all? I just pick up stuff when we’re going to travel. It’s like she can read my mind. I eye something, she wraps some up for me. Wow, maybe she can read my mind. The slate can. So it’s definitely possible. All the old stories say Hylians used to have cool mind powers, or at least some of us did. Maybe some people still have them and they keep it secret because it’s an awesome advantage to have. Why not? Mipha can just magically heal people and Urbosa can make lightning and Daruk does that crazy shield thing and Revali, well, let’s not think about Revali. I don’t seem to have anything magical going on, though. You’d think the so-called legendary hero would have some cool hero powers but I’m just me. I’m good with the sword, though, I always have been. I’m really fast. I do a mean backflip. Freaks the other guys out. And I’m sneaky. Is that magic? Doesn’t seem like it. I’m small and light, of course I’m fast and can jump easily.

I’m small. People don’t like that much.

I wonder if Plynne knows I keep looking at the deserts for the Princess or if she just thinks I’m very greedy. I wonder if she knows about the fruitcake thing. She still bakes it. Not as much anymore. It doesn’t go quite as fast now that the Princess doesn’t eat any. She used to really love that stuff. It’s so unkind. It’s not like there’s much in her life she can actually enjoy, and they had to ruin it for her.

Na, Plynne doesn’t think I’m greedy. She smiles at me. Sometimes she even gives me a wink. She always gives me at least two of the sweet things.

Imagine if the Princess can and does read all of this later. What will she think? She already doesn’t like me, but she’ll know how much I think about food. I guess I should be glad I AM mostly thinking about food today. At least food is, you know, acceptable. Stupid puns are stupid. And other things are just not at all okay and fountain. Street. Horse. Stars. Moon. Cloud. Houses. Window. Brazier. Gate.

Almost there. It’s extremely late. I’ll let the stable hands take the horses tonight. I should escort her to her room. She doesn’t like that, but there’s something about her walking alone across the bailey late at night that worries me. She just seems so exposed. Not that I think anyone in the castle means her harm, but if someone did, late at night when most people are asleep is the time to try something.

____

Read Next: Zelda's Dictation One (occurs later that night)

Read this fic from the beginning (it makes more sense that way).

Follow this link to the post list for this fic.

[haileygarciasunshine]

Scrooge

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,117

Warning: None

Written: December 3rd, 2020

Posted: December 13th, 2020

Summary: Kylo is a bit of a Scrooge during Christmas time.

Christmas Masterlist

Sighing, you were up to your eyeballs in paperwork. It wasn't unusual for this time of year, especially since there were always rumors going around that Kylo wasn't a fan of Christmas. Glancing at the clock it was already in the early morning hours. Groaning, you laid the upper half of your body on the table.

"What are you still doing here?" A husky voice questioned from behind you.

Gasping, you quickly sat up allowing yourself to lock eyes with Kylo.

"I...uh...I was just finishing the paperwork you gave me, sir." You spoke as heat danced along your cheeks, as you dropped your gaze to the table scattered with paper in front of you.

"Oh," He stated simply.

Without another word, you quickly searched for your pen before gathering parts of your work. It was unknown how much time had passed since the interaction between you.

"You know you could've waited until this morning to finish up your paperwork." He spoke nonchalantly, taking a seat directly across from you.

Raising an eyebrow you gazed upwards at him. "So you could pile more work on me? No thanks."  The realization dawned on you of what you said.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Kylo let out a sigh, before rubbing along his face. "No, you're right."

"Oh?"

"I hate this time of year." He muttered, crossing his arms along his chest.

Nodding your head, you decided you didn't want to press your luck any further than you already had.

"I take it, you're one of those people who like this time." He spat bitterly.

Flinching at his words, you nodded your head.

Kylo huffed in response.

"Why do you hate Christmas so much?" You asked, folding your arms atop one another allowing you to rest against the table comfortably.

Keeping eye contact, he raised a questioning eyebrow at you.

You shrugged. "You already divulged that you hate Christmas," You let out a sigh. "You might as well tell me why." You tilted your head slightly.

"I was never close with my family."

You nodded your head, before pushing off the table. "I'm sorry to hear that." Sorrow in your voice.

"Supreme Leader." Hux greeted as soon as he walked onto the bridge. Surprise was evident in his voice as he glanced between you and Kylo.

Clearing your throat, you scurried out of the bridge. Once you made it to the elevators, you closed your eyes before leaning fully against the metal wall. Your head hitting the metal with a soft 'thud'. Exiting the elevator you ran into a body.

"Hey!"

"Watch it!"

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you chuckled. "What're you guys doing?"

"We're going to breakfast...Like normal people." One of your friends chuckled. "You look exhausted."

You rolled your eyes. "Gee, thanks, you really know what to say to a girl to make her feel special."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Offering your friend a warm smile, you shook your head. "It's alright...I...I need to get changed."

Rushing towards your quarters, you were quick to change into a fresh uniform. Leaving your room, you made it somewhat down the corridor before you walked into someone. Your hands gripping their biceps, steadying you, while theirs gently gripped your waist.

"Kylo? I...I mean Supreme Leader."

"I..." His voice trailed off as he gazed down at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, continuing to stare at him.

"It's alright." He offered you a smile.

"I....We..."

"Cat got your tongue, Y/N?" He teased chuckling as he tilted his head.

Your jaw fell slack as you gawked upwards at him. Since working for the First Order, you had never heard Kylo make a joke.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head slightly. Taking a step back you put some space between you.

"Is there something I can help you with, Supreme Leader?"

Kylo frowned at your words. "I-"

"There you are!" Your friend rushed toward you. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Following your gaze, they were surprised to see the Supreme Leader standing before you much less without his helmet.

"S..Supreme Leader." They stuttered, acknowledging him. Turning back towards you, they smirked. "I'll see you later, Y/N."

"Wait!" You called turning with their movement attempting to grasp their hand preventing them from leaving. Chuckling they moved so you weren't able to do so.

Heat danced along your cheeks, as you turned to face Kylo.

"D...Do you want to join my friends and me tonight?" You rushed out, dropping your gaze to your feet as you felt your hands beginning to perspire.

"What?" Kylo asked taken off guard by your question.

You frowned not daring to meet his gaze, as thoughts of your friendship being ruined clouded your mind. Kylo was one of your closest friends, but there was always underlying flirting going on.

Opening your mouth to respond, Kylo cut you off. "Are you sure?" His voice filled with uncertainty, something you hadn't heard in the time you've known him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You questioned your voice breaking slightly at the thought of him being alone on Christmas Eve.

---

Your friends were throwing an intimate Christmas party. Not many people were at the party, allowing you to hide away in the corner. Glancing around the room, you didn't see the one person you were looking forward to seeing.

Sighing, you took a sip of your drink before turning to gaze out of the glass window.

"Why are you hiding in a corner?" Kylo's voice sang through your ears.

Smiling, you felt the fireworks erupt in your stomach. Turning to face him, you couldn't help yourself from checking him out.

"Parties aren't my thing." You shrugged taking in his appearance. He had chosen to wear a tux with a long tie, it complimented your little black dress nicely.

Raising his eyebrow, he gazed at you. "Why did you have me come then?"

A smirk made its way to your lips. "Because then we could hide in a corner together."

"Look up!" Someone shouted from behind Kylo.

With widened eyes, you both gazed at each other worriedly. Mistletoe. Bringing his gaze back to yours he was unreadable. Nodding your head, you quickly closed the space between you, as Kylo's hands landed on your hips. Your hands latching in his hair before your lips collided against one another. The kiss was over much sooner than you'd like. Your breaths mingled as you gazed at each other.

Clearing your throat, you took a step back. The bottom of your dress suddenly caught your attention as you began smoothing it over.

Kylo's hand gripped your jaw gently as he angled your head upward. "I have feelings for you, Y/N."

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