#realized this last night and just went completely dead silent in the middle of my sentence while on a call with friends

[homoeroticfisticuffs]

i am not well

[the-last-person-0n-earth]

When the world ended

When the world ended there were no flames or torches. When the world ended no angels came with their scriptures. When the world ended there was not a cry nor a scream. When the world ended it was all silent.

The world ended when I was in school. Specifically the world ended when I was in the restroom in third period. Scrolling through my phone, savoring the last few seconds of silence before I went back to class. I didn’t notice, when I put my phone back in my pocket, the silence of the restroom. I didn’t note the silence in the halls as I made my way back to class. The sun was shining, it was a nice day. What I did notice however, was walking into a completely empty classroom. No teacher, no students, no nothing. I froze for a second, countless thoughts ran through my head; Did I walk into the wrong class? Was there a field trip no one told me about? Did lunch start? No, I was in the right class. There was no field trip. Lunch had not started. 

I always thought if the world ended I would at least be with my family, argue as we may they were my family. If not my family, at least my friends, at least one friend. I did not get to say goodbye, I did not get to apologize for countless screaming matches and sleepless nights, I did not get to hug them before they were gone. When my frantic thoughts had slowed and I had realized that I was in fact where I was supposed to be, the first thing I did was pull out my phone, the battery was dead, was the battery dead a minute ago? I could have sworn it was at at least 60%. I walked to my desk and grabbed my backpack, just in case. What was I supposed to do in this situation? Stop, drop and roll? Lock the door and hide in the corner of the class? Put my hands over my head and go under my desk?

They don’t teach you what you're supposed to do when the world ends, there's no drills, no warning, no lever to pull. What was I to do? I stayed in my class for a few minutes longer, or maybe many minutes longer. I didn't check the clock, if I had, I would have realized earlier that the clocks weren’t working. So I did what I thought I should, I left my class and walked down the hall. Hesitantly knocking on classroom doors and popping my head in, just in case I was wrong and someone yelled at me for walking around without a hall pass. Every class was the same, no students, no teachers, no staff, nothing. The longer I walked the worst I felt, I had no idea what was going on, and no one was here to help. I reached the entrance to the school before I knew it. Surely someone was walking the streets, driving a car, biking, going on a run. No. Cars stood still in the middle of the roads, bikes laid on the ground, empty. I toyed with the notion of picking up a bike and biking home, but I couldn't. I didnt know whose bike it was, what if they came back? They wouldn’t. The walk home was silent, horribly silent. I fought the urge to scream and cry with each step I took. Finally I made it home.

What did I expect to happen when the world ended? I wasn’t sure there would be anything to expect after the world had ended, I mean if the world ended then I wouldn’t be here anymore. That wasn’t the case, that much was apparent. The house was cold when I entered. I called out but no answer came. What did I expect? For someone to suddenly show up, hug me and tell me it was okay? What now? What now? What did I expect? What did you expect? What would you have done in my shoes? Rob a bank? I didn’t need money. Loot a store? They would still be there tomorrow. Every thought that flit through my head seemed equally undesirable and tiring. What would it mean in the end? Did it matter? There was so much never done, so much never experienced. Who could live with only themselves to keep them company? I certainly couldn’t. So many stories cut short, so many tales yet to be told. I could fill that space. Fill it with words and characters. Anything would be better than being alone. I grabbed a pen. I grabbed a paper. I would start my first story now, what better time to do it, with the memories still fresh in my mind? Fiction could come next, reality was first. That was what I needed to do, I needed to put my story out there, even if no one would read it. I wasn’t much of a writer before, but I supposed I would be now.

‘When the world ended. When the world ended there were no flames or torches.’

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 24 - Post Break Up [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

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

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Break ups are never easy.

Series Masterlist

A real spy, a good spy didn’t get scared.

That was one of the most important things they had taught you back at the academy. Being scared got you killed, so you always had to look for weapons or something you could use to save yourself.

Save yourself, take the target down if you can, and if you can’t; get out of there as soon as possible.

For some reason, none of those options felt like they would work against the most feared assassin in the world. Bucky tilted his head, his gaze bored into yours and you stole a look at the counter from the corner of your eye to see what you could use against him.

“Oh come on, do we really have to do that?”

You grabbed the knife on the counter, flipping it in your hand.

“What kind of an assassin would I be if I didn’t fight back?”

He pulled his brows together.

“Fight back?” he asked but before he could say anything else, you had already lunged at him. He dodged the knife way too easily and grabbed to twist your arm, but you went under his arm and jumped to wrap your legs around his neck, using the momentum to make him lose his balance before you both fell to the ground.

“Brings back the memories,” you grunted and he got out of your tight grip quite easily to grab at you, but you had already jumped on your feet. You darted at him and he sent you back, your back hitting the wall hard. You fell on your knees and snatched the knife off the floor but as soon as you got on your feet again, he let out a breath.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

A hysterical laughter escaped from your lips, “You do realize that it’s not my first day, right?”

“Do you seriously think I’d hurt you?”

“I think if somebody crossed me the way I crossed you, I wouldn’t let them live.”

“Yeah well, good thing I’m not you.”

You frowned slightly, trying to catch your breath as you held the knife tighter.

“Then what the fuck is this?” you asked, “Closure?”

“Oh no I think we’ve had closure,” he said, anger dripping off his voice, “This is a transaction.”

You stared at him and he reached into his pocket to pull out a thumb drive.

Well.

Okay. It was clear that you had misread this situation.

You put the knife on the table and crossed your arms, leaning back, “What is that?”

“This is the information of everyone I hurt on my Winter Soldier days,” he said, “Dates, names, occupations…. Your father’s name isn’t on it.”

Your stomach did a painful flip, “I know,” you rasped out, “I… um- I found out after I left that night.”

“HYDRA doesn’t have anything on your father, as far as I’ve seen.”

You nodded slowly, “And you’re helping me why?”

“I’m not helping you,” he stated, “I just know how it feels to be manipulated into doing something. Everyone deserves answers, no matter how terrible people they are.”

Well, you deserved that and much more.

“I see,” you said, “Well, for what it’s worth, thank you.”

He eyed you up and down silently.

“Why did you try to get me out of the country?” he asked after a beat, “That night? Why did you try to help?”

You bit inside your cheek, commanding yourself to stay strong.

“Does it matter after this point?” you asked back and he let out a breath, shaking his head.

“I guess not,” he mumbled and walked to the window, making you take a step towards him.

“Can I—“ you spoke before he could jump out, making him turn around to look at you, “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Why would you not want revenge?” you asked, “It’s assassin 101. Why not come after me for all these months?”

Why didn’t you try to find me?

That was what you wanted to ask. As twisted as it was, you would’ve taken him coming after you over him forgetting about you.

Well, as it turned out, no one could say assassins were reasonable people when it came to romance.

“I’m not that person anymore,” he said, “And honestly? You’re not worth it.”

Ah. That.

You could swear your heart was cracking but you pursed your lips together, forcing yourself to look unaffected.

“Fair enough,” you rasped out and took a deep breath. “Goodbye Bucky.”

He swallowed thickly, his gaze fixed on you.

“Goodbye Shrike,” he murmured and jumped out of the window, leaving you all alone, standing there in the middle of your apartment. You blinked back the tears, then ran a hand over your face.

“Get your shit together,” you murmured to yourself, then grabbed the wine glass to down it.

                                             *

The next day you were so busy with the HYDRA files Bucky had given you that you barely noticed Keith pulling a seat to plop down beside you.

“Hi there.”

“Hey,” you said without pulling your gaze off the screen as Keith put a cup of coffee on the table. “Thanks man.”

“No problem. What’re you working on?”

“Oh just some old files.”

“Old files? Where did you get them?”

“Bucky gave them to me last night.”

Keith sputtered out his coffee, causing you to make a face and grab the napkins to wipe the screen.

“Is this your first time they let you out into the real world or something?” you asked him, “Like, what is this? Were you raised in a barn? I don’t want your fucking germs—“

“Screw you. You met Barnes last night?” he lowered his voice, looking around and you shrugged.

“Met is the wrong word.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?”

“It’s not like I texted him to meet!” you whispered, “He just showed up!”

“Okay, we need to give you some protection—“

“No, and you’re not telling anyone.”

“You’re not safe!” he whispered and you shook her head.

“He’s not gonna hurt me.”

“Y/N-“

“He’s not,” you cut him off, “If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. I talk big talk, but trust me if he came after me, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I actually saw that last night.”

“Why was he there?”

“To give me this thumb drive,” you said, “I’m just going through this HYDRA stuff to see whether they had something on my father, whether— I don’t know, whether I missed something on our files.”

“We checked everything we had on HYDRA.”

“I’m just making sure.”

“What did he say?”

“Hm?”

“What did you talk about last night, when he showed up?”

“You know, typical break up stuff,” you murmured before peeling your eyes off the screen. “He broke into my apartment, gave me a thumb drive with top secret information and oh—before I forget, he said I wasn’t worth going after.”

He blinked a couple of times, staring at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“So much for civil exes huh?”

“More like evil exes,” he commented, “You know he’s being a jerk to you because you tore his heart out, right?”

“I can’t really blame him,” you muttered, “He’s right to be upset.”

“But are you okay?”

You scoffed a laugh, “I betrayed the one person who I could see a future with,” you admitted, “And six months apparently wasn’t enough to get over him. So no, Keith, I’m really not okay.”

He pressed his lips together.

“What if we got you out there? You know, maybe you can’t get over someone without getting under someone.”

“I’ve had sex in the last six months, that’s not working.”

“Barnes hasn’t.”

That was enough to make you turn your head, your whole attention on him.

“What?”

“We’ve um… we’ve kept an eye on Barnes and Wilson, you know, what they have been doing. Barnes isn’t even meeting people.”

“Maybe he is and you don’t know.”

“Nope,” he said, “He and Captain America have been going on their own missions, but since Accords 2.0 didn’t pass, we can’t touch them.”

You tilted your head, “Hold on, what missions?”

A big grin pulled at Keith’s lips.

“Y/N, are you asking me to share classified information with you?”

You arched a brow and eyed you up and down, then steered your office chair a little to the left.

“I’m glad you came back,” he said, dragging his fingers on the touchpad to find the files, “Things were getting a little boring here.”

                                                    *

As a spy, finding targets wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. In fact, since coming back here you were beginning to feel less like a professional spy and more like a rookie in training. You were growing restless every minute you weren’t working, and maybe that was why you were dying to keep yourself busy with something.

Even if that something was completely forbidden by your agency and you would probably be sent to another country again if they ever found that out.

So searching for where Bucky and Sam were using the agency’s resources was probably a bad idea, yet there you were.

You took a deep breath, then approached their table and plopped down to the seat next to Bucky’s.

“You’re going after HYDRA’s leader?”

Bucky’s head whipped up and Sam gawked at you for a second before pulling his brows together.

“What the…”

“Who’s your source?”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked through his teeth and you crossed your arms.

“Paying back the favor.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want you here.”

“How did you even know-“

“I’m a spy, Sam,” you stated, “And the agency has been watching you, do you guys seriously think we've left you alone?”

“I was actually hoping you’d leave me alone, yeah.” Bucky growled through his teeth and your heart dropped to your stomach, but you managed to shake your head.

“I don’t—“

“Your agency has been keeping tracks on us?”

You nibbled on your lip, “Just because Accords 2.0 was a failure…” you trailed off and Bucky scoffed, drumming his metal fingers on the table.

“Why are you here?”

“Listen I get it, you hate me,” you said, “Fine. Not a big deal, I can live with that. But I just- I can help.”

Bucky stared at you as if he was waiting for you to say you were joking, but when you didn’t, he let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re not serious, right?”

“Bucky,” Sam said warningly and he threw his hands up.

“You can’t possibly be entertaining this.”

“I’m just asking what the agency knows, that’s all.”

You heaved a deep sigh, trying your hardest not to show your disappointment on your face. It wasn’t like you expected Bucky to welcome you, but you were at least hoping—

Well.

It didn’t matter what you were hoping, it was very obvious that Bucky would never forgive you.

“They’ve just been keeping tracks on you,” you said, “I don’t think any of them put the clues together, and they can’t touch you even if they did, you’d have to do something first. Especially after the last fail—“

“Oh you mean when they took me in after you lied to me about everything and leashed them on me?” Bucky asked you, “That fail?”

You clicked your tongue, “Yeah. That one.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Bucky.”

“But I’ve been going after different HYDRA officials for the last couple of years, and I’ve spent the last 6 months going over everything we had on them, I know some of their locations. So going after HYDRA leader then? Or his super secret location? Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Forgive me if I’m not in a sharing mood after learning about what a liar you are. As far as you’re concerned, we’re not doing anything.”

“But I’m trying to make amends—“

“Not interested.” Bucky cut you off and you swallowed thickly.

“You’ve seen me fight,” you insisted, “You’ve— you’ve seen how good I am at my job, okay? I just— I swear I won’t say anything to the agency, just let me help.”

Sam looked between you two and turned to Bucky.

“That’s not such a—“

“Don’t say it.”

“Even you have to admit, that’s not a terrible idea.”

“You’d have to be crazy to think you can trust her,” Bucky argued back, “I get that you always want to see the best in people, but you can’t, not with her.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you reminded him and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I know, feel free to leave.”

“Don’t,” Sam told you and Bucky frowned.

“You’re joking.”

“Bucky, she could help.”

“And then turn us in.”

“The agency lied to me about my father, I’m not going to turn you in or do anything to have me manipulated by them again. Whatever the mission is, they won’t know about it, you have my word.”

“Because your word holds any value for me?” Bucky asked you, his voice way too calm and you clenched your jaw.

“The mission doesn’t require a honey trap,” he said when you didn’t answer his rhetorical question, “Thanks for the offer though, Y/N. Go to hell.”

With that, he walked out of the café and you just sat there completely frozen. You could swear your heart weighed a ton in your chest, and your eyes were burning but you quickly blinked the tears back, then shrugged your shoulders.

“That went well.”

“Do you really want to help?” Sam asked after a couple of seconds of silence and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You scoffed a bitter laugh, “Other than apparently signing my own death warrant?” you asked, “I owe him. He doesn’t want to go after me for using him, fine. He still deserves justice. HYDRA destroyed his life, the least I can do is help him get back at them, make them pay.”

Sam raised his brows, “You feel that guilty huh?”

You didn’t have any answer to that, and he took a deep breath.

“Can I trust you?”

“You can,” you murmured, “I want you to, but… I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. Let me rephrase the question, will you betray his trust again?”

There was no hesitation in your voice when you spoke, “I’d rather die.”

Sam held your gaze as if trying to see whether you were sincere or not, then cleared his throat.

“Let me think about it,” he said, “I’m not saying no, okay? Let me think about it and talk with him.”

You nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

He shot you a small smile, then walked out of the café, leaving you alone there. You shut your eyes, leaning your head back and letting out a breath.

“Great,” you muttered, “This should be fun.”

Chapter 25

[lonely-lost-soul]

Little Fox

(C!Fundy x Reader)

Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!

Requested By: Anonymous

Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.

The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.

Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.

She was like him.

“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”

“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,

“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,

“Shifter?”

He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”

“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”

“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”

“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.

“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,

Oh no, she was so cute.

“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.

“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”

He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.

After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.

You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,

“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.

“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”

So, he did.

Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.

“Hello!”

You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”

“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”

“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”

“I’m-”

“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,

“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”

“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.

“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.

“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.

He was on edge.

Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”

“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”

“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”

“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”

“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”

“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.

“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,

“Don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.

“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.

“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.

“Kiss?”

“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s get married.”

“What?”

~~~

Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II

[flowersbby]

Drawn to You | Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Warning:  Makeout, This is a lil long (I got carried away)

Word count: 3859

It was a typical night for you. You had your music playing faintly in the background while you were writing notes for your anatomy & physiology class when you felt your phone vibrate violently on your desk, which caused your French bulldog, Royal, to wake up from his snoring slumber on your lap. With an annoyed huff, you pick up your phone and notice your best friend Rae had texted you numerous times.

Rae 😴

Hey!

Among Us!

Now!

Need 10th person!

Pleaseeeeee

You stared at the messages for a minute. You were confused on why she asked you of all people. You were the opposite of the many streaming friends she had who were loud, funny, and all around GOOD at games. Your shy character would not fit well on her stream and you knew that. Plus, the only games you’ve played are Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing, which requires no communication with people and you preferred it that way.

You

Why me? I’m in the middle of writing notes.

Rae 😴

There’s this person I want you to meet!

He’s really nice and you’ll warm up to the group in no time, I promise!

I won’t let them be mean to you 😤😤

They’re nice ppl anyway so they wont be mean lol

You

Okay.. let me load up my discord

Rae 😴

Yayy!

I already bought among us for you last time I was over so you’re good to go!

‘What? When did she find the time to buy the game for me? We were literally together the whole time she was here.’ You thought, but quickly dismissed it and loaded up discord. Right as you got online, you got an invite from Rae. You quickly grabbed your headset and adjusted your mic before joining the call. You petted Royal in an attempt to calm your nerves as you saw 9 peoples profile pictures appear in front of you. You only recognized Rae’s, of course.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Rae exclaimed, “Guys, this is my best friend (Y/N)! Introduce yourselves!”

“Hi, I’m Toast!” Said the man with the toast icon. You smiled at his profile picture. You found it cute.

“I’m Jack!” Said an Irish voice. You know Jack. You used to watch his videos a lot.

“I’m Poki!” Said a girl with a really sweet voice, “Nice to meet you!” You were about to say hello back when someone else chimed in.

“Hello, I’m Felix!” You recognized that Swedish accent. He was the most well known YouTuber, of course.

“Nice to meet you!” Said a really soft voice, “I’m Sykkuno!” His voice reminded you of an anime boy. You smiled to yourself.

“Hi, I’m Lily!” Said a really cute and high pitched voice. 

“Hi everyon-” You went to introduce yourself properly until you got cut off.

“I’m Corpse.” Said a deep, attractive voice. Your eyes widened for a second, his voice catching you off guard.

“H-hello,” You attempt to say hello again but this time you’re a little shaken up by Corpse’s voice, but you get it together by petting Royal once again. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you all!”

“Your voice is so adorable!” Says Lily. You smile at the fact that someone who’s voice is equally as adorable complimented yours.

“Thank you!” You respond, “Your voice is adorable too, Oh my God!” 

Lily giggles at your compliment. “Alright!” Exclaimed Rae, “Ready to play (N/N)?” You quickly realized you forgot to load up Among Us before hand. You were silently kicking yourself for not doing such a simple thing. Now they’re gonna have to wait longer to play because of you and they already waited long enough for you to join the discord call.

“Um..” You stall as you hurriedly click on the Among Us icon. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to load it up.. but it’s loading right now!” Your eyes are glued to the screen as if it’ll make the game boot up faster. 

“That’s okay.” Said Corpse in the most kind voice. “It won’t take that long.” You feel heat rushing to your cheeks just by hearing his voice. Who is this man and why is he making you feel like this?

They all agreed with Corpse and continued chatting about whatever they were chatting about before you joined the call. You were half listening as you were trying to figure out what to do as the game loaded up. Just as you were about to ask Rae, Corpse sent you the game code through a private message. You typed “Thank you!” as you quickly entered your name and then the game code.

“Woo! (Y/N)’s here!’ Said Rae happily. “Choose your color and your hat!” ‘Where do I do that?’ You thought to yourself but quickly found it. You wanted to be pink but it wouldn’t let you choose it.

“Why isn’t it letting me choose pink?” You asked. 

“It’s because Corpse is pink.” Explained Lily. “He took it from me too.” She said with a sad, but funny, tone.

“I can be a different color.” Corpse said and quickly changed his color from pink to white. 

“Oh, Thank you!” You said happily and picked a flower to match it.

“No problem.” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. It made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Are you kidding me?!” Said a laughing Lily. “I literally ARGUED with you about letting me have pink!”

“I sense something happening...” Cooed Rae in a sing songy voice. The whole group then erupted in “Ooooo’s”. This made you blush. You covered your face even though they couldn’t see you and Corpse chuckled, which only made you blush more.

Before the game started they all explained to you how to play so you wouldn’t be lost. This calmed your nerves a bit and when the game started you were happily going around the ship completing your tasks. Watering the plants was your favorite so far since you found it satisfying how the plants grew. You saw Corpse run up to you and you made your character step away a bit because you didn’t want to get killed. He instead ran circles around you and you decided to follow him for the rest of the game for safety. You both encountered Rae and Toast by the vending machines but didn’t think much of it and waited for Corpse to finish his task. Until Rae killed you and Toast killed Corpse. “A double kill?!” You shouted to yourself, causing Royal to wake up and slowly get off your lap. “I’m sorry buddy..” You said to him as he laid down in his dog bed. You turn your attention back to the screen as someone found you and Corpse’s dead bodies.

“Um, bodies found by the vending machines.” Said Felix who didn’t sound all too confident. “Jack where were you?” He asked.

“I was in..” As Jack was about to explain himself you heard a ‘pop’ emit from your headphones and saw a red dot by the messages icon. You clicked it and saw it was a message from Corpse. You completely stopped caring about the arguing going on through your headphones as Jack was trying to claim innocence.

“I like your flower :)” It read. You smiled big and immediately typed back.

Your fingers hovered over the keys thinking about what to type back but you settled on a simple “Thank you :D”.

After two games or so everyone got tired and decided to head out. You all said your goodbyes and watched as each person slowly began to leave the call. You didn’t want to leave until you were sure everybody was gone. Everybody left but Corpse. “Hey..” He said, sounding a little shy but it was probably just because he was tired.

“Hi!” You said a little too excited. You immediately wished you could reword what you said a little calmer.

“So, uh..” He began, “Could I possibly get your number? For Among Us games I mean?” He didn’t sound too sure of himself but him asking this made you beam with excitement.

“Of course.” You said calmer than before, “But I don’t know what help I’d be as I’m terrible at this game.” You giggled.

You typed in chat your number, your fingers shaking slightly. “Nah, I liked playing with you.” He said more confident, “You make it more fun. Even though I haven’t ever spoken to you before.” He chuckled. You smiled at his words. Butterflies formed in your stomach hearing him laugh.

You and Corpse chatted a bit more until he decided he should go, but you wished you guys could have kept talking the whole night. You felt this connection with him that you couldn’t put into words. It felt so easy for you to talk to him and you didn’t feel as nervous around him as the others you met today. There was something so calming about him that washed your fears away. You shook your head from the thoughts and told yourself that you just met him today, you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself but it was hard not to.

You were laying in your bed scrolling through twitter when you got a text.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey its corpse

is this (Y/N)?

Your heart skipped a beat. You were excited Corpse texted you so fast, hoping you two could continue talking.

You

That’s me!

I thought you were going to sleep?

Corpse🥺🖤

nah i hardly ever sleep i just left because i didnt want to keep you up

i really enjoyed playing with you

You

I enjoyed playing with you too

We should play together again soon

Corpse🥺🖤

definitely

You’ve begun to become really good friends with Corpse over the past week. You and him would facetime each other whenever you could. You always were on facetime with him, actually. Whenever you were studying, you guys were talking. Whenever he was editing, you guys were talking. When you were about to go to bed, you guys were talking. 

Right now, you guys were facetiming as you were studying for an upcoming exam and he was trying to stay awake. You liked having him around when you were studying even if it was through a phone. You didn’t feel pressured to talk or have to worry about an awkward silence with him. It was comfortable silence.

You started to worry that you were keeping him up, though. “You can go to bed if you want,” You said softly as you looked up from your textbook to the black screen propped up against a few books. “ I don’t want to keep you up. You need some rest.”

“No..” He muttered, “I like having you around..”

“I like having you around too Corpsie but we can talk when you wake up.” You told him a little sternly in an effort to convince him to go to bed.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked out of the blue.

You paused before answering and shifted your gaze to the black screen once again. “Yeah sure, go ahead.” 

“Do you want to maybe stay over here for a bit?” He asked, “Whenever you’re free, I mean. If you don’t want to I get that too I just feel so drawn to you I want you closer to me. Is that weird? I’m sorry if that’s weird. Actually, forget I said-”

“I’d love to come over.” You told him with a smile. “When would you want me to be there?”

“As soon as possible.” He said in his raspy, tired voice. Butterflies formed in your stomach and you felt your heart skip a beat. This man was something else.

“I can be over there in the morning..” You start, “I just have to pack and everything. Is it okay if I bring Royal? I don’t want to leave him with my sister.” You look over to Royal sleeping peacefully on your bed, snoring away.

“Hell yeah!” Corpse exclaimed, “I love animals! Bring him over.” You giggled at his excitement.

Corpse ended up falling asleep soon after and you ended the call. As you were getting ready for bed you began to think of what Corpse’s place would be like and what you guys would do. You were definitely going to show him Stardew Valley, that was for sure. You pondered the thought of you finally confessing to him that you wanted to be not just his friend, but girlfriend. You’ve been wanting to do it for awhile now but you get too scared and end up chickening out, so you figured if he liked you like you like him, he’d make the first move. You started to make up scenarios in your head about finally hanging out with Corpse in person as you drifted off to sleep, hearing Royal snoring peacefully in the background.

It was the next morning and as soon as you woke up you changed into your favorite outfit and began to pack. You didn’t know how long you were staying for but you decided to pack about 2 weeks worth of clothes just to be on the safe side. Royal was sitting on the floor watching you as you hurried from your closet to the suitcase on your bed. You were happily humming as you were excited about the day. You heard your phone buzz and you quickly grabbed it from your bed as you saw the name pop up on the screen.

Corpse🥺🖤

hey :) 

heres the address:

You

Thanks! and hello 😊

You two texted until you were ready to go. You were definitely NOT looking forward to driving two and a half hours from LA to San Diego but you were so excited to see Corpse that the dread of the long car ride washed away.

You put Royal into his harness and plopped him in the back seat. He looked at you confused since he rarely ever gets to go for rides in the car. “We’re going to see a friend!” You tell him while petting his head. He then laid down and began to close his eyes.

After what seemed like forever you were finally outside Corpse’s apartment. You grabbed Royal and attached his leash to his harness and then proceeded to grab your giant (and heavy) suitcase out of the trunk. You struggled getting the suitcase up the apartment building stairs but you managed. You felt a sense of relief that his apartment building had an elevator so you didn’t have to deal with more stairs. The ones at the entrance were enough. While you were waiting for the elevator to take you to his floor you took this opportunity to text him.

You

On my way up!

Almost immediately after you sent it he read it. He started typing but the three dots quickly disappeared. Before you could question it the elevator doors opened to his floor. “Come on, Bud!” You said to Royal and motioned for him to go ahead. Royal got up from his sitting stance and lead the way. After passing 2 other doors, you were at Corpse’s. You knocked two times.

You heard shuffling on the other side and the door knob turning shortly after. Before you knew it, Corpse was in front of you. His eyes were looking at yours. You immediately smiled. “Hi.” Corpse said with a slight smile as well.

“Hi..” You said shyly. You didn’t know how to react now that he was in front of you and not behind a screen. He stepped aside and motioned for you to come inside. You entered his apartment and set your suitcase by the couch. Royal was pawing at Corpse’s leg, begging for pets.

“Aww, hi buddy!” Corpse said excitedly. “He’s so well behaved.” Corpse was talking to you now.

“Yeah, it took work though.” You laughed slightly. “Your place is really nice.” You said as you looked around. You noticed all of his mirrors were covered up, but you decided not to ask him about that. He probably had his reasons.

“Thank you.” Corpse said as he looked at you. “You look pretty.”

You blushed and turned your head away from him so he couldn’t see your pink cheeks. “Thank you.”

Corpse cleared his throat, “So uh, I don’t have a guest bedroom so I’ll take the couch for however long you want to stay.”

You quickly shot your head at him. “No no no I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own apartment.” You argued with him.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” Corpse stated.

“Then we’ll share your bed.” You said with a shrug and headed towards his room to set your suitcase down, Royal following closely behind you. You didn’t see anything wrong with it. You and Rae share one whenever you guys sleep over at each other’s house and you thought this was no different

“O-okay.” He responded and quickly followed after you, “So, this is my room.” he said as you and him both entered.

“I like it!” You exclaimed as you looked around. You liked how dark it was in there. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. That smile.. You thought and quickly fumbled with your suitcase as you set it down by his closet. Corpse came closer to you.

“Can I give you a hug?” Corpse said a little shyly, as if I’d say no.

“Of course!” You said and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was taken aback but quickly put his hands around your waist. You caught a whiff of his mild cologne which made you want to stay in the hug a little longer. You didn’t want to be weird though and pulled away from the embrace.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” He said as he looked into your eyes. I could kiss him right now, oh my God. Your mind raced, but you managed to get out some words.

“I am, too.” You said.

It’s only been about a day since you’ve been over at Corpse’s. Sharing the bed seems to be no big deal as he barely seems to sleep. You so far liked being there with him.

Right now, you were on the phone with an overly excited Rae.

“You’re at his HOUSE?!” She yelled excitedly in your ear. Your face cringed a little bit from the yelling.

“Yeah,” You told her, “He has a really nice place.” You said as you scanned his living room.

“I knew you guys would hit it off!” Rae said, “I should be a matchmaker or something.” You blushed at her comment.

“Nothing’s happened yet.” You said quietly, not wanting Corpse to hear you.

“Girl, you’re at his house.” Rae said in a obvious tone. You rolled your eyes.

“This could just mean he likes having me over as a FRIEND.” You told her. You were hoping that wasn’t the case though and Corpse did have feelings for you. You smiled at the thought.

“You are so oblivious.” Rae said with a sigh, “Anyway, I gotta go workout. Love ya! Hope everything goes well!” She said the last part in her sing songy voice.

“Love you too!” You said back and ended the call. What do I do now? You thought. Corpse was streaming so you couldn’t hangout with him right now and your physics class isn’t till a few hours. You were hungry, though, and decided to cook some lunch for you and Corpse. It’ll be a nice surprise for him. You smiled at the thought.

You made your delicious Dorito taco salad that you love so much. You made a bowl for Corpse as well and took it to his room where he resided. He didn’t seem to be streaming anymore and was just scrolling through Twitter on his computer.

“I come with food!” You say as you place the bowl down in front of him. You seem to have startled him as he jumped slightly when you spoke. He examined the bowl suspiciously.

“What is this?” He says cautiously of your creation.

“It’s Dorito taco salad.” You explain, “It has crushed up Doritos, of course, shredded chicken, lettuce, olives, and sour cream in it.” He seemed to be skeptical of it, which was a given every time you made it for someone new, but people ended up loving it when they tasted it. You were confused as to how many people found it weird since your mom made it for you when you were a kid a ton, so you were used to the delicious lunch dish.

“Okay.” He said and took a bite of it. His eyes lit up. “Oh my god, this is so good!” He exclaimed and took another bite. You giggled with excitement that he loved it like you did.

You both ate together and laid down on the bed as you talked about random things that were going on in your lives. You guys were laughing at a joke Corpse said until Corpse got serious.

“I have to tell you something.” Corpse said and looked into your eyes.

“Okay,” You said confused, “Go ahead.”

He took a deep breath. “I like you.” He confessed, “Like, romantically. I have for awhile now actually and I don’t know what it is about you and I thought I was done with love but you make me feel so happy and different from anyone else I’ve talked to. You don’t have to feel the same way but I couldn’t keep my feelings in for any longer.”

You paused for a moment. Is this actually happening? Are you in a dream? “I like you too, Corpse.” You say softly. His eyes beam with excitement..

“Really?” He asks.

You laugh at his bewilderment. “Yes, really!”

He tackles you in a hug on the bed. You giggle from his excitement. He’s on top of you and he lifts his head up from your neck to look you in the eyes. You get a rush of emotions as you see the care and love in his eyes as he’s looking at you.

You blurt out what you were thinking in that exact moment. “Kiss me.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. One hand is holding him up on the bed as the other is cupping your cheek. You take one hand and tangle it in his hair. This causes him to deepen the kiss with you. The kiss turns rough. You’re both so in the moment you don’t want to come up for air but you guys manage to keep going by taking in air when your lips part for brief moments. The hand that was cupping your cheek is now next to your head, taking the responsibility of holding him up. The other hand is trailing up and down your thigh, squeezing your thigh tightly ever so often. You eventually break the heated kiss and look up at him. You were hoping he could see the love you had for him in your eyes.

“I liked that.” You say smiling.

He chuckled at your words. “I like it too.”

[brackenfur]

au starting from lost stars/one non canon event mentioned but i cant stop thinking abt a scene where bramblestar slips up abt thinking abt killing firestar in sunset n how squirrel would react to that. this is a very quick drabble aka its not rly thought out or edited, i jsut needed to write and get it out somewhere ! i also cant rly definitively say that everything abt bramblestars version of events/what squirrelflight knew abt the foxtrap scene is canon-accurate since its been a minute since ive read tnp + that time period is extremely muddled in terms of which author writes it and what any cat outside of bramblestar ACTUALLY knows.

anyways tysm for reading <3

"i've sacrificed everything for this relationship, for you," bramblestar snaps, eyes that were at one moment dim and exhausted from his oncoming illness now alight with anger. "you don't even know how much pressure i was under all those years ago, after we got back together and i became deputy. i was dealing with my new position, with thunderclan's mistrust, with hawkfrost telling me to-" and he stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening just slightly as he realizes he let something slip.

squirrelflight blinks, deeply uncomfortable by his reaction. she knows that he and hawkfrost kept communicating after she and bramblestar got back together, and she knows to this day that hawkfrost never had good intentions - but there is something about the way bramblestar looks away from her, how his fur prickles along his spine, that makes her think there's more to this story.

"hawkfrost telling you to what?" she tries to keep up her bravado and confrontational tone so he doesn't detect how disturbed she's becoming, but her voice wavers. "what are you talking about?"

"nothing," he says too quickly, shaking his head. "it doesn't matter. i'm tired, squirrelflight; this leafbare is the worst i've seen, and i'm not feeling my best, either. you know that - i've been so sick, and-"

"yes, you are sick, and i've told you to rest," she reminds him, cutting him off. "and i'm sorry about that, but what are you talking about with hawkfrost?"

"i said it was nothing."

"it doesn't look like it was nothing."

bramblestar sets his jaw, shaking his head. "you know how he was. i was just going to say that he was just trying to pressure me to stop talking to you, that's it."

it doesn't feel like that was it. she has no love for hawkfrost and doesn't particularly care that he didn't like her much either - but bramblestar wouldn't be so upset and secretive about something that trivial. there's more.

"you're not telling me something," she says finally. "i know you - or, i mean, i think i know you. you're hiding something from me about hawkfrost, and i swear to starclan - we just had a conversation the other night about being truthful."

"i've always been truthful."

"it seems like you're not right now, though. i've laid out all of my secrets and told you every bad thing i've done - i've let the whole forest know my demons. not by choice, but what's done is done. there's something you're not telling me about hawkfrost - and don't tell me he didn't like me, we all know that. what was he telling you to do?"

he twitches his whiskers. "squirrelflight, you need to drop it."

this just makes her more angry. "i've told you everything i've done and you're always going on about how we need to stay truthful to each other to make this work - whatever it is, i'll listen to you about it. i know how hawkfrost was - did he want you to take over the forest, or something? i know he talked to mudclaw about things like that; he wasn't subtle about his plans to be tigerstar junior."

bramblestar looks deeply uncomfortable. "i didn't do what he wanted me to do, you know i didn't," he finally says after what seems like an hour; she blinks, unsure of what he's talking about.

"what do you mean? like...yeah, you didn't take over-"

"he wanted me to become thunderclan's leader. that's it. now, please, just drop it."

she frowns. she kind of expected that, but there's....a deep shame in his eyes, and she thinks there's an element to this story he's not saying. he's being evasive and private, and her heart begins to beat harder when she really, really thinks back on all those years ago.

a memory surfaces, one that she always thought about with pain and yet an underlying feeling of pride - for brambleclaw, for her mate, for saving her father....

it hits her then. she always thought that the foxtrap was brambleclaw's moment of undying loyalty to her father - stumbling upon hawkfrost about to kill firestar, and immediately jumping to his defense. that's always how he told it, anyways; he knew what hawkfrost wanted to do, and put an end to it.

but there were always these underlying moments that she couldn't quite place over the years - some type of underlying shame and embarrassment that she just chalked up to grief for his brother.

they look at each other, and she tries to keep calm. "when you found my father in the foxtrap," she says slowly. "did you think about letting hawkfrost kill him?"

bramblestar's beat of silence is all she needed to know; he immediately tries recovering it, though.

"squirrelflight, i would've never done that- hawkfrost and tigerstar were-"

"tigerstar? what does your father have to do with this?"

bramblestar is very quiet; she thinks that the world around them is completely silent as they stand in the middle of a snowy clearing. the cold usually heightens the sounds in the air, but in this moment all squirrelflight can hear is the thudding of her own heart.

bramblestar seems like he's trying to piece his thoughts together carefully; she forces herself to wait until he finally says: "i was never going to do it," he says, voice tight with emotion. "squirrelflight, i loved your father - you know that." she can barely hear him anymore as she finally grasps what exactly he's telling her. "my father and my brother- you've heard about how they are from lionblaze and ivypool and the others that went to the dark forest, how could i have- they were my family once, i thought that maybe-"

so that was his big secret, the one that he never meant for her to uncover. everything makes a little more sense now; the guilt and shame in bramblestar's eyes for those first seasons after hawkfrost's death whenever he'd look at firestar, the overcompensation bramblestar tried to preform as deputy. it wasn't because he felt like he allowed his brother to cause harm to firestar before saving him, it was-

"hawkfrost told you to kill firestar," she says softly, looking up at her mate. "but that- if it was just that, you would have told me, not lead me to believe that hawkfrost was the one who wanted to do it all along," she feels herself shaking as the shame begins to come back into bramblestar's expression. "you thought about, didn't you? about killing my father so you could become leader?"

bramblestar gives one moment of hesitation, and she shakes her head.

"i'm going to be sick," she says quickly, stepping away from him.

"i didn't hurt him. it wasn't-"

"this whole time, you've shamed me and made me feel like the worst cat that's been born because i kept a secret for my sister," she almost spits, her fur raising. "i don't know if i was morally right or wrong, i don't know what anyone else would do in my paws during that time - but you made me feel like i was worthless for a year because i protected leafpool, and now i finally get to know that you not only met up frequently with tigerstar but that you actually- you thought about killing my father. you thought about hurting firestar just so you could become leader."

ashfur's jibe all those years ago suddenly makes more sense - after the fire, the way he bumped into her with his shoulder and sneered you don't really even know your own mate, do you?

who knew that even after all this time after his death, ashfur still got the last laugh.

[ahtsumu]

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: a year in review.

tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu​ ​! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u

1.

he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.

“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”

cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.

he’s gorgeous.

“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.

to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”

2.

learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.

you get it.

you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.

miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.

3.

seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.

(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)

“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”

4.

it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.

“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.

“… nothing.”

“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.

“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.

osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

5.

the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”

there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.

maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…

and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.

you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.

6.

how do you know it’s love?

you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.

he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.

“that’s how i know,” he says.

7.

when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.

“babe?” you call out.

a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.

the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.

you clear your throat. “hey, you.”

smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.

“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”

the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”

8.

what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.

he does.

(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”

“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.

osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.

“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)

osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.

9.

and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.

“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”

osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”

you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”

he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”

“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”

“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”

10.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.

the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.

but it’d be a great place to start.

“god, you’re so beautiful.”

11.

when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.

“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.

jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.

“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”

osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.

his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”

“‘samu–”

“or at least let me give you a little massage.”

12.

“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”

osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“how romantic.”

“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”

he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.

[velvetcloxds]

IT’S POETIC| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x Reader

Warnings: none that I can think off, reader gets bit so there's blood

Summary: Reader is fighting with Scott and Stiles after Scott bit her by accident and in the panic of the situation the reader goes to Derek's loft for help.

"Call Derek!" I shout looking down at my stomach. Feeling the warm liquid drench the shirt in my grip. I look up to see Stiles and Scott staring at me bewildered. "Call him!" I repeat with the same urgency.

"We don't need him. We can handle this on our own." Scott replies carefully.

"Really, Scott? Can you really?" I step forward and Scott steps back as soon as I do. "You bloody bit me!" I yell angrily lifting my shirt to reveal the remnants of the bite-marks.

"Not on purpose!" He shouts back, lifting his hands up in defense as Stiles just looks out of the window, amusement in his eyes as he conceals a guilty smile.

"That seems to be a recurring issue for you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, well we didn't call him last time either." Scott replies with a shrug as he looks to Stiles who simply shakes his head.

"Yeah and that went marvelously well," Stiles chimes in, catching my eye as he walks towards me. He bends down to look at the wound and looks away immediately. "Maybe she's right." He mumbles while covering his mouth to force down a gag.

"I can't call him in for a favour in the middle of the night, what if we wait until tomorrow and I can take you to see Deaton?" He questions, although the stern look in my eyes leaves no need for reply. "Y/n..." He groans pulling a hand through his hair.

"What? Am I being difficult Scott? Am I being a bit dramatic over the fact that you accidentally made a decision that could change my entire life?" I demand bitterly and I see Scott hover as he searches for an answer. I sigh grabbing my jacket and pulling it over my shoulders to hide the blood before turning to face the boys. "Screw it, I'll go to him myself." I push passed them and ignore their objecting opinions as I rush out of the house and into my car.

The ride to the loft seemed to take forever as my mind spun in a continues circle, trying desperately to come to terms with what just happened. Not that it would come easy at all. I only found out about all of this a few months ago and now I'm being thrown into this world head first with no clue how to land on my feet. There was no part of me that ever for one second liked the idea of being a werewolf, partly because the second you get the bite you step onto a permanent battlefield. And realistically speaking I wasn't ready for any of it. I'm not willingly going to put myself in endless danger in order to protect everyone and the sharp pain settling in my stomach won't change that.

I pull the jacket tighter around my body forcing the sides together with one hand while the other furiously bangs against the metal door. "Derek!" I shout stopping the knocking briefly before continuing when there's no reply. "Derek!" I repeat with less volume and more desperation as I see blood staining my jacket as well. I pull away from the door and throw the jacket to the ground to push pressure onto the wound. My hands digging against the ripped flesh without any results, but I force down even harder, needing to catch my breath as the pain deepens.

"Y/n?" A voice asks and I look up to see the door wide open with a confused Derek looking at me.

"It won't stop bleeding," I comment quickly, looking down at my hands. "It won't stop-" I feel my hands start shaking and it only makes me try harder to keep them still. "It won't stop bleeding." I repeat and I hear his feet shuffle towards me before his own hands come into view, covering mine to take them off of my stomach.

"Breathe," He whispers as my hands drop to my sides. I do as I'm told, focusing on inhaling slowly to let the sudden urge of panic fade. "What happened?" He asks when I finally look up at him.

"Scott." I reply dryly, shakily lifting the shirt to reveal the settling marks of teeth. He nods quickly before turning to walk into the loft and I follow him eagerly. My hands slip over the red button to rearm the alarm before I sit down on his bed.

"Take off your shirt," He demands and I hover momentarily before he kneels down in front of me with a new shirt and a bunch of towels in his arms. "It'll heal eventually, but we need to clean you up." I nod slowly before briskly bringing the shirt over my head.

His actions are delicate as he silently clears the blood from the wound, lightly pushing onto the surface of my skin to soak up most of the dampness. He does this for a while until the bleeding finally stops, leaving nothing but a fresh wound in view. His fingers move over the spot slowly, stopping only when our eyes meet.

"It's healing," I state lifting my hand to his, feeling the muscles tighten when our fingers brush against each other. I scoff softly. "I can feel it." He simply nods before leaning forward to help me pull one of his shirts on and a sense of familiarity fills my mind as the scent surrounds me.

I allow the strange comfort to embrace me for a brief moment before I feel the bed tilt beside me. He sits down quietly, leaving a small amount of space between us as our shoulders timidly rest against each other.

"You're going to be okay." He says suddenly, surprising me.

"Depends on your version of okay." I retort and I bite down at my lip to hide the bitterness begging to escape pass them.

"You're not dying," He turns to me and an unexpected urgency sparkles in his eyes as he looks at me. "You could be dying and you're not. You're going to be okay." I turn my body against his, folding my legs under me as I move onto the bed more.

"But I'll be like you. I don't want to be like you." I say softly and he turns his body as well.

"Well I won't be like that for much longer." He whispers and I watch him close his eyes, opening them to reveal pools of gold sparkling in the darkness a clear contrast to the drowning sapphire they used to be. A small gasp leaves my lips at the sight and my mind screams with thousands of questions. But instead of asking any of them I reach up to his face allowing my fingers to faintly hover above his eyelashes.

"What does this mean?" I question in a hushed tone keeping my hand still only for him to nimbly take hold of my wrist restraining me while also sinking both out arms to his lap.

"Alone it could mean nothing. But paired with the loss of my sense of smell, the human like healing and the inability to shift completely..."

"You're losing your powers," I complete and he nods. Guilt rushes into my heart as soon as the realization sets in. Here I was making a big scene because I've been forced to become a werewolf all while Derek is losing something that's been part of him for his entire life. "Derek..."

"You didn't know."

"What will happen if you lose it. Will you be a human?"

"Or I'll be dead," He states bluntly and I inhale sharply at the lack of emotion to which he looks at me. His hand slips from my wrist to my palm and I soon feel his fingers tangling with mine. "Why did you come here, Y/n? Scott's been through this before, he knows what to do."

"I don't know," I answer honestly my eyes remaining focused on our entwined hands. "Maybe a part me just knew I could trust you," I trail my gaze to meet his. "Maybe part of me knew you shouldn't be alone."

"You barely know me. "

"But I'm here and you're here," I bring my other hand up to his chest feeling the slow movement of his breathing. "And neither of us needs to be alone. It's almost poetic." I comment willing my heart to settle as he leans forward in a subtly movement.

"Like death..." He adds and a smile plays with his lips when he looks over at me. His fingers abandon mine and in a rapid gesture I'm pulled onto his lap with my body pressed against his.

"Like kissing." I add feeling the hand on my back securing me in a soft yet strong hold. My breathing quickens as a respond to his touch but also slows as soon as I feel his lips connecting with mine. A rush of electricity spins into my body creating a trail of cold shivers along my spine. I grasp onto his shoulders when his lips leave mine and he watches with a smirk as a shade of rose tints my cheeks.

"Like your lips," He comments using his other hand to turn my head back towards him looking up at me due to my position. "I'm glad you came here." His fingers trace over my lips gently before he slowly guides me back onto the bed adding a good amount of distance between us with emits a groan from me due to the sudden coldness filling my body.

A steady smirk remains on his lips while he grabs a pillow and a blanket from the bed before getting up and walking over to the couch where he settles himself with ease.

"No more poetry?" I question pulling my legs against my chest.

"Maybe tomorrow," He states quickly glancing down at my stomach before locking eyes with me. "Definitely tomorrow."

I nod to myself, understanding what he means and suddenly the fear from earlier streams back into my mind reminding me why I'm here in the first place. But at the same time a new unfamiliar ease fills my heart. I crawl to the top of the bed pulling the blanket over my legs as my head sinks into the pillow, the same sweet scent surrounding me.

"Derek?" I question and he hums in reply. "I think you're going to be okay too." He laughs softly making me smile slightly before I close my eyes.

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

Masterlist

[moonbaby26]

Title: Night of the Storm

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Weeks after Loki’s last appearance you were finally beginning to give up hope, only to find you’d been on his mind all along as he lures you into being alone with him late one night. His other side shows more of itself as things quickly turn into relieving that pent up physical need.

Warnings: People drowning. Also *here comes the smut.* But the start and finish of it is still marked in red within the chapter if you want to skip that part. I know everyone has their own comfort levels. The only thing in this though that I would even consider slight kink is just a bit of biting and tiny bit of blood from that, like really small. Otherwise it’s just needy gods doing what needy gods do.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername

My Masterlist

——————————

You had replayed your last words with Loki over and over so many times in your head. Had you been too forward after all? Was it too presumptuous to think anything could really come of such a random acquaintanceship?

The more days that passed, the more you questioned what you really remembered of your brief time together versus what you may have only imagined in your optimism.

The night he left, you remembered feeling so sure that he would return. Maybe you weren’t certain in what way he would want to see you next, but you had at least felt he would set foot in your home he called Midgard again. And that he would call your name to the waves once more.

So when the days eventually stretched into weeks with no further sign of him, you had to accept the possibility that you were very wrong on your assumptions.

As you stared upward now from the deep ocean, the blackness all around was only penetrated by the briefest strobes of white. The occasional lightning’s flash silhouetting the wooden ship hulls rising and falling far above you.

It was so late into the night, but your Father’s anger cared not for time. The captain of the fleet above had committed the sin of hubris. He had declared himself a master of the sea after too many trips safely across, and now your Father’s storms aimed to remind this man of a harsh truth.

Your uncle Hades would surely claim souls tonight, one way or another. That was already decided per Father’s orders. But should they all die, then none of the men could carry on this message, this teaching moment either.

So you waited, and you listened. Who among them would plead for intervention as the waters first breached their ships? Father could show his wrath, but he’d sent you to show the other side as well.

Mercy from the gods. Whichever ship contained the most believers, whichever prayed the hardest, that was the one Father had asked you to spare.

But the rest....you could only watch as their bodies joined you one by one in the darkness. And you knew soon that they would only find themselves upon the banks of the river Styx.

You bid the nymphs to comfort the men as best they could, to accept fate rather than fight it. The ocean above was simply rage, but down in this abyss they would only know peace.

When the chosen surviving ship had emerged in your mind though, you pushed only that one forward. The waves began to miss it, ignore it even as the ship fully righted.

“Follow them all the way to their home shores,” You commanded the nymphs. “Let none from that vessel drown under your guard.”

“Yes, goddess.” They answered, swimming quickly to join the now fleeing ship. These mortals would return home with tales of their brush with death. But they would also remember as their prayers had parted the seas only for them.

Yet you felt no satisfaction, even with your duty to your Father done. Your distraction still lingered as you only sank further away from the storm’s flashes in the time afterward, to the colder depths where you intended to again sleep alone.

Floating, suspended in the blackness as you’d closed your eyes, to any that could have somehow seen you, you would have looked most like a corpse as well. Albeit intact, unmarred, and with that smallest pulse of life as the thin slits on your neck pulled in those tiny breaths.

But after only a little while you’d opened your eyes again into the void. Because you felt that someone was watching you. It would seem impossible, but you were so certain of this fact so abruptly then that you called out, your magic giving your words wide presence even within the water.

“And what being are you that should watch a goddess as she tries to sleep? Do you now judge my actions invisible one?”

You waited, but of course the void would not answer back, could not even as the feeling of some ethereal eye upon you would not leave.

What did it want from you?

“Milady!”

You startled harshly, even the distant voice of a nymph shocking you at this depth. She couldn’t reach you though, so you had to swim back upward to her.

When you neared further back towards the surface a quick moving fish cut across your vision. It circled, panicked, and calling again. A younger nymph who could not yet take on any larger form. “Milady, thank goodness I found you. Loki has finally returned! But he is injured!”

That was the last of anything you had expected. But you ordered her to stay where it was safe, to only join the others once more before you tore off into the darkness to head for shore.

———————————

As you emerged from the waves, they crashed rough against your back. You hadn’t realized father’s storms had stretched this far. The rain stung against your now exposed skin as you walked onto the beach in the downpour. Loki had never come at night before. And for it to be now no less, in this tempest, you breathed as you looked around for him in the darkness. But you heard nothing over the wind and waves.

“Loki!” You called.

At last you saw a shadow somehow darker than the rest, shifting then just within the tree line. You hurried towards it.

“They said you were injured!” You spoke over the storm.

“I’m fine.” He grumbled, though seemingly more agitated at the rain as he looked all like a drenched rat fallen off a moor line now, making you wonder how long he’d really been waiting for you here.

“I know a place, come on,” You insisted.

But even in these circumstances, you hesitated to touch him, yet knowing it would have been far easier to guide him if you could have only taken his arm. But you did your best to lead him regardless, further along the shore until you came upon the cave opening you were seeking.

“Even during high tide it stays dry in here,” You explained, now finally able to speak at a more normal volume with the sounds of the storm muted somewhat as you went farther back into the cavern together.

Yet light would be an issue, as you were already looking around for a way to at least make a fire.

But to your surprise one started from nothing, in the center of the cave now flickering as the light then shown on you both.

Loki lowered his hand afterward, evidently having just used some other kind of magic you weren’t aware of.

But as you turned to him, you could now see the deep bruising on his face even in the firelight.

“You said you weren’t hurt.” You spoke, that tone of concern not hidden.

“It is minor.” He answered, but offered nothing more.

You waited for one long moment, before finally deciding that any notion of privacy he may hold was now overshadowed by the obvious need for some explanation. “Minor enough to come here in the dead of night in the middle of a near hurricane?”

He gave you an odd look, but you didn’t shrink back.

“I only had another large, predictable argument with my brother.” He finally said. “He decided to help solve things in the only way he knows how. I used magic, he used his fists, and here I am.” Loki had already started to try and smooth his wind mussed hair back into place though, some vanity evident there even as he continued. “And this was only one of few places he would not follow me. Brother has no interest in this part of Midgard currently. He at least allows me this.”

“I see.” You answered, though feeling something was still not right here even as you tried to choose your next course of action carefully. “Would you like help drying off at least then?” You asked.

“You insinuate that you can control rainwater as well?” He questioned skeptically.

“Only if it’s made by one of my father’s storms, yes. Which this clearly was.” You replied, raising your own hands as you willed the water to leave him. And it did lift from his hair, from his clothes, even his skin as the reformed droplets floated strangely in midair before you cast them back out the cave entrance with another flick of your hands.

He watched the water leave with the slightest bit of interest before turning his attention fully back to you then.

“And what is your dear father so unhappy with tonight?” Loki asked, adjusting his now at least somewhat dryer clothing. You couldn’t pull out every bit of dampness true, but it was far better than being completely drenched.

“He felt a mortal had lost respect for the dangers of the seas.” You answered plainly.

But Loki actually was silent for a moment at that as only a dark smirk crossed his features. That little knot in your stomach seemed to tighten at the sight.

“And they say I’m petty.” He finally said. “How many mortals did you really let drown tonight, goddess?”

“So it was you.” You said abruptly, accusing him then and there as you neared closer. “You were watching me!”

“No.” He corrected, though looking pleased none the less that you had made the connection so quickly. “Heimdall was. Yet by my request.”

“Why?” You questioned, but not really knowing what to feel as a mix of anger and embarrassment rose in your confusion.

“I wanted to know if your parting words held any truth. And if you’d grow restless the longer I waited to return.” He smiled then, but there was still a cruelty to it. “Yet that show I did not expect. Heimdall can be quite good at relaying details when pressed. And sparing only the mortals that plead for you tonight, letting the rest become food for your sea beasts....ah, and yet with your servants still comforting the damned. It was really quite a finishing touch.”

“So this is the kind of god you are then?” You asked sharply, though still not sure what you’d really expected.

“I am.” He offered. “And I also am not.”

You tensed, patience truly beginning to wane. “There is no point to speak in riddles to me. What is your real intention here Asgardian?”

“Tsk. Now you wound? I am only back to the Asgardian again?” He tilted his head slightly. “No, you tell me. Why did you leave the protection of your seas so quickly at only the word I was wounded, so panicked that you did not even think to bring that spear of yours?”

Your eyes widened slightly, that realization only just hitting you with his question. It hadn’t crossed your mind once to bring it, even now as he stood so near with that growing look of triumph in his eyes.

“You play games with me.” You retorted, even as you watched those fake bruises now fade from his pale skin.

“And now I know what you would do if it were all true,” he answered, yet with that smirk returning.

“I could fill this entire cave and drown you where you stand you know.” You countered.

“You could try,” He agreed. “But you won’t.”

“You presume too much.” He was becoming maddening. Everything you said, he only grew bolder, he taunted harder. And the worst of it all was, you were not really fighting back. Why were you not fighting back?

“You missed me, goddess. It isn’t that hard to deduce. Not anymore. You wanted this.” He finally said. “And if it’s all the same, I share that frustration. I kept away long enough to be sure. But watching you, knowing what you’re willing to do...I wanted to come back and see it first hand.”

And in all these weeks, tonight wasn’t the only night you’d let mortals perish in Father’s name, or even caused it yourself as you’d manipulated the seas on his orders. And was that really what excited Loki tonight? Seeing you use your powers to this darker extent?

“Is this really how Asgardians flirt? Over the bodies of the innocent?” You asked, unable to keep yourself to sane words any longer. It had all gone too far so quickly.

“I am not all Asgardians. And you and I both know there is no such thing as innocence.” He murmured just as his hands first touched you, taking your wrists. The grasp of his long fingers was surprisingly cold. That chill honestly the first thing you noticed, even as you didn’t push him away.

You watched only his eyes for that moment. And in your own awe you realized he was actually still waiting for you to deny him. You were being given a choice here. But you didn’t refuse him. You couldn’t. You’d already thought of this possibility more than once in your many nights alone.

And it was only you who closed the gap first as you took his lips in yours. You felt him tense briefly though, as if he was still somewhat surprised himself before he returned the motion in full force.

****SMUT INCOMING, KEEP SCROLLING IF WISHING TO SKIP

The rock wall of the cave soon met your back as he pressed you against it. It hurt somewhat, but you weren’t made of glass.

As he pinned your arms against the wall as well, his tongue pressed its way into your mouth. But the taste of him was something you only wanted more of then. Yet when your own tongue fought quickly back, you felt him pull away just enough to look into your eyes once more.

His face hovered only inches from your own as he eyed you hungrily. “You realize I won’t be able to stop once this starts. It’s been far too long. Speak now...or be silent save for saying my praises, goddess.”

“Prideful beast,” You breathed, shifting in his grip. “You think I do this each night either? Try closer to never.”

He seemed even more goaded at that, pleased at the revelation, “Then tell me what you want, (Y/N).”

“You.” You answered immediately, reservation shattered as his body pressed further against your own.

“Then I shall enjoy the privilege.” He whispered huskily, and you leaned your head back just as you felt him bite suddenly after, his mouth rough on your neck. You were sure he was testing if marks could be made on your skin, trying to claim it any way he could now as he pressed a little harder and harder with those teeth.

The juxtaposition of a man who would sit with you for hours only reading, versus this possessive creature he was now shifting towards was so very interesting.

And as he released your wrists, his hands only moved to the straps of your dress next. Yanking them from your shoulders, and sliding the thin fabric easily from your chest, exposing your breasts to his groping touch before his mouth moved over your chest.

As he roughly kissed one breast, his hand squeezed the other tightly. In another too fast movement though, his other hand had now already pulled the rest of your dress away. He pulled you from the wall just enough for it to fall around your ankles then as you realized just how quickly he’d rendered you fully nude here before him. All while you’d only been nearly still, too wrapped up in the desperate feel of it all.

After the dress had fallen though, he did pull back not long after, seeming to admire the view for a moment before his hand then went between your legs.

“I wondered how much you’d taste of the sea,” He murmured, licking that slight residue of salt from his lips as his fingers massaged your entrance.

You opened your legs a little more, leaning further back against the wall to help support yourself as those little flicks and movements of his fingers weakened you further.

“You have entirely too many clothes on,” You panted quietly, not caring if your tone sounded more like pleading in that moment.

“You just want me in you already, don’t you, goddess?” He all but growled, taunting you even as he slipped his fingers inside then.

Before you could hope to really answer, he was kissing you again though, his tongue probing nearly as hard as his fingers were pressing below.

You could feel the resistance decreasing though, the more your inner wetness grew and his fingers slid in and out all the quicker. Something he no doubt could feel as well as he broke the kiss once more.

“Beg me then,” He commanded against your ear.

Even in your own need, you were realizing how much he wanted to be in control. Power aroused him, just as he’d evidently been watching you exert your own in all these days, and just as he wanted to feel dominant over you now.

But you also knew how little you cared either way in this moment. You wanted him to be satisfied just as much as you wanted your own release.

“I want you,” You tried again, locking eyes with him once more. But as you tried to reach for his clothing he only caught your hand in his free one.

“Not good enough,” He reiterated, needing more.

It was hard to think in depth though as his other hand only kept moving just enough to keep you stimulated, but not enough to finish you off.

But alright, you could play this game if you had to. You growled a little yourself, “Fuck me, Loki”. That’s what he wanted to hear wasn’t it? You could see that desperate look in his eyes grow and you knew you about had him. In the moment though, you added one more thing, this time being quick enough with your hand to grab hold of his crotch before he could stop you. “Do it, King. Fuck me.”

He let out another sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan as he pulled his fingers out from you before grabbing you by the arms to force you away from the wall entirely.

He released you only brief enough to face his palms towards his own body. The dark green cloak he wore separated at once from his other clothing, it then splaying out across the floor of the cave. And with another motion his black leather unwrapped itself, almost like invisible hands pulling it all from him as he stepped out of his boots. Then at once he was to you again as the rest of his clothing folded itself neatly out of the way.

But you wished time would slow down in that moment, yourself trying to see every detail of his naked form in the firelight before his body slammed back against yours. That vivid white skin, lean, but surprising you with the musculature that had still been hiding there.

In the ocean, you knew well that it wasn’t always the biggest, bulkiest predators to fear the most. Some of the leaner, faster ones could have your throat ripped out long before the others should you let them in too close.

And his mouth met yours just as harshly then, urging you down to lay on your back upon his cloak on the cave floor.

If your back was bruised later, you hardly cared, as you wrapped your legs around him and he laid his weight upon you. Your hands were free now, and you gladly used them, running them through his hair, and up and down his body to feel all you could of him. He was smooth, with that chill to him that was still so unique.

You found his already strong erection as well, stroking it with one hand as your other moved back into his hair. You held the back of his head as he moved down again to suck at your collarbone, his fingers digging into your hips harshly as he thrust against your hand, urging you to guide him in.

And you were more than ready, allowing him to push inside as you angled him as deep as he could go.

He took full advantage at once too, pulling almost all the way back out before slamming back inside as you gasped.

He lifted up onto his elbows enough to look you in the eyes as he pulled out again, before repeating the second harsh thrust, then a third, and a fourth.

It ached, yet somehow you couldn’t imagine this any other way tonight. He wanted to claim you now, as hard and thoroughly as he could.

And you could take it as you breathed his name. You wanted him to let out all his frustration as your hands moved to his back and your nails dug into his shoulders with each faster thrust.

He bore his teeth with a hiss of pain as your nails finally broke his skin. But he liked it you knew, even as he bit down on your shoulder in return.

You felt the pressure, maybe a little stinging, but your back only arched into him as his hips continued to slam against you mercilessly.

As his mouth let go of you again though, and he lifted up, manhood still inside you, you could see that slightest bit of gold ichor on his lips. The blood of the Olympians. Your blood.

He smiled, knowing full well what he’d done in his haze of lust. “Is that what the remnants of ambrosia tastes like?” He whispered, licking his lips.

Contact with ichor could kill any mortal outright, and here he was playing with it. Yet you truly had no idea what its effects could be on an Asgardian. “You do take risks, don’t you, King?”

He made a pleasured sound, still thoroughly enjoying that word out of your mouth as he grabbed your breasts again, thrusting hard once more. “Only when the odds favor me, goddess.”

Your muscles were tensing though, as he squeezed your breasts and changed his angle slightly to rub more against that sensitive bundle of nerves at your entrance as his cock slid in and out.

You couldn’t know what you really looked like to him right now, sprawled out on your back beneath him, laying on his own cloak as he fucked you like he’d never have the chance again.

But you could see his own expression, and his eyes were so intense, like under a spell of euphoria as his breath grew more rapid.

Would he pull out you wondered? Did you even want him to?

“Loki,” You spoke, raising your hand up to the side of his face gently, even though you realized his own red blood now dotted your fingernails.

He surprised you when he only turned his face enough to kiss your hand though, still watching you even as you felt him jerk inside you abruptly. You saw him shudder as that orgasm went through him, and you felt his seed pulsing out deep inside you.

But even as he came, his hand went back to your entrance, bidding you to do the same as he tormented your clit. You’d been on that edge for so long, it was easy to finally let go as you trembled beneath him, getting your own release then.

And even then he still didn’t pull out. He only tugged you so that you both rolled onto your sides on his cloak, still facing one another.

You were both breathing rather hard now, and you truly wanted to close your eyes to rest for a moment, but you felt his fingers edging along the side of your face as you opened your eyes again.

He kissed you once more, and you could taste that sweetness that you knew was indeed the leftovers of your own blood.

*

*

****SMUT DONE, CAN KEEP READING HERE

“Have you been sated?” You asked, reaching up to run your thumb across his bottom lip.

He grinned slightly at the touch. “To say yes would only be another lie now wouldn’t it? I am never sated, dear. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t thoroughly enjoy this.”

With that he reached out enough to touch his hand to the cloak beneath you. You felt the material shift before the sides of it suddenly extended, wrapping around you both like a blanket in the cool cave.

More of his own magic no doubt, but there were no complaints from you as you just rested your head against him, closing your eyes again. He allowed it, so you supposed he was also too tired to do anything differently.

You weren’t sure for how long he would actually stay this way. But for now you would only take comfort in this rarity of intimacy as best you could, breathing in his scent, and savoring the feel of his skin still against yours.

———————————-

It was only the extremely persistent calling of seagulls that finally woke you. Groggily you yawned, only startled as you realized yourself fully naked and for one chaotic moment could not remember how in Gaia’s name you got that way.

You sat up abruptly as the green cloak fell away from your bare body. But the silky feel of it brought you back to reality as you ran your hand out across it.

The sunlight was shining brightly into the cave. The fire long gone, and Loki along with it as you now sat alone here. All his clothes that had been stacked against the wall were also gone. Though with some bit of humor you realized your dress was now neatly folded beside the edge of the cloak for you to find. Quite far removed from its original point of just being piled beside the wall last night.

Though with him gone it was interesting that none of the nymphs had yet joined you. Perhaps they had just been too polite. But when you saw those same annoyingly loud gulls with some now walking up and down nervously at the cave entrance, you realized them for what they were.

You pulled Loki’s cloak back around yourself before laying back down, even while calling out. “You can come in, girls! I’m awake!”

With that a flurry of seagulls immediately flew into the cave, landing all around. And in moments they were all beautiful sea nymphs again, staring at you expectantly.

“You cannot tell my father, okay?” Was the very first thing you said as they all nodded highly enthusiastically.

But when you didn’t say anything immediately more, you could tell they were all about to explode in anticipation. “Yes, we coupled. Yes, I’d do it again.” You finally said.

They all squealed, no doubt realizing as well how badly you’d wished for his return in the last weeks. Yet that was also when the questions came.

“But was he better than an Olympian?”

“Was he tender, or rough? Did he try to please you, milady?”

“Was he big? I’ve heard everything is bigger up north. Aren’t they from the north?”

“My gods, girls, I don’t know. It’s not like I do this all the time.” You grumbled a little, curling up further into his cloak. It still smelled like him you realized. A rich scent, likely whatever it was that the royal quarters in Asgard smelled like.

“Oh we know! But it’s just, oh this is so exciting! You’ve finally taken a lover!”

Though as they continued to chat away, you did think of something you could actually ask them in return.

“When did he leave anyway? Did you see him?” You questioned.

“Oh,” They considered this for a moment. “Before sunrise surely, but we were um, asleep...most of us. We roosted outside the cave to wait for you, goddess.”

“I followed him!” Another one said. “But he told me to leave him be and go home.”

“What form were you in?” You asked, surprised he would so quickly recognize a nymph if in another form.

“Oh...well I was a seal.”

You blinked, imagining the ridiculousness of a nosy seal trying to inconspicuously waddle behind Loki all the way back up the beach and hillside last night.

“You should have been a small shorebird, and stuck to the trees to watch from a distance.” You commented.

“Ah, yes, that probably would have worked well.” They agreed.

You sighed a little, but it didn’t matter much regardless. As much as you still wanted to savor last night, Loki was already gone again. Which also meant that once again you could only wonder when, if ever, he might see fit to see you once more.

He’d already showed his capacity to fake his own injuries just to lure you in faster. So there was always the possibility that everything, all of it, had just been some elaborate scheme to bed you. And with that pleasure won, he may only be off to his next challenge far away from here.

You would have to accept whatever the Fates allowed, because what other choice did you have? But there was still no question. If you could see him again, you would gladly do so.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[rheawritessometimes]

A Bad Deal

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } A continuation of "Childe gets an owie." Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Mention of Injury, Physical Intimacy, Undefined Relationship, Questionable Behavior, Bad Writing, Please Let Me Know if Anything Needs to be Added.

{ Notes } I realized when I decided to write this that I didn't title the last fic, but the best works are always untitled. Not really I'm just forgetful. This time Childe can have mercy. I was so surprised with the response to the last fic, the amount of people who liked it was a huge surprise. Also, the comments on it were so kind. So obviously I needed to write a follow-up right away. I hope it's equally as enjoyable. Set up for a continuation if people like it. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 1,940

Getting Childe back to Liyue was a simple affair, he wasn't hindered by any pain he might have been in. The Snezhnayan wasn't one to complain about pain, even if he wasn't numbed up. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood, chattering animatedly as you walked. The fact he intentionally moved closer to you so that your shoulders occasionally brushed did not escape your notice. Neither of you said anything about it.

Luckily the Golden House wasn't very far from the harbor and the path was clear of any monsters, for which you were thankful. You were more than capable of handling most monsters on your own, but you were worried Childe would jump into combat and end up hurting himself more than he already had been. He was capable as a fighter but you thought him to be too reckless.

The visit to Bubu Pharmacy was entirely uneventful, it was confirmed that Childe had two broken ribs on his right side and he was given some medication for the pain. There wasn't much else to be done other than recommend regularly icing the area and no strenuous activities. That was expected, broken ribs were good at healing naturally, given rest. You wondered if it would even be possible for him to take it easy as a Harbinger, but it seemed the other Harbingers weren't as active as him so perhaps it was possible.

"I think I can just take it easy for two weeks and then go back to business as usual," Childe remarked as you began down the stairs. You looked at him with a frown, wondering if he was serious. This man had no regard for his long-term wellbeing.

"You need to rest for six weeks, at least. It's better for you to recover entirely before you get back to... whatever it is you do," you said with a stern tone. Sometimes it really did seem like Childe was a child. Haha.

"I'm a busy guy, I can't take that kind of time off," he argued, not seeming concerned by that in the slightest. It was true that broken ribs weren't the worst injury to work around, but it still wasn't wise to be so careless.

"Well, you're a valuable asset to Snezhnaya, surely you'd be allowed time off to recover. The Tsaritsa must be at least that understanding," you reasoned, now realizing you were walking along with him not sure where you were going. You didn't even know where he lived, it was clear he didn't spend his nights on the streets at least.

The Harbinger hummed thoughtfully, clearly scheming. You wondered what excuse he would come up with. Probably something about how he was 'very strong and can recover quickly'. You could almost scoff at the mere thought, it seemed entirely in character for him.

"Alright, I'll request time off to recover," he said, grinning cheekily, "if you help me while I recover."

You raised a questioning brow, that was something you hadn't predicted he was considering. Still, you cared enough for him to want him to fully recover, and helping him out wasn't beyond your abilities. Aside from one attempt to destroy Liyue, he had been pretty harmless.

"You'll rest for the whole six weeks?" you asked, still skeptical. You weren't sure it was possible for him to stay away from a fight for that long.

"Yep, I promise."

"Alright, deal."

Childe offered you his hand to shake, and you took it. Looking back on it, it was probably not the best idea to solidify your agreement in the land of contracts. Not when the terms hadn't been thoroughly discussed, at least.

"Great, you can stay at my apartment while I recover," he chirped, opening a door to what you assumed to be his apartment. You hadn't even realized you'd arrived in front of the building, too busy trying to convince Childe to take care of himself.

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly closed it when an ominous feeling washed over you. For some reason, it felt like it would be unwise to break your agreement. You silently cursed your past self, maybe you were the careless one.

Your displeasure must have been showing on your face because Childe laughed after seeing your expression. You clenched your jaw, but decided it would be better if you didn't say anything, he was certain to tease you if you rose to the bait.

"Second floor," he said as you walked down the hall, gesturing to a stairwell. He huffed once as you were going up the stairs, and you could only assume the numbness was beginning to fade. A wave of guilt washed over you at the thought. You broke his ribs and forced him to take off work for six weeks, so you were probably out of the running for friend of the year.

You could immediately tell which door led to Childe's apartment when you got to the second floor, there was a Fatui guard standing outside of it. He looked entirely out of place and you could imagine he was bored out of his mind just standing there. When he noticed your presence he eyed you suspiciously but said nothing, instead bowing his head to Childe.

The Harbinger completely ignored his subordinate, opening the door to his apartment and ushering you inside. Once the door was closed he ran a hand through his hair, letting out what sounded like a sigh of relief. It was probably nice to be home and finally able to relax after all that walking around with broken ribs.

"Your guard doesn't seem to like me," you remarked absently as you scanned his apartment. It was clean and surprisingly spacious, but a little bare. The floors were hardwood and there was a large carpet in the middle of the living room, with a sofa and some other furniture atop it. There were no houseplants to be seen.

"Yeah, I don't bring many people home," Childe laughed in response, plopping down on his couch which had no throw pillows or blankets. There was a wooden coffee table in front of it, but not much else around it.

"Oh, are you having relationship troubles?" you quipped in response, lips quirking up at the corners. He scoffed indignantly at your words.

"Have you seen this face? Of course not, I'm just waiting on the right person," he stated, lying sprawled across the couch. You shook your head at this, moving to the kitchen in hopes of finding some ice. Childe didn't say anything about you snooping around his kitchen, so you assumed there was nothing he felt he had to hide in there.

After gathering a dish towel and some ice, you came back with the make-shift icepack. He hadn't had a proper icepack in his freezer, which surprised you considering his line of work. Maybe later you would head back up to the pharmacy to get some.

"Ice your side for now. You should wash up and get changed soon," you told him after you handed him the icepack. While there had been no blood the fight was physically straining, so he probably needed to clean up. You realized after saying this that you had no change of clothes here, you'd need to go back to your place to get some things if he planned on having you stay here for six weeks.

"Okay, mom," he joked in response, you could only roll your eyes at this. He left the icepack laying on the right side of his chest, not bothering to hold it in place. You didn't bother to nag him about it, it was close enough.

"I'm going back to my place to get some stuff, I shouldn't be gone for long," you announced, turning to leave the apartment.

"Wait!" he shouted, sitting up suddenly, the icepack sliding down into his lap. "You owe me a kiss!"

You turned to look at him, a bit surprised by him shouting. You had forgotten about that entirely, but you did promise. So you walked over to the couch and leaned down to press your lips against his. You had intended for it to be a brief kiss, but his hand gently held your wrist and the other went up to brush against your jaw.

With a sigh you deepened the kiss, allowing yourself him to indulge for a little while. You were surprised by the slow pace he set, but certainly not displeased. He gently bit your bottom lip before pulling away, opening his eyes and giving you a smug look when he noticed your face had become a bit flushed.

"Get washed up and put clean clothes on while I'm gone," you said as you pulled away, trying to seem as unflustered as possible. It wasn't very effective, if his laughter as you fled the apartment was anything to go by.

Gathering everything you thought you would need from your apartment was entirely uneventful, you tried to pack everything you'd need for six weeks into a duffel bag but it was hopeless. You were bound to forget things and a duffel bag isn't much space, so you decided you could just come back whenever you needed something.

The Fatui guard stationed outside Childe's apartment was not shy about giving you a dirty look as you approached. It was safe to say the Harbinger probably didn't often have company. The guard seemed particularly suspicious of your bag, like that was the thing to worry about when it was commonplace to materialize weapons out of thin air.

"Stop," he ordered in a booming voice as you neared the door. You followed his order, halting outside the door. You proceeded to stare him dead in the eyes as you knocked three times on the door.

It swung open shortly after, Childe stepping out of the way to let you in. The way the guard clenched his jaw made you feel very smug.

"You don't have to knock, just come in," he said, and you were silently very thankful for those words. It was a little something extra to rub it in. Perhaps your loathing was a little misplaced, that man was likely not one who had attacked you in the past. But, he did still give you a dirty look and was none too polite, so there was something. Sometimes people are petty, and that's okay.

Once you were inside the apartment, you noticed Childe had showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes. The white t-shirt and grey sweatpants were rather different from his usual look, but it strangely suited him rather well. Maybe everything looks good on him because he's a pretty Fatui boy.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, shifting the weight of your bag as you followed him to the kitchen.

"Good, doesn't hurt much. What do you want for dinner?" he asked, opening the cupboards to survey their contents. How casual the atmosphere was made it feel awfully domestic.

"Um, I'm fine with whatever you make," you replied, banishing the thought from your mind. You weren't really sure about your feelings on the matter yet so you would push them all off to the side and sort through them some other time.

"Oh, right. There's a spare room down the hall across from the bedroom. You can put your stuff in there," he said, looking over at you standing in the doorway with your bag. You were already walking away when he added, "Or you're welcome to stay in my bedroom with me~"

"You wish."

Maybe six weeks with Childe wouldn't be too bad.

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Princess and the Miller

A/N: In honor of @monsieurbruhl​ reaching 1,000 followers as well because I can’t stop thinking about her post, I decided to make a Tonda one-shot. It deviates a little from the original post, but I hope you all still like it. BTW I haven’t read the book or seen the movie, but after reading up on it, I am going to go with an alternate version of this world. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Tonda x Fem!Reader. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluffy Smut, Happy Ending.

You had always been told that when you turned 21, you’d marry a prince. It was a marriage arranged since your infancy, you hadn’t met your betrothed and yet you were in a carriage on your way to his kingdom to marry him. You tried your best to find the best in the situation, tried to get some semblance of an idea of who the man you’d soon call husband, but all you got were very generic answers. He’s speaks several languages, plays many instruments, charming, handsome. But no one told you whether he was kind, generous, or good. Your eyes fell on the greenery whirling past your carriage as you felt your nerves grow.

Silently, you prayed that the prince you’d soon be married to would be kind, that you could learn to love the man and try to have a happy life. Your prayers quickly stopped as suddenly, the carriage had rocked and jumped wildly and then before you knew it, the carriage tipped over and things went black. A pounding in your head was the first thing you clearly knew before your eyes managed to open and focus enough to see the destruction before you. The coachman that was riding with you was trapped beneath the carriage and you could hear the soft whimpering of pain. You stand, though your leg was in great pain, and despite your own weaken state, you tried to help by pushing against the carriage, but to no avail. You looked around and noticed smoke in the sky. Someone lived by, they will help.

Running towards the direction, you press on, despite your own body aching, your head swimming with light headedness, because you had to help. Tired, but you managed to reach a mill, and saw a figure whose back was turned from you. “Excuse me,” your voice low and hoarse. The figure doesn’t hear at first and continues with his work, so you move forward, your body leaning against a pile of wood, which you knock down on accident.

The figure whipped his head around and at first seemed ready to fight but seeing you, blood dripping from your head, your weaken state, made him soften. “Please help,” you manage before passing out.

The next thing you knew, you wake up in a bed, your head bandaged, your leg in a splint and the pain subsided a bit and everything started to slowly come back to you. You try to get up from bed only to be hushed and pushed back gently. “No, don’t get up.”

It’s then do you take a look at your rescuer. He was older than you, can’t be no more than ten years older, but his wavy brown hair which he tied back, to his warm brown eyes and friendly smile made him seem boyish. “The coachman,” you say suddenly, “My carriage had crashed, he needs help,” you say, trying once again to get up.

“Alright,” he says, once again gently, pushing you back down, “I’ll go and see. In which direction did you come from?” You tell him to the best of your knowledge, but your head hurts so much, and you feel as if you want to cry. He offers you a small wooden bowl and brings it to your lips. “Drink. It’ll help with the pain.”

You do as your told, what else did you have to lose? Once he makes sure you drank all of it, he settles you back down and goes to find the carriage. Laying there, you wait and the pain in your head fades, allowing you the chance to wonder what will happen now; will your betrothed start to get worried if you are not there by tomorrow and have a search party sent for you? Will your father when he doesn’t receive word from you? Quite a bit of time goes by before you realize that the man returns, and his face is grave.

“I am sorry miss, but the coachman is dead. He died before I found the carriage.” His brown eyes grow tender with remorse and silently offers sympathy.

You cry, not only because the coachman was a good man you knew growing up, but because you felt completely and utterly alone. How you wished you were home now, wished you never left to be engaged, wished you were with your family now. The man does not say anything to you for a long time, leaves the cottage with a shovel in hand, and you knew what he was going to do. His absence allows you time to grieve, time to accept the situation, and when he returns, he still gives you space, waiting for you to speak first. He tells you he had buried the coachman, but you don’t feel like you could respond without crying, so you remain silent. When you do speak first, it is late in the night before he decides to retire to sleep. 

“What is your name?”

“Tonda.”

“Thank you, Tonda.”

Crying yourself to sleep, you wake and it takes you some time to realize where you are but are quickly comforted by the sight of those same soft brown eyes, sitting by the fire, stirring the pot. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, I suppose.” He gets up to bring you some porridge, gesturing for you to eat. “Where am I?”

“In my mill, just on the outskirts of Schwarzkollm, a small village, simple, but good. Where were you heading off to, maybe I know a way to get there.” You thought to not tell him the whole truth, withhold your being a princess, but looking into his eyes, you feel as if you can utterly trust him with anything. So, you explain that you were on your way to be married, that your betrothed was expecting you any day and must be worried. He took your being a princess well and instead of acting like everyone else who fell to their knees and dare not look at you, he continued to look at you, like you were an actual human being, not a symbol as your father once described you. “I know the kingdom, it’s a half a day’s ride from here. I’ll take you there as soon as I am sure you are feeling better.”

“Oh, thank you, Tonda! Thank you!” You clasp his hands into yours, a gesture of gratefulness, but somehow the touch made your cheeks grow warm. Perhaps it was because you realized that this was the first time you had been alone with a man that was not your father, perhaps it was because of how close both of your bodies were, or perhaps it was the look in Tonda’s eyes that made your stomach flutter like a million butterflies.

Word quickly spread that Tonda had a visitor in his mill, a young and pretty woman at it too, and people came to know the story, though you asked Tonda to not revel your true identity. Tonda was polite and kind enough to try to hold many of them back, certain it would overwhelm you, especially from the trauma you suffered the day before. But a few older women get by, offering food, clothing, and remedies to help you feel better, and you thank them graciously, knowing they mean well. You become grateful to be alone once again with Tonda, so you could have some peace.

He is gentle when he checks your bandages, cleans the wounds, and reapplies fresh wrappings. “You have only a small cut on your forehead, that’ll heal soon, but your ankle looks very bad,” he observes and you have to agree with him, what with it’s dark purple bruises and deep cuts that even grazing it caused great pains. “Stay off it for as long as you can; the longer you stay still, the quicker it’ll heal.”

You stay in bed, applying ointments and herbs that Tonda and the older women bring to you, while Tonda does his chores as well as trying to care for you. Feeling guilty, you offer to do little things to help, such as peel potatoes and mend clothes, little things you didn’t think mattered, but did mean so much to Tonda.

You wondered how you’d pay him back, especially since he was good enough to grab your trunk from the wreck and brought it to the mill. It wasn’t the clothes or the trinkets you cared about, but your books. Your father took great care to have you educated, to read and write, know your math and history. One day, Tonda noticed you reading and asked about it. “Oh it’s one of my favorites, but then again, I am partial to love stories. I’m almost done with it, you can read it after if you like.”

His cheeks grew red. “Oh, that’s kind of you, but-”

“But what?”

He looks down then admits, “I can’t read.”

You look at him surprised, such a capable and bright man stood before you, and he didn’t know how to read! “Well, how about this? As a way to repay you, I can teach you to read and write in the evenings, and whatever else you’d like to learn. What do you say?”

At first, Tonda tried to refuse, saying that there was no need to repay him, but after arguing that it would be good for him when he does business in the village, he at last accepts.  And so went your life for the next month. During the day, Tonda worked on the mill while you tried your best to help in bed, then in the evenings, you taught Tonda how to read and write. He was a quick learner and so proud of himself that you couldn’t help but to be proud as well.

In the time between, you both came to understand each other. Tonda proved to be a kind, gentle soul who loved animals and children, with a quick wit and a wonderful sense of humor. His father taught him to fight, which you were grateful to hear that he had little cause to use his skills, his mother taught him how to cook, which is why you were always asking for second helpings of his food. He told you how he was orphaned when he was quite young, and had lived on his own since, how while there were times he didn’t mind the peaceful quiet, he struggled with the solitude.

You told him how you understood what he meant, often feeling all alone in the big castle, how your being a middle child and not a boy, your worth was measured in how good of a wife you could one day be. You tell him of your apprehensions of your upcoming marriage, how small and insignificant you feel in this world, especially since there had not been any word on anyone trying to find you.

“No one is insignificant. We all have a reason, a purpose. Even a blade of grass has a purpose, for that blade of grass may very well be shelter to an ant, the nourishment an animal needs to live. You have your purpose, you may not yet know it now, but you will. You’ll mean something great to someone, and they’ll find they can’t live without you.”

Your heart thumps harshly against your chest, the look in his eyes, the tenderness in his voice all touched you so deeply, that you almost forgot to breathe. He turns away from you, looking as if he spoke something he shouldn’t.

The next day, you try to walk. The bruises have gone and the cuts have turned to faint scars, but it is still a little sore. Tonda stands by your side as you attempt to walk and with each attempt, you get further and further. While the sight of you getting better should have been a moment to celebrate, neither of you say the words, but both remember his promise. “I don’t think I am quite healed yet,” you speak before he does, “I think we ought to wait until I am able to walk completely, perhaps another week, just to be sure.” You are grateful when Tonda happily agrees and lets you remain with him.

A week turns to two, and those two turns to four. You learn from him how to work the mill, helping him more and more, going into the village with him, meeting the people properly. You don’t hear the whispers of the villagers, certain that you and Tonda were courting, but it’s perhaps better that you didn’t it would only make things complicated. And still, two months and no word, no sign of either kingdoms looking for you.

Eventually, you dare ask Tonda to take you to your betrothed kingdom. You just have to know what happened, why no one came for you, to let them know you were safe. A flash of pain shoot across his eyes, but being the honorable man he was, he hitched his horse and the two of you rode on. When you did reach the kingdom, you were surprised to see celebrating going on, ribbons everywhere, flower petals falling from the sky, cheers from the crowd.

“Excuse me, what is happening?” Tonda asked a passing villager.

“The prince is married!” said the villager, running off towards the castle.

You and Tonda stare at each other bewildered. Trumpets sound and you see, standing on the balcony is the prince you were to marry, and beside him, your sister, as his bride. The sight is like a stab in the heart, not because you had wanted to marry the prince, but because you knew the truth now. No one came for you because in their eyes, you were dispensable, if not you, another will easily take your place. 

The realization made you break down, sobbing as Tonda took you away, carried you even as you were so overcome with despair. He helps you back on the horse and together, he brings you back to his mill. The entire ride, you are sobbing into his back, holding on to him for dear life, your heart utterly broken. It’s dusk when you return to the mill, and ever the gentleman, Tonda helps you down from the horse and escorts you back in, making a fire when he sees you shiver. “I am so sorry, my princess,” he says at last softly, “They do not deserve you if they think you can be easily replaced like that.”

“I’m just,” you say low and brokenly, as you sit in the closest chair, “Not the blade of grass they needed it seems.”

He quickly kneels before you, taking your hands into his and makes you look into his eyes. “You are more than a blade of grass; you are the sky, the earth and the oceans. You are everything that makes life worth living for, and that prince and your father are fools to not realize that. You mean something great to me, always.”

You stare deep into his soft brown eyes and it hits you. Tonda, the man who rescued you, who cared for you, listened and taught you, you were in love with him. Yes, it was clear now, and the revelation helped to ease the heartbreak. Taking his face into your hands, you reached forward and kissed him. It was gentle at first, beautiful, something you had always read about in the romance stories and it made you both gasp when you parted.

You don’t know who prompted it, you feel as if it was you, but you can't be certain, but what you do know is that Tonda carried you to the bed, clothes stripped from the both of you and for the first time for either for you, you laid down together and carefully learned together these first throes of passion and love. His coarse hands were gentle on your skin, his lips everywhere as if he couldn’t dare part with you, his movements gentle and slow, not wanting to rush this breathtaking moment. He sighs and moans at the feeling of your soft hands running down the planes of his back, combing through his long wavy hair, the soft whimpering of your voice in his ear. 

“I love you,” his speaks desperately, lovingly, hopelessly, “I love you, love you, always.”

Hours later and you stare into the small fire as it slowly diminishes and Tonda curled behind you, sleeping. Today was a whirlwind of emotions, and yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to feel guilty for how it ended. It stung to think your own father didn’t care, that to the world you were dead. In his sleep, Tonda pulled you closer and nuzzled himself closer to you, making you smile.

Well, you think, perhaps it’s better that the world thinks me dead, to earn this second chance to truly live. And live you did with your sweet miller, happily ever after, in fact.

Tagging those who I think would be interested: @monsieurbruhl​, @creme-bruhlee​, @bruehl​, @neonheart1244​, @justfangirlthingies​, @git-it-got-it-good​, @daniel-bruhhl​, @cazzyimagines​ 

[aggressivelyclueless]

witching hour

in which star and the ghost hold a midnight conversation in the graveyard

contains: secrets, confessions, and revelations on both sides

[part one] [part two]

It was coming up on midnight when Star made her way out to the graveyard on Split River Road.  It was moonless and bitter, with wind that creaked through the trees and brought a flurry of leaves down every time it came through.  She pulled the gate open with a hard half-rusted screech, shivered, and crept along the packed dirt path.

She found an empty spot under the willow tree, where the wind wasn't so bad and she wasn't so cold, and sat down.  There was a semi-comfortable place in between two twisted roots that she found suitable enough, plopping down on the cold dirt and crossing her legs under her.  She cast a surveying glance around her.

He was around here somewhere.

She sat back, zipped her jacket the rest of the way up, and concentrated.  When the ghost spoke to her, he bypassed physical sound and manifested in her mind.  That was the loudest that anything could be; she couldn't do that, not with words at least.

But if she cast out far enough, she could feel the ghost, and if she prodded, she hoped he could feel her too.

It didn't take long until her concentration was spent, and her mind began to spin.  She'd expected it, considering how far she was trying to reach, and rubbed the heel of her hand against her temple in an effort to ease the dull throbbing that had come up in her head.  When that didn't help, she groped around in her backpack for the bottle of water she'd filled for herself before she'd left.

It would do.

The ghost had felt her, or at least something had.  The shadowy thing crawled in on a stiff breeze, pooling into the darkness under one of the nearby headstones and making itself comfortable.

(Aren't you cold?)

It sounded like him.

Star let all of her breath out at once, straightening herself out and leaning back against the willow tree's roots.  "Answer me something, ghost."

(Only if you say please)

"Alright, please tell me: why are you still here?"

(Here?  As in, right here?)

"Here, as in still-on-this-earth," said Star, "Ghosts are supposed to have unfinished business, aren't they?"

(Well, yeah) said the ghost, (but wait a second.  How come I should tell you?)

Was he serious?  "Because you're not the only one that gets to be curious and ask questions.  This goes both ways."

The ghost paused to consider it.  He didn't like the sounds of it - the apprehension all but dripped off him, hanging thickly in the air between them, and the longer he thought about it, the more it wanted to solidify into dread.

(And you'll tell me about your. . . whatever-you're-doing)

Star nodded solemnly.  "If that's what you want."  She slipped a hand into the backpack resting beside her, pulling out the folded square shape of Felicity's ouija board and laying it flat on the ground.  Procuring the wooden puck from the side pouch, she set it down over YES and glanced back at the shadows.  "Well?"

The ghost prickled.  (Do we even need that?  Oh, wait, let me guess, to keep me honest, right?)

"To keep us honest," said Star, with a practiced patience.  "It goes both ways.  Whatever you're so scared about - I thought this might help."

(Hey, I'm not scared) retorted the ghost, a little too defensively to convince her.  He came up to the other side of the board, appearing as a slinking oily shape over the ground, and she felt the cold deepen over her fingers as he rested his own on them.  (I want to go first.  Tell me about how you do it.  How you know all this stuff I never told you, how you know if I'm there when you said you couldn't see me, whatever kind of telepathy that is - )

"You think it’s telepathy?" said Star, both eyebrows shooting up, "Was that what you were so worried about?"

(Tell me about it) pressed the ghost, (Please.  I have to know)

Star gave it a moment of thought.  "Not exactly.  Telepathic, I mean.  You think of a number and I can't magically guess it every time.  But I get feelings from people.  From places.  From the dead.  Always could, to some extent.  A lot of people think it's bull."

(You can sense ghosts) said the spirit, and she got the impression that he didn't much like the sound of that.

Star shrugged.  "Mostly it's just a feeling, or what someone wants.  Like at the seance the other night, when you wanted an excuse to screw around.  I knew you weren't going to hurt anybody."

(And you went along with it on purpose)

"I was hoping it would scare the hell out of Felicity's friend.  She never liked me, you know.  But, point is - most of the time, it's just little pieces.  Sometimes - well, once in a while - it'll be a thought.  Sort of."

Dread.  (What do you mean, sort of?)

"Those are the kind I have to really try for.  They don't come on their own, and like I said I can't pull someone's locker combo out of their mind.  I get ideas.  Concepts."  She regarded the shadow on the ground for a moment, prying, her brow furrowing as her concentration deepened.  She'd exerted most of herself casting out for the spirit earlier; almost immediately, the ache returned behind her temples.  "The one I keep getting from you goes like, what if she finds out?"

Dread turned to stone-cold fear.  (Find out what?  Please, please tell me you don't know)

Star shook her head slowly.  "That's not how this works."  She paused, a new thought occurring to her, and after giving it a brief consideration she asked: "That's what you're afraid of, though, isn't it?  You're afraid that I can, and you think I'm going to dig up this secret of yours on purpose."

(Aren't you?)

"Hmm."  She cocked her head back and forth a few times.  They both still had their fingers on the board; she couldn't have flat-out lied if she'd wanted to.  "I might, just for curiosity's sake.  But I don't think I'd tell anyone."

That surprised him.  (You wouldn't?)

"Of course not - because then it's not only also my business, it's also my problem.  Not sure I'd want it to be, if it's already yours and you're dead."

(I mean. . . )

"Wait, did you think I would have told people?"

(Well - I don't know, maybe I did.  Look, I thought a lot of things, and it's turning out my track record for most of them is being wrong.  So I'm sorry)  The shadow on the other side of the board swirled in place, as if the ghost was ashamed.  Perhaps he was.

But Star just smiled.  "You thought I was stupid, didn't you?"

The ghost didn't answer, probably because he didn't want to have to say yes.

"I'll tell you one other thing, then."  She leaned in over the board, her voice dropping to a whisper.  "When you shine a little like I do, sometimes people notice.  Sometimes things notice.  You sure did.  That's why people think I'm dumb.  Because it's better that way."

For a moment, the ghost was silent.  At last: (I. . . wow, sorry, that's. . . that explains so much, actually)

Star straightened back up again, reaching over and pawing at the side of the backpack without looking.  Her fingers found the corner of a candy bar in the front pocket; she plucked it out, tearing the wrapper off with her teeth.  Through a mouthful of chocolate and caramel: "Okay, okay, my turn.  Tell me about the whole unfinished business thing.  Is that your big bad secret?  That you don't want people to know what it is?"

(Well - ) the ghost paused, redirecting.  (Actually, that's not it.  It sort of isn't.  It's complicated)

Star wasn't about to let him off the hook - not after her little revelation.  "Try me.  Let's start easy: it's not ghostly vengeance, it's not closure for the body, or anything like that.  What is it?"

The ghost sighed.  (That's the thing. . . )

"You don't have any," she completed the thought for him, turning it over a few times internally to see if it would stick.  It didn't, at least not cleanly.  "Then how come you're - wait.  Wait a sec, you. . .  "

Realization and disbelief struck in tandem, practically knocking the air right out of her.  "You're not a ghost," she breathed, "You're something else."

(Well. . . )

"What are you, really?"  Part of her had to find out; part of her knew it would be better not to ask.  Part of her said it was already too late not to.  She had to wonder if the rules of the board still bound him.  What if he'd lied to her this whole time?

(No, don't - I'm not. . . not a demon, or anything.  Honest, I'm not.  I'm just. . . look)  The shadow coiled in on itself slightly, as if the thing was shifting around under the darkness.  (I won't tell anyone about your whole - ghost sensitivity, or whatever you want to call it, but you can't tell anyone about this either, okay?)

She nodded slowly.  What was one more secret, in the grand scheme of things?  She had plenty of them already, and not just her own.

(Okay.  Honest truth: I'm not completely a ghost.  I'm not all the way dead - but I'm not all the way alive, either.  I'm kind of stuck somewhere in the middle)

She cast out one last time.  He was telling the truth, and it wasn't only because the rules of ouija were forcing him; she could feel his honesty, and the uncertainty of not knowing what would come next or what she'd think, but not only that, he trusted her.

And, if she was honest too, that was a good feeling.

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

Killed in Action

A/N 

Is this a sad-ish story... yeah. For some reason this depressing story is what my brain made up last night and I couldn’t stop thinking about that idea so yeah. Of course I had to put it into words to get it out of my mind. 

Might post a NSFW version of this story because that also wont leave my mind but for now its SFW  

Summery: Aaron is in Pakistan, but after weeks of getting no phone calls from him. It comes to her realization what happened while she was unaware. 

Warnings: SFW, small mention of suicide. 

Word Count - 1.8k

Materiel list

Part II

______________

Everything was normal, everything was as it should be. Your husband was in Pakistan for an assignment. You couldn't go a day without hearing his voice, listening to old audios. 

You knew what went on in the surrounding area at the time, given you've been on two tours to the middle east. When your contract ended with the Army you exited with multiple degrees, you had taken advantage of free college. 

Calling it quits and not renewing it was one of the best things you could've done. It gave you the time to go through the academy and join the FBI. 

Not only that but meeting Aaron when you did. Everyone on the team was supportive of you two, you saw the team as your own little family. You all had each other's backs, but they knew you could handle yourself. 

Morgan's nickname for you was badass. It brought a smile to your face whenever he said it given it wasn't too often, he wanted to keep you on your toes. 

At the moment you had been at work all day writing reports and filling out papers. There were no cases, more of an in house day. 

You enjoyed those, you weren't running around like your head was cut off. 

You hadn't talked to Aaron in three weeks, he was always too busy. You definitely understood that and you guys would talk when you could.

Your pen was gliding across the page when JJ called everyone into the conference room. You all looked at each other in confusion and proceeded to head to the room. 

"Y/n you might want to sit down." You scrunched up your face and obeyed, taking a seat next to Morgan. 

JJ cleared her throat, "I just got a message from Pakistan... it uh-- there was a raid at the camp Hotch was stationed. Everyone on sight was DOA and it's expected that Hotch was KIA." 

"Wha--." You shook your head, unable to wrap your head around the news. Killed in action. You knew it was dangerous out there but it was rare that insurgents would infiltrate a base.  

"You said expected... it's not confirmed?" Morgan said after he had absorbed the unexpected information. You were at a complete loss for words, you were more confused than anything. 

"There were two John Does, murdered beyond recognition. Everyone was identified but them, the dental records came back inconclusive because of the damage done to the face. There were surgical pins found in one of the Johns wrists so they're running the serial number." 

"How coul-- JJ are you trying to tell me that my husbands dead?"

"Y/n", Reid said, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

You stood up defensively, removing his hand from your shoulder, "Don't touch me. JJ answer the question." Please, please, please. 

"This can't be happening." You mumble to yourself, he had been an assignment for months. No contact with him, you thought he was busy but in reality, no one knew if he was alive. 

The team stared at you with tears in their eyes. Feeling sorry in that moment, no one else had words to say because their faces were all very telling. 

You were in denial, were they questioning the news too? Absolutely, they also couldn't believe that he was gone. But no way in hell that they felt the pain that you did. 

You all stayed silent for ten minutes and let the words sink in, process it. They couldn't understand, how could they, you both were married five years. Every night after a case you both would curl up in bed together. 

You knew a side of him no one has really seen, you kept it to yourself. 

"I need to go." You said walking out and along the catwalk. You went into Aarons office and shut the door. 

                                                         ____

Arriving at home you stared at the bed you both had slept on multiple times. You could practically see him rolling you over. Your body on his with the blanket over your head because it was cold. 

You could feel the ghost of a touch when you thought about how he would run his thumb over your bottom lip when he looked down at you. When you were caged underneath him. 

Dropping your bag on the floor, you collapsed. Falling to your knees as the pain coursed through your veins, you still couldn't believe it. 

Tears streamed down your face at the thought of never seeing him again. All that was left was his belongings, photos, videos. 

A memory

Your memory of domestic Aaron Hotchner, husband, agent, a hero to many. 

Your wales could be heard from outside the house. It went on for days, phases of 'it's going to be okay' to 'I want to die.' 

                                                            ____

"It wasn't him." Emily said through the phone. You answered the call after you had woken up. Wrapped up in Aaron's clothes, laying on his pillow, on his side of the bed. 

You wiped your hair off your face, "It wasn't" You said in disbelief. 

"He could still be alive." 

"So he's just missing?" 

"Yeah." Here words brought you hope, a sense of relief from the anguish you were feeling.  

The false hope only lasts so long before you slip back into the mindset of he's dead. "It's been months Emily, you know the odds." 

"There's still a chance", Morgan chimes in. The team was at work, you had called in sick, not wanting to move. That was now a normal occurrence. 

Dragging yourself to work was exhausting. On occasions you stopped going in, using your sick days.

When those ran out you would stay in Virginia and help with the case from Garcia's office. They understood the circumstances. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw the weight loss, your clothes were bigger but not by much. You were barely eating, eventually you ate once a day and drank enough to stay hydrated. 

You did your work and stopped answering the team's calls. At least once a day you would get a call from everyone and it bugged you the way the phone kept ringing. 

You were in the shower, getting ready for bed. 

Doing your normal routine, throwing on Aarons shirt that was now almost to your knees. 

You laid your head down on his pillow, going to sleep. 

                                                          ____

Two hours later you hear a loud thump downstairs. Your head shot up and your hands subconsciously went to the gun that was in your bedside table. 

Your feet touched the cold hardwood and you steadily made your way downstairs. 

Putting distance between the door and yourself you stood your ground at the bottom of the stairs. Aiming your gun where the person's abdomen would be.  

You waited, watching the door handle jiggle. Somebody was trying to get in. The lights were out everywhere, the only light was from a street lamp. 

When the door finally creaked open a bag was thrown in, it made you jump. 

But still you stand still. When it opened wider, your breath was caught in your throat. How 

You dropped the gun on the floor in an instant.

You felt paralyzed and yet your legs were moving on their own. Jumping forwards you were caught when the strong arms hooked under your thighs. 

Your chest pressed against his, water covered his shirt. 

His hand pulled you into him, your face buried in his neck. Your cries were anything but quiet and you could hear him as well. 

His body tensed with every breath. You didn't realize you were on the couch until he pulled away from you, running his thumb along your bottom lip like all those times before. 

The streams collected down your neck and his, your hand wiped them away. With both of you choked up, no words were spoken. His lip twitched in pain and he brought you back into his chest. 

"I missed you... so fucking much." 

That made everything harder, his words hit home.  

You looked at him in his eyes and slammed your hand into his shoulder, "Don’t ever leave me again, please please please, I can’t--" Crying again you hugged him, your legs still on him like a koala. 

Your hand traveled into his hair, "I won’t baby, I swear. Never again. You’re stuck with me." He cracked a sad grin. 

                                                           ____

Hours later you still sat in his lap, wrapped around him. 

Your fingers trailed up his chest, his hands on back. "The team and I have been calling you for hours." Aaron said after a while. 

"My phone is off." 

"I figured." He said softly. 

"Aaron... what happened to you?" 

He took steady breaths, and collected his thoughts. "There was a raid a few weeks ago. Insurgents came down from Hindu Kush over the Afghan border. It rarely happens and none of us believed what was really going on. Me and a few other guys picked up rifles and started picking them off but they were overwhelming us. When their numbers grew we ran, leaving into the mountains, the desert." 

You stopped your movements and listened closely, usually they never crossed the border. You've had your fair share of the Taliban given your tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. They were everywhere at the time. 

"The next morning someone from another base found the others, all of them were dead. That's when word got out and they notified the families of the deaths. I don't remember how we got there, we fought like hell. But after all the assessments and protocols it took a while sweetheart and for that I truly apologize that you didn't hear from me."  

"I thought you were dead." You whispered.

"I know baby, I know, I’m sorry.” His voice was thick in regret. 

He had nothing to be sorry for, what happened was out of his control. He had rules and regulations to follow after something like that. 

You curled your body against his and he reciprocated. Turning his legs onto the couch and making a cocoon around your body. You wanted to feel him, to know this wasn't a dream. 

You've had them like this before, but they were never this vivid. 

The one thing you hadn't done yet is kiss, you hadn't felt his lips on yours because you were too focused on him being there. 

You looked up at him and cupped his cheek, bringing you closer to him. His lips met yours, they were salty from the dried tears but still the best feeling in the world. 

You grazed your teeth against his bottom lip and you moved back. Returning to your previous position, "I love you." 

"I love you too sweetheart."  

[cdroloisms]

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

[crescentsteel]

When in Brazil - Beach

pairing: Oikawa x f!reader genre: SMUT wc: 7.8k (i am deceast bye) warnings: fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, edging

Let me bore you to death zzz

I promise the last chapter will be exciting (in my head it is at least) :(

Prior to this series, I have zero knowledge about Brazil. So if there's anything sus somewhere there as I describe Rio, pls be kind to me.

No beta for this one once again uwu

Lmk if you wanna be part of taglist

Sunshine || masterlist

In the hustle and bustle of a busy city as Rio de Janeiro, one finds themselves having their time stolen away from them as they get swept up in all the craziness the place has to offer.

That’s you, except the craziness is in the form of a never ending cycle of wake up, work, then go home.

You’re just glad a certain orange-haired boy joins you from time to time to ease your thirst for something exciting.

Yet sometimes, you crave the silence, the quiet, to be alone and actually enjoy it. Living in one of the most tourist-infested places in the world, you rarely find yourself in such a situation.

That’s why you dragged your feet outside even if your clock tells you it’s 2:48 in the morning.

You woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. Rather than waste your time away in bed, you grab a can of beer from your fridge and decide to make the most out of it.

The thing about Rio — it’s almost never silent. Even at this time, you can hear the soft beat of music from the local bars and clubs alongside the sound of the sea right across the streets where they’re located. The shores of Copacabana, being the most famous beach in the city, are never empty as well.

But what good is being a local if you don’t know places you can hide from the crowd?

A tad bit more than kilometer away from Copacabana is Posto 1 in Praio de Leme, a beach not as crowded as the others.

With the absence of people flocking here and there, you easily make your way to the beach, almost prancing on your steps for the slight tang of freedom and muted noise you haven’t had in forever.

Despite the stroll being an all-familiar route you take, it feels blissfully different. And when you arrive at Posto 1, you suddenly feel grateful for living in Rio. You take your slippers off and feel the sand beneath the soles of your feet. The smell of salt water permeates the air while you welcome the dainty breeze brought by the sea.

You savor each step, taking your time to reach a certain spot you consider yours as the darkness of the dims the bright liveliness of the city.

Luck must be in your side as you find the place still as you remember it the last time you went there. Trees surround the area abundantly compared to the more famous beaches in the city.

Lifeguard stations that separate the area covered by each beach look like mini lighthouses made of white stone. Posto 1, being the first station, is situated beside rocky shore that signals the other end of the beach.

In between Posto 1 and the clump of rocks, that’s your secret spot. The station blocks the view of the rest of the shoreline, the trees behind you conceal you from the buildings across the street, and the rocks perfectly completes the set up as it eludes you to think that you’re hidden from the tropical urban jungle that is Rio.

You pick a spot near a tree so you can lean on something when you sit down. You unknot the canga on your hip and sprawl it on the sand. You seat yourself comfortably and cross your stretched legs. You open your can of beer and savor the first taste as you stare in the vast darkness

You don’t know how long you’ll stay there, but you don’t care. You have the day off tomorrow and you don’t mind if you’re there long enough that the sun will rise on you.

Damn. You should’ve brought at least two cans of beer for this.

However, your paradise of being alone was quickly interrupted when you hear coarse footsteps approaching somewhere behind you. Shortly after, a figure emerges from the trees, much to your displeasure.

He notices your presence too as he looks your way as soon as he comes to your view.

“Hi!” The stranger greets you all too friendly, which adds to your irritation. You haven’t even enjoyed your time alone and you’re already disrupted. What’s worse is that it’s not even a local. It’s a freaking tourist, probably Japanese based on his features.

“Sorry, but the beach is closed at this time,” you announce in an amicable manner despite being annoyed, something working on a diner has instilled in you for years.

“Oh? But you’re here,” he responds with an easy-going smile that pisses you off even more. You should’ve spoken in Portugese. Maybe then, he would’ve left you alone. “Yeah. It’s not open for tourists at night,” you lie with a fake smile, still hoping that he’ll leave.

However, he does the opposite. He crosses the few steps away from you and crouches to get to your eye level. You stare at his face for a few seconds and realize that he’s actually attractive — brown hair, brown eyes, and a dazzling smile.

Still, you came here to be alone. You don’t want the company of another, no matter how good looking they are.

“Can’t you make an exception for one tourist?” He flashes you a grin that you’re pretty sure would sway a lot of women when directed at them. Maybe you too on a different night. But not this one.

“I’d be honest, mr tourist. I prefer to be alone. If you go past that station, you’ll find a lot of space for yourself.”

He purses his lips. “But it seems more fun here, ms local.”

How is this place fun? There’s literally nothing here. That’s why you claimed this place for your own because people rarely go here when the night deepens.

He’s most likely looking for someone to bother and entertain himself, as expected of tourists.

You sigh when you realize he’ll probably keep pestering you until you give in. You take one sip of your beer and turn to him.

“You better hold one hell of a conversation, tourist. Or else I’ll be the one leaving,” you announce with a deadpan voice.

He chuckles lightly before sitting on the sand. He extends one leg on the side while he bends up the other so he can rest his elbow on his knee. “I’m sure I can manage,” he declares with unshakeable confidence that makes you scoff a bit.

The guy is full of himself. If he wasn’t very pleasing to look at, you would’ve left already.

You return your gaze to the dark waters to distract yourself from his presence. “I’d offer you a beer, but I only brought one.” You say out of courtesy as you lean back to the tree and try to relax despite the stranger beside you.

“I won’t mind sharing yours,” he responds casually.

You take one more sip and face his direction to hand him the drink in your hand. He grabs it with a smile and a wink that would’ve made you cringe if he didn’t look so damn good when he did it.

He puts the drink on his mouth and nips it casually. “So what’s a pretty local doing at the shore at this hour?”

You raise an eyebrow at the subtle flattery he included in his question. “Like I said, I wanted some time alone. Unfortunately for me though, a very rude tourist arrived a few minutes after I just settled down,” you eye him meaningfully which earns you a pout from him.

You almost want to laugh. What is up with this guy? He’s a bit weird, but in a charming kind of way. “What about you, tourist? What’re you doing out this late at night?”

“Jetlag. Our hotel’s just across the street and the people I’m with are already tired. I’m so bored,” he whines as he drinks again from your can before he hands it to you.

“So you decided to take a stroll in a completely foreign city?”

He feigns a surprised look. “Are you a fortune teller?”

“A witch, actually. Better leave now before I curse you,” you warn him with a straight face.

Not even fazed a bit, he meets your dead eyes with affable ones. “I don’t mind being cursed by you, ms. witch.”

You shrug off your shoulders, unaffected by the flattery. You’re used to it with the amount of foreigners hitting on you during tourist season. “You better decide what you’ll call me then,” you respond coldly.

“You really want to keep being strangers, huh?”

Something surfaces in his orbs that unnerves you, a glint that tells you there’s more to this man behind the pompous persona he’s purposely showing you.

“Uh-huh. Ms. local sounds fine to me.” Not that he seems dangerous or anything, but you don’t want to get to know him. You’d like to remain as strangers. This is just a small chat for you both to pass time. There’s no need for names when you already have a way to address each other.

“Alright then, ms local. Lets play a game.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What game?”

“A guessing game. The person who first gets three correct guesses about the other wins.”

“What does the winner get?” You ask with intrigue.

“Anything they want.”

You tap the can of beer dangling from your fingertips while you study him. What can he possibly ask of you if he wins? He looks friendly, but you can’t be too certain. He might ask for something like your number. You have no intentions of giving it to him and getting involved with a tourist. The most you can get from the is a one night stand and a “thank you for the experience” message, as if fucking a local completes their whole Rio trip.

He suddenly laughs. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask for anything weird. I just want the tree you’re leaning at.”

You frown at him. “Seriously? There’s another tree over there.” You point a tree a few steps away from him.

“I want that one specifically,” he says firmly as he ignores where you’re looking at and eyes the trunk you’re leaning on.

“Okay then, tourist. If I win, will you leave?”

“Deal” he quickly agrees. “Go ahead, ms local. Ladies first.”

Without even thinking, you make your first guess. “You’re probably a model or an actor in Japan.”

He breaks into a wide smile at your hunch, which doesn’t tell you anything whether you were right or wrong. “You really think so?”

Did you get it wrong? He seems like someone who has a nightly skin care routine to make sure he doesn’t have any breakouts. His skin looks nicer than yours too. So it makes sense for him to be either of the two.

You don’t tell him that though. He looks like he’s well aware that he’s a pretty boy.

“I mean you do look nice. You’re tall and stuff,” you justify briefly.

He gives out a pleasant laugh that sounds way too rehearsed, like he’s been practicing it in case someone compliments him.

“I’m flattered, but no. Sorry!”

He doesn’t look sorry at all. “Actually, I’m a starter for a pro Volleyball team in Argentina,” he says with his face becoming a little bit more serious as it oozes with pride. You find it interesting — how he glorifies being an athlete. He does have the build for it, but he’s kinda too pretty to be a professional athlete.

Your thoughts suddenly go back to Shoyo now that he mentioned the sport.

“Oh oh oh wait,” your enthusiasm shoots up when a hilarious assumption hits you. “I’ll go again then you’ll get two turns after this,” you clear your throat before voicing out your thoughts.

“Let me guess. You traveled all the way from Japan to Argentina to pursue Volleyball,” you declare with all smiles despite how ridiculous it might have seemed to him. You could waste one guess to entertain yourself.

He stares at you wide-eyed with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

You gape at him in surprise. You were just goofing around with Shoyo’s story. You don’t expect that he’d have a similar story.

“For real?”

He nods. “Yeah. That was frighteningly accurate.”

Wow. What were the chances that you were actually right? What was just a ridiculous hunch was actually on point. Now, you’re far more entertained. You’ll ask for his name before you part ways and tell Shoyo about him. You don’t have a clue what the Volleyball scene is like in Japan so maybe somehow, they know each other.

He recovers after a quick while and regains his composure. “Okay, my turn. I’m guessing…,” he looks up as he scurries what guess he’ll make before his gaze lands back to you, “you’re into nice guys.”

You let out a scoff at his too safe of a guess. He must be frolicking when he appears to be thinking earlier because that’s kind of a no-brainer.

“Who isn’t?” You ask back sarcastically instead of confirming that he’s right.

“A lot of women actually,” he swiftly responds. “So that’s one for me. And I’m also guessing you don’t go out much.” This time he doesn’t pretend to be thinking and straight up tells you, as if he’s figured it out already earlier.

You squint at him. “How did you know?”

“You wouldn’t be out here at this time of the night if you did,” he cocks an eyebrow as he answers.

Shit. That’s two correct guesses off the bat. The stakes are not that high for you. You’ll just lose a back rest, but it unnerves you that he’s this astute. You just assumed that he’s nothing but good looks.

You put a little more effort to the game he initiated and thought of a hunch that’s very likely to be correct.

“Umm. I think you like beer,” you surmise. If he didn’t mind sharing one with a stranger, he must like it enough.

He purses his lips to the side and shakes his head. “Nope. I think it’s vile. Also, our fitness coach will chew me out if he finds out I’m drinking tonight.”

You furrow your brows together at what he just admitted. “Then why’d you ask for mine?”

“I wanted to look cool,” he confesses without shame which makes you palm your face.

“My turn.” You remove your hands away from your face and hope that he gets it wrong this time. You’re kinda enjoying the game and want to continue for a tiny bit more.

“It’s been a while since you got laid.”

It’s a staring contest between you after he utters it. He holds the same seemingly good-natured expression in his face despite the sexual nature of his statement. You, on the other hand, can’t suppress the frisky smirk that’s creeping up on the corner of your lips.

You roll your eyes and look away with the smirk still planted on your face.

He finally bares that certain wickedness you saw a glimpse of earlier, and he does it at the right time. He’s probably waiting for the moment you start getting drawn to him, and when you do, he lures you a step deeper into his trap.

You feel stupid for thinking this game is his way of small talk. It definitely isn’t. Yet, you find yourself taking the bait he set.

“Actually, I had a good fuck the other night,” you answer indifferently.

The look that surfaces on his face mirrors yours a while ago, except he doesn’t try to hide the sensual gleam in his eyes when flashes you a grin.

“Boyfriend?”

You suddenly miss the bitter taste of the beer so you drink again prior to answering, “Friend.”

The curve of his lips twitch up, evidently amused with your reply. “I didn’t think you were the type, ms local.”

“Why? You thought I was boring?” You question with haughty disdain from what he was implying.

He stretches his bent knee as he plants both palms on the sand and leans back a bit. “No. Just really uptight.”

Only because his company was unwelcomed, but you’re positive he’s aware of that so you don’t comment on his remark. You move on with and proceed to make your guess.

“Right. Okay, my turn.”

You’re absolutely sure of this one, so you go for it without hesitation.

“I think you’re trying to get me in bed.”

Oikawa doesn’t know if he’s going to give you a free pass on that one. You’re not entirely wrong, but you’re not totally right either.

He does want to fuck you. You’re hot and you’re as interesting as he thought you’d be. But he’s not trying to get you in bed, not yet at least. He hasn’t taken any action yet.

He was still treading carefully until you were no longer treating him like a bothersome stranger, which seems to be the case when you unfiltered your words and then willingly gave him intimate information about your sex life.

“Yeah,” he says with no hint of shame. He decides to grant you a second correct answer since that’s the last one you’re going to get. His next guess will be the start of his attempt to actually get you to have sex with him, like you speculated.

“You like beer.” He already had three probable guesses in his head before the game even started. He just panned the game longer so you’ll ease into him. He reserved this particular guess to seal the deal.

“That’s no fair, tourist. That’s too obvious,” you complain yet you still wear an entertained grin.

“Not my fault” He chuckles at his already calculated victory.

“Ugh. Fine. The damn tree is yours.” You start to get up but he grabs your arm, causing you to frown inquisitively at him.

“I didn’t say you have to leave. Move a bit to your front,” he commands which you do even though you still look confused.

He stands up and takes the place you’re sitting at earlier. Your neck is craned towards him as you gawk at him while he comfortably seats himself behind you, stretching his legs just a bit so you’re positioned intimately between them.

“What are you doing?!” you ask with a panicked voice.

He ignores your question. He takes it just a bit further and grabs your waist to pull you closer to him so your back is pressed to his chest.

You gape at him with a scandalized expression, your body rigid with his touch.

He only smiles innocently at you. You might be frozen solid, but if you really don’t want him to, you could easily tell him to fuck off. But there you are, eyes wide open as you try to grasp what he just did.

“I just claimed my prize. I can see why you chose this tree. So comfortable.” He tries to sound nice and friendly, but knows it’s useless as he can’t help the sarcasm that tainted his words now.

You let out a deep breath and shake your head as you rest your back resignedly on his chest. You snuggle even closer until you fill the spaces between you two perfectly, your head nestled comfortably on the nook of his neck.

Still, you don’t seem pleased. The look in your face is a mix of frustration and defeat, but it only strokes his ego even more because despite that displeasure on that lovely face of yours, you’re still leaning cozily against him.

You straight down gulp the remaining liquor you have and put the empty can down on the sand.

“You played me well, tourist,” you mutter, the bitter taste of the beer matching your resentment towards him.

“Not sure what you’re talking about, ms local,” he continues playing innocent.

“Oh please. You planned this from the start. That’s why you asked for the fucking tree.”

He lets out the laugh he’s been holding in since you made him admit that he was trying to bed you. “You finally caught up, mi querida?”

You hoist yourself up to face him. “You speak Portugese?” you ask him curiously.

“Español. I did say I’m from Argentina, mi bella dama.”

You’re stunned with the way the supposed foreign words roll off so naturally from his tongue. It didn’t sound pretentious nor forced, proof that he’s fluent with it. You definitely underestimated him. There is so much more to his charisma than just his pretty face.

“So, ms local,” his gaze drops to your lips with uninhibited hunger that he doesn’t make the slightest effort to hide. “Can I start claiming my actual prize now?”

You open your mouth but no words come out. You don't know how to respond because you’re at war with yourself with the direction of your supposed small talk is heading to. Yet, you can’t deny that you want to reciprocate his overt desire for you.

He takes his thumb and skims it lightly over your lower lip as he keeps his eyes on it. “Say yes,” he orders you with the softest voice you’ve ever heard from him.

The wind suddenly feels colder as your body heats up from the ache that’s beginning to set in your core.

He completely has you in a trance, mindlessly obeying his dainty command.

“Yes.”

He smiles darkly at the consent you gave him. He moves his thumb down to your before he slowly dips down and presses his lips against yours. It was gentle, too gentle for your growing arousal as he’s deliberately teasing you to want more of him.

He peppers your cheek with the same soft kisses that are making you more and more impatient.

“Kiss me already,” you mutter when his lips reach your ear, causing the sound of his amused chuckle to be heard crisp and loud.

“But I am,” he whispers before licking the sensitive shell of your ear.

You snap your thighs together from the sharp pleasure the action sent to your pussy, your eyes almost half closed from how fast your desire is engulfing you.

He must have sensed it for he turns his gaze to your clenched thighs. “Well, well, well, ms local. I didn’t think you’re this sensitive. I’m barely doing anything,” he teases while his other hand skims your bare waist.

You want to wipe the smug expression off his face but you’re too horny to fight back. You just want him to kiss you properly already.

A triumphant glint surfaces in his orbs as he dips down and gives you what you’re silently asking for. He parts your mouth with his thumb on your chin and claims your lips, flicking his tongue on your lower lip before sucking it.

You grab his shoulder for support as you push yourself up a bit to feel him closer.

“Mmmm, beer tastes way better from your mouth,” he mumbles then quickly returns to your lips, slipping in his tongue as he deepens the kiss.

His hand on your chin travels to the side of your head, fiddling the other ear his mouth hasn’t touched earlier. You whine into the kiss, fully revealing to him how sensitive your ears are.

His other hand skims the bare skin of your waist he easily accessed because of your cropped top. Then, he moves it up to squeeze a clothed boob, earning him a moan you deliciously deliver to his mouth.

He pulls away to get a glimpse of you and he can’t help but be pleased with himself for a job well done. He’s totally got you, hook, line, and sinker with your eyes pooling with lewd desires, completely different from the cranky stranger you were minutes ago.

But he’s not done yet. He’s not yet satisfied. He can do more than this. He can break you just a teeny tiny bit tonight.

He gets back to your lips, your tongue seeking his while he fervently moves his mouth against yours. His hand lets go of your face so he can pay attention to your other boob he’s been neglecting, kneading both supple mounds with his huge hands at the same time.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he trails his lips down your exquisite neck, softly nipping the delicate flesh as he entertains himself by watching you squirm within his hold.

He lugs your bra down so he could feel your bare breasts, and as his idea of fun, he softly bites the nook of your neck while he harshly grips both tits.

A very indecent moan from your throat erupts in the tranquil air of the beach. You must have realized it too because you bite your lip while your other hand tightens its grip on his thigh.

“Let’s see how well you can keep it down,” he breathes on your neck as he puts his fingers to work, rolling both your nipples with his thumbs while licking the spot he just bit.

You plan to protest, but you’re scared that when you open your mouth, an obscene moan will come out instead. So you do your best to stay as silent as you can, your muted whimpering reaching only his ears.

His mouth goes back up again to your ear, his hot breath gradually melting your resolve to keep quiet. “Should I lick your ear again so you’ll moan for me, hmm?”

You ferociously shake your head, certain that you will lose it if he does. “I’ll do it if you don’t use your words,” he threatens you by grazing his lips on your earlobes.

“N-no,” you weakly answer.

He laughs lowly and withdraws his lips away from your ear. You feel a little bit of relief as he shows mercy. Only to feel stupid when he suddenly pinches your nipples, the surge of pain and delight causing you to lose to your own body as another moan rips out of your windpipe.

“Aahh! ”

You bury your face on his biceps to muffle the next ones as he continues tweaking the hardened buds while he sucks the curve of your shoulders.

You can feel the strain in your hips from how hard you're clamping your thighs, desperate to alleviate the ache in your already sopping cunt by grinding your inner thighs together.

Being the scum the tourist is, he hooks his foot on your ankle and does the same to the other, successfully prying your legs apart, worsening your need to be touched down from the lack of any sort of friction.

He removes one hand away from a boob and drags it down to your stomach, the cloth of your loose shirt catching on his knuckles before it comes to a stop in the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?” He asks while he traces circles on the skin just above the garter of your cloth.

Despite the overwhelming lust, you look around. Even though you used to have this place on your own at this wee hours of night, the possibility of someone going there is not completely zero.

You let him get as far as this because you can just swat his hands away the moment someone emerges from the other side of the lifeguard station.

Instead of putting his hand in, he dips his hand further down on your crotch, cupping your sex over the fabric of your shorts. Even with just that, your pussy is already throbbing.

You look at him with hesitation.

“What if someone comes?” You ask apprehensively, your lust-induced mind hoping he comes up with a sensical answer that you can accept.

“I won’t remove your shorts, ms. local. I’ll just,” he teasingly tugs the waistband, twisting it around his index finger, “put my hand in, yeah?”

He gives a drawn out lick on the spot behind your ear as he tugs a nipple, making you shiver with the unspoken oath that he can satisfy your needs.

You nod agreeably, impatient for the touch you’ve been craving for.

With your permission, he slowly slides his hand in, the leisure drag of his fingers almost making you mad with anticipation. Your torment only increases when he steadily traces his middle and ring finger on the length of your slit.

“You’re practically dripping,” he remarks as he continues the tortuous caress of his fingers. “Holy shit. You’re twitching already.” He laughs sardonically behind you.

“Jerk.” It’s supposed to sound angry, but it comes out as a needy whine.

You throw your head back on his chest, the night sky and the leaves of the tree you’re under starting to become hazy with how feverish your whole body feels.

“You’re really mean, you know that?” He mopes flatulently before he suddenly pinches your clit, the abrupt pang of pleasure causing you to arch your back as you cry out.

“Oh my. I’m starting to think you actually want to be heard.”

You’re no longer able to respond when he starts rubbing the bundle of nerves, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to suppress the erotic sounds coming off of your mouth.

“Mmmmmpp,” you whimper when he gives your boob a firm squeeze again.

You close your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Gonna cum already, hmm?” His question drenched with mockery.

Yet, you don’t give in to his taunt as you’re completely distracted with his fingers sending you to a frenzy. You nod your head frantically, shamelessly admitting that he can easily make you cum.

Then he stops. He slides his fingers down and spreads your folds open as your cunt throbs from the climax he’s defied you of.

“What I’d give to see this view,” he purrs on your ear, “this pussy twitching at nothing.”

You hate the way he’s treating you, but you hate yourself more for letting him do so. As if teasing wasn’t enough already, he starts massaging his fingers around your folds, keeping you spread open while deliberately avoiding any spot that will feel too good.

It’s utter hell for you.

You’re about to ask that he puts it in, but thankfully, he does so before you almost disregard your dignity and actually plead for him to do it. He inserts one steady digit, pushing it deeply until the whole length of his finger is in.

“You’re too wet,” he comments as he thrusts another finger in.

You bite your own hand as the stretch of his two fingers brings back the pleasure he thwarted earlier. But this time, he makes sure to not let it escalate as he keeps the speed of his fingers to a bare minimum. He drags them out incredibly slow and lunges them back in in the same excruciating tempo.

Your eyes flutter shut as you relish the sensation, his digits hitting their deepest reach at the same time the waves crash into the rocks of Leme beach.

Oikawa watches with utter fascination, seeing and feeling the rise and fall of your chest as he prolongs the pleasure his fingers can give you.

But he already misses how you sound when you lose control.

Without any warning, he increases his pace from tedious thrusts to ruthless ones.

Your clutch on his biceps almost hurts, but he really couldn’t give a shit when your moans start to seep out of your hand despite how hard you try to contain them. He can bet you’re not even aware that you’re already rolling your hips against his hand.

But it’s still not enough for him.

Luckily, he knows how to make things even better .

He flicks his tongue on a certain spot on your neck while rolling your nipple between his skilled fingers.

“Too much!” You bat your eyes open and face him, successfully unlatching his mouth from your neck. “Its too muuu aahhhh haaa. ” Your eyes instantly become cloudy as he makes sure that the base of his wrist rubs your clit while he continues ravaging your pussy with his fingers.

His cock is getting stuffed in his shorts with your back grinding against it as he witnesses you lose yourself with your mouth falling open as you whimper with wanton need for your release.

“To- hnnngg, tooouurist.”

Damn. For a moment, he thought you were going to moan his name. He would tell you right now but he kinda likes the idea that you’re a literal stranger allowing him to do vulgar things to you as he pleases.

Your feet leave the seams of the cloth you sat on as the pleasure stretches out to the tips of your toes, the coarse grains of sand getting stuck between as you curl them with your orgasm tingling too close.

The simultaneous stimulation of your most erogenous places is coercing you to let go.

“I’m gonna cum mmmppp.”

Then he withdraws his fingers completely, causing you to regard him wide-eyed with a confused look as he denies you of your high that was a thrust away from your reach. All the while, he just smiles pleasantly at you like he didn’t do anything wrong.

He takes his middle finger in his mouth while you watch him with both impatience and intrigue.

He gives it one thorough suck before sticks his tongue out and licks it, effectively making you wonder how it’d feel if he does what he just did directly on your pussy.

Then he turns to you with a naughty grin. “Why are you staring at me like that, ms local?”

Your eyes lingers on his fingers and tells him instead, “Put them back.” You can’t ask him to do what was just on your mind. The place isn’t right for it. But that’s just fine. His fingers prove to be good enough.

“You want me to put my fingers back in your pussy?” he reiterates your request haughtily.

You look down on the sand before you nod.

He hums on your nape while he inserts his hands back in your shorts, his fingers ghosting just above your slit. You buck your hip up to feel them but he retreats them when you do so.

Your mind is staggering from how much you want him to fill you up again with his digits. You look at him with your eyes begging him.

“Please,” you whimper.

He goes for your lips, kissing them passionately as he traces your slick opening. He plunges his tongue in the same time his fingers enter your cunt, easily pushing you at the very edge you were at earlier.  

Then stops again.

“Why?” You sound almost sulking, your foiled orgasm looming over you.

“Like you said earlier, ms local. I am trying to get you in bed.”

He presses his lips in your temples and drags them down back to your ear. “I don’t see any bed here. Do you?”

The sultry drawl of his voice makes you shiver, the ungratified ache in your groin making you succumb to him.

“My place is near,” you answer timidly.

“You’ll really take a stranger home?” He sneers at you, making you doubt your own decision. Yet, convinces you otherwise when he slowly rubs your clit again.

You shut your eyes and nod frantically with parted lips.

He takes his hands out of your shorts and cheerfully says. “Let’s go then.”

You fix your clothes before standing up to which he quickly follows. You take your canga and wrap it back again on your hips then picks up your empty can of beer. You plan to lead the way, but not even three steps away from where you were, he grabs your wrist and tugs you back to where you were.

He shoves you to the tree he was previously leaning on. Your hand flies to the trunk of it while he wraps one arm around your waist and pulls your ass against his erection, an entertained chuckle coming out of his lips.

“I lied, ms local.” He slides his other hand under your made up skirt, trailing his palm from the side of your knee up to your thigh.

“I didn’t want you in bed. I want you right here right now.”

He briskly tugs down your shorts while you worriedly grip his forearm, alarm evident in your orbs as he reveals his actual intention.

“We’re gonna get seen!” You warn with a cautious whisper while you look around to check for the possible presence of another.

He ignores you and hitches up the cloth hanging from your hips as he takes out his cock and traces it against your moist slit.

You drop the empty can as you drive your nails deeper in the tree with your eyes getting misty from the reminder of the little death he’s relentlessly and purposely deprived you of.

He leans over your back and reaches for your cheek with his lips, tenderly placing a kiss before speaking. “Then they’ll see a tourist with a local whore.”

Flames of fury spark in your eyes as you hiss at him. “You fucking asshole!”

He ignores your futile anger and grips his cock to align it on your entrance. He sees you try to keep up the resentful facade but you’re twitching wildly again for him to even take it seriously. He easily makes you crave for him again by grinding his shaft on the length of your cunt.

“I’m kidding, ms local. You’re too pretty and too interesting to be one,” he says with his lips latched on your shoulder.

“Do you even have a condom with you?” you ask exasperatedly.

“Nope. Should we stop and get one?” He asks back as he once again rubs his member on your opening.

“I.. uhh,” you mumble undecided even though you unknowingly just grinded against him.

He places featherlight kisses along your nape. “I promise to pull out. How about that?” His voice is delicate, persuading you to abandon your hesitation.

“Fine! Just make sure you do it right,” you firmly forewarn him, which he doesn’t even bother answering.

He begins to sink himself inside you, feeling your fluttering walls swallow his cock inch by inch.

“Shit, it’s so hot and tight inside you,” he groans.

Your knees buckle a bit as you cover your mouth with your palm this time. “You okay there?” he asks not out of concern but because he wants to entertain himself with how you sound when you’re trying so hard to keep the obscene sounds at bay.

You shake your head but your face is one deluged of sinful desires.

“But you look like you're enjoying this,” he pants as he’s starting to feel good too with how well you’re squeezing his cock. He closes his eyes and rests his cheek on the back of your shoulder as he rams his length completely inside you.

“Fuccck,” he moans on your shirt while you deliver a muffled one on your palm, which he didn’t like.

He snakes his arm from your waist up to your chest once again, forcefully lugging down your bra that he hears it rip a little.

“I want to hear you feel good,” he says as he toys with your boob he wasn’t able to pay much attention to earlier.

In between struggling puffs, you manage to say, “I don’t wanna be heard uughhh.” You let out a suppressed whine as he pulls his cock back all of a sudden and languidly slides it back in.

“You’re lucky enough I’m allowing this,” you continue on.

“Make me luckier then,” he hums on your shoulder as he aggressively tugs the nipple poking at his palm.

“Gaaah!” You snap your head back, prompting him to softly bite the flesh of your throat you exposed to him.

“Yeaaah. You sound so hot, ms local. Just like that mmmm.” He originally planned to take his time with you, but shit, your pussy feels too good clamping on his cock like you’re already about to cum.

It’s taking all of him not to pummel his cock stupidly fast into you and sought his own pleasure.

“Faster, tourist. Fuck!” Your voice cracks at the last word you uttered from keeping it from being too loud.

Instead of quickening his pace, he stops moving at all. He needs a moment to regain control of himself despite how splendid your insides feel. He wants to tease you some more until you lose that fiery pride of yours. He finds it sexy, but it would be sexier if you drop it and desperately beg for him to fuck your brains out.

He lifts himself off your back and retrieves both his hands to skim them over the curve of your ass.

He kinda wonders what face you’ll make if slams one hand against the meaty flesh. Oh well. No need to wonder if he can just see it for himself right now.

The solid sting of his palm hitting against your skin pierces the quiet air of the shore, quickly followed by a sharp gasp from you that is just as audible.

Fuck, he put a little too much force on that one. He can see the pinkish mark he’s left on one cheek. He checks on you and expects a pained expression but what he finds is eyes lidded with intense carnal longing while panting heavily.

He looks around briefly, checking to see for any unwanted onlookers before landing another slap on your other ass cheek.  

Your hand grips his that just struck you as you turn your neck to look at him with utmost desperation he’s been wanting to see from you.

“Make me cum already,” you mumble with a wavering voice as you start moving on your own, wobbly withdrawing your hips and pushing them back against his cock.

The sensation in his shaft as you use it to give yourself pleasure is nowhere near enough for him, but he continues to stare at your cute attempt to make yourself cum.

“Please!”

Ahh, fuck. Yes. That should do it. You look just the right amount of pathetic he can get himself off to with satisfaction.

He plants both hands on your hips, holding them in place so he can give you what you vehemently begged for. He buries himself inside you in one swift thrust and repeats it again, and again, and again until he sets a steady rhythm.

You wretchedly grasp the tree again to support yourself as he does his way with you.

Harsh slaps of skin to skin contact can be heard, but he figures it won’t be heard from a distance.

“Ah, ahh, aaaahhhhhh!!”  You practically yelled out that last moan, causing him to lean over again and put a hand over your mouth.

“As much as I want you to- shiiit -hear you scream for me, I’d rather not be caught here,” he tells you in a raspy voice. He doesn’t know the laws in this country. He might get arrested for this if found. Their coach would probably take him off the starting roster as punishment if he gets in trouble because of this.

But fuck, you really feel unbelievably good. Even the vibrations of your stifled wails on his hand is an added stimulation for him.

Even he himself is having a hard time to keep his voice hushed as he feels his orgasm about to explode. He removes his hand away from your lips and replaces it with his mouth so he drowns out his groans as he swallows yours.

With his knee, he nudges your leg apart from the other as he dips his hand from your hip down to your clit, rubbing the swollen bud ferociously to finally push you to your peak he previously kept on declining you to reach.

You start trembling beneath him so he wraps his other arm around your waist again to support you.

He pulls away a bit to look at you become undone and holy shit, you do not disappoint. You look so fucking pretty with your moist lips gaping as you puff while your eyes have completely surrendered to the sinful goodness he’s giving you.

“So good, so good, so fucking good uuhhhh,” you mewl shamelessly.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on a stranger’s cock?” He goads you even though he’s about to cum himself just to see if you still give a crap about that.

To his delight, you just nod thoughtlessly.

“Cumming, ahhh, A-“

He covers your mouth again with his before you’re able to let out a scream that will probably expose you two.

He feels too good that all your senses are filled with nothing but the intense carnal bliss as he batters the insides of your pussy by ramming his cock wildly into you without restraint, probably chasing his own high as well.

Your vision becomes a static blur as the coil in your stomach snaps viciously, making your whole body convulse with how intense you came. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’d probably be a thrashing mess on the sand.

You hope that he keeps his word and pulls out because honestly, you just don’t have it in you anymore to stop him as he prolongs your orgasm by seeking his own.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he spews while his forehead rests on your spine as his thrusts become wilder and more erratic.

He takes out his cock a second before you feel hot spurts of liquid on your lower back accompanied by his hoarse grunts.

He unties the canga around your waist and uses it to wipe off the mess he made on your skin while you’re still holding on for your dear life on the tree.

“My legs,” you whine as they give out with exhaustion.

Thankfully, he catches you in time and releases the soiled clothing he used to wipe off his load. He pulls up your lower garments before he settles you back to how you two were seated a while ago, except it’s less compromising this time.

You’re all curled up within his grasp, still catching your breath from what just happened as he puts a hand on your forehead to make you rest against his heaving chest.

The sound of the waves, the blow of sea breeze, and the sand beneath your thighs are lulling you slowly back to the present, making you aware that you just had sex with a stranger, with a freaking tourist

“So,” he speaks first but you keep your eyes closed and pretend this is just one sexy dream then you’ll wake up in the morning and realize that you actually didn’t go out at this time.

“Ms. local, helllooooo?”

He’s obviously recovered based on the familiar, frivolous tone he had when he came out of the trees a while ago.

You sigh since you aren’t able to convince yourself enough that this is just a dream. The sex felt too good and too hot for it to be unreal.

“Do I finally get a name?”

You open your eyes and find him looking eagerly at you.

“No,” you respond immediately which visibly turns his excitement upside down.

You also discard your previous plan to get his name. There’s no way you’re telling Shoyo about this guy.

Sunshine || masterlist

Taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @aphroditeschambers​ @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @crescenttooru @yashuaaa @liberhoe @richkookie @hqbeesun @megatron-1199​

[sunflowergirl522]

That’s Peter Part 2

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve been able to hop realities your whole life, running away to your favorite one with your favorite people when the blip happens. You come back to visit Jimmy to find out everyone came back and then get some bad news. When you go to find your boyfriend Peter you find out that he’s been snatched into a different reality.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1450

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

“What do you mean that’s Peter?”Jimmy stands and makes his way to stand in front of you. The two women in the room stay silent sharing a look at each other before watching the two of you interact.

“I mean that’s Peter, Jimmy. My Peter.” You watch as his eyes get wider as realization hits him.

“You mean the Peter, like the love of your life Peter?” You turn around and face the screens crossing your arms to hold yourself. You watch as Peter gets excited about one of the kids having super speed like him and can hardly contain the smile that wants to take over your face.

“Yeah, apparently he got sucked into this reality last night. That’s what Scott said when I went looking for him.” Jimmy gives you a side hug and gets a good look at your face while the women behind the two of you get to work doing whatever they had meant to do here.

“We should be able to access the data on Haywards devices now.” You and Jimmy turn to face the others.

“Have you been crying?” He whispers to you and you just shrug at him not wanting to talk about it.

“It’s a story for another time.” Jimmy nods at you then walks up to talk to the two of them about this guy Hayward tracking Vision but you turn back around to watch the tvs.

“So who are you exactly?” You turn around at being addressed.

“Oh, I’m Y/n. Hi,” You offer a small wave to them. “I’m Jimmy’s friend.”

“These lovely ladies are Monica and Darcy.” Jimmy introduces the two of them.

“How do you know this Pietro?” Darcy asks as she continues to hack into files. 

“Peter, and I spend a lot of time in his reality.”

“Peter is Y/n’s boyfriend of two years.” Jimmy continues on for you after you finish speaking.

“What do you mean his reality?” Monica tilts her head as she asks you this the confusion evident on her face.

“I-”

“Y/n can jump into different realities as she pleases.” Jimmy interrupts you the excitement in his voice evident while talking about your power. “It’s actually pretty fucking cool! She opens up a portal and walks through it before it closes behind her and it came with the power to teleport.”

“So do you know Wanda?” Monica stops Jimmy before he can keep going on about it and you can’t stop the small smile at Jimmy’s excitement about your powers. That’s something that’s never changed and always manages to bring a smile to your face.

“No, why would I know Wanda?”

“I was just assuming you got them the same way as Wanda and Pietro.”

“I was born with them but didn’t realize I even had them until I was like thirteen.” Monica’s phone then rings and she smiles down at it.

“That’s it. My way back into the Hex will be here in an hour. Just gotta meet my guy over the ridge. Let’s roll.” She starts to head towards the door and Jimmy stands up to follow her.

“You can’t do that.” Darcy looks worried as she speaks. Jimmy then says something about how he's a wiz at hotwiring cars and you chuckle at it remembering how you had to teach him when he had a shit car that refused to start after a while. “You can’t go back into the Hex. The boundary has changed your cells on a molecular level twice. It’s changing you.” Monica doesn’t look worried about that at all though and you can’t help but to wonder why.

“I know what Wanda’s feeling and I won’t stop until I help her.”

“Okay. But I’m staying here. I haven’t broken through Haywards last firewall and it has to be something big.”

“Fine, just meet us out there as soon as we can.” Monica then leaves and Jimmy nods at Darcy before looking at you.

“C’mon Y/n.”

“What? I’m not going with you. I love you Jimmy but I gotta stay here and figure out whatever this is so I can get Peter out of it.” You take his seat in front of Darcy and lean back in it.

“Alright, but come meet us when Darcy does.” You nod at him as a response and he leaves after placing a hand on your shoulder.

“So, tell me everything. What’s the Hex? What’d Monica mean when she said she knows what Wanda’s feeling? How can I help?” You lean on your elbows on the table as you speak to the woman in front of you. She lets out a breath of air before answering your questions.

***

“Okay so let me get this right. Vision is dead, like gone gone, and Wanda stole his body that was in pieces from SWORD before doing this.”

“Yeah, that’s right. And Peter showed up last episode.”

“Damn, I’d be mad too. You just come back from being blipped just to find out that your boyfriend is being torn apart and studied by scientists. I can’t say I blame her for creating this little world. And I mean Peter is just the icing on the cake. Bringing your dead brother wow.” You sigh out as you rub your forehead. “She really has everything she’s wanted doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, it’s the perfect reality.” You sit up straight at Darcy’s words before standing up completely and starting to pace around.

“That’s it! Why didn’t I think of it before. I’m so stupid.”

“What?” Darcy seems genuinely interested in what you may have planned. You grab the chair you were sitting in and spin it so the back of it was facing Darcy before straddling it and folding your arms on the top of the back of it.

“Wanda’s basically just created her own reality right?” Darcy nods at you smiling at your enthusiasm. “Then I should be able to get in there. I can get into any other reality why not hers.” You run a hand through your hair as you speak.

“But it won’t be the same as any other reality you’ve been to. She’s controlling everyone in there. Monica was pulled in and controlled.”

“Would she be able to control someone who pops in unexpectedly, someone she didn’t choose to let in?”

“Theoretically she would have to notice you in there first.”

“Then I should be fine right?”

“Possibly but you’d have to be careful. If she saw you and noticed that you weren’t supposed to be there then who knows what consequences that would have.”

“So I’ll hop on in and play along with her little world, popping out here to let you guys know what’s happening. I could be your inside man.” You stand up not letting Darcy tell you otherwise. “Do me a favor and tell Jimmy about this when you see him. I’ll see you guys in a bit.” And with that you open up a portal to town square in Westview and hop in. 

You take in surroundings, kids are running around with bags of candy, the movie theatre is playing Incredibles and The Parent Trap, there’s hay bales and pumpkins all around you. Looking down at your attire you notice that you’re in a blue and yellow bodysuit with and X in the middle of your stomach as if it was a belt, across your forehead is a blue headband. For some reason it reminds you of Jean. You shake your head to get out of those thoughts, you’re here to find Peter. It wasn’t hard to find him sitting next to Wanda with that ridiculous hair style. You can’t deny how good he looks though. As you lean on a stack of hay in earshot you can hear Wanda talk about how she felt alone and empty before the world was made. You can’t help but feel bad for her, you know you don’t know exactly what she’s feeling but since you’ve found out your dad’s been dead you can’t help but feel a little empty. The next thing you know her twins are running up to her, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, sis. It’s not like your dead husband can die twice.” Of course Peter had to open his big mouth. Wanda blasts him into the cemetery and you gasp. You can't blame her though he deserved it. When she freezes everyone you try to stay as still as you can, glad that the theory that she shouldn’t be able to control you was right. You’re just glad she can’t see you shut your eyes as the red flash she lets out nearly blinds you.