#not sure if it counts as a reader insert or self-insert when i just draw my persona as the reader

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

I started working on this shortly after I posted the first designs for this AU.

Here we have Y/N's first meeting with Moon, who is stopping a bandit from robbing her.

I'll be posting just the last panel its own in a separate post in case anyone wants to reblog just that image.

Link to post with only the last image!

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To Be Seen

Azriel x Reader

This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.

This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.

Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.

Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask

Word count: 2,389

Pt2

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.

"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."

Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.

"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.

Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."

Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.

"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."

"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.

With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.

The word tasted sour on your tongue.

Burden.

Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.

"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.

"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.

Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"

"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.

Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.

Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.

"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.

Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.

No time like the present.

Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.

Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.

Would anyone love you like this?

You couldn't think.

Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.

Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.

"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.

"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."

The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.

"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."

Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.

"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.

Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.

"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.

Guilt?

Worry?

Longing?

You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.

"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.

While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.

"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.

"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.

"I walked."

"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.

"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.

Pride.

Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.

Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.

"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.

But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.

"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.

"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.

Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.

Maybe you would be okay.

[froggiewrites]

Picture You (1/4)

Pairing: Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: The crew is celebrating their latest victory when they find you on their laps, drunk and clingy and affectionate, begging for attention. Sanji and Zoro both deal with a clingy drunk, and have deal with the unwanted feelings it brings from deep within them. Warnings: Masturbation, Self Loathing, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sanji has a praise kink, Hurt/Comfort (comfort in future chapters) Word Count: ~2k Notes: This chapter is just Sanji, next chapter will be Zoro's. Also this is in third person, which I know is kind of uncommon for reader inserts, but it felt right for this one! Crossposted from Ao3 Next Chapter

Sanji is in hell.

He thought this was heaven, this deck with these people, surrounded by warmth and love and women, as they drank and sang. It felt real and right in a way the rest of the world never had. Nami was laughing as she and Usopp swapped stories, and his angel...she had graced him with a smile that he swore stopped his heart. She was normally reserved, meek, so worried to draw attention, like she was afraid to live in the sun. He had always wondered what she would be like without fear, with reckless abandon, and now, a few drinks in, he has gotten to see it. She's giggly, overjoyed, and, most importantly, touchy.

He had brought her another drink, hoping to receive nothing more than a gentle smile and a quiet thank you, and she instead gifted him with something he couldn't even have imagined: her chest brushing against him, her hands on his chest, her face so close to his he could feel her breath as she whispered, “Thank you, Sanji.” 

She lingered, and he was frozen, face flushed, before slightly adjusting his hips back out of precaution. He didn't want to risk scaring her away, as her eyelids drooped and she gave him a pouty look he had often dreamed about. 

“You're so wonderful, Sanji, y'know that? So wonderful. And caring. And nice. And good.”

Her words were a little slurred. She didn't know what she was saying, but that was okay. Just to hear it, to feel her sincerity, even when misguided, was enough to bring a tightness to his chest. She thinks he's good. It cuts somewhere deep, somewhere he doesn't like to dwell, and he narrowly avoids his insides pouring out, a confessional to his goddess of all his sins, his wrongs, and his wish for acceptance. 

But he doesn't fall to his knees quite yet. He stays on his feet, and instead focuses on a different thought, wrong and dirty and surely a disappointment to her but one much easier to swallow: her voice, low and warm as it is now, whispering about what else he is. One phrase comes out above the rest, and he pulls his hips back a little further.

Good boy, her voice in his head whispers. You're doing so good, Sanji, you're making me feel so wonderful.

He swallows, tries to screw his head on right, but he subtly presses their chests together anyway. He can't help it. Her hands slide upwards, reaching to rest behind his neck. 

“I've missed you, y'know. You haven't come and sat with me all night!” Her smile is goofy and toothy, entirely unconcerned with how it might look. She doesn't smile like that often; he's privileged to see it.

Her mouth is doing something else in his mind.

He allows his hands to rest on her hips. He can repent later. 

“Oh yeah? You missed me?” His voice is deeper, and he prays it sounds cool and purposeful and not like he's trying to hide how unbearably horny he is right now.

“I did,” she chirps, leaning closer. He can feel every inch of her breasts, the ones he has tried so hard not to familiarize himself with despite how often his eyes would drift to them. His hands twitch, but he manages to resist the urge to grab them, to roll the nipples he can feel through her shirt through his fingers like he's imagining.

“I’ve missed you too, angel.” He leans closer, and he can see her pupils dilate as she bites her lip. In his head she continues to whisper such lovely things, more and faster and I love you, Sanji!, but he pushes them down. She's in front of him now, asking so nicely for his attention, and to wish for more is a sin he could never repent enough for.

“Will you stay? I want you to stay.” Her voice is nothing more than a whine, and the sound cuts right through him. She pulls him closer, their noses brushing, and if he didn't know better he would think she was about to kiss him.

“Anything you ask, angel.” She doesn't know how much he means it. She doesn't know how much he wants to be here, with her, against her, in her. She is everything, and he is nothing, but still she asks him to stay, as horrible and twisted and unworthy as he is. Even now, as his hands slowly slide down to her ass, she's asking him to stay. Does she not understand? Is she simply too good to understand how unworthy he is, they all are, to stand beside her?

He sits on the deck, pulling her down with him, long legs on either side of her. She begins to shift forward, and he feels his stomach drop with both fear and excitement. On the one hand, he's hard as a rock and she's about to feel it. On the other, he's hard as a rock and he's about to feel her. He's frozen, unable to figure out if he should stop her or not, and by the time his brain catches up she's already straddling him. Her chest rubs his, her plush thighs wrap around his hips, and her warmth rests so very close to his crotch.

Sanji quickly realizes this problem is going to be much worse than initially expected.

Her cold nose nuzzles his neck, and she whispers to him, “This is just as good as I thought it would be.”

She thought about him.

She thought about wrapping herself around him, sitting on his lap, not caring about the rest of the crew watching. She couldn't know the implications of this, his angel, his pure, sweet goddess. She can't understand what she's doing to him. She can't be thinking about how he can feel her nipples through her shirt, about how he can see right down it, about how her lips feel resting against his neck. She certainly can't be thinking about how his cock feels pressed against her inner thigh.

She shifts, and he can't repress the moan he lets out, quiet enough he thinks he might be lucky enough for her not to have heard.

“What a pretty sound.” Her voice is a purr, and he feels her lips brush against his neck.

Jesus Christ.

Her head shifts from his neck, and they're looking each other in the eye now. 

“You're so beautiful, Sanji, y'know? So pretty.” Her lips get closer. her thigh moves again, and he bites the inside of his cheek so hard it might bleed. She doesn't know, he insists to himself. She's just drunk, and innocent, and he's an evil and vile man for allowing it to get so far.

His hips jerk upward.

In his head, she's on a bed, pressed against silk sheets. Their hands are intertwined. Her face is twisted with pleasure, and he’s the one giving it to her. She's so lost in it she's near tears, little moans eking out of her mouth, and he is too much a gentleman to tease her, so they're growing louder with each and every thrust. She is around him, tight and warm and wet, holding him in because she wants him. She wants him there, with her and inside her, and he is there because he will give her anything she wants.

In reality, she is still obstructed by clothing, but he can almost feel a wetness against him. His imagination, surely. She's staring him in the eyes, her pupils blown wide from the alcohol, and she is near unblinking. She is doing the same in his head. She is looking at him. By god, she is looking at him, and she does not find him lacking. She is looking at him and she wants him.

Her thigh shifts again.

She whispers to him, “Y'know, Sanji, I really care about you. I don't think I say that enough. I really, really care about you.”

He manages to mostly choke down the sound, but he can't keep his hips still as they jerk into her clothed core. He feels the stickiness fill his pants, the warmth, the shame, but he keeps staring in her eyes all the same. She leans closer. He can feel her breath on his lips. He can feel her hands begin to slide down his body, as they very deliberately grab at his chest. And lower. And–

“I need to go.” He shoots up, practically shoving her off of his lap. He can still feel it, and worse, he's getting hard again just looking at her, as his brain continues to use her voice to say the most terrible, wonderful things. As it whispers again and again, 

I care about you, Sanji. 

Please stay, Sanji. 

I love you, Sanji. 

Sanji, Sanji, Sanji!

“But I–” He doesn't let her finish before he sprints below deck. God forbid she sees. God forbid anyone see. The rest of the crew were feet away. They could have seen, could have heard. Could know what a horrible, vile pervert he is.

He ignores how his pants tighten even further at the thought.

He slams into the bathroom, barely remembering to lock it behind him, before ripping his pants off. He looks down as his cock springs out, and he just barely remembers to feel shame before bringing his hand to wrap around it, still sticky. 

What a horrible man he is. How awful. How evil.

You're such a good boy, Sanji.

Maybe he is horrible. Maybe he really is a monster.

You're so good for me. So right.

No one would care for him, twisted as he is. Not if they knew better.

I love you, Sanji.

He cums again, tears running down his face, imagining a world where he deserves it. Where he is better. Where he is whole. Where she looks at him like she did on the deck, like she did in his dreams, and he feels no shame or bitterness for it.

He's quiet as he cleans himself up. He makes sure he gets it all, and he doesn't allow the thought of her tongue cleaning it up instead to take root. Instead he shoves himself back into his pants, filthy as they are, and makes his way above deck again, drinks in hand. He has to make up for this, for himself, for it all.

His eyes search for her, as they always do, and he nearly screams at the sight.

She's curled in Zoro's lap, face pressed into his chest, arms wrapped around his midsection. That wretched, bastard swordsman isn't even looking at her as he takes another drink, one arm wrapped around her protectively. It turns his stomach. It makes him want to cry. It makes the little voice in his head just a bit louder.

At least he isn't a monster.

At least he isn't using her for his own satisfaction.

His hands shake as he hands her her next drink, but she smiles at him anyway, unaware of what happened below deck. Unaware of the turmoil she's putting him through. Innocent, innocent, innocent.

She smiles at him, warm and kind and a little sleepy. “Thank you, Sanji. I can always count on you.”

And she can. No matter his sins, no matter what other horrible sickness plagues his mind, she can count on him. That has to count for something.

That night, he dreams of her thighs, her breasts, her lips. her voice.

I love you, Sanji.

He wakes up alone.

[abbysbasement]

ABBY ANDERSON NSFW ALPHABET

AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5

content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):

reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’

MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY

word count: 5.4k (oof.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-

nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :(( feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.

of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.

sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.

in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.

she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”

loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times, like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say, that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.

but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.

but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.

"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."

":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."

"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"

under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!

sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.

“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”

she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.

after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.

...it’s going to be a long session.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.

abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)

one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.

when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader Headcanons Part Two

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word count: 2.3k (warnings: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Roman Roy, when did you make such a permanent camp in my little heart? Thank you for all the messages and comments asking for part two of these headcanons! Part one of these headcanons are here, they were initially written as age gap headcanons but I think these could be enjoyed with any (adult) reader's age in mind at this point :) Also please continue to fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

- When your friends ask exactly what's going on between you and Roman it's not easy to answer. Deep down you know that there isn't anyone he feel closer to, Roman opting to spend as much of his time hassling you as possible, but he doesn't exactly articulate what he's feeling, leaving you to piece together the clues in his behaviour to work out just what you mean to him.

- Like the first time you ever saw him scared; you were both stood leaning against the back wall of the bullpen while Logan set up a makeshift stage to rally the troops and reassure them that despite the recent headlines 'he wasn't fucking going anywhere.' Roman had been his usual sarcastic joking self as the speech kicked off, happy for a reason to have you huddled next to him, unable to draw his gaze from your face, awestruck by your beauty even in the office's hard fluorescent lighting, and then Logan raised his voice. His shouts of 'killing the competition' and 'annihilating anyone in their way' immediately turned Roman from a charming, blasé professional to a scared little boy, stood frozen to attention lest he do something to piss off his father. You watch as his eyes all but clenched shut at the chorus of shouts, his jaw tensing to the point we were sure you could see his muscles trembling. Conscious of the crowd around you, you scooted one small step to the side, edging closer to Roman until with a gentle lean your right shoulder delicately met his left. You stilled as you gaged his reaction, not wanting to push a man who already had a habit of retreating away from any affection shone his way. But after a few seconds you watched his eyes blink open, his lips parting to let out a trembling sigh as he leaned his weight slightly into you, your brushing shoulders the anchor he needed in the storm of his father's tirade. Even after Logan's speech had ended and the crowd dispersed, he seemed reluctant to part himself from the warmth of the corner you shared, promising to come find you later 'just in case the Roy's hadn't wasted enough of your time today.'

- The supportive instincts you felt towards Roman as you grew close were not unreciprocated, the usually isolated man being surprised by his own protective streak as it emerged. It would come across in small ways at first, Roman keeping an eye out for who spoke to you at parties and inserting himself in the middle of conversations if he thought someone was getting a bit too friendly. He'd hold a door open to guide you through, putting his hand on your lower back as you moved past him only to feel his entire body jolt with electricity at the slightest bit of contact with your skin.

- One morning he'd be perched on the edge of your desk, where he found himself more and more these days, the hours he spent away from your company dragging until you were together again, like his life had been spent entirely in the shadows but suddenly he had the sun all to himself in you. As you let him fill you in about the latest drama from the top floor, the deafening shriek of the fire alarm blared down on you, making you flinch with its uncomfortable volume. Before you could move out of your seat, you felt the warm hands of Roman Roy settle either side of your face, protecting your ears as he tried to mouth 'It's just a test' over the echoing rings. As his hands rested against your cheeks they didn't tremble or twitch like he usually did around you, they were soft and safe, comforting you while blocking out the noise, Roman pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he felt touching you like this, your soft, rosy cheeks warm under his touch. It took him a few adoring seconds too long to realise the alarm had stopped and now you were just staring at him with a soft smile that had his stomach turning in a way he didn't quite recognise, but wouldn't mind feeling again.

- Reading between the lines is an essential skill when it comes to being close friends with Roman, his childhood of ridicule and discipline making him wary of opening himself up and asking for what he wants. You find him waiting for you in the Reception of Waystar one morning, practically launching himself out of his seat once you step through the large glass doors.

"Jesus don't you ever take a day off? Like, just fucking play hookie sometimes?" First thing in the morning you feel like you've joined a conversation that's been happening without you for an hour, trying to get catch up,

"Uhh, I guess I usually take the holidays off, and my birthday. Why? Should I be playing hookie on some random Thursday in April?" You watch his expression closely, recognising the familiar action of his mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the perfect nonchalant way to ask for something, his voice quiet when he speaks again as if he's already hurt his own feelings before you get the chance.

"Fuck you, this random Thursday happens to be my birthday." He feigns looking hurt that you didn't already have this marked in your diary, but you can see what Roman needs and just how badly he needs you to be the one to suggest it.

"Today's your birthday? Happy Birthday Roman! You should definitely take today off! And I should play hookie with you! Come on, let's get out of here." You dial the enthusiasm up to 100 and drag him from the building before he can attempt to make an unconvincing argument that that's not why he mentioned it, grateful that your gentle grip in his hand seems to have momentarily rendered him speechless.

- You spend the rest of the day sat in a local park in the sun, having takeout delivered for lunch, including the best cake your delivery app can make happen at such short notice, watching Roman protest as you tell him to make a wish and blow out the candle, the ever-cynical man telling you that his wish was for 'world peace', so it was guaranteed it wouldn't happen now that you knew.

- The next day when Roman trudged up to his COO office, still internally walking on air after the best birthday he could ever remember. There he found a haphazardly wrapped gift, the first he could ever remember receiving that didn't look like a department store display piece. Inside was a home-baked treat from you, and a planet earth jigsaw with a note that said that his wish of 'World Pieces' had come true. Roman kept that note in the top drawer of his desk whenever he needed to smile, hoping the wish he actually made would come true as well.

- When the nights of family functions grew particularly exhausting, and you had stopped being in Logan's focus enough to merit an invitation, sometimes Roman would find himself torn by indecision of whether or not to try and find you once he escaped the gala in question. Eventually after a few missed late night calls, and an embarrassed cold shoulder from him the next day, you showed him how to just add your phone's location to his 'in case of a work emergency', watching the warm smile flush across his cheeks at how comforted he felt in the knowledge that even when you weren't together, he'd know just how far apart you are.

- It wouldn't be long until one Friday night you'd be at a bar with your friends, probably still trying to collectively decipher what to call you and Roman, having never known anyone quite like him, and suddenly you'd see him slink through the door. He'd look so out of place and uncomfortable in a dive bar without you by his side, increasingly self conscious as each of your friends turn to face him, a knowing giggle spreading round the table as they witnessed the latest event in your bizarre relationship. Roman stood frozen in the doorway as he weighed up what to do, having never thought further than just needing to be wherever you are after a long night of being his father's whipping boy, desperate to be somewhere he felt safe and understood. Recognising the despondent look on his face from reacting to his father's raised voice, you said your goodbyes and collected your things, running over to Roman before he could dash out the door and pretend he hadn't come all this way just to see you.

"I was just about to head home, do you want to make sure I get home safe?" You offered, ignoring the elephant in the dimly lit room of why he was there, a visible wave of relief washing over Roman as he nodded and took your hand,

"Yeah, I'd like that. I have a car outside."

- Roman was clearly on the edge of saying something on the ride back to your place, his lips twitching nervously as if every word that tried to escape them would ruin everything you two had precariously built. It wasn't until he was safely in your home that you perched on the edge of your counter, bringing you to eye level with the fidgeting shape in front of you, that you tried to open the can of worms.

"Is everything okay Roman?" You spoke softly enough that Roman had to stop his pacing and settle into the spot in front of you to reply, letting his torso almost meet your legs where they dangled off the kitchen island.

"All good honey, just all fucking good." He ran his fingers through his slicked back hair as the words felt like acid rising in his throat, even the slightest pet name stirring up every nerve inside of him as he continued, "Speaking of good - we've got a good thing here right?" He gestured between the two of you as he spoke, his hand almost landing on your thigh but never quite braving the landing. His eyes darted up to your confused expression from where they rested, looking down at his shoes like if he didn't see the disgust and judgement on your face then it wasn't there.

You tried to respond kindly, thoughtfully, unsure of exactly how to define the thing between you and even less certain of how Roman saw it,

"Yeah, it's good Roman. We're close." Roman nodded, satisfied enough with the response to continue, desperately trying to ignore the vicious voice of mockery running through his own head, usually echoing his father's words.

"Exactly! We're close...so if I were to call you my girlfriend? That'd be normal right? Like even though we don't..." He trailed off as if he couldn't face addressing his own deviant thoughts or the mental block that stood between him and physical intimacy. His heart hammered in his chest as you considered his words and your own feelings carefully, before gently taking his hand in yours. You let your knees drift apart just enough for Roman to stand between them, encouraging him to take a step forward so your faces were barely an inch or two apart.

"Yeah, I could call you my boyfriend." You tried to deliver the words in the same relaxed tone that the question was asked in, and the walls Roman kept his heart behind betrayed him as a sincere smile flashed across his face at your sweet sentence. He nodded again, his breathing seeming to settle at the agreement, more relaxed now that he knew that these feelings weren't one-sided, that despite being unorthodox this relationship still meant to you what he needed it to.

As the warmth of the moment ran like brandy through his veins he let his eyes drift up to yours, warm and happy, and then to your lips. Roman had never really found himself craving someone's kiss before, but he'd also never felt anything like this, and somehow he knew this time would feel different. Slowly, timidly, like at the back of his mind he still might get a smack across the face at any moment for his behaviour, he leant forward until his lips met yours, barely letting them taste the soft, sweet reception you gave him before drawing back. He took a deep breath and leaned in again, letting himself savour the moment a little longer this time, feeling the corners of his lips tilt up as you kissed him back, the slight pressure against his lips sending his head spinning. His hand found your cheek, somehow even softer than he remembered as he leant his chest forward against yours, his lips parting to capture yours again, needier and hungry to taste more of you, finally understanding why people would write songs and books and films about this feeling, the insatiable need to feel you on his lips sure to plague his thoughts forevermore. You let one hand settle on this back of his neck, thumb stroking softly over the tense muscles there as he forced himself to pull away to breathe, manic hyena laugh echoing through your home as pure exuberance burst out of him that he was finally feeling like this, and with someone as kind and as perfect as you. Quietly you heard him mumble under his breath, "That was actually pretty nice." Which only made you both laugh more, the novelty of finally crossing the line from friends to more, and the ecstatic joy of finding the person you were hoping for, waiting on the other side of that line too.

[oharaslove]

word count: 995 warnings: Miguel x fem!reader. Fluff? Family time summary: Argentina v.s Mexico football (soccer) game with Miguel, Gabi and reader (Argentinian origin) This is really self insert, ahaha First one! Hope you enjoy!!

“Mooom, the game is about to start! Hurry up!” your daughter shouted at the top of her lungs,  “Si amor, o ¿tienes miedo de perder?” Miguel said with a stupid smirk in his face while he passed right by you to go sit in front of the TV next to Gabi. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this man, as IF Mexico would win against Argentina. You just gave him a death stare and proceeded to finish up the snack plate, laughing to yourself. 

What are we, in a parallel dimension?. Every football (soccer) game was the same in this family. When Mexico played against Argentina the house became a war zone. Probably you are to blame, it is known that Argentinians have a very strong passion for sports, but obviously, the favourite sport of all is football (soccer). You just couldn’t believe that even though Gabi was born in Nueva York to a half Mexican dad and a half Argentinian mom, she was the definition of an Argentinian when it came to choosing a side and teasing her dad. 

The funniest thing of it all was that, when you were pregnant, Miguel was sure Gabi was going to take his side, because she was going to be “daddy’s little girl”. Don’t get me wrong, she totally is, but he really didn’t take into account the Argentinian DNA. “Mamaaa…”.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a really annoyed Gabi standing in the doorway, tapping her foot on the floor, crossing her arms and with a really obvious upset look in her face. Yeah…, you also sometimes forget that she is just like you.  At least she was wearing the Argentinian jersey you got her. “Ya voy amor, I am just finishing the snacks”, “I don’t want snacks mom, I want to watch the game!, Let’s goo!” I just like that she went and jumped on the couch next to Miguel, who couldn’t hide his grin. 

You finished the plate as fast as you could to join your husband and daughter, just as the Mexican anthem was playing. You set the snacks on the little table in front of the couch and decided to sit on the small couch next to the big one. If you sit next to Gabi and Miguel you know that you’ll make his life a living hell for the 90 minutes the match lasts. Miguel gave you a small pout, clearly offended that you didn’t want to cuddle with him, but it was quickly replaced with a knowing smile. 

Since the first match you watched together, he knows you can’t sit still. You are really passionate about the things you love, and that is something Miguel adores of you. Even though sometimes it bites him in the ass, cause you also love teasing him A LOT, something that Gabi picked up on. He was hoping this game could end in a draw, he couldn’t stand another night of Gabi and you laughing at him. 

“Ya empieza, ya empieza” Gabi excitedly squealed. You and Miguel stared lovingly at her. She loved watching the games to then copy some plays with her team. She was the best for a reason. 

Thirty minutes went by, not a goal in sight, even though there were good chances for both teams. You had to bite your tongue to not cuss in front of Gabi. The thing you didn’t want Gabi to get at his young age was your bad vocabulary while watching your team. At half time, everything was peaceful. One thing you agreed with Miguel was that you wouldn’t snicker at each other while the game wasn’t on. Gabi didn’t follow the rule so much though…

“Vamos a ganar papá” “Yeah, sure mija, México ganará. And I am going to win our little bet” “Miguel! You betted with our daughter!? Really!?” You said half annoyed and half laughing at him. He knows he can’t bet with you because he always loses. “It is a friendly bet, if Argentina wins she gets ice cream and if we win, I get cuddles with my girls” your husband explained shrugging. You laughed out loud, you can’t believe this guy. He is so cute. 

In no time, the second time started. Argentina started really well until… “GOOLL” Gabi shouted, facing her dad and celebrating. You were laughing so hard you couldn’t even celebrate. Gabi was jumping on Miguel repeatedly teasing him non stop, while he was trying to pretend he was annoyed, but in reality, every now and then, you could see a smile on his lips. Obviously he likes to win, but there is nothing he loves more than seeing the two loves of his life laughing and enjoying themselves. 

After that, Gabi couldn’t sit back down, she was too excited, without mentioning that there were other goals. Soon after, the game was finished. Miguel lost the bet. He crossed his arms and pouted in the cutest way possible. Gabi still was jumping around and saying all the amazing plays she couldn’t wait to try in football (soccer) practice tomorrow, so she didn’t notice when Miguel suddenly rosed up from the couch and grabbed her. She squealed in surprise, but soon broke into a fit of laughter when Miguel started kissing her all over her face. “Noo, daddy, this wasn’t the deal” she said between laughs, almost out of breath. 

Watching that scene you couldn’t help but smile. You know that you chose the perfect husband, and Gabi is lucky to have the most awesome father. He is always so attentive. It always warms your heart how much he takes care of you and your daughter. You hoped he had enough love in his heart to make space for one more, but you will tell him the news later on. For now, you’ll live with this victory and the craziness of only one child while watching football (soccer). Hopefully for Miguel, the next one cheers for Mexico. 

Well, I honestly hate this. But it is the first one, so I will try to improve.

I basically got this idea because the Copa América is just around the corner and I am super excited ahaha.

But anyway, I just wanted to get something out to get the flow of things. I hope that the next one shots are better, so I can go full out in the first series!!

Comments are appreciated (for whatever, correcting grammar or telling me that I suck). Love youuu!!

[jarognieva]

45, 41, 35, 28 and 23 for Micolash :>

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I don't know if this counts as "psyche". But. I think I was inspired by his confidence. It's not that I'm not afraid of doing inhuman experiments now XD But you know. He's crazy and he doesn't hide it. He just do what he wants!

Also his character and his actions once again made me think almost philosophically about good and evil, the value of human life and whether "the end justifies the means". I am very curious how his sect functioned. Did a common goal drive them to do cruel things or is it just human nature?

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

I don't think so... I'm too shy to engage in discussions with complete strangers. Sometimes I would really like to do it, but my nature usually tells me to avoid it ;_;

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

Oh I can't count how many times! Unfortunately I don't write my thoughts anywhere and I forget them :c My thoughts are so quick and chaotic that I don't know how to put them into words...

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

The second option! I really enjoy seeing him with Edgar or Damian (but not only them of course!). I'm not even thinking about self-insert; I feel like I'm too cringe and not worthy - you know, low self-esteem etc, heh. Only one exception - when you draw me on your drawing for my birthday ♥️ It was so adorable! ♥️

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

I'm not sure if I properly understood the question but I try to answer lol. So. I have my own interpretation of this character but I'm very careful with making one clear thesis in the case of media such as Bloodborne. So I prefer to make questions without one "proper" answer.

I often wonder what prompted his fixation on Kos and ascension. Did he want to surpass others? Because he DEFINITELY didn't care about the evolution of all humanity. Simple curiosity? Or maybe he wanted to abandon a completely rotten humanity for which there is no future. I like to think it's mostly (but not only) the latter option. Yharnam didn't rot overnight. The entire society was corrupt, from those in power to the poorest. He figured he had nothing to lose.

As for my interpretation of this character - I still understand his curiosity, his desire to achieve his goal no matter what. it's really tempting to find out how it is to exist as higher being! Oh and by the way, I love the fact that he's probably the only character who actually has a good time xD (I had lucid dreams and I know it would be awesome to have own wonderful nightmare with your magic tricks and own skeletons!)

(Link for ask game here)

[brucenorris007]

"Sonic 06: gameplay is shit, story is shit."

Okay, I somewhat disagree but don't see the need to expend energy toward-

*comparison between 06 and Forces is drawn*

My brain: heyguesswhatyou'rehyperfocusednow

I was going to do things today. . . but here we are.

Okay, up top and up front: 06 and Forces are both flawed, yes.

But they are flawed in fundamentally different ways, and Forces flaws are, quite frankly, far more glaring and demeritorious for a franchise like Sonic than 06. Anyone who, years from now, goes on to claim that "Uh, actually, Forces was peak." the way that some people are saying about 06 now will be just as, if not more, wrong. And I'll attribute such claims to declining media literacy.

BEFORE the youngsters in the fandom start throwing things at me, note that I said just as wrong. 06 wasn't ever as good as some of the mainline games prior or even spinoff titles after.

The difference is, most of 06's issues stem from the fact that it reads as pitiably unfinished.

The problems with Forces begin and end with the fact that it reads like self-insert fan fiction that had either zero beta readers or too many beta readers that were all given editing privileges. There's definitely a place in the world for that sort of creativity, but said place is not within a licensed game that people have to pay for; one that drastically affects the canon of the franchise and how the fans old and new perceive it and the characters within.

All right? Okay, let's get into details.

Let's address gameplay first, since I have less to say about that.

On this count, if nothing else, Forces barely edges out by being functional; granted, that's the end of it. I wouldn't go back to play it again, and the 'highlights' I can recall mostly felt like reskins of stages in the style of Colors but shortened, with boss fights reminiscent of daytime Unleashed. I imagine the primary draw for people is watching their customized 'sona jump and fly around whilst listening to dialogue from the main cast.

And this isn't really a substantive point, but the fact that receiving stuff like outfits like loot crates at the end of virtually every stage feels kind of manipulative and annoys me. If there's unlockable features, put some actual challenge between the player and the prize, like how you perform within the stage. Otherwise it's just another example of "shiny, novelty, tickle brain often, get player to play longer."

Setting that brief tangent aside since that's just a trend in games in general and not Sonic specific, moving on to 06's gameplay. And uh, yeah. The USP was, like the adventure games, supposed to be that you got three interconnected stories and three main characters each with unique play styles.

I suppose 06 showed us before anything else that Shadow really isn't as fast as Sonic, and as an idea, Silver's psychokinesis was cool. If the tracking in the Speed Up stages and the hit boxes in a handful of other areas had been ironed out, there's foundation for a fairly solid experience. Project 06 is basically proof that the base of the game had potential that wasn't realized, whether due to time constraints or other reasons.

As far as environs, the concept for Kingdom Valley showed off the most soul, I'd say, with Silver's future coming in close second. Character design for the Iblis fragments (not sure if that's the official name but I'm doing stream-of-consciousness here) and Mephiles I actually like a lot. I don't think there's anything objectively wrong with them and however you rate them will come down to preference.

Also, the model for Sonic is like. . . ridiculously good. He just looks like an older teenager; it fits with the widely accepted idea that he was 15 as of Adventure 2. Polish it a bit and that's just how he appears in my head when I write about him.

That said, there are only about six different environs that serve as stages, discounting the hub areas, and compared to Heroes' twelve stages, it just adds to that incomplete/rushed feeling.

That's about all I can say on the gameplay aspect. Functional yet non-stimulating technically wins out over some creativity yet patchy. They are games, after all.

Now then, the "story is shit" business.

Look, if you're going to criticize Sonic's story—which, yeah, his should be subjected to more scrutiny, being the titular character—then much of what you can say against it also applies to the first Adventure. Eggman wants to collect a thing (emeralds/Princess), Sonic wants him to not collect the thing (emeralds/Princess) because he's obviously planning to do evil stuff with the thing, Sonic manages to get the thing only for Eggman to snatch it out of his hands.

Multiple times.

Meaning Sonic spends most of the games on fetch quests that Eggman keeps one-upping him on until the penultimate fight.

And those are the beats. Of both stories. (For Sonic.)

And then at the end of both games, a monster you've fought in various forms (Chaos/Iblis) reappears to threaten the world on a scale that requires the seven chaos emeralds to combat.

Super Sonic. Rad soundtrack. Credits.

Granted, much like how Gamma's story was the strongest in Adventure, the quality of the three main story lines in 06 also vary in strength, with Shadow's taking first place.

My point is, in a franchise that is about characters, you don't grade every aspect of the story on the same scale. You weigh the grade of various aspects differently; and the point that gets graded most heavily is:

Character moments; which can encapsulate literal moments, arcs, development etc.

And for all its flaws, 06 has character moments, almost immediately, even. Sonic's first spoken line is "My, that's a pretty snazzy performance there!"

Which, after the tension of Eggman interrupting the festival and threatening Elise, cuts through the moment right away and, paired with the next several seconds, shows who Sonic is. He sees Eggman's robots aiming and waits until the last second to jump before going to town bashing up bots. Even as he carts Elise off amidst homing missiles and explosions, he's grinning the whole time.

Sonic does what he does because it's fun.

And his third spoken line, answering Elise's question of why he's helping, is: "No special reason."

Again, that's Sonic. Doesn't matter who it is, he helps people because he Does what's Cool. And as well as being fun, fighting off Eggman and his bots is Cool.

06, as Silver's introduction to the series, also does a decent job establishing his character of Temporal Bulldozer. He can be aimed, but his solution to problems first and foremost is usually smashing, and it's really tricky to change his mind once he's focused. He suffers from myopia arguably as bad or worse than Metal Sonic. Amy's the only one who momentarily gets him to pause and wonder if really does want to kill Sonic.

Which is a character moment for her. As in Adventure 2, Amy will happily break laws and go against who and whatever to help her friends; and as she did with Shadow, she's rather skilled at getting very hurt people to listen.

She's not unlike Silver in her willingness to do whatever it takes, really; since Temporal Bulldozer can and does traverse time on several occasions to make things right. And up until the last moment, it never occurs to him that anyone but he should bear the burden of saving the world. Blaze has to physically shove him aside so she can absorb Iblis herself.

Silver sees himself as a Hero with a responsibility toward the future just as much Sonic sees himself as just Some Guy.

Finally, Shadow. And man, there's a reason a lot of people say 06 was the last time a game featured Shadow written correctly.

It's me. I'm one of a lot of people.

Team Dark in general gets a fair bit of spotlight in 06. Rouge, an anti-heroine with perhaps the greatest self-interest after Eggman, promises Shadow that she'd stand with him even if the very world turned against him. Omega, who loathes taking orders and prioritizes his own freedom nearly as much as Sonic, takes on Rouge's assignment for him without question or complaint to wait out 200 years to help rescue Shadow.

And Shadow, in an in-game line during his first fight with Mephiles, reaffirms all the progress he made in his titular game that was wholly about discovering his identity: "Don't bother trying to deceive me. I know who I am!"

And, in contrast to the Shadow the franchise first introduced us to, the Shadow of Adventure 2 who was thoroughly convinced that his only remaining worth was his ability to keep his promise to Maria, the Shadow who was so resigned that he chose to plummet through the planet's atmosphere to his presumed death. . .

That Shadow is faced squarely with his fate of persecution, asked why he would bother fighting to protect. That Shadow declares that it the world turns on him, "I will fight as I always have."

He's grown such that he's now willing to fight against fate.

And that's pretty fucking cool.

On the other side, applying the same grading method to Forces, we find what I call (as of just now) character fauxments.

Remember how I talked about 06's introduction for Sonic? How he cuts through tensions, finds joy and fun in fighting bullies and bad guys?

The thing about that, which Forces doesn't seem to understand, is that if you lean too hard on the wisecracks and nonchalance, you end up with a character who reads as either obnoxious or totally tone-deaf. Sonic knows when to take things seriously, yet in Forces he's purportedly been tortured as well as locked up for half a year, Infinite's destroyed countless homes and killed who knows how many people, and yet when Sonic interrupts his fight with Silver. . .

I mean, if Sonic was written correct, you'd cut out a bunch of faff and change his line delivery. Show that he's frustrated by his time confined and absolutely raring to throw hands and get to business; because Sonic does understand when things have gotten real, and while rare, he does get angry. Something like:

"Since you like talking so much, mind sharing the source of your power? I can ask the easy way or the hard way. I've been cooped up a long time, so I'm hoping you pick the hard way."

It doesn't need to be the most original lines in the world, but Sonic's banter in the middle of a war shouldn't be long-winded, no matter how pretentious his opponent is (and damn, is Infinite pretentious. Like to the point that it's the most memorable part of the game.) If there's banter, it should be punchy and succinct; quick, like he is.

Instead, Forces Sonic's attitude is just kind of. . . incongruous with the stakes the game claims to have established. But then, since we don't get a truly convincing scene showing the rest of the cast being sad that he reportedly died, that's not too surprising.

Speaking of setting up stakes, here's an idea. Rather than cutting from Sonic laying battered in the middle of the city for a lazy six-month time skip established by text on the screen, make it clear that "Oh shit, things are different" via gameplay.

After Sonic falls, immediately transition into a level. Where you run from right to left to escape Eggman's fleet. Turns everything on its head, you can witness and navigate the destruction as it's happening and if you string together enough environs, you can even have the city burning in the distance or the skyline as you near the end of the stage and escape to relative safety.

Anyway.

And of course, the notorious character fauxment: Tails cowering in front of an offline Omega.

There's nothing I can say about this fauxment that hasn't been said already. It's not the first time in the series that Tails was portrayed as having regressed to a scared child, but it is the most egregious.

And. . . actually, that's about it, at least off the top of my head. Which might speak to how short the game is and how little screen time and action the main cast get aside from Sonic and the player character.

But it's enough to determine that Forces' story, or what stands in for it, is weaker than what 06 offered.

Again, I'm not here to rally a feral defense of 06 as a masterpiece, but its flaws are not on the level of Forces. The reason they're lumped together is the amount of disdain both games got on their release; though in the case of 06, the 2000's were just a weird time when hating things was somehow cooler than liking them, and since 06 wasn't up to par with Adventure 2 or Heroes, people picked an aspect of the game-most often how much the almost final fantasy style model for Elise didn't match up with the Mobian models (and yes, the final cutscene, but there's nothing new I can say about that either, and talking about it here is just an open invitation for someone to blow it out of proportion again) and dogpiled the hate on the game.

Sonic 06 feels unfinished owing to a lot of little and larger details. Knuckles' portrayal and having little to do in the story, poor optimization leading to nearly twenty second loading times, BLAZE BEING A GLOWING NEON MISSED OPPORTUNITY! (SEGA, I know I was literally twelve when the game was released, but my Phoenix headcanon works so well and makes her appearance in both Rush and 06 work! A retroactive fix would be so easy and we could get more adventures in her dimension!)

Even acknowledging all that, though, there were still attempts at creativity that just, for one reason or another, didn't pan out. There's significant potential here.

Forces is just. . . a mess. In every sense. And I understand how a mess can be attractive to a fandom, because a mess means you can take whatever you want from it and organize things however you choose.

But a mess that's sold as a finished game is not the same as a rushed title with visible untapped potential.

[viperwhispered]

hi hi ner!! 👻💕🎨 for the ask game !!

Aaa Ian here you are again coming in with the questions that I really have to think about (it’s fine don’t worry but oof these aren’t easy ones for me to answer).

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I mean all my opinions are factually correct so… Jk, jk. Kind of a tricky question, tho 🤔

I know I’ve said this before but I kinda never know when character / canon interpretation or interpolation crosses over into headcanon territory. Plus I generally do try to be pretty canon-compliant and base my interpretations on that.

Basically, for all those folks making headcanon lists and stuff, my brain just does not work that way and not sure I'd ever be able to produce one of my own.

Hmm…

Honestly, I’m totally drawing a blank here, sorry 😔 I guess if I’ll ever throw something wild into a fic, you’ll find out?

Only thoughts I can even kinda grasp rn are nsfw and uhhh some of those are definitely more personal wish fulfillment than actual headcanons.

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Aaa how can I even choose.

I mean also a big chunk of it is smut and a lot of it isn’t widely available (and I probably can’t remember the existence of half of it off the top of my head), so…

I suppose in some sense Of Cows and Curses and Consequences (Hatsuharu x reader, Fruits Basket) is my magnum opus, at least as far as longfic and plotting is concerned. Yes, it is very unfinished and I haven’t touched it in ages, but I worked so properly on that one, outlining my chapters and the story (like, I’ve got notes like 10 chapters ahead of what’s been published), which makes it stand out. Plus it was one of the first if not the first fic I ever wrote (if we don’t count the beginnings of a young teenager self-insert for Earth’s Children that never made it past couple hand-written pages). So yeah, a bit of a “go big or go home” start to my fic writing journey. 😅

Also whatever was the first fic I wrote with a friend’s tastes specifically in mind. Always love it when I can get someone right in the feels (definitely a big reason for why I write in the first place, but that’s a story for another time before I get even more off-track).

Honestly there’s so many pieces I could consider notable for being a first in something or otherwise meaningful but I really can’t pick just one.

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Oh boy so many Jamil scenes coming to mind. Fixation would have so many tasty bits (some of them even sfw, oop), some whump for the Kali & Shiva analogy thoughts (it could be so cool even if it also would hurt me so bad 😭), Jamil’s first realization moment (or any flustered bit, really) from How Not to Be Swept Under… All of them would be lovely ngl.

Though honestly, if anyone ever were to make anything (draw, write, whatever) inspired by my works, I would probably just combust and live off the high for a week (or a few).

I’m afraid my answers for these ones are kinda rambly and not super definitive but alas, it is what it is. Can’t pick just one for many of these. Still, ty for the questions Ian! I hope my answers weren't too disappointing.

(ask game here for anyone else curious)

[hauntedsideofthemoon]

BROKEN HEART OF GOLD - chapter 7; it's always darkest before the dawn

AO3 link

pairing: chishiya x gn!reader

format: gender-neutral original character/self-insert, they/them pronouns are used when necessary, no use of y/n or "___", feel free to picture the character however you wish!

tags: canon-typical violence, slow burn, ocs as side characters, mentions/depictions of mental health issues

word count: 3110

________________________________________________________

It took me a while to get back to my senses. When my eyes came back into focus, they were fixated on the lifeless body next to me. I couldn’t believe I had just killed someone.

"Ohoh? Now, this is the most interesting thing I’ve seen all day." A voice I had grown to dislike rejoiced while approaching me. Niragi stood beside the guard’s corpse, staring at the taser gun in my hands. My fingers were still clasped over the trigger, but his uncomfortable gaze made me drop the gun immediately. Niragi picked it up, admiring it like a child opening a Christmas gift. ‘This is going to be pretty useful to me,’ his tone more amused than ever.

Chishiya strolled past us and stopped in front of the pendulum he was inspecting earlier. The black light from his collar revealed the invisible ink drawing on its surface: a simple arrow pointing down.

He stepped inside the circular platform and tried to stop the sphere from swinging. When it halted, Chishiya reached his hand under the sphere and grabbed a small key that had been taped to it. He unlocked his collar and let it drop to the floor.

He was finally able to leave the museum, and I would be trapped with Niragi, who now had a weapon in his possession. Usagi was looking down at Chishiya’s collar on the floor when I walked over to her.

‘Hey, Usagi, are you okay?’

‘I didn’t know the collar’s light did that. I need to move fast before mine turns off, then.’

I offered to help Usagi after she saved me from the night guard. She showed me her phone with a picture of some bones, probably part of a fossil. Opening the floor map, I pointed at a dinosaur exhibition inside the gallery and we rushed inside.

Usagi was looking around the displays, searching for any drawings that would glow under the lights of her collar. She spotted a big arrow on the floor, leading up a set of metal stairs in the center of the room. More arrows appeared as she walked up, guiding her all the way to the top.

Our collars turned off at that exact moment, but Usagi had already found the key taped to the dinosaur skeleton close to the stairs. She stretched an arm to grab the key and unlocked her collar, hanging it on the railings before she came back down.

‘Oi, you can’t run away like that!’ Niragi stormed toward me and snatched the booklet from my hands. ‘I told you to pick this thing up because I needed it, and you thought you could get away from me with it?’

‘No! I just wanted to help Usagi, and I was going back to–’ I quit talking for a moment, growing irritated by his presence. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. ‘Alright, you know what? I already know where I need to go, and I’m sure I won’t be helpful to you anymore since I’m so ‘useless’. So you can keep the map, alright? I’m leaving.’

I brushed past him, heading to the stairs. Chishiya was standing near the entrance, observing one of the fossils. ‘I thought you would have left already, after getting your collar off,’ I gave him a questioning look.

‘There’s still something about this place that I wanted to check,’ he responded without looking at me.

I shrugged. By his tone, I could tell he wouldn’t explain it further even if I asked.

Suddenly, a feminine scream echoed through the gallery. The Beach girl that had arrived with us came running from the other entrance, fleeing from a guard.

All five of us rushed to the stairs, crowding the small corridor. I could barely see anything in this tiny place, with everyone’s phones flashing lights all around as we ran. Finding the stairs that led to the lower floor, I immediately made my way down.

Chishiya followed me inside the new room with a suspiciously relaxed look on his face. 'You should move quickly, in case the guard comes down after us.' He glanced at me before making his way among the displays.

I followed Chishiya, planning to ask for his help in finding the humans exhibition since I didn't have a map anymore.

‘I didn’t say you could follow me.’

‘I’m gonna need your help finding my clue. Niragi stole my map.’

‘That’s not my problem. Figure it out yourself.’

‘Just this time, please! You said you’ve been to this museum before, so you can explain to me where the displays are and I’ll leave you alone, okay?’

Chishiya’s face was full of displeasure when he turned to me and sighed. He raised his hand and started gesturing toward different directions, explaining the routes that I should take. When he noticed my confused expression, he interrupted his instructions and looked away. ‘You’re just going to get lost anyway. I’ll show you where it is, but after that, you’re on your own.’

I was a little offended by his words, but glad that he agreed to guide me. I thanked him with a smile before sticking to his side. Chishiya was about to turn a corner when he abruptly stepped back and pulled me down into hiding, placing an index finger in front of his lips.

‘There’s a guard over there,’ he whispered, ‘we need to go through that room at the back, but there are no places to hide in there. When I give you the signal, run as fast as you can.’

Chishiya raised a hand while peeking over the corner and I waited. Then, he quickly lowered his hand before sprinting into the room in front of us, and I closely followed behind.

It was much darker inside, Chishiya’s white hoodie being the only thing I could see in front of me. When he suddenly dashed to the side, I couldn’t keep up with his speed and ended up bumping into the sign he had dodged.

The sharp metal corner scraped my side right above my other injury. I cursed under my breath, pressing a hand over my mouth to muffle a groan of pain while stumbling over the railings.

Once again, our collars turned on at the worst possible moment. Under the faint light, I noticed a bloodstain forming on my shirt.

‘We need to keep moving,’ Chishiya tugged on my arm and dragged me up ahead. I placed a hand over the painful area, trying to endure the huge discomfort.

As we passed through the entrance, a glass display with three human sculptures immediately caught my attention. They had different heights, resembling a person’s growth through life, and I recalled how my riddle referred to a baby, an adult, and an elder with a walking cane. I released myself from Chishiya’s grip and rushed toward the monitor while taking my phone out of my pocket.

‘There’s no time for that!’ Chishiya whispered-shouted at me.

‘No, I need to do this now! What if my next clue is even harder to find?’

‘Whatever, I won't wait for you. I’m leaving.’ Chishiya turned his back and left.

I focused my attention on the scanning process of this QR Code; it finally worked. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I heard heavy footsteps closing by. I ran through the exit, turning the corner and spotting a set of elevators at the end of the corridor. Chishiya was in front of them, waiting for the doors to open.

Walking closer, I gave him a small wave while keeping a safe distance between us. I said I would leave him alone, and he said he wouldn't wait for me, so this felt quite awkward... Chishiya ignored me and turned up the volume on his iPod. By that action as well as the slight furrow in his brow, I could tell he was annoyed at my presence.

Inside the elevators, he pressed the button to the first floor and leaned against the wall. An uncomfortable silence grew between us, and I could hear the faint beat of his music.

The hem of my shirt was drenched in blood, and a broken stitch was piercing from under the cloth. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Chishiya glancing down at the bloodstain. Before I could face him properly, the elevator doors opened and he rushed out, making his way to the exit.

I raised my phone to examine my new clue: a set of cylindrical pieces that looked like the eyepiece of a telescope. I instinctively reached for my pocket where I kept the booklet, only to feel it empty. It dawned on me that Niragi had stolen it and I didn’t know where he could be.

Disappointment filled my body and my collar turned off. The announcer’s voice echoed through the room, there were thirty minutes left for the game.

Going up a long and exhausting set of stairs, I held my phone’s flashlight on to avoid more accidents in the dark. A voice could be heard coming from up ahead, gradually increasing in volume as I made my way up. And then I realized who the voice belonged to...

‘Come on, we have so much time left and no one’s around, it’s a great moment to have some fun together, don’t you think? You’ve seen what happened to the other girl…’

The scene in front of me made me nauseous. Niragi pinned Usagi against the wall, gripping both her wrists above her head and tracing the side of her torso with the taser gun. I was sure she had the physical capability to free herself, but she likely feared being killed while running due to the gun’s long range.

When Niragi noticed my presence, that awful smile on his face disappeared as he looked at me in disgust.

‘What are you staring at, huh?’ He aimed the gun in my direction and I stepped back, ‘This isn’t a public show for you to watch.’

Usagi immediately turned her head upon realizing that Niragi got distracted. She released herself from his grasp and kicked his stomach, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

As his body fell past me, I managed to avoid it and followed Usagi up. I couldn't hold back a chuckle as I heard Niragi cursing while he rolled down.

We stopped to catch our breaths upon arriving at the central hall.

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that... But it was quite satisfying to watch him fall like that.’ Her lips curled into a small grin in response.

‘Well, thank you for distracting him.’ Usagi glanced down at my collar, ‘Do you need help with finding your key? We still have a lot of time left-’ her eyes shifted downward and she noticed the bloodstain on my shirt. Usagi's eyes widened slightly as she asked if I was alright.

‘Oh, this…’ I looked down, hovering my hand over the blotch to cover the stitch poking from under the shirt.

‘It’s pretty bad right now, but I have someone to help me after I leave this place. I just need to find my key as soon as possible.’

I raised my phone and Usagi examined the image on the screen. ‘It looks like a telescope,’ she stated and pointed to her left, ‘I passed by one in that room earlier.’

When I followed her directions, I couldn't believe my luck when I saw it, right at the entrance of the room. The eyepiece was an exact match to the image on my phone.

I climbed over the small fence and began inspecting the telescope. Reaching my hand inside a very convenient hole in the mount, I found a small key hiding inside.

I unlocked my collar and jumped in excitement as a voice came from my phone announcing ‘game clear.’ I thanked Usagi and gave her a quick hug, wincing when my injury slightly pressed against her.

We walked in opposite directions after leaving the museum and I headed back to the Beach car. My adrenaline rush ceased as a wave of exhaustion filled my body and the pain in my hip had worsened to the point of being agonizing.

Chishiya was leaning over the passenger's seat door. He had a mixed expression on his face that suggested both satisfaction and annoyance at my survival.

The driver noticed me and explained we weren’t allowed to leave until the other two came back, or the game ended. I sighed at his words before moving closer to the car and leaning on it, hoping that time would go by quickly so that I could get this damn wound treated.

A few minutes passed and screams came from the entrance of the museum. Niragi angrily stumbled out of the building, yelling curses at that Beach girl while he followed her. She ran over and got inside the car, slamming the door beside her.

As Niragi approached, I moved to block the door with my body to keep him from going after her. I stared at him with a serious expression on my face, making it clear that I wouldn’t move out of the way. Chishiya let out a chuckle before distancing himself from us.

Niragi pressed the taser gun against my chest, his gaze piercing deeply into my eyes as he lowered his head. ‘Stay out of my business with others. Unless you want me to kill you, right here and right now.’ I shifted my gaze over to the purple bruises on his face and neck, the results of his well-deserved fall earlier.

The driver intervened, dragging Niragi away from me, ‘That’s enough already. Everyone is here, so let’s head back to the Beach.’

Niragi grunted at him, giving me one last threatening glare, and took his place on the passenger’s seat. The girl sat next to the window, her body trembling as tears fell down her cheeks. She glimpsed at me when I placed myself beside her and whispered a soft ‘Thank you.’

Chishiya walked inside, glancing down at my bloody shirt once again before looking up at my face. He quickly averted his gaze when our eyes met and faced outside the window beside him. The driver stepped on the gas and we finally left.

----------

I was the first to get out of the car when we arrived, struggling my way over to the main lobby. I asked the people inside about Ann, and they told me she hadn’t returned from her game yet.

Their words made me feel nauseous. Or maybe it was because the pain had somehow gotten worse. I lifted the hem of my shirt and examined the damage – My skin looked purple and swollen as blood seeped from the reopened cut, and many stitches were broken.

‘That doesn’t look good.’ Chishiya said as he stepped inside the lobby. The corners of his lips were slightly upturned, though his tone didn’t sound like he was poking fun at me. ‘Ann isn’t back yet, I assume?’

I shook my head in response. Chishiya observed my wound for a few moments, tilting his head as the small grin on his face faded away. I couldn’t guess what he was thinking, and his stare made me a little uneasy.

‘Come with me.’ He spoke without looking up, and his voice almost sounded kind.

‘... What?’

Without saying anything else, Chishiya headed toward the stairs. Something about the way he muttered those words had me curious, so I followed him.

Chishiya walked through a long corridor and led me inside a room, which I assumed was his. He dropped his iPod and earphones on the bedside table before turning on the coffee machine to heat up some water. He searched through the drawers and took out some medical tools.

‘You’ll have to lay on the bed for this.’

‘You’re going to take care of my injury?’

‘If you would rather keep bleeding, you can simply leave.’

‘...How do I know I can trust you with this?’

‘It’s your decision. However, you can’t tell anyone about this.’

I raised an eyebrow at him. There was something behind his eyes I couldn’t quite read, but he seemed serious about that. I lay down on the bed, holding my shirt just enough to expose the bloody mess on my side. Chishiya sat next to me and began preparing the materials.

After putting on rubber gloves, he doused a piece of cloth in an antiseptic solution and gently cleaned the skin around the wound. 

I winced in pain when he removed my broken stitches, though the re-stitching process didn't feel so bad. Chishiya carefully punctured my skin with the thread to close the cut, and his touch was so light I  hardly felt any pain.

It was clear from Chishiya's techniques that he had a lot of experience with this procedure. I felt his warm breath when he leaned over to examine the finished work, covering it with a new dressing.

‘Why did you decide to help me after you said you wouldn’t?’

‘Would you have preferred to be left to die?’

Chishiya's harsh tone didn't match his tender actions. But maybe this was part of his odd personality.

‘That’s not what I meant. Considering your attitude during the game, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had left me there. I’m just curious, that’s all.’

Silence. Chishiya hadn’t looked at me since he offered to patch my wound, and now he had ignored me completely. He discarded the used materials in a plastic bag and dropped the metal tools into the coffee machine.

‘You’re not going to make coffee in that afterward, right?’

‘I don’t drink coffee. I only use this to sterilize my tools.’

I hummed in response and observed him for a few seconds.

‘You haven’t answered my other question yet.’

I waited, but once again, Chishiya didn’t reply. Sighing in defeat, I got up from the bed, holding the hem of my dirty shirt so it wouldn’t brush against the dressing. ‘Thanks, by the way.’

As I opened the door to leave, his voice came up from the other side of the room, almost inaudible.

‘I think you can still be useful.’

Turning my face back to him, he had a familiar sly grin on his face when he shot me a quick glance. I couldn’t tell if he expected me to read his expression, but he let out a snicker at the puzzled look on my face.

I rolled my eyes and left, slamming the door behind me before making my way back to my room.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Last Christmas Dedicated to @antoineroussel  for her winter fic exchange 2k23

Summary: Act 1. Home for the holidays, Charlotte isn’t looking forward to her parent’s annual Christmas party. That is until it provides the opportunity to reconnect with her childhood friend, and AHL player, Adam Lowry.  Act. 2. Charlotte avoid going home for the holidays to avoid the reminder of last Christmas and the heartache that followed only to cross paths with Adam who is now in his Rookie season with the Winnipeg Jets. Charlotte and Adam are forced to face the reality that their friendship may be something that needs to be left in the past.  Kinks & TW: Angst, holiday themed, original character, situation ship, friends-to-lovers, drinking/alcohol, heart break, size kink, teasing/banter, riding, breast play (mild), missionary, protected sex, (i probably missed something here so please be sure to yell at me if I did) ABOUT THE OC: Face Claim: Crystal Reed. Name: Charlotte aka “Charlie” aka “Mini”. Charlotte and Adam are written as childhood best friends. Act 1: Charlie is a University student and Adam is playing with the St. John’s IceCaps who were the WPG Jet’s AHL Affiliate from 2011-2015. Act 2: Adam is playing in the NHL with the WPG Jets.  Word Count: 10011 A/N: Thank you so much for reaching out and inviting me to participate in the exchange! It was an absolute pleasure to be able to write this for you! It was so much fun being able to write an OC again after writing reader inserts since April, and I got to indulge in writing both Adam and Angst. It got me right in the soul. I WAS going to fade to black with this piece (almost 5k words ago), but I have 0 self control... AND I hope you don’t mind that it’s holiday themed because I’ve had this plotted since we first talked about it, but I didn’t get it written until much later than I expected...

Listen to their playlist while you read. Last Christmas now has a sequel series! Read more of Adam and Charlotte in Just Me & You. 

​Act 1. 

“-Charlotte, honey!” 

It was the sickeningly sweet voice of her mother that greeted Charlie as she had done her best to sneak in through the back door. She had obviously failed. She should have known better, really, there was no way that she was going to be able to get away with going unseen when her parents were entertaining their family and close friends for the annual Christmas Party - not when her mother was always keen on showing her off. 

But Charlie had made other plans for the evening. She had intended to avoid the gaudy decore and the seasonal music that was too loud for Charlie to study comfortably. While her mother had tried to encourage her to put the books down, if only for a night, Charlie had managed to sneak out to a local coffee shop under the pretense of studying for the exams that would rapidly approach once she got back to school after the break - and so she hid at that small coffee shop down the road until the hours grew late and the open sign was flipped to closed. 

Warm eyes shut as Charlie turned in place, her head leaning against the door as she shut it to hide the sigh from her mother that hovered at the kitchen island with a glass of wine, and her friends as they gossips. She had hoped that it would have quieted down before she got home. Yet, the party raged on as if it were a frat party back on campus. Forcing a smile, she turned to face her mother and her guests, as her hand raised to draw her bright red scarf from around her neck. Dark hair dusted with freshly fallen snow fell in loose curls down her back as it was freed from where it was tangled in the warmth of her outerwear that was cast aside on a near stool. 

“Hi mom,” her smile was so forced it almost hurt as she looked at each of her mother’s friends awkwardly, “you ladies look like you’re having fun. I would really hate to ruin it-” She spoke causally as she reached for a festive paper plate, her fingers then finding the assortment of finger food that sat out on the counter, “I’m just going to head upstairs-”

Charlie was drowned out by an assortment of coos. All gawking about how grown up she had become in the few short years she had spent away at college focused on her studies, and how she wasn’t the little girl they all so fondly remembered. It left her grumbling as she pushed her way from the kitchen, keeping her head down as she moved for the stairs. Just a few more strides and she would be free, but her mom had other plans as her familiar touch came down on her shoulders to keep her daughter from wandering too far. 

“Ah, Ah, Charlotte,” she tutted her and suddenly Charlotte felt like a child again, “I think there is someone you’re going to be excited to see.”

Charlie had to bite her tongue to hold back a scoff, but there was no hiding how her large doe-eyes rolled as she thought to herself: Oh yeah, I bet there is. And so she followed her mother’s guidance, her expression no short of annoyed as she was forced to walk through crowds of her parent’s friends and over to her father who was entertaining his friends with one of his wild work stories - a story Charlie had already heard many times before, and she was sure everyone else had as well. 

Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face that was meant to excite her beyond the desire to hide back in her room. It was there, seated in her father’s favourite armchair, his face half hidden behind a glass of amber liquor she spotted him. Full lips split, bearing a far-from-fake grin as she reached down to abandon her plate on the near coffee table. After that, there was no stopping her. Adam’s bright eyes that had contrasted her so effortlessly had found her face and he was standing up from the seat to meet her halfway. 

“Dad’s just letting you sit in his chair now, huh, hot shot?” Charlie greeted him playfully, her arms winding around his middle with ease without a thought and it was only as his arms wrapped around her that she realized just how much he had changed since he had left Calgary. Charlie could feel every muscle beneath his white t-shirt and he had easily grown another inch or two since his draft day three years ago. Her fingers moved cautiously over the expanse of his back as she pulled back just enough to look up at him as he returned the stare down at her. 

“Your dad and I, we did make that bet,” Adam half smirked, earning a shake of her head as she left out a laugh. It had been the best seat in the house, leather and perfectly worn in and it reclined. It was one that Adam had sought after for years as a child, so as it had approached his draft, Adam had bet that if he had gone in the top 100 players, whenever he had come back to visit he would get to sit in the chair. Adam had been drafted 67th overall that year, but he had never returned to her childhood home, until now. 

“I didn’t think he’d hold to it,” Charlie countered, casting a glance toward her father before looking back up at Adam, “what are you doing here, anyway? I haven’t seen you since Minnesota.”

“Surprised Mom and Dad for the holidays,” Adam smiled, his hands continuing to linger on the curves of her waist - his thumbs stroking over it slowly and she watched as there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t remember her body feeling like that - hell, they were practically still kids when he had been drafted to the WHL and had only seen each other briefly during his draft in Minnesota. While their history would always remain, they were far from the kids they once were, not they were practically strangers now. “And they would never cancel on your mom, so I wasn’t about to pass up on seeing my best friend.” 

His words made her skin tingle. Did he have the right to call her that still? After so many years of nothing more than sparse text messages and the occasional goofy Snapchat picture? Their different lives had divided them, but maybe now was their chance to really reconnect. 

“You’ve been here all night?” Charlie quirked a brow, taking a step back when she noticed her father cock his head to the side as he had begun to raise a brow of his own. 

She and Adam had always been close - their mother’s bathed them together, and she called her mom Auntie until she was 10 and knew better kind of close - but Charlie wasn’t a little girl any longer and her father knew that - her father also knew that Adam wasn’t the little boy that used to follow her around like a lost puppy anymore. He was a grown man now-

“Since your mom started making dinner,” Adam sighed, his hand reaching up to card through his shaggy brown hair as he cast a glance out the window and to the snow that fell outside, “they sure know how to throw a hell of a party.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the trouble you get into now,” Charlie teased, taking careful strides, and Adam fell in step behind as she moved to the makeshift bar. 

“Me, get into trouble? Never,” Adam was beaming as he leaned back against the wall. 

Charlie shook her head slowly as she mixed herself a drink, her pour a little heavy on the alcohol - but she had to make up for the lost time. Adam was surely multiple drinks deep after spending the evening with her parents, though he hid it well or had developed a very strong tolerance since they had last broken into her father’s liquor cabinet at fourteen. 

“That’s only because you’re always able to talk your way out of it,” Charlie reminded, taking the first slow sip of her drink that burned its way down her throat, “or have you been hit so many times that you’ve lost your silver tongue?”

“Nah, I still got it,” Adam assured. 

“Good, because I don’t think I can handle listening to All I Want For Christmas is You again,” Charlie half groaned, her hand reaching out to take one of Adam’s carefully. 

She didn’t dare look back as she lead him through the living room and to the stairs that would take them up to the second story, and up to her bedroom. Adam didn’t stop her, his steps careful and quiet as he followed up behind her, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he whispered to her, “you really want your father to kill me, huh?”

She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he spoke, and it felt like his laugh was sending vibrations right through her body as they came to her bedroom door. It was just as she had left it when she had moved to campus at seventeen. From her small collection of stuffed animals sitting in her favorite reading chair to the pictures that framed her vanity mirror, her parents hadn’t moved a single thing out of place. Charlie stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her hand gripping the flimsy plastic cup almost desperately. This wasn’t the first time she had Adam in her room, but they had been just kids back then - the click of the door closing had her stomach jumping into her throat - and they had always had a strict open-door policy thanks to her dad. 

“Oh, you’re really wanting dad to kill you now,” Charlie teased him as she turned in place, finding his smile and following his eyes to the pictures on her vanity. They were an assortment of photos from when she was young, and many were with him. There were pictures of when they were babies, to the days they spent at summer camp together, and their most recent photo was framed and sat at the very corner of her vanity. It had been the morning of his draft, their families had gotten breakfast together and he was in the ill-fitted suit of his - prepared for the off chance that he may have been drafted in the first round. 

Adam didn’t reply to Charlie’s banter, and instead shot a smile back at her, his tone soft as he spoke to her, “lots of good memories here.”

“Yeah,” she agreed gently, stepping forward to join him at his side, “we used to do everything together-”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss being kids or us?”

Us. The word left an odd taste in Charlie’s mouth, one that she tried to wash out with the strong alcohol in her drink. They had never really been an Us, had they? Sure, they had been inseparable for most of their childhood, Charlie & Adam, but that was their friendship. He had dated girls she had never approved of, and she dated guys Adam would inevitably scare off. Hell, they hadn’t don’t anything to suggest that there was a chance that they would have ever shared anything more than the friendship they had forged. She hadn’t wanted to kiss him… not until now as he stood so close to her in her room, wearing that smile she had almost forgotten and very much a man now. 

“I could always count on you being there back then,” Adam sighed and Charlie's mouth went dry, “every tournament, every game. Hell, we almost had your mom convinced to move you out to Swift Current, you remember?”

“How could I forget?” She shook her head as she remembered the nonsense she had tried to feed her mother and the dramatic lengths the pair had gone to before it was made clear that it was far from a reality for them. “Still convinced them to drive me out to see you almost every weekend - but they got you all the way across the country now, don’t they hot shot?”

Reaching her hand out, Charlie shoved against Adam’s arm, a playful habit that returned all too quickly as did the comfort of being around him. 

“Oh, you’re already going to start back up with that shit, huh, Mini?” Adam laughed, a large hand reaching out to abandon his glass on the vanity. 

Hearing her old nickname slip from his lips so effortlessly left her mouth dry. No one called her that anymore - not since she hit her growth spurt - but Adam, he would forever tower taller than her. Charlie licked her lips slowly before taking another long sip of her drink before she set it down beside Adam’s. Her hands then found his chest, so strong beneath her touch, in a playful shove. One that Adam met with his own, earning a laugh from Charlie as she took one stumbled step back. It wasn’t enough to send her into a retreat. Instead, she had leaned in for another playful shove, but she wasn’t met by Adam’s playful roughhousing. No, Adam wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up with ease. 

When they were kids, she would have left out a laugh, or a groan of protest, but not, Charlie was reduced to silence. Her bedroom went blurry around her, and she could only see Adam and the grin on his face as he took careful strides toward her bed. She could feel each flex of his muscles as he held her so effortlessly, and there was no ignoring how naturally her legs had wrapped around his hips - and how his belt buckle grazed roughly over her jeans. The strength of his arms remained as they reached the bed, as  Adam didn’t release her to free fall down onto the mattress, instead, he was falling with her but she was left breathless all the same. 

Charlie did her best to hide the heave of her chest as she lay out on the bed, her dark hair fanned out beneath her and her sweater left wrinkled and bunched up her waist bearing just enough skin on her stomach to draw in Adam’s curious touch. She could feel his thumb drag over her exposed skin, his touch hesitant as if he shouldn’t be touching her there at all. Together they lay out on the bed in silence, Adam’s body hovering slightly over her own. Charlie could feel the heat of his body against her own and taste his breath with each inhale. It was an intoxicating combination. One that left her reaching down to her mattress and gripping at the covers in restraint. 

“Adam,” his name escaped her lips in a quivering breath, her warm eyes dragging over the softened features of his face. His jaw had slacked, and his thin lips parted as they were consumed by each of his steady breaths. Her gaze dragged over the angles of his jaw and up and over his cheekbones that had only seemed to sharpen as his youth left him. And his eyes were piercing as Charlie found them. His brazen stare was only obstructed by the shagged strands of his hair that hung down over his forehead and the intensity that consumed the blue of his eyes was unlike she had ever seen in him before - or maybe she just hadn’t been looking. 

Their gaze was locked, but it didn’t distract her from how his hand had left the skin of her stomach and dragged upward. Up and over the swell of her breast - that threatened to heave at just the slightest graze of his fingers tips. Those same fingertips danced over her collarbone - her neck stretching out almost instinctively, a heavy breath consuming Charlie as if to prepare for his fist to wrap around her throat - but his touch persisted. His touch didn’t stop until it had stroked over the angle of her jaw, and his thumb had found her quivering lower lip. 

“I’ve missed you, Charlie,” Adam sounded, his words a low groan as his thumb stroked her lip, leaving it almost numb, “fuck, you’re so…” Charlie watched as he licked his lips, trying to find the right word to say - and she didn’t care what he had to say. Not really - how could she when all she could think about was what his tongue would taste in her mouth? “...Beautiful.”

The word stung, just like the slap sixteen-year-old Charlie would have given him if she had even thought he was thinking something like that. But now, Charlie was very much consumed by his touch and his words held left her melting. 

“Adam, you shut your mouth before you say something stupid…” Charlie cautioned him slowly, his own voice weak as her lips dragged over the pad of his thumb. The graze left her shutter, her eyes shutting as she tried to force herself to ignore just how good it felt to feel his flesh in places he had never explored before. 

“Stupid? No,” Adam answered, and Charlie felt the bed shift oh so slightly. He was leaning in, his hot breath washing over her face now as his thumb tugged at the lower lobe of her lip, “I should have been telling you that a long time ago-”

Charlie scoffed, her eyes remaining closed as she parted her lips to speak again - too nervous to open them and see just how close to her he had become. If she had seen him so close, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. “Adam, how many drinks have you had?”

“You think I’m drunk?” his voice was laced with a laugh, one that left her own lips curling up into a grin. 

“Can you blame me?” It was only then that Charlie let her eyes blink open and she took in the sight of him. 

Adam was a mere breath away from her lips, his hair tickling her forehead as his eyes fell into slow, dreamy blinks. “Charlotte,” she hated when people called her by her full name, but in the moment, he had made it feel so intimate, “I really want to kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?” Charlie muttered, her lungs holding onto her breath as if he was going to steal it from her. 

“I’m only slightly worried that you may hit me if I tried,” his smile grew, and her own came to mirror his. 

“I’m not going to hit you, Ad-”

Before she could finish, he had stolen the last bit of air between them, his thumb leaving her lips to clear the way for his own lips.  His mouth met hers gently, cautiously, as if she may change her mind at any moment and raise a hand up to give him a good smack. Once upon a time, she would have. She would have pulled back with a gasp and her palm would have met his cheek with a sting because he was her best friend and she wasn’t going to risk that at sixteen. But now, her head was spinning, her body consumed by the mix of emotions that came with seeing him for the first time in three years. Excitement met longing and mixed with melancholy and it left her head spinning as his lips moved effortlessly against her own. Each motion drew her mouth open, adding depth and hunger to the first kiss they had shared. 

She reveled in the taste of sweet bourbon from his tongue as it met her own in a slow graze and it had brought such comfort that her hands eased from their rigid grasp on the covers. Her touch found the expanse of his back, her fingers wrinkling the thin-white fabric of his t-shirt as she left herself to feel his strength. It drew him in closer, Adam shifting in the slightest to hover fully over her form - never once breaking their kiss - and she could feel all of him. Her head was spinning, her thoughts gone as she was consumed by Adam and only Adam. 

Charlie was left groaning against his lips, her hands clutching him desperately, and her knees resting on each side of his hips as she lost all composure. She was pushing up from the bed, Adam giving her just enough room to seek out the hem of her knit sweater and he helped her draw it from her frame. It was then their lips were pulled from one another, both of them left gasping and eyes opening to meet in a desirous gaze. Adam stared at her, and Charlie stared back the only sound shared between them, desperate, panting gasps. If they continued, there would be no going back to how things were before, and they both knew it. But it didn’t stop them. 

Adam’s hands dropped her cable-knit sweater down on the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers before he reached back and took hold of the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He pulled it off in one swift movement, bearing the muscles of his toned chest and strong abs to her as he knelt between her thighs. 

Charlie let out an uneven sigh. She had seen him shirtless before, probably more times than she could count, but he had never looked like that. “Jesus, Adam,” she couldn’t contain herself, her hand reaching out to stroke down his chest without a single thought to how he was seeing her breasts in something other than a restrictive sports bra for the first time since puberty had finally decided to be kind. “What are they feeding you out there?”

Adam let out a low throaty chuckle as he arched over, placing his hand palm down on the mattress trapping Charlie beneath him against the bed. She watched as muscle she didn’t even know could exist flexed in his shoulder. Licking her lips, Charlie was near salivating at the sight of him as she pushed up onto her elbows to close the short distance between them and prevent Adam from having too much time to admire her soft, feminine body. His athleticism had never intimidated her until now. It was not his talent or his status, but his body that made her so instantaneously insecure. And she was sure he could feel it in the desperation of her kiss against his mouth and the angles of his jawline. 

Charlie could feel the vibrations of his groan against his own lips as Adam lowered himself down against her. He wasn’t heavy against her, but Charlie marveled at just how much of him she could feel. His chest was warm against the exposed skin of her breast, his friction sending the cups of her bra chaffing and making her nipples hard. Then there were his hips, which pressed down into her. It sent the cold metal of his belt buckle dragging over her skin and the pressure, paired with the strength of his thick, muscular thighs had her spreading her legs for him further. 

Her heels dug down into the plush mattress, her hips raising with the hope of grinding up against him only to meet the flesh of his abs. Charlie groaned against his lips, almost frustrated. Why did Adam have to be so damn tall? Usually, Adam towering almost an entire foot taller than her was an asset, but not when she was trying to be sexy. 

Leaning her head back she let it lull to the side, Adam’s hot lips dragging over the soft skin of her neck, and she used that leverage to reach her hand down between their bodies and didn’t stop until her careful touch grazed over the growing bulge of his cock as it tested the restraint of his jeans. Fingers traced up and down the thick outline, earning a low, quivering breath from parted lips. A breath that was laced with a subtle holy fuck that she did her best to play off as a moan. Adam was huge, in every way she could possibly imagine. From his height to his cock - Charlie swallowed hard - she was all the more intimate to take him now. 

“First time?” Adam muttered out against her skin, his tone only half teasing. 

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Charlie gawked up at him, her eyes going as large as a doe in the headlights as she mocked him, “Oh Adam, I’ve been waiting so long for you to take me with your giant cock. I’ve wanted you and only you for so long,” she let out two desperate heaves before she was muffling her laughter into the strength of his bicep. 

“Fuck off,” Adam laughed, his hands taking each side of her hips firmly before flipping over in the bed. He guided him on top of him effortlessly, her knees falling on each side of his hips so that she could feel him against her cunt the only thing between them was the thin layers of their clothes. 

Perched up on top of him, her cheeks flushed with color, her hands coming to brace against his chest as she began to roll her hips slowly. The friction left her biting her lip, her arousal already beginning to pool between her legs as she could feel his cock growing harder - and it even left Adam groaning with impatience. 

He was propped up against her pillow, his bright eyes fluttering as he reached a single hand out to stroke over her warm cheek. He stroked the heated flesh, his fingers reaching out to hold her dark tendrils away from her soft features as he spoke to her. “I may not be your first, Charlie,” his tone was low, sultry and it left her mouth dry and panties wet, “but have you taken a cock this big?”

She let her hips roll slowly dragging her cunt from what felt like his balls to tip, and she shuttered as her head shook slowly from side to side. And she watched as his smile grew, the touch of his thumb stroking against her cheek a little more tender now. 

“We can go slow,” he assured, his hips raising as his hand dropped. 

She couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that took her as the pressure of his cock tested the friction of her jeans as he sunk his hand into his pocket. He fished out his wallet, drawing out the fine leather before pulling out the foil that had been tucked away among a wad of cash in various, colorful, dollar amounts. 

“That’s not the same one that you stole from your dad’s bedside table in high school, is it?” She teased him gently, her smile splaying over her lips as she crawled off of him and to the bed at his side. 

“No, no,” Adam laughed before he put the foil in his mouth and held it there as she reached down to take care of his jeans and belt. It was as he pushed them down he muttered, “that one didn’t fit.”

“Oh fuck off, they stretch,” Charlie scoffed, her handing beginning to work on her own pants. 

Spitting the condom out on the bed, Adam smirked and pressed up onto his knees. “Okay, okay, correction,” he raised his hands up as if in surrender, “it didn’t fit comfortably.”

“That’s what I thought,” she chided as she pushed her pants down to her knees, only for Adam’s own hands to meet the fabric and pull them down the rest of the way. 

Charlie could feel every lazy drag of his fingers against her skin, his touch like the strike of a match leaving a blazing trail on her skin in its wake. It should have left her pulling away, but it only made Charlie want more. His touch silenced her teasing, his fingers dragging back up the smooth skin of her legs as she was rid of her jeans and was left in nothing but her underwear. If it had been anyone else Charlie would have been flooded with confidence, but with Adam, it might as well have been her first time. He knew her better than anyone, every story, every scar, every secret. But it was only being near-naked in front of him that she felt truly vulnerable.

His hands kept gliding up. Up over the ticklish curves of her knees. Up over imperfect, tiger-striped thighs. And to the thin, flimsy fabric of her panties that left an imprint of the seams against her hips. Adam looks up at her through his shaggy hair as two thick fingers hooked her panties around her hips - and she couldn’t breathe. Not while he was looking at her like that, silently asking her permission to keep going with the most curious and caring of glances. Her lips parted, but she found no words. Charlie could only nod. 

Adam bit down on his lip as he eased her panties away from her lips. Charlie watched as his jaw went slack, his gaze dropping to the sweet heat between her legs as it was exposed to him. “Oh, Charlie,” Adam let out a satisfied hum at the sight of how her arousal, and how it had soaked into her panties, “you’re so wet.” His words were almost as if he were in awe, but then his smile grew and his tone became teasing, “Did I do that?”

His teasing cut right through her nerves and brought a smile to her lips that lit up her features and brought her the confidence she so desperately needed. 

“You might have had something to do with it,” her head cocked to the side sending her dark curtain of curls over her shoulders and over her breasts as she reached back to free the, from the confines of her bra. 

Adam’s eyes went as wide at the sight of her soft, womanly body fully exposed to him. His smile didn’t fade, no, it grew wider as his teeth took hold of his lower lip almost shyly. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charlie muttered. Her words were a mere whisper as her arms crossed over her chest awkwardly in an attempt to cover her exposed breasts. 

Adam almost stuttered on his words, his cheeks flushing as he reached a hand out to gesture to her body, “you look, incredible Charlie. Absolutely, just, wow-”

“You're just saying that-”

“No, really,” Adam sighed, his hand reaching down and pushing down his boxers and abandoning them at the foot of the bed. She crawled up her childhood bed until he was seated against the pillow - his stiff cock laying out over the tone plains of his stomach threatening to draw all of her attention. It was there, propped up in the comfort of her bed, that he ripped open the foil and worked the thin latex over his cock with the strength of his well-worked hands. “Come ‘ere, Charlie.”

Silently, she obliged and crawled up the length of the bed and into his lap. Each of her knees found its place at each of his hips and her sweet, dripping cunt came to rest over his cock. Her stomach fluttered with the nerves of anticipation, her hips rolling oh so slightly so that she could feel the thick vein of his cock stroke against her clit. The pleasure burned through her body and coaxed a soft sound from Adam’s lips. One that lingered in his words as he spoke to her, “you’re fucking perfect.”

His hand reached out, stroking her dark hair back from her face, and back so that it cascaded down the length of her back. His hands then dragged down, Stroking at her eager neck and the angles of her shoulder and stopping at the impressive swells of her breast. Adam palmed at her supple flesh with his coarse hands, her chest consumed by desperate, heaving breaths at his touch - and he muttered out his sweet words, “so perfect…” Then, Adam was leaning in, his hair hanging down into his eyes as his mouth descended down. He placed slow, open-mouthed kisses over each breast. Kisses that warmed them with the heat of his mouth and were instantly cooled by the room’s tepid air. 

“Adam,” Charlie gasped out, her fingers finding his hair gripping just enough to ground herself but not enough to stop his movements as he sucked on one nipple, and the next, before his tongue dragged up from the valley between them to the sweet angles of her jaw. 

Adam raised a brow at her as he placed peppered kisses along her jaw, trialing his way to the corner of her mouth as he let out an inquisitive hum, “do you think you’re ready for me, Charlie?”

Nodding desperately, Charlie pressed up on her knees and gave Adam the room he needed to reach between them. She could feel his hot hand against the inside of her thigh as he took hold of his own cock, stroking it slowly as he drew it up to guide the very tip to her core - but it wasn’t without teasing her first. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down the fold of her cunt slowly, sending her arousal dripping down the latex and over his hand before he positioned himself at her core. 

“You don’t have to take it all,” he assured her gently, “it can be… a lot. So go slow, and we can stop if you need to. Okay, Charlie?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, her hand reaching out to brace herself against the strength of his shoulders, “yeah, okay.” She took two long blinks, trying to ease the spinning in her mind at the feeling of his cock between her legs. It all seemed like a dream, like the ones she would have as a teenager and would do all in her willpower to repress - because you weren’t supposed to think about your best friend like that. But it was the burning pleasure of slowly taking his cock into her eager cunt that reminded her that this was very much of a reality. 

Charlie took him slowly, inch by inch he spread her walls, and it left her cursing out under her breath in pleasure. “You’re taking me so well, Charlie,” came Adam’s encouraging coo, his hands having abandoned his own cock and found her hips to help carefully guide her as she rode his cock. With each rise and fall of her cunt around his cock, her head spun and she questioned just how much more of him there could possibly be. 

“Jesus Christ, Adam,” she near yelped, her head thrown back before she could bite down on her lip and stop herself. 

Adam hushed her gently, a single hand raising to stroke over her cheek. Charlie leaned into his touch as she panted, her lips parting and taking his thumb in her mouth without a thought in her head. She sucked on it slowly, earning a soft moan from Adam’s lips and it muffled her own as she eased down on him further and found the relief of his balls smacking against her ass. She had managed to take all of him. Smiling around his thumb, Charlie cast a glance down at Adam who was watching her with a dreamy gaze. 

“We’re going to have to find a way to keep you quiet, Charlie,” he beamed up at her and dragged his thumb from her lips and over her smooth cheek slowly. He cupped her face in her hand, his fingers knotted in her hair. “Because if your dad wasn’t going to kill me before, he sure as hell would want to kill me now-” 

“Don’t talk about my dad when you’re balls deep in my cunt, please,” Charlie begged, her skin ablaze and shimmering as she began to sweat. 

“Sorry, mood killer?”

“Just a bit,” Charlie gasped out as the tip of his cock pressed into her limits. She was so impossibly full of him, and it near had her legs trembling. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Adam spoke, his words almost charming as his hand gripped at her hip firmly, “just don’t make a sound.” 

His smile was wicked as he held her gaze and drew her in close to his body. With their bodies chest to chest, his cock buried to its absolute limit and her face tucked into his neck to muffle any sound that would threaten to spill from Charlie’s lips, Adam flipped them.

The plush mattress was welcome on Charlie’s back as she let out a soft yelp against the flesh of Adam’s throat. “Sorry,” she muttered softly, her smile blossoming and her lips dragging over his neck with every word, “I can’t help it - you feel so good.” 

Adam propped himself up with his elbows on each side of her head, his lips coming down to kiss her forehead with a slow lingering kiss - as he couldn’t quite reach her lips while he remained deep inside her cunt. His hot breath washed over her face with every exhale as he began to roll his hips, drawing his cock from her just enough to slide back inside her in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sent a burning pleasure through to her core, and a soft sound from parted lips. It was a moan that only threatened to grow louder as the pleasure grew. And when Charlie wound her short legs around Adam’s hips, she muffled her cries of pleasure in the strength of his shoulder and clung to him like he was her only source of gravity. 

Her eyes watered as she held onto him so desperately, her teeth grazing over his skin and the taste of him lingered on her tongue as she muffled her moans into his shoulder - and when he reached a hand back to grip at her thick thigh, holding it in place as he hit such a depth that sent his own eyes fluttering back with pleasure, her head lulled to the side and she forced to burry he gave into the flex of his bicep.

“Adam,” his name was a hymn on her tongue, her body shuddering as her climax threatened to overtake her - as he could feel its threat as her cunt began to pulse around him. 

His hand only left her leg to take hold of her chin, guiding her soft features took look up at his as they too melted with pleasure. His thumb stroked over her lips slowly, tugging at her lower lobe and drawing her sweet lips open to welcome his mouth. Charlie was consumed by Adam’s kiss - one that was unlike the one that had started it all. There was no caution, no that had all been abandoned now. His kiss was one with purpose. One that stole her desperate breath from her breast and flooded her with emotion. It struck her like a slap to the face, leaving her gasping against his lips and her head spinning. 

Not once had she ever been kissed the way Adam had kissed her, and it left her trembling as her core clenched around him. The grip of her was enough to draw him to his release. He lost all control, every thought of gentle caution seemingly lost as Adam pounded into her with a series of forceful thrusts. Then, with his cock buried deep inside her and sweat dripping down the angles of his face and body, Adam stilled. 

Faces mere inches apart, only panting could be heard. Eyes brown and blue were caught between open and fluttering shut as their bodies only began to calm. While Charlie crazed to continue to be close to Adam, the wrap of her legs around his waist loosened, her feet sliding down to the bed with a quiet thud. And she reached up both hands slowly to stroke his sweat-drenched strands from his face. Charlie watched as his eyes fluttered and his lips parted as he let out every heavy exhale that was laced with the whisper of her name on his tongue. And she relished in it, her own name echoing in her euphoria dazed mine until Adam’s words drew her back into reality. 

“What time is it?” his words were a soft whisper as he remained hovering over her and his cock still buried deep in her cunt. 

Charlie’s head lulled to the side, taking in the glow of her old digital clock. “Late,” she answered him simply, “people would have started to go home already… Your parents, were they staying the night in the guest room?” Her words were slow, hesitant even as she silently recollected the many times he had spent the night in her room when they were children. When they were too young for their parents to care, they had shared the bed, or even a tent out in the backyard in the summertime - but as they had grown older, her father more concerned about a teenager's urges, Adam had slept on the floor beside her bed. She remembered waking up with her hand reaching down over the edge of the bed to his hand even more fondly now. 

“No,” Adam hung his head, “we were going to cab home, my flight leaves early in the morning.”

Her heart fell, and her stomach twisted into knots. Of course, he would have to leave. They would need him back before their next game, and they kept a tight schedule - she was lucky to have gotten to see him at all. There was no easing how sick knowing she was going to have to say goodbye to him before the night was through made her. Not even the thrill of seeing him again, nor the euphoria of her climax could put it at ease. 

Charlie forced a smile, trying so desperately to hide the dread that consumed her. “We should probably get dressed before someone comes looking for you.”

“Your dad would really kill me then, huh?” Adam half laughed as he pushed up with whatever strength he had left as eased his cock from her core. 

She near whined as she was left void of him, her legs coming together firmly as she shifted to the edge of her bed. She bit down on her lip as she fought to find her composure, and when she spoke her tone with low but she carried her smile into her voice, “Your teammates would really miss you if you died over something so menial-”

“Ouch,” Adam hissed, his hand coming up to rest over his heart as if he had been stabbed through it, “menial? That’s how bad it was?”

“Adam I-” Charlie found herself stumbling over her words as she pulled a loose t-shirt down over her naked body - the Swift Current Broncos logo resting right over her chest, “you know that’s not what I meant…”

“I know,” Adam grinned his tone teasing as he discarded the used condom into the waste basket by her bed and moved to step into his boxers, “I’m just teasing you Charlie - and like, I mean,” he rambled as he tried to choose his words carefully, “you enjoyed yourself?”

“Well,” Charlie’s tone was teasing as she found his t-shirt, took it in her hand, and held it out to Adam casually, “you were right about being the biggest-”

“Oh, you’re just cruel, Charlie!” Adam laughed out so loud that she was sure that someone would have heard it downstairs. He continued to laugh as he stepped forward, his one hand pushing his shirt away while the other reached out for her. Soon, Adam had her in his arms again and hoisted her up so that he was holding her near and her legs could wrap around his middle. “Lie to me at least,” he playfully begged her as his hands kneaded at the soft flesh of her thighs, “tell me it’s all you’ve ever dreamed.”

Charlie shook her head slowly, her forehead coming down to rest against his carefully as she deadpanned, “worst I’ve ever had.” And then she snickered, her lips curling up into a smile to match Adams. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved that you’re the worst liar I know,” Adam sighed in relief, “because I don’t think I have the time to prove to you just how good I can be…”

“Another time, hot shot,” Charlie hummed, leaning back just enough to peer around him and to the door when she heard footsteps pass in the hall, “I think we’ve pushed our luck long enough.”

Adam lowered her to the ground before his hands abandoned her body for the soft fabric of his t-shirt - but the ghost of his touch remained on his skin and between her legs even. It was a feeling that Charlie was sure would be difficult to forget - even if it all came to feel like nothing more like a dream in the morning. 

The pair dressed in silence, nothing shared between them except lingering glances and soft smiles as more and more skin was covered. It was only in that silence that Charlie could hear that the Christmas carols that had consumed the home had gone quiet and there was nothing more to be heard from downstairs than their father’s laughter.

“You should go down first,” Charlie decided as she reached for her robe and leaned back against the pale floral wallpaper that decorated her wall, “dad will ask too many questions if I come down already changed into my pajamas…” 

“Yeah, right, good idea,” Adam stuttered, his hand carding through his own hair, “so I guess, this is where I should give you a proper goodbye, huh? Because I don’t think you’re dad would like me kissing you at the front door…”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charlie nodded slowly and swallowed hard - though, she would be much more worried about what their mothers would do if they had found out. She was already sure that they had been planning their wedding since they were five. “Don’t be a stranger Adam…”

“Just pick up the phone when I call Charlie,” Adam hummed, his tone almost dreamy as his hand came up to cup her cheek. Then he leaned in, placing a soft, warm kiss on her lips - one that would linger long after he left. 

“I’ll pick up, promise.”

“That’s my girl,” Adam praised, but when he pulled back he was wearing a solemn look. 

He hated goodbyes. 

And so did she. 

“Merry Christmas, Charlie,” was Adam’s final goodbye in the privacy of her bedroom, his thumb dragging over the skin of her cheek and neck before she was left completely void of his touch, “you were by far the best gift I got to unwrap this year.”

Her cheeks flushed red hot with color as she stepped back from the door. She hid just out of sight of anyone waiting just on the other side of the door. “Merry Christmas, Adam,” she spoke, her head leaning against the wall. It was from there that she watched him open up the door - his features falling into relief when he found that their parents were still very much entertained with each other’s company downstairs. He glanced back with a grin, one that silently screamed: SUCCESS, before he reached back and shut the door back into its place in the frame. Charlie didn’t move an inch, not even as she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs just on the other side of the wall. There was nothing comforting about the sound of him leaving. Not when she so desperately wanted him to stay. Saying goodbye was something that had never been easy for them, not even as children - one of them had always cried. And now, they had made things a whole lot harder by blurring the lines between friendship and something more. 

Act 2. 

The warmth of the ski lodge was a welcome after a day spent out on the slopes. Charlotte’s body ached in all the worst places, but no one would have been able to guess it. Not with how she carried herself so well in a pair of heels and her short, yet elegant slip dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Her hair was left down in long, cascading curls, and her makeup was just enough to hide the sunburn. Charlotte and her best friend had escaped to the mountains for the holidays, the chalet was brought to life for the last big party of the year and she had let herself be consumed by it. By the music, and by the drink, hell, even the unwanted attention from guys, she thrived on it for it was all that could keep her mind from wandering to last Christmas. 

Last Christmas, seemed both like a century ago but also only yesterday in Charlotte’s mind. She could still so clearly remember the excitement of seeing Adam for the first time, and the sting of heartache as the days of the new year passed. They had tried to keep in touch, they really had - but with the time zones, and their busy schedules, it had led to an inevitable silence. She had to focus on her courses, and Adam got called up to the NHL, becoming the hot shot she had always told him he would be. Charlotte knew she should have known better. That she should have been prepared for ever the outcome, but it didn’t take away the ache in her chest that came with giving herself fully to Adam. 

Charlotte didn’t blame him, how could she? They both knew the risks, but that didn’t mean she wanted to risk seeing him again by going home for the holiday. It was too soon, it would only rip open the wound in her heart time was still trying so desperately to turn into a scar. A wound that was ripped open the moment she looked up from her drink and towards the bar when she heard the nickname she had tried to abandon echo in her mind like the beckoning of a ghost in the crowded room. 

“Charlie, I thought that was you!” Adam was pushing through the crowd that had formed around the table, dressed casually in a nice pair of blue jeans and a half-tucked button-down. He looked just as he had a year ago, the same face that had been burned into the back of her mind at the peak of her pleasure, save for the scruff that peppered his chin and jawline. Charlotte might have even thought it looked good on him if it hadn’t felt like someone had poured the salt from her margarita into an open wound - if she hadn’t felt like she was on the verge of throwing up. 

“Charlie?” one of her friends piped up, their brows furrowed. 

“A childhood nickname,” Charlotte rolled her eyes as her lips couldn’t find her drink fast enough. Her glass was near empty by the time Adam had reached the table, her face putting on a fake smile as she looked at her friend with eyes that looked as if they had been encased in candied sugar as they were consumed by the threat of tears. “This is Adam, we grew up together.”

Her friend didn’t need to hear much more than that. From the excitement of seeing him again to the pain of getting just sort of ghosted, she knew it all and it drew her face into a knot that she struggled to hide. “Oh, yeah, the hockey star,” her friend's words were like sweet venom that would kill you before you knew the poison you were drinking. 

“What are you doing here?” Charlotte’s voice almost broke as she shifted in her seat, her fist grasping at her empty glass desperately, “I thought you would spend the holiday back in Winnipeg with that tough schedule they keep you on-”

It was a casual jab at one of the many excuses he had used to explain his silence. Sorry I couldn’t text you I had a game… I had practice… I won’t be coming home for the summer, I’ve got training… They had all been just words on a screen then, his career too much for even a conversation with her then, but somehow, he had the time to celebrate the new year in Banff. It made her stomach sick. 

“Caught a trip out with some of the guys,” he nodded back towards the bar where a group of guys had gathered, some missing teeth, others bruised and banged up from their last games before their few days off, “we fly back out tomorrow, you should come to meet them-” 

Her heart was pounding like drums in her ears, her mouth falling open as she let out a steady, frustrated huff. How could he be acting so casually, so calmly? As if nothing had ever happened between them at all. Did he ever care about her at all? The thought hit her like an avalanche, sending a single glistening tear down her cheek as she abandoned her glass and pushed it up from the table. 

“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage, her voice broken as she let her eyes drop to the floor and she began to push her way through the crowded room. 

Charlotte didn’t look back when she heard Adam call after her, and persisted through the crowd as she hoped that she would lose her in it. She was small enough, she could slip out of just about any room unnoticed, but Adam he towered over almost everyone in any room. He could use that to his advantage - so Charlie didn’t stop until she was in the foyer of the chalet, where the music was almost reduced to silence and the view of the mountains in the distance could be seen out its grandiose windows. 

She let the way the silver mood beamed down onto the slopes calm her. The sight brought a semblance of peace as the ache in her heart raged on. A peace that was lost when the echo of heavy footsteps took the foyer, and Adam’s voice pierced the air, his annoyance clear, “Dammit Charlie, what was all of that about?”

Charlotte doesn’t look at him, she doesn’t even want to listen to him as she’s standing in front of the window - the winter’s chill sending goosebumps as it permeated the window’s failing seal - with her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze locked on the mountain tops. She could feel the burn of tears as they trailed down her cheeks, tears that she tried to hide from him as he approached. 

Adam came to sand on her left, his towering frame leaning against the cold glass of the window. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, his figure only slightly distorted by the tears that built up along her lashes and smudged her mascara. 

“You should go back to the party, Adam,” she had tried to tell him firmly, but her words broke as soon as she said his name. 

He didn’t make an effort to leave, it was going to take a lot more to get rid of him than that and it left Charlotte’s stomach in knots - and it was left near lurching as she felt the warmth of his hand encroach on the expanse of her back in a careful touch. 

“Adam, don’t-” she wanted to bite out, but her words were a pathetic mewl instead as her head spiraled. Oh, how good it felt to be reminded of how it felt to be touched by him. 

His touch lingered, his fingers slipping around her waist just enough to carefully turn her to face him. She was sure he could see it all now. The tears. Her tired frown. The pain that was coming to love him and knowing that she would never be loved by him the way she needed from him. It could all be seen in the sad glimmer of her eyes. 

“Oh, Charlie,” Adam sighed, his face falling, softening at the pain that was painted across her beautiful features. 

“Don’t patronize me-”

Her words were cut short as the embrace of his hand came to warm her cheek, leaving her lips parted as she let out an unsteady breath. His touch was careful, and tender, as it wiped away the tears that strained her cheek. And she wanted so desperately to lean into that touch. To embrace its comfort and let it consume her as she had let it last Christmas. 

“Adam, don’t,” her whisper was breathy, her head turning and eyes shutting as she felt the gentle guidance of his hand as Adam tried to draw him into her. 

Charlotte desperately wanted to give in - it would feel so good to give in to him. To let him make it feel like everything was going to be alright. That their relationship would always be more than that of childhood friends, but it would be a comfort built on falsehoods. She wasn’t going to let herself get built back up only to be left in shambles again. 

Raising a hand, Charlotte took hold of his carefully, guiding it to her lips and placing a kiss on his palm slowly. Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled the subtle scent of his cologne, and left the warmth of his skin lingering for but a moment during her tender gesture. Then, she guided his hand back to his side, and her warm eyes met his gaze. Adam held a sadness in his eyes, one that told her that she didn’t need to speak a single word to him to explain anything. He knew the sadness she felt - and maybe he felt it too. 

“It’s been really nice seeing you Adam,” Charlotte's words were broken as she spoke, a genuine smile taking her lips for the first time, “but I can’t be doing this, not again…” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before her fingers slip from his like silk. 

Adam gave her a slow nod, the hand that had overtaken her back with the warm comfort of his touch leaving her void. Her chest ached as they held their gaze, the space between them growing as she took a careful step back. The air between them was suffocating, and it left Charlotte’s heart feeling tight in her chest.

It felt like a goodbye. A farewell to her childhood, to their friendship, and to any hope that either of them had that they would be able to sustain any kind of relationship into their adulthood. But life had taken them in separate directions. Adam with his career in Winnipeg - or anywhere else he could end up if he were to ever be traded away - and with Charlotte remaining close to her family and putting down her own roots in Calgary, there would always be too much of a divide. Too many obstacles to truly make something worse when they were both still so young and had so much more of their lives that were unknown just waiting to be uncovered. 

And so she left him standing in the foyer and made the walk back into the party alone. The ghost of his touch lingered as the music consumed her, her eyes growing bright as they fell on her friends that welcomed her back with smiles of their own. Smiles that almost eased the pain in her aching heart. It was a pain that told her that her love for Adam would never fade, and would go unforgotten. But with that pain, she could finally move on. 

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

A Beautiful Mind

Title: A Beautiful Mind

Summary: You had begged Kol not to put you to sleep. You had told him of the sights that haunted your nightmares - red lights and black water. He never could have guessed that the safest place for you would turn out to be the most dangerous. Three Doors Down - Part Three || Kol x Disabled!reader || Here are parts one and two || Here lies my Masterlist

Word Count: 10,000

Warnings: Fear of drowning, talk about death, violence, blood. Oh, also a weird as all frick dream sequence - it's not supposed to make sense, just keep that in mind.

A/N: Fun Fact, this fic originally started as a self-insert because I actually live with hearing loss and speech aphasia. So to everyone who has been supportive of this mini-series, I just wanted to say thank you. Enjoy this finale, I hope it lives up to expectations.

Checking his watch for what was surely the millionth time that day, Kol tore his hands through his hair, cursing under his breath as he leaned his head back against the wall of his broom-closet prison. Waiting was torture; each minute felt like an eternity and the space wasn't even big enough for him to stretch his legs out all the way. He was so hungry. Bloody hell! He was starving! There were so many warm bodies in the rooms surrounding him. Oh, what he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into just one - any of them would do, yet there was a certain one he couldn't seem to take his mind off of. Try as he might, she was all Kol could think about. Y/N. Her dry wit, her dazzling smile, her quiet strength, her captivating eyes, her perfect lips, her soft skin… her blood. 

Warm and thick and-

No! 

Stop. Don't go there.

Kol groaned, drawing his knees up to his chest in a vain effort to relieve just a fraction of the excruciating pain in his stomach. He couldn't stop thinking about her, no matter what he tried. Where was Y/N by now? Probably in Mystic Falls already. The thought pained him - she shouldn't be anywhere near that wretched town. She should have been with him. 

He didn't care if it made him weak, Kol wanted her back. He just wanted her back, safe and sound. He just wanted to have her back so he could make her laugh and smile in that adorable way that made him want to smile too. He wanted to hold her, and kiss her, and feel her, and… and… He wanted to listen to her heart race and he wanted to bury his teeth into her tender flesh. She'd been so good the first time, she hadn't fought him and she'd tasted divine. The memory made his mouth water. Her blood - hot and thick and sweet like candy. He'd stopped too soon, far too soon. He should have had more when he had the chance. Bloody hell, he could still taste her on his tongue. Sweet. So sweet. Sweet like candy…

NO! 

STOP IT! 

STOP!

NOT HER!

He didn't want that, he didn't want to think about her that way. Kol didn't want to hurt her! Because that girl was a lot like him - she had lost parts of herself, things she could never get back. Just like him. Except Kol hadn't had anyone to take comfort in. So for Y/N, he wanted to be the person he'd never had - his way of flipping off the cosmos, perhaps. 

And why shouldn't he? After all that had been stolen from him, after all the injustices and pointless suffering, the universe owed him this much. Cliche as it sounded, Y/N was a light in the dark, radiating joy and enthusiasm like a fire gives off heat. She didn't care about his looks or his charm. He didn't have to do anything to be of worth - just being himself was enough for her. The attention she gave him was free of ulterior motives, and like a starved child, he wanted it all to himself. He didn't mean to be possessive and he would never do anything to harm or disrespect that girl, or keep her from happiness. He adored her! But that was the problem. Kol just didn't know how to let go. One thousand years had been so long, and he'd been so alone. He deserved someone like Y/N. Yet the universe in its infinite cruelty still sought to take her away.

It wasn't fair!

That was why he'd bitten her. 

He hadn't wanted to hurt her, but the alternative was worse. If he hadn't done something drastic, she would have gone back to her life in Denver. The thought of Y/N living her life without him? The chance she might one day fall in love with someone else? He couldn't stand it. He hadn't even known her that long - hardly a week but every day of that week, she had knocked on his door and greeted him with a smile and a hug to say good morning. How could he give that up?

Kol had fed on her because he wanted to keep her. He thought about her because he was worried and he missed her. But the monster under his skin couldn't tell the difference, and it didn't really care to. It just kept torturing him with memories of her blood on his tongue. 

Kol checked his watch and cursed.

All that for eight bloody minutes.

He had to give it to the Gilbert siblings, they were nothing if not persistent and, unfortunately, they weren't entirely brainless. According to the elder Salvatore's gloating, they had gotten their Bennet witch to temporarily deactivate his daylight ring - a feat he would have been impressed by had he not already spent nine and a half hours trapped in a closet because of it. (For all that witch lacked in skill and knowledge, she made up for it in raw power.) Eight floors worth of windowed hallways stood between him and the building's exit. He could get out if he tried and he would survive the journey, but it would be excruciating and ultimately pointless as his car did not have specially treated windows and attempting to drive whilst he burned alive wasn't exactly feasible.

Now, Kol was well aware that despite appearances, Y/N was far from helpless - she'd proven that much. However, she wouldn't be able to hold her own against Niklaus. By taking their cousin to Mystic Falls, the Gilberts might as well simply hand-deliver Y/N right into Klaus' hands. If Kol's brother realized how he could use that girl… Kol didn't even want to imagine what the hybrid would do.

Klaus would hurt her.

Kol didn't want to see Y/N hurt.

Bloody hell, he felt awful. He'd promised to protect her and he'd failed spectacularly. Y/N was probably terrified. Kol wished he could help her. He wished he could just see her, but he couldn't!

Unless he could…

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resting his head against the wall. Calming his mind was difficult, it always had been for him; thoughts tended to race through his mind like gale-force winds and that was on a good day. Now his psyche was plagued with images he'd rather not see, predictions of a future he could only pray he had the power to stop - that frail, bubbly girl sprawled on the ground, drained of the life she gave so freely, and the ground around her stained red, red, red. The worst part was knowing he might be the one to make her that way. He was so hungry.

Kol dragged his hands through his hair and let loose a string of curses. He needed to find her, but to do so required him to focus on the present and at the moment he could do anything but. Perhaps this was how Y/N often felt, reaching for something she knew she possessed, yet always coming up short. That was when she'd start doing all those adorable nervous ticks he loved so much. Kol pictured her - the way she'd snap her fingers and bounce on her toes, biting her lip just right and every time she did so it made him want to kiss her senseless. That thought made him smile and he caught hold of it. Pushing away the fear and hunger, he leaned his head back and reached out, letting that radiant vision guide him to the girl he'd come to adore.

"Alright, darling," He muttered. "Where are you?"

Y/N was dreaming. Her magnificent light was easy to distinguish; the way her cognizance flickered and danced, out of sync with the other mortal minds populating the world, was beautiful. It was something he'd never seen before, yet more familiar to him somehow than he'd thought possible. Kol focused on that light, let it envelop him in an embrace that felt as warm and genuine as the girl it came from, and then he was falling backward into a dream that wasn't his. 

He saw black at first and started walking, his hand soon meeting a wall which he used to guide himself down what he quickly discovered to be a hallway of some kind. The gentle notes of piano chords could be heard playing from somewhere ahead of him and he moved along the hall towards the sound. A dim light flickered to life over his head, barely illuminating the few feet in front of him - the rest of the hall remained black as pitch. Kol glanced up to watch as the light wavered and changed, the dull glow began to oscillate between colors. 

Red to blue. 

Then white.

To red.

To blue.

To red.

To blue.

Then white.

Then red.

The colors continued to shift and Kol frowned. He remembered Y/N had said something about lights as he'd compelled her to sleep. She'd begged him not to, mumbling some gibberish about red lights and black water. What had she meant by that? What made it important enough to mention in her last moments of wakefulness? Kol didn't know, and he hated not knowing. 

Although, now that there was some light to be had, Kol noticed that there were doorways lining each side of the corridor - a mental maze of sorts - except this one was different than any he'd traversed before. In Y/N's mind, the doors did not stay put. He watched as these gateways to her memories faded in and out of existence, seemingly at random.

He grimaced. Whatever happened next was bound to be interesting.

"Y/N!" He raised his voice and shouted down the corridor. "YN, it's me - it's Kol! Can you hear me?" 

There was no response - just more piano notes sounding from the dark expanse ahead of him. It seemed forward was the only stable direction he could go, so he started moving and the light moved with him, maintaining its position over his head. 

After what seemed like hours of walking, Kol arrived at the hallway's end. A simple dark green door, the same as the one she'd resided behind in Denver - three doors down from his - stood in front of him. The chords of a piano drifted from beyond it, louder and stronger now that he was so close. 

Kol paused. Should he knock? Before he could decide, he was stopped by the sound of an unfamiliar voice intertwining with the music emanating from behind the door. 

"Y/N, dinner's ready!"

The warmth was what startled him. The warmth and the love that he could feel radiating from the memory just beyond that door was baffling. It was something entirely mundane - as ordinary and as common as grass - but the sound made Kol smile because it was something he'd never really had. 

"Y/N/N? You gonna come down? It's time to eat, sweetheart!"

That voice could only belong to a mother - one who loved her child with all her heart and soul - and just for a moment, Kol let himself bask in the sound.

He moved to touch the door's handle and a blinding light erupted in front of him, engulfing his senses in white. The next moment, Kol stumbled forward into what must have been a teenage Y/N's bedroom.

The setup was nothing extraordinary. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand - just the basics. The only feature truly of note was the antique piano and the girl sitting in front of it. Once again, her beauty stunned him. Those perfectly sweet, kissable lips, that small but tempting figure, and those wide, vulnerable eyes - so open and genuine - that made him want to hold her tight and never let go. Especially now, when those eyes were filled with sorrow and tears. 

Her fingers expertly stroked the piano's old yet well-kept keys, turning out a blissful, dream-like melody, though her face displayed an altogether different set of emotions. Kol could read the desperate frustration in her clenched and grinding teeth and the dreadful sorrow in the line of her brow and the glistening in her eyes.

"Y/N? Are you alright up there?" 

The piano music stopped and Y/N began to cry. The sight tugged at Kol's heart - to see someone he knew was so much stronger than she looked break down in tears was heart wrenching. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how. Emotions were messy things and he'd never been very good at handling his own, let alone anyone else's, but for Y/N he was willing to try. He moved with a certain degree of caution over to the piano and sat down on the bench beside her. The girl's tears were quiet little things - not the kind she would want to share much about but he could try anyway. He tapped his fingers against his knees, unsure of what to say.

"Why are you crying?" He asked gently, hoping his mere presence wouldn't frighten her. The girl straightened and wiped her tears but didn't turn to him.

"Had a… had-had a, um… a bad day." She shrugged. Her voice held little emotion. "Lots of yesterday-ays ago. O-okay now… all g-one."

Reliving an old memory wasn't uncommon, he supposed. Although, most people he'd dream walked with weren't aware they were dreaming until they woke up. Perhaps lucid dreams were another side effect of Y/N's strange mind. 

"I see." He nodded. "Hello, Y/N."

She smiled slightly and hummed in return. She didn't seem to be in the talking mood and that only made this harder. Kol tentatively touched her hand - he just wanted her to look at him but she didn't. She just tugged on his hand and placed it on her thigh so she could play with his rings, slipping them off to examine each one. It was almost painful to watch her, not knowing what she was thinking and she wouldn't talk to him - for the love of Thor - she wouldn't even look at him! He had a thousand things he wanted to say but none of them were helpful.

"So… what about now? Are you alright?" It was pathetic, but it was the best he could come up with.

She shook her head.

Kol's eyes darkened. "Did they hurt you?" He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

She shook her head again and he relaxed a little.

"Do you…" He hesitated. "- want to talk about it? Believe it or not, I actually have some experience with being rendered unconscious by members of my family." That actually got a reaction out of her.

Y/N's hands stilled and she turned her head slowly to stare at him. "What the hell?" She mouthed silently. Her expression was a perfect picture of baffled confusion and it took quite a bit of willpower on his part not to laugh. Though he couldn't refrain from cracking a smile. 

He shrugged. "I have weird siblings. What can I say?" He would tell her the disturbing truth later. For now, he made light of it. The corners of Y/N's lips twitched up, trying to smile while the rest of her expression turned even more bewildered. 

"That-that's not-" She stammered, at a loss for words. Kol placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

"This isn't a laughing matter, darling. My family takes the game of croquet very seriously!" Humor as medicine was an excellent strategy and his appeared to be working. Y/N snickered, rolling her eyes. "Ah, ah! What did I say about laughing?" He playfully chastised.

"Mm-mm -" She hummed, shaking her head as she fought to keep the grin off her face. "- I-I-I not… I'm not laugh-aughing."

"Really?" He smirked. "What's this then?" Kol poked her in the ribs and Y/N jumped, letting go of a little squeal. "What was that?" He poked her again in a slightly different spot and she twisted, grinning. "What was that, Y/N? Was that a giggle?"

Upon realizing his new plan, her eyes flew wide and she slapped his hand away. "Uh, uh! Nope!" She held up a finger as if as a warning.

"Are you sure?" He drawled, squeezing her thigh. She pushed that hand away too and shifted away from him.

"Uh, huh. Yeah." She nodded. Kol sighed, shrugging - letting her believe she'd won. 

"Nah, I don't believe you."

He poked at her again and Y/N giggled as she jumped back in an attempt to dodge his assault. She very nearly fell off the bench, but caught herself at the last second and stood, backing away from him with a smile on her face. Kol grinned and followed, shifting into a predatory stance. Y/N tried to out maneuver him but it wasn't long before he had her backing into a corner.

"Don-don't tickle!" She said, matching his steps. 

"Surrender and I won't have to," He replied, smirking down at her. He had her fully backed into the corner, trapping her there with an arm on either side of her head. 

"Mmm-mm!" She shook her head, keeping her lips sealed to stay her laughter.

Kol sighed, overdramatic. "Then you leave me no choice but to force you." Y/N snickered and ducked under his arm but he turned swiftly and caught her by the waist, picking her up as if she weighed little more than a feather. In a blink, he'd tossed her onto the bed and climbed over her, attacking her sides without mercy. Y/N squealed with laughter as he found her sweet-spot, she giggled and squirmed but couldn't escape. The sound of her laughter was the most joyful thing Kol had ever heard. "Being adorable won't save you, darling. You have to say it!" He declared.

"I-I sur-sur- ACK! No! No, wait! I sur-ur-en… surred-der!" She cried.

Kol grinned and moved off her, making himself comfortable on the bed as he watched her catch her breath.

"Uh, F- uh… F- you," She grumbled.

"Please," He hummed, grinning cheekily. The girl rolled her eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed, catching her hand before she could pull it back and tangling their fingers together.

"In- in your d-dreaming," She chuckled.

"Yours, actually," He pointed out.

Y/N sent him a look. "No."

"I'm just saying-"

"Kol…"

"Why not? It'll pass the time! I've still got another six hours till the sun goes down and I can get out of this closet, and who knows how long it will be until you wake up," He reasoned. Y/N just snorted, shaking her head. "You really should be more open to new experiences, darling. Didn't your parents ever teach you that?" 

He turned to watch her with a proud grin, his obnoxious attitude having won a full-on laugh from the girl. She closed her eyes and shifted closer. Her cheeks were tinged with pink and it was then that he remembered just how hungry he was. It wasn't his fault. Her flushed cheeks just looked so appetizing, even in a dream, and her heartbeat pounded deliciously in his ears. His smile faded and his eyes drifted to the artery pulsing in her neck.

"Ko-l?" 

"Hmm?" He forced himself to tear his eyes away - to look at her. 

Y/N was watching him with caution, one brow raised. "You okay-ay?" She asked. She was an observant girl. He really needed to learn how to keep his hunger in check. Before now, he'd never had a reason to.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He replied, forcing a smile. 

She saw right through him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Hungry?" 

Kol nodded, unable to meet her eyes. He wasn't ashamed of what he was - not anymore. He was ashamed that he allowed her blood to tempt him. He was 1,000 years old, he should have been better than this. "I'm sorry. It's just been a while since I… Well, since I had anything to eat, and let's just say I've never been the best at curbing my appetite," He admitted. She deserved the truth. His truth wasn't pretty.

Y/N blinked. "O-oh…" She cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to the ceiling.

And now he'd freaked her out, good on him.

"B-but this is a dream," He quickly added, trying to reassure Y/N somewhat. "I can't hurt you in here, not really. You're safe."

The girl nodded slowly but her lips remained pressed together and her eyes stayed fixed overhead. 

He sat up a little, looking over her with concern. "Darling?" He tried. She turned her head, refusing to look at him. A flash of something painful ripped through his heart and he touched her arm. "Wait, Y/N/N. Please don't do that. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise you're safe, I promise I won't do anything… I-I'm not a monster. I-I promise."

She turned back, looking up at him with those stunning E/C eyes. "Ca-an you?" She whispered. 

"Can I… what?"

"Pr-prom-omise that," She said. "Keep it?" 

He wanted to answer yes, immediately and without a doubt, but the truth was he didn't really know. All Kol knew was that he needed her in his life and that he'd be willing to do almost anything to keep her in it. This sensation he felt when he looked at her wasn't something he knew how to deal with - it felt a little bit like the hunger he was so familiar with, but it wasn't painful. She looked so beautiful from this angle, with her hair all spread out around her head, like a haloed angel. He couldn't help but think back to two nights before - the life in her eyes, how she had felt beneath him, so soft and warm. He craved her presence in every moment and he knew that it was selfish, selfish, selfish. Kol had never tried to control himself before and it was a lot harder than he'd thought anything could be. It was selfish of him to put her in that sort of danger, but he just couldn't help it. He needed her. So he would try his best to keep her safe, especially from himself.

"Anything for you," He murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He couldn't resist leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. He loved the way she smiled. 

Her eyes left his and she reached up to play with his necklace - nothing special, just a stone with a few sigils carved into it attached to a black cord. He'd made the thing when he was human… so maybe it was a little special. 

"Does it… being, uh… being… being here? No, not-not that one… Um… being, um…" She snapped her fingers. Kol had no idea what she was trying to say so he stayed silent, watching her bite her lip and wishing she would let him do that for her. "Does… Does being, uh… close! Yeah, close! Does being close… close t-to me  w-when, uh, when you're hun-hungry… does it hur-rt?"

The girl had been kidnapped twice in thirty six hours and she was still worried about him. What an angel. He smiled softly, stroking her cheek.

"A little bit," Kol admitted. "But you're worth it, and I'll be okay." He laid back down - looking down on her like that was just too tempting. "What about you?" He wondered, changing the subject. "You have been handling all this remarkably well."

The girl nodded, shrugging. "S-scared and lot-lots of wor-ords," She said. "But okay."

He raised a brow. "You mean questions?"

"Uh, huh. Yeah."

"Well, go ahead and ask, darling. We've got plenty of time." He grinned.

"Quest-estion one-" She started. "What the hell?"

Kol barked a laugh. "Understandable. Would you like to hear what the hell from the beginning or just the reader's digest?"

"A-all the hell," She deadpanned.

"Are you sure? That's quite the long story, love," He warned, grimacing slightly.

Y/N raised a brow. "How, uh… how-how many y-years?"

"How old am I?" He clarified. She nodded. "I'm nearly one thousand years old." Her eyes flew wide. "Although, physically I'm eighteen," He added quickly.

"Huh…" That was all she had to say.

"That doesn't upset you, does it?" He asked hopefully, taking her hand in his and stroking his thumb over the back of it to calm her.

She swallowed thickly and blinked, shaking her head. "I'm-I'm good."

"Still want to hear the whole story?"

She nodded. "Lis-listen-ening."

Kol sighed. "Better get comfy then, this'll take awhile."

The girl snickered and sat up, reaching over him to grab something - a stuffed Y/F/A plush - before settling with her head resting on his chest. She never ceased to surprise him.

Kol couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Hesitantly, he slipped his arm around her back. "Is this alright?" 

She huffed a laugh and grabbed his other hand, placing it on her waist. Well, if she was okay with it… He tugged her closer and shifted her body so she was practically on top of him. She was warm. He missed being warm.

"Get-get on with, uh, with it," She joked, smiling.

"Alright, alright! Someone's pushy," He grumbled playfully. "I will warn you though, the Chronicles of Baby-Kol are, uh… well, they're a bit of a tear-jerker, so be ready."

"Okay."

Kol took a deep breath, and then he told her everything.

***

Alright, so 'what the hell' from beginning to end turned out to be a lot more than you had thought, but you listened to every word and tried your best to understand. First, he decided to tell you about the curse on his brother. He told you of your cousin Elena's magical blood which was needed to break that curse. Kol made it rather clear that he would not be involved in all the drama if not for the threat on his life. He also made sure to tell you about Stefan and Damon Salvatore - two vampire brothers competing for Elena's favor - as the latter of whom had aided in your abduction.

"I'll kill them both if you want me to, darling. Just say the word and they're dead," He offered, only half joking which was frightening though you'd never admit it.

You shook your head. "No. No dead-ed-ing," You said. "Who can I tri-ick? Which-which one?"

Kol groaned. "Y/N, love, I say this because I care about you… But, for the love of Odin, please don't do anything stupid?" You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it. "They are ten times stronger and faster than you. Don't provoke them."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Trick them," You insisted. "Tr-trick! Use it, um, use pity!"

"I thought you said you hate it when people pity you?" Kol said, raising a brow. 

You shrugged. "Gets things."

Kol grinned. "You, darling, are a little two faced devil and I love it." He laughed and pressed a kiss to your hair. "The younger of the two - the one who looks like he's the main character - he'll be the easiest to fool."

You nodded and bit your lip. All this information was great, but not what you truly wanted to know. So you asked the question that had been weighing on your mind since Kol had buried his fangs in your neck. You tapped his chest gently. "How?" You whispered. "How did this, um… br-ring? No, no…"

Kol sighed heavily. "You want to know how I became this, don't you?" You nodded. "I'd hoped you'd give up on that."

"Have to," You said, somewhat apologetic. "Have to know." 

You had to know his past - his reasons. You needed to know why you were here and why he was here with you. You were important to him, even though you weren't sure why, but you could tell that he was trying very hard not to scare you off. Why was he so determined? What did you mean to him?

"I know you do." He cradled you closer and sighed again.

You were good at reading people, you always had been because you had needed to be. So you knew that Kol wasn't being entirely honest with you - he was holding something back. He was lying. Kol was manipulating you to keep you around… and you decided, for the time being, to let him. You knew it was the only way to figure out the truth. People told you more when they didn't think they were telling you anything, and Kol thought he had you in the palm of his hand. It wasn't intentional or malicious, but that was the truth and you needed to figure out the reason behind it.

So you kept your head on his chest, and as he began to speak, you listened. 

"I was born of two worlds. The world of men from my father, and from my mother, the world of magic. My father's people were what yours now call the Vikings, but I, like my mother, was a witch."

Your eyes remained closed as you took note of his heartbeat, his breathing, and the vibrations of his voice. You kept track of each as he spoke, noting every change - every increase in rhythm, every struggle for breath, every fluctuation in tamber. More importantly, however, you paid attention to his hands. 

As he talked, Kol's hands began hesitantly roaming your body. He was gentle with you, and his touches were nothing short of loving. Even though you weren't entirely sure whether or not you were comfortable with being felt up, you chose not to reprimand him for it. It was pretty clear that Kol had been touch starved for most of his life, so he didn't realize everything he was telling you. Trying to figure out his past was too difficult with only the pieces he gave you verbally - he was trying to keep things from you, so you had to use every advantage. Every touch was a clue, a piece of the puzzle and you were rather good at puzzles. 

For the most part, Kol's right hand stayed in the vicinity of your head, neck and shoulders. He took to twisting and tangling your hair around the fingers of his right hand as he told you about his childhood. His early days of mayhem and magic were clearly some of his favorite memories, but you weren't sure how they related to you. Oddly enough, it was his left hand that told you more as he was right hand dominant and thus paid less attention to his other hand.

"Don't laugh, but we had werewolves for neighbors. Everything would have been fine if Niklaus hadn't taken Henrick out to watch them turn."

Kol trailed his hand from your waist over your hip and then down to your thigh. 

"When they came back, Henrick wasn't alive anymore."

His hands stilled and his voice turned distant. He wasn't over the death of his younger brother.

"My parents were devastated. So they elected to do the unthinkable. My mother cast a spell to make us immortal and bound it within us using wine laced with blood."

You found it strange that his voice was so apathetic and devoid of emotion. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or hurting just from his tone because it didn't change much, he kept his voice carefully controlled.

"I didn't realize what my mother had done to us until it was too late," He said. Kol slipped his hand beneath your shirt and you tried not to flinch, just let him caress the skin of your waist. "And I-I tried to run, I tried to warn them - I promise I did - but I-I just wasn't fast enough." He shifted uncomfortably and his right arm tugged you closer to him. "My father caught me. I thought I could outrun him. I ran as fast as I could. 'Kept trying to go faster. But I couldn't and-and then I…" He stopped and you gently pulled yourself away from him, opening your eyes.

You weren't lying on your bed anymore, the ground was dirt and the walls of your room were no longer standing. Instead you were surrounded by shadows and trees. You looked down at Kol and his eyes were far away, his expression drawn tight with fear. He was terrified.

"Wh-what seen n-next?" You asked quietly, hesitantly. You wanted to ask what had happened, but it seemed your brain was no more cooperative than usual. You weren't entirely sure you wanted to know.

Kol shook his head, eyes unfocused. "I-I didn't even know he was there until I felt it…" He whispered. He sounded so young. So scared. "I couldn't hear him behind me. I-I didn't know! If I had, I would have done something, but I didn't, and then… Then he…" The boy trailed off.

"K-ol?"

He closed his eyes and laughed. The sound came from deep in his chest and it wasn't happy at all. When he opened his eyes they were black as pitch. He looked right at you, his right hand moving to cup your cheek. He watched you for a moment, a faint smile gracing his face. Then he leaned up and captured your lips with his and you let him. His kiss was harsh and rough and needy. Kol slid his tongue over your bottom lip, asking you for permission. You denied him because he simply wasn't thinking straight, something was wrong. Kol pulled away, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. 

"Please, Y/N?" He whispered pleadingly. "I-I need you." He tugged on your shirt. "I need you right now."

"N-no." You shook your head. "I-I can't… You're n-not o-okay… you're not-."

"Not good enough? Is that what you mean?" His voice sounded so pained. "Or is it because I'm not human?"

"No! No, no… Kol I-" You sighed. "Not that. Like you, um, I-I like you… but-but I…" 

"What's so wrong with me?" His lips ghosted over yours as he shook his head. "Why am I more broken than you?"

"Not, Kol! You-you're not!" You wanted to tell him that he was scaring you. You wanted to ask him why he was behaving this way, but you couldn't get the words to come out. "You're sca-ring me."

"Good," Kol said, petting your side. His eyes weren't black, you realized. They were blood red. "You should be scared of me." 

Then his lips were on yours, kissing you so ferociously that you knew he had no intention of stopping. He squeezed your waist and you let out a gasp of pain as his fingers dug into your flesh. But he didn't care. It was like he couldn't even hear you. He sat up with you on his lap but that wasn't enough for him. Suddenly, you were the one one the ground and Kol was hovering over you. There was something wild and desperate in those blood red eyes. Something mad.

"You want to know what happened next, Y/N?" He spoke, his voice like matted silk. "Just look around. This is the spot where it happened - a recreation of it anyway because I'll never forget." He glanced around, admiring the place. Why was his voice so emotionless?! Then his eyes snapped back to you. They were cold. His voice was soft. 

"He murdered us, Y/N," Kol said, stroking your cheek in a way that would have been loving had it not been so frigid. Even when he'd been standing with his arms around you in a crushing grip, greedily draining mouthful after mouthful of your blood, you had never been truly scared of Kol. But now, laying beneath him, completely at his mercy - now you were terrified. "He murdered us, and we all died. Finn slit his wrists because mother told him to. Elijah tried to stop our father from beating Niklaus to death, but he failed and they bled out together. Rebekah died in her sleep, her throat slit by our father's hunting knife. In some twisted way I think he was proud of me. See, I died on my feet. Alone. Here in these woods. My father drove his sword through my heart." Beneath your shirt, Kol moved his hand. He rested it over your heart, tapping lightly. "Right here… and it hurt." He drew his finger in a circle, just grazing your skin. Kol's hands were as cold as death. You knew because you remembered what death had felt like. You tried not to move.

"He killed me!" The boy choked. "He killed me, Y/N! I'm dead!" His voice quieted. He blinked. "Yes, I'm quite dead…" 

Both of you were dead. 

The cold of his hands sank into your bones and took you away. It was so cold. You shivered. Kol grinned and his fangs slid out, ready to tear into your throat. 

You hardly noticed when someone threw him off you.

A familiar voice cried your name.

"Y/N, RUN!"

But you didn't.

You were already drowning.

You were all alone and all you could see was black water and red lights. You were sinking, deeper and deeper beneath the surface. Water filled your lungs and you couldn't breathe! The black water froze your skin and burned your lungs as you desperately tried to claw your way to the surface. The red lights only drew further away from you. All you could do was sink lower, and lower. You couldn't breathe.

You closed your eyes and you were-

Back in your room?

You were back where you had begun. Standing in your room. Across from you stood Kol. His eyes were back to normal - that sweet as chocolate brown - but they were fixed on his feet and he played with his fingers nervously.

"I'm sorry about that," He said quietly. "I-I didn't realize your mind would be so excitable - so reactive to traumatic memories…" 

All the fear crashed in on you then. You screamed, backing away from the boy you'd thought you could trust. "W-hy?! Why did-did you do that to m-me?!" You didn't understand anything that was happening. 

Kol lifted his hands, trying to calm you. "No, no! Y/N/N, that wasn't me!" He claimed. "I promise that wasn't me!"

"Wh-what?!" Nothing made sense and you could still feel the water's chill. You didn't want to die again. You didn't want to drown.

"Darling, listen to me." Kol's voice drew your attention. "Your mind is playing tricks on you - on both of us. It's reacting to our fears and manifesting our nightmares."

You raised a brow, still trying to process what you had just experienced. "Wh-what's ha-happen-ening? I-I don't get! I feel cracking!" You felt shaken, out of control. It was as if there was something else moving in your mind, another force entirely. It was roiling and frothing and angry. 

The water. 

You were going to drown. You were going to die.

"Y/N, I need you to calm down!" He ordered, gritting his teeth. "Your mind is highly encourageable; it's a bit like quicksand really, the more either of us struggles, the deeper we sink," He explained. 

"So how cl-imb out?!" You demanded. Something was pulling at you. You felt light headed. 

"I'm not sure," Kol said. "But I think my worst fear is out to get you, and if that's true, then yours is only minutes behind me. We'll be in more danger the longer we remain entangled like this." 

You froze, looking up at him curiously. "You-you… fear?" You wondered. "You're afr-a-aid?" 

"Yes." Kol nodded. "Yes, that's right, I'm afraid of things too. It's alright to be afraid, love."

"What-what, uh…" You shook your head, blinking. How could he be afraid? What did he have to fear?  "What, um, sca-scares you?"

"I think you've already met it." The boy bit his lip, playing with his fingers. 

Only then did you make the connection. "Bla-lack eyes?" Kol sighed.

"It's just that I-I've, um…" He trailed off, watching you with dark eyes that had never looked so soft. "I've got this real nasty habit of breaking things…" Kol's voice was barely a whisper and you could see the tears in his eyes. "...beautiful things, things that I love - things that make me happy. I bring to desolation everything that I touch. I've done it over and over, countless times, and I'm terrified that I'll do it again." 

He looked up, meeting your eyes and you understood. Kol's worst fear was hurting you in a way you wouldn't forgive - that's what that corrupted version of him had been trying to do. Something slammed against your bedroom door - a fist pounding on wood - and you flinched. Kol's nightmare was trying to get in.

"I've seen your fears too, Y/N," The boy continued. "I've seen the red lights you told me about - the lights of the bridge you saw overhead as the current pulled you under and then the lights of emergency vehicles on your way to the hospital. I saw them."

He'd seen them. 

You were going to drown. You were going to die.

The wall behind Kol transformed into a swirling wave, rushing to flood the room. You screamed, but the impact you were bracing for never came and you felt the boy's hands on your shoulders. You glanced up. The room was as it had been - no water. "Y/N, look at me! You need to calm your mind. If you don't, then once I leave you'll be lost to horror after horror. You need to calm your mind."

But you couldn't. All you could think of was his monster's cold hands, and cold water, and red lights.

"I can't!" You cried. "I-I-I-I can-n't! I can't!"

Kol wrapped his arms around you. He was warm and you clung to him. "Shhhhhh," He whispered. "It's alright, sweet-thing. I won't let you drown."

"C-old!" You choked out. "So cold!"

"I know," He said. "I know it's cold. But I'm right here and I promise you're going to be okay."

You shook your head. You would never be okay - you were far too broken to ever be okay. "Can't f-fix my-my-mysel-f…"

Kol just held you tighter. "You don't need to fix anything, Y/N. I love you just the way you are." He combed his fingers through your hair and pulled you into his lap, pressing against you lovingly. He took your face in his hands and kissed your lips slow and soft, relishing every second of it. Then he stooped low to whisper in your ear, cradling you in his warm gentle arms. "You have a beautiful mind, darling - a powerful, extraordinary, unparalleled mind that is capable of powerful, extraordinary, and unparalleled things. You are the master of its potential, and I promise that one day these nightmares that plague you will fade. There is nothing that you are not capable of overcoming and I think I'm going to enjoy watching you rise." He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and you hugged him tighter as that lightheaded feeling increased. Your vision flooded with white and Kol's arms disappeared.

When you came around, everything was ringing. Except this time, you were pretty sure that only half of the noise could be attributed to your tinnitus. The rest you blamed on the drugs. 

You groaned. What in the Sam hill had your cousins injected you with? And how on earth had they gotten their hands on hospital grade sedatives?! They don't just sell that sort of stuff at Wal-Mart! Your cousin's extracurricular activities were becoming more and more worrisome the longer you thought about them. 

However, there was a time and a place to worry about such things and neither of those were here and now. For the moment, you needed a plan. 

Step one: Achieve mobility. (This was going to be challenging as your entire body felt like one giant block of lead.)

Step two: Ascertain your whereabouts. (You didn't think your cousins would've taken you someplace dangerous, but then again, they had kidnapped you so there was no telling what they might decide to do next.)

Step three: Negotiate your freedom. (If their willingness to jump to extreme methods was anything to go by, then any attempt to convince your cousins that Kol had merely been trying to protect you might not go over too well. So perhaps it would just be best to convince them that you were free from his wacky mind control whatever-that's-called. )

Step Four: Expect negotiations to go sour. (Elena and Jeremy didn't seem very open-minded about whatever was happening here and words had never been your strength. Hope for the best, expect the worst, right?)

Step Five: Escape via any means necessary. (While peaceful methods would be the prefered option, family or not, use of violent force would also be tolerable. Kol had said that the vampire with the hero hair was the most likely to grossly underestimate you, so you figured he was your ticket.)

Step Six: Find Kol and run. (Kol wanted to keep you safe, that you were sure of. While it was true that he wasn't exactly stable, you were important to him and for now that seemed to be your best advantage. Elena and Jeremy had other priorities and common sense dictated that you side with the possibly ancient vampire over your teenage cousins.)

The surface you were sprawled out on was luxuriously soft - softer than a cloud -  thus your will to get moving was rather illusive. With more difficulty than you thought reasonable, you sat up, scrubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. You had to blink rapidly for a few moments so your eyes could adjust to the bright sunlight streaming into the room from the window on your right, but once you could see, you found yourself in an extravagant albeit entirely unfamiliar bedroom. You had visited your cousins before and this was not their house. Such knowledge was somewhat unnerving, but you kept yourself calm regardless.

Step one and two down. Time for three and four. 

First, however, you needed to find a weapon. Hope for the best, expect the worst, and you didn't actually expect negotiating your way out of this to work, but it was worth a shot. Managing to clamber to your feet without making any sort of noise was a bit of a challenge but it didn't take you too long. Kol had informed you of the enhanced senses vampires possessed; lucky for you, you had spent your whole life perfecting the art of going unnoticed. 

Shuffling forward, you carefully made your way over to the dresser that sat pushed against the far wall. Upon it, rested a large, bronze candlestick. You weren't sure why anyone in the twenty-first century would still have a candlestick in their room, but for the moment you simply thanked heaven for people with weird decoration preferences. Grinning, you swiped the candlestick from the dresser and weighed it in your hands. It was frickin' heavy. Your grin stretched wider.

Unfortunately, the candlestick was too long for you to successfully conceal it beneath your clothing. So, sliding back to the bed, you sat down and slipped the thing underneath your leg and then pulled the covers over yourself. You rubbed at your eyes and ruffled your hair a bit in an effort to look a tad bit more distraught, then you took a deep breath…

And screamed your ever loving lungs out.

If your cousins thought you were going to be a good little prisoner then they had another thing coming.

It wasn't long before some guy with dirty blond hair came rushing into the room, waving his hands in a placating gesture while he said a bunch of words you couldn't discern in an attempt to get you to stop screaming. Faking absolute terror wasn't too hard as you were actually rather unsettled by the situation as a whole, however, you did feel a little bad because the dude in front of you seemed pretty close to hysterics himself. You decided to take it easy on him and snap your mouth shut abruptly, staring at him with eyes as wide as quarters. He let out a nearly comical sigh of relief and took a step closer.

Naturally, you started screaming again.

The poor man jumped and scrambled back, putting his finger to his lips and again trying to calm you. He kept apologizing over and over but you figured that acting like a total wreck would benefit you most so you continued your mindless shrieking. His expression turned pleading and he clasped his hands together in earnest.

You took pity on him and shut up again, looking him over. You knew instantly that this must have been Stefan Salvatore. Kol had been absolutely right - the guy really did look like a main character of something.

He opened his mouth to talk. "I'm not going to hurt you," He said slowly. He over pronounced his words so you could read them off his lips. Then he pointed at the bedside table. "We charged those for you."

You blinked, watching him with distrustful eyes before sparing the briefest glance to where he was pointing. Resting in a charging port, were your hearing aids and you silently thanked every deity you knew of that they had survived through two kidnappings. You snatched them up and put them on, keeping your eyes on Stefan the whole time. 

When your hearing aids beeped to life, sound returned to your world and escape seemed that much more possible.

"Uh, hi." Stefan waved awkwardly. "Can you, um… can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah," You said, letting your voice shake.

"Good! Great! That's, uh, that's really… great…" He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, um, I'm Stefan and, uh… this is, uh, my-my house… and… I really hoped your cousins would be back by now." He kept talking really slowly and offered you a sheepish smile. Bless his soul, he was trying so hard. You almost felt bad for him.

"W-where is-is Jer-r-emy? El-en-en-na? Where gone?!" You demanded, hugging yourself for extra pity points. 

"I'm a friend of Elena's," Stefan said, trying to reassure you. "She asked me to watch out for you while she and Jeremy went to go put their stuff back at their place. They're really worried about you, uh… Y/N… It is Y/N, right?" He asked quickly. You nodded. 

"Don't, uh, don't under-s-stan-and!" You hiccuped.

"I know you're scared, but you're safe here. I promise," He said. You looked up at him with curious, vulnerable eyes. He continued, "Elena told me what happened. You're safe now. Kol is never gonna hurt you again." 

To hell with steps three and four; now was the perfect time to throw yourself a pity party.

You froze at the mention of Kol's name, letting your breaths turn shallow and your eyes open wide. You shook your head. "No," You whispered. "No, no, no! N-ot him! He-he was i-in my-my head! No! Ma-ake lea-ve. Can't… don't want to! Make me do things! Did-didn't want to!" Tearing your fingers through your hair and sobbing, you proceed to stutter out some incomprehensible gibberish about being scared out of your wits.

It seemed to do the trick.

Stefan's eyes flew wide and he did that thing with his hands again, looking as if he were trying to calm a spooked horse. "Hey, hey! Shhhhhh. Y/N, shhhhhh. It's okay! I'll call Elena, yeah? I'll-I'll call Elena and-and you can, uh, you can talk to her about all this. Alright? Does that sound good?"

You just nodded, pretending to cry. This was going to be much easier than you'd thought.

Stefan paced around the room, holding his phone to his ear. "Hey, Elena. Uh, your cousin is up and, uh, I-" He glanced back at you. "-I can't understand a word she's trying to say. You think you could get back here? Soon?" He paused, listening. "Well 'cause she's so… different! I don't know how to deal with this!" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You waited until his back was turned, tightening your grip on the candlestick still hidden under your leg. Soundlessly, you slipped out of the bed and crept up behind him, raising the candlestick high over your head. 

"Thanks," He said into the phone. He moved to hang up. This was your chance.

Without giving any sort of warning, you brought the heavy bronze down on Stefan's skull as hard as you could.

A sickening crack echoed through the air and he grunted, swaying for a moment before he collapsed to his knees. The phone slipped from his fingers but you caught it and hung up before it too could hit the floor. Stefan groaned and lifted his head, squinting up at you, his face a picture of confusion.

"How…" 

You just shrugged, brushing some hair from your face before Spartan kicking Stefan in the chest. The force of the impact sent him toppling over onto his back. Feeling no remorse whatsoever, you stepped on both his hands to keep him pinned. Blood from your first blow dripped down the candlestick, slickening the shaft. You adjusted your grip and raised the weapon over your head again. With a scream of effort, you bashed the candlestick over his head four more times, until you were satisfied that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

Pushing the hair from your face with a bloodied hand, you stood, patting Stefan on the knee. It was nothing personal - he had just made the same mistake as far too many others. You were damaged, it was true; where people went wrong was thinking that damaged meant the same thing as helpless. It didn't. 

Wiping Stefan's blood on your pants, you left the room. You were no stranger to blood - the sight of it had stopped making you queasy a long time ago. Moving down a dimly lit hallway decorated with wood and red carpet, you found your way to a stairwell which you took. At the end of another long and dim hallway, you spotted a window large enough to crawl through. You dashed towards it. Because attempting to find the front door in this maze of a house would take forever and you didn't have the time to waste. You forced the latch and threw the window open. 

The stupid thing hardly budged.

You groaned. Throwing your weight against it a few more times, you managed to shove it open a little more - just enough for you to fit through. You made sure to chuck the candlestick out first because there was no way you were leaving that thing behind, then you steeled your nerves and dove through. You went head first, wriggling your way out while simultaneously tossing away any shred of dignity you'd ever possessed. All that time spent immobile in various hospital beds had finally paid off! For the first time in your life, you were actually grateful to be so extraordinarily frail. 

After tumbling to the ground in a heap that lacked any grace whatsoever, you took a brief moment to curse your cousins for kidnapping you. Once that was taken care of, you stood, brushed yourself off, and grabbed your candlestick out of the dirt. It was pretty gross, seeing as all the leaves and moss and dirt had gotten stuck to the congealed blood glossing the thing, but you simply could not find the will to care. You had only ever visited your cousins once and thus had absolutely no clue where anything in their little town was. However, as long as you weren't with Elena, anywhere would be better than that creepy old house. So, you took a deep breath and hightailed it into the trees.

You ran as far and as fast as your short, under-used legs would carry you and you were pretty sure you tripped over every root there was to be had along the way. You only paused when you heard the snap of a branch. It was a little too close for comfort and you were almost positive there were no deer nearby. Flinching as you turned up the volume on your hearing aids, you listened for other sounds of a pursuer. 

You turned to face her as she stepped out from behind a tree on your left, swiftly and casually tucking the candlestick out of her view. The girl was blonde and looked to be around Elena's age. She was rather tall too, and she watched you with an appraising gleam in her sharp, preparatory, blue eyes. Those eyes reminded you of Kol's - you smiled wryly. 

"What's that buzzing sound?" She asked first, glancing around. Her voice blared in your ears, your hearing aids dramatically enhancing the annoyed tone of it. You flinched. Turning your head, you pointed out your hearing aids to her, proceeding to lower the volume on them. She tilted her head curiously. "Are those little devices how you heard me coming?" The girl wondered. You nodded. "Huh… Are you Y/N?" You nodded again. "Do you know who I am?" You shook your head. Her eyes flicked down to your semi subtle attempt at hiding the candlestick and she smirked, gesturing vaguely at it. "Concealing your weapon, are we? I can see why Kol likes you so much. Come now love, what is it? Is it the revolver or the lead pipe?"

You chuckled softly at the sheer irony as you showed her the bronze candlestick. The girl's eyes widened and she smirked in amusement. Then she strode forward and stuck out her hand for you to shake, which is exactly what you did.

"My name's Rebekah," She said. "Kol's my older brother; he called me and asked me to keep an eye out for you." 

"Why-why go? Why d-did, uh, it?" You asked skeptically.

Rebekah shrugged. "I owe him," She replied easily. "Besides, us girls need to stick together." She smiled and you returned it. "Also, did you whack Stefan Salvatore over the head with that thing?" The girl pointed to the candlestick in your hand and you just nodded vigorously. Her grin grew wider. "Oh, darling, I like you! Let's go get you cleaned up before Kol gets back, yeah? He's real anxious to see you." 

Rebekah threw an arm around your shoulders and you followed her lead out of the woods. 

Turns out, Kol and the rest of his family were loaded, so you spent the rest of your evening in comfort at their enormous mansion. Rebekah gave you some fresh clothes for you to change into, which you appreciated despite them being a bit too big. She also introduced you to her other brother, Elijah who you helped solve a crossword puzzle. You also helped Rebekah with her homework because the poor girl was seriously struggling in algebra. 

Five hours after you had arrived, the door to the kitchen opened behind you and someone threw their keys on the counter. You sat at the bar, checking the last problem on Bekah's homework while she watched over your shoulder. Elijah sat behind you, reading a really thick book. When you heard the door open, you smirked and turned around. Standing in the doorway was Kol. His hair was tousled and his chocolate eyes were an innocent kind of tired. You thought he looked soft.

"Hello, K-ol!" You chirped.

The grin that spread across his face could have lit up the whole world but it was only meant for you. "Hello, Y/N/N." He waved.

You hopped off your stool and ran to him, jumping up so you could throw your arms around his shoulders. Kol caught you and held on tight, burying his face in your neck. His whole body curled around yours and neither of you said a word because no words needed to be said. You gasped as he turned his head to press a few heated kisses along your jaw, but he made no move to take it anywhere further. Not at the moment. Kol wasn't done holding you yet.

Your cheeks flared with heat as someone behind you cleared their throat and you were abruptly reminded that you weren't alone. 

"I know Elijah," Kol mumbled into your neck. "I owe you for keeping Klaus away, I've got it."

Rebekah just huffed and stalked out of the room. You turned your head a bit to watch as Elijah closed his book. 

"No, actually I was going to say that for this one-" He gestured to you. "-I'd be more than happy to do it again."

Kol merely sent his brother a thumbs up and went back to kissing your neck. That wasn't very nice of him so you smacked his arm and he sighed, glancing up at Elijah. "Thank you for the offer, I'll keep it in mind. Now bugger off!" You smacked his arm again. "Alright, bugger off please?" He added. 

Elijah huffed a laugh and left the room. When he was gone, Kol turned back to you. His eyes turned a little more sad now that you were alone.

"Y/N…  I just want to say-" 

You slapped your hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up so you could talk. But you didn't. You signed instead.

You pointed to yourself. 

Then crossed your arms over your chest.

Then you pointed at him.

"I love you."

Kol grinned and smoothed his hands over your arms. You pulled him close again for another hug but this time Kol's hands gripped your thighs, prompting you to hook your legs around him. A breeze skipped over your skin and your surroundings changed in an instant. Kol placed you down on his bed and moved to shut the door before returning. You blushed deeply, shying away from him as he climbed over you. 

"S-slow?" You asked quietly. He smiled and cupped your cheek, brushing the loose strands of hair away from your face. Kol left a lingering kiss to your forehead. Then he moved, ghosting his lips along your bright pink cheeks. Your eyes fluttered closed and he kissed those next. His feather-soft lips trailed along your jaw and then finally met yours for a kiss that lit a fire in your lungs that spread through your whole body. You felt warm. Kol was warm.

"You're beautiful," He whispered, urging you to lie back. Kol kissed you gently, tucking stay wisps of hair behind your ears as you shifted. "I'd do anything for you." That boy deepened his kiss, drawing a soft moan out of you that turned his breaths shallow. Kol pulled back and those chocolate eyes of his burned into yours. "Broken or not-" He said. "-I love every part of you."

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @musically-ambiguous @apolloroid

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

[needleandhammer]

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

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

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

[rayofsunas]

otherworldly! s/o

A/n: happy monday! I woke up at 7am and since then I've been grinding out assignments/classes and now this, so I actually feel productive even though I've been staring at my computer for a while. but thank you for requesting anon! I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! <33 also to understand this more, I'd like to point out that this connects to the speculation Genshin and Honkai are alternate universes of one another. so for example, Scaramouche is a harbinger from his time, but he may have been a warlord in a different, with a completely different name (keeping his appearance ofc) hope that makes sense. so if you've paid attention to what I've been saying about Scara and his mini-series, etc. you'll understand what I mean in Scara's lol. his reader insert is fem for the same reason as above btw!

Summary: otherworldly! s/o who arrived as a fallen meteor, that can bring back plants to life/heal deep wounds/scars and resurrect people.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, fluff, alternate realities/time traveler au! (reader is not the traveler), death/resurrection

Word count: 1.7k

Albedo

you don't have a vision like some people in Teyvat, because you're not from there; you're from a whole different world itself. instead, you have healing abilities that allow you to any energy you absorb in the form of food/sunlight, and you can use that energy to heal others. though, the healing can only go as far as healing minor injuries such as shallow cuts, scratches, or smoothing out scars. the same can work if you were to heal yourself.

Albedo is so intrigued when he finds you passed out in the pit of a meteor, half of your body hanging out while the other is awkwardly still in it

one, because who is this stranger in a meteor for crying out loud

and two, he notices your wounds on your arms are healing by themselves, slowly though

as someone who studies alchemy, life forms, and such, he's very intrigued that you're able to heal yourself without medicine, and he wonders if you can do the same to others

so he takes you to his lab, and runs a few tests

yes, you're still passed out when this happens, but he's just so curious and couldn't hold back

don't worry though, he's just drawing some blood and testing to see what you can do, because who knows, you may not even speak his language and won't be able to communicate with him (doesn't make a difference Albedo, you need COnSENT-)

so, just for science, he cuts the palm of his hand a little and decides to see if you can heal him

it doesn't take him long to notice the way the tips of your fingers are glowing a light greenish-yellow, so he immediately assumes that's the source of your powers and places a finger on his palm

it takes a second before anything happens, but eventually his cut starts to slowly close

once again he's even more shocked and intrigued

you have the natural ability and he's never come across someone with so much raw strength being able to do that

so you're right up his alley

when you wake up you're confused as hell (obviously) but thankfully, you can speak his language and are able to share your story

Albedo decides to make a deal with you

he'll help you get home if you can educate him more about your ability and your homeland. you agree

it works out perfectly, because you both have something the other needs/can do for the other (you have your power that he's interested in, and he's found a way for you to return home)

it's also easy to work together because of those same common interests, and it helps that he studies alchemy cause he's way more knowledgeable about you and the process can go a tiny bit quicker for you if you wish to return home sooner

at first you're merely friends, co-workers if you wish

but then he starts falling for you and vice versa

you both genuinely enjoy each others company, so you decide to stay in Teyvat a little while longer, even after he finds a way for you to go home

I wouldn't put it past Albedo to want to return to your world if you allow it

he'd be interested in this new or not so new world ;)

Xiao

you're like the traveler in a sense, where as soon as you climbed out of the meteor, you felt this connection to Teyvat and your vision randomly appeared. you have a dendro vision, something you learned was a rarity within liyue and mondstadt. along with that vision, you had the previous ability to grow/heal plants. you can bring back dead plants, though if they've been dead for a very long time, that's beyond your ability. they also can't be brought back if they've been badly burned.

Xiao may not be interested at first about what vision you have or even where you came from + why the hell you climbed out of a meteor

he's more interested in getting you home so you can stop asking questions about his own abilities/vision and odd, unfamiliar, but beautiful world

but boy when he catches you bringing back a wilted Glaze Lily?!? shook

he secretly thinks you're so cool and it piques his interest

he's never seen anyone do this before, and though his eyes were deceiving him when he first saw the lily spring to life again

but then when he catches you healing more plants, on your way to Liyue to hopefully find Zhongli for answers, he's so interested

he doesn't ask a crapload of questions, BUT he's going to ask at least one or two

"how're you doing that?"

"what are you?

the questions are kind of vague and require more in-depth explanations than he'd originally hoped, but he's surprisingly willing to listen to your story on the way to the harbor

after he learns your story and calls for Zhongli, he'll immediately leave and claim he has no further interests in you

but he's obviously lying

he finds as he's sitting on top of one the smaller mountains one night, looking down at the glowing Liyue town, he has more questions

way more questions

surprising Zhongli, Xiao shows appears when he's showing you around and getting you accustomed to the people/culture

he finds himself hoving behind you, shyly almost, never asking questions (at least not in Zhongli's presence

his reason for standing behind you is to protect you from any harm, so that way, when he decides to ask you more questions, you'll be there for him to do so and not dead or lost

when you tell Zhongli you'd wish to stay in Teyvat, specifically Liyue, Xiao is happy ngl

he can ask you questions and now that you're somewhat used to Liyue, having been here for four months already and planning to stay forever, he can catch you alone and ask questions without Zhongli hovering or acting as your tour guide lol

slowly, and I mean sluggishly slow, he's going to ask you more questions and he may, emphasis on may, tell you his own story

Scaramouche

you're from an alternate reality of Teyvat, a former doctor in your world. basically, Teyvat hundreds of years in the future. you've studied the human body to become a doctor obviously and you used to be able to bring back the dead using your bare hands. it didn't matter how far back ago they've died, as long as their full-body was still intact (full skeleton needed). though, the further back they died, the more energy you'd use, and if you run out of energy too soon, you couldn't bring them back. but now in this strange land, you can't. in exchange for your powers being lost, you're given an electro vision.

Scaramouche is tasked with finding out more about these odd meteors that keep appearing in various corners of Teyvat

and one very large one

he doesn't care who you are, what you are, what your excuse for being in Teyvat is, but he's been ordered to explore the fallen meteor and since you happened to be passed out inside it upon further exploration, you're part of the mystery he's been told to check out

and, it doesn't further help your situation that you landed in Snezhnaya, in the weirdest, not-so-warm clothing AND he finds you attractive (yes, you heard it here folks), plus you're going to catch hypothermia out here dressed like that

it would suck for a pretty girl such as yourself to be frozen to death

so Scaramouche decides to take you to the Tsaritsa, who leaves you in Scaramouche's care since he found you

she says he can do whatever he wants you, dispose of you, etc.

when you finally come too in an odd room on a couch in front of a fireplace, you're confused, cold as hell despite the flames, and when you see his face, you're immediately angered, which he finds odd

it's almost as if you recognize him... but he doesn't recognize you so he's confused as well

"what're you doing here?"

bold of you, he thinks. to question him with that tone as if you have authority here, over him

"watch yourself. I was going to ask you the same."

you don't seem too pleased with him though

"we agreed to never speak again, or so I thought..."

"are you stupid or are you just playing the stupid card to be released?" he'd say

though as soon as you burst and yell at him about a situation he's not familiar with, he's starting to understand a bit more

you're not from here, not anywhere in Teyvat at least, and by the way you're talking to him as if you know him, he assumed correctly that you're from an alternate reality, where he's also present

though despite his correct assumption, he demands answers and you cannot be allowed any kind of freedom until he gets them

you tell him your story and how in your world, a version of himself exists and that you were briefly married, though split because he was too much of a control/power freak for you and your daughter

he disagrees with the last part about him being a control/power freak ofc but

he decides he'll keep you around, against your wishes

one, because you can become useful if your resurrection abilities are awoken; you'd be able to save many fallen Fatui soldiers, with more training so you don't run out of energy ofc

and two, he doesn't think his other self would miss you very much if you're both on bad terms, he sure would miss such a pretty face if you were to leave though, that's for sure...

so, he's going to keep you around, so he can help train/get used to your electro vision. it works best that way since he has the same vision and can train you more efficiently (I think Scara has electro powers, just an assumption!)

he will also hopefully be able to awaken your resurrection abilities and if you can't, well then sorry you're disposable

overtime, all the Harbingers tease him about his little crush and he either denies it or strongly provokes it cause his ego is through his fucking hat

exhibit a. literally doesn't care that he's caught by childe staring at you train and will say something like, "and? you're just jealous she's not interested in you like she is me."

exhibit b. will throw a fit if someone accuses him and says he has, "no room for crushes or love." even if he was somewhat capable of it in your world...

3.22.21, rayofsunas

[yamagucji]

some tips for writing blogs, especially those who are just starting out. these are some things that works for me and may or may not work for others.

how to add a read more link on mobile

type :readmore: on a free space, then hit the enter or return button

personally i think they’re very helpful because it lessens the space you take up in your dash, and might encourage more people to rb

+ you can also add this on a spot where it gives a sort of cliffhanger, essentially making people want to ‘read more’

headers, banners, and dividers

though not necessary, it’s good to have a title for your work. make sure it’s bold and doesn’t blend in with your notes (aka pairing, warnings, etc.). this also helps when someone wants to look up one of your works in your search bar

i don’t really make banners or covers for my works. but some good apps that i know of would be picsart and canva. if you’re looking for ideas, i definitely recommend going into canva

wondering how to make those really small, thin dividers? you can make them using picsart! to make a divider hit tools > free crop > brush > size (adjust it to your preference > then draw a line along the edge of your photo > save

using the divider you just saved, go back to picsart and edit it again > draw option > hit rainbow square at the bottom left corner > hit suction/droplet symbol right below the check mark > color in the white spots bc for some reason picsart glitches and makes dividers look white-ish

new blog? just opened an account?

this is gonna sound really frustrating. but... tumblr needs to check if you’re a bot or not. what does this mean? it’s likely that your first few posts won’t show up on the search bar. you may not even get to edit your header/pfp yet ://

this happened to me and there was no visibility on my account at ALL. what helped me get ‘verified’ is that i followed a LOT of accounts, liked a bunch of posts, made some posts here and there. now that lets tumblr know you’re not a bot

visibility

the tumblr tagging system usually only allows the first 5 tags in your post to show up. so, what can do you about this? only use FIVE or less tags in your post. wait about 15 minutes or more until you can add some more tags in your post, and they usually all show up like that

another important thing about using tags is not to generalize! especially if you’re using a popular tag. but also don’t specify it too much where barely anyone looks it up. for example, if you’re writing a gn piece about oikawa, i recommend you use the tags such as: oikawa x reader, haikyuu x reader, oikawa x gn!reader, haikyuu headcanons, etc

a good rule of thumb is to use character x reader tags first, then leave the full name or fandom tag last

FOR NSFW: tumblr doesn’t let any tags with nsfw show up. so, give your nsfw works another tag. maybe #namegetspicy idk, you figure it out

FOR WARNINGS: especially if you’re a dark content creator, i highly encourage you to add tw:xyz tags. if you already have a warning note at the top then that’s great. but even better for readers who prefer to actually block these tags that way they never get to see it

another important thing to note is that people have different timezones. it helps if you rb your work at a different time of the day, in case people missed it! (icymi) i’ve noticed that reblogging helps to make your post show up in the tags

interaction + feedback

first and foremost, you are not obligated to write for your followers, and neither are your followers obligated to interact with you. remember that everyone has their own individual lives, and they have their own things to do— so do you, too.

make friends! become mutuals with other writers, visit their ask box. i know it can be daunting having to initiate these things, but you might just turn out to have fun! you can’t expect people to interact with you if you’re not interacting (back). it’s... kind of a two way thing yk? no need to be afraid to interact with other writers. oh, and rb other writers works!

pspsps join tag games or do ask games. it’s fun and very interactive

it never hurts to ask for feedback. i usually do this in a more subtle way because i don’t really expect a full on analysis on my works. maybe a little, is this okay? or feedback appreciated. sometimes it takes a little bit of coaxing for the silent readers

formatting your posts and blog

i generally put in the title at the top in big, bold letters

then comes the header/divider. helps to make the post more... visually appealing ig?

it’s important to add warnings (if any) and the pairing. the audience is not all female, and it might be a little frustrating for male readers having to find out its an x fem reader piece like halfway through your fic

if you have multiple works posted, it’s really really helpful to have a navigation page!

you can organize the posts you make with tags! for example, if you’re shitposting, you can use a specific tag for that. if you have a nsfw related post (ESPECIALLY when your blog is open to the general audience) please make a tag for it

themes + colors

if you have a color in mind but don’t know which direction to go from there, i recommend looking up color + aesthetic

looking to use the same color? download a name color app that’ll give you a hex code for any color you want to use. then, you can type in that hex code for when you’re choosing a color for your tumblr bio

wondering how to make your header image small like mine? just choose a photo for your header and turn off the stretch image option

want to use a different text color that tumblr doesn’t offer? it’s not as complicated as you think. you’ll have to go on a desktop to do this and do some html (but trust me, it’s not very difficult). look up “HTML noob but trying my best - how to use colored text on desktop”

^^ i don’t have the link for the color text tutorial so you can try looking it up

how to make an aesthetic navi and masterlist

step 1: decide a theme! if you’re stuck, think about a character + color/season/mood or look up “[insert] aesthetic” to find some inspiration. or you can try looking at other blogs too

step 2: find a color scheme! it’s easier if you choose fewer colors. if you want to use the same color for both divider and text, download a color name app in order to get the hex code of that color.

step 3: add categories to your navi! most navigation pages include a link to masterlist, about/byi, and rules. your navi should have a title that indicates that it’s... a navigation page. you can add thin colored dividers with the same color to make it easier for followers to navigate

step 4: you can choose to create a ‘cover’ or a picture for your navigation and masterlist! again, i recommend you use the canva app as a starting point

extra: search up emoticon symbols to spice up your titles!

reminder for you as a writer

you’re not obligated to do any of these things. i’ve noticed that we tend to build pressure on ourselves when it comes to content and interaction. remember, this !! is !! for !! fun !! when you realize that it’s no longer fun, then know that it’s time to take a break. and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self care.

^^ c/p from this post lol

at the end of the day, follower count and interaction doesn’t define you. again for the love of beings, you’re here on your own accord.

will be adding more if needed/asked.